Closed The Initiation [Leo]

[Eosi]

It was incredible, the way he eyed her with undisguised greed. It only pushed her further. The hosiery was the worst of it, really. There was bending and stretching and even a bit of jiggling. His eyes were haunted, consumed. Eosi hid a little smirk underneath the mercy of her hair. When finally buttoned up, she stood looking somewhat expectant. Leo eyed her with an alien expression. "A remarkable display," he remarked, his voice low. Eosi arched a brow in immediate suspicion. "We may want to practice it some more while we're at it."

He began to grin. It was clear he was up to something, but what? A very fine vapor again emerged from his pores, scarlet – nearly the color of blood. Eosi stared dubiously, trying to ascertain its purpose. And then it hit her, literally. "Love is a wind sometimes," he said ironically. The gust swept her back. Her mouth formed a perfect “o,” as she was gently flung into the water from which she’d emerged. The splash was magnificent. For a split second she was submerged. She clamored to stand. The gesture was a wild splashing, clawing at the edge. Her locks were drenched, making her akin to a soaked, russet beast. By the time she got to her sense, she realized he was laughing. Heartily, at that.

They say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Whoever said it must have learned the lesson first hand. "Sorry... you may have made it... just a little... too remarkable..." He gasped for breath inbetween guffawing. It was just a bit too rich. ”Oh yeah?” She said dangerously. Her tone was the one and only warning he’d get. Focusing on her palm she produced a slightly larger amount of Res than the flame had required. Thinking abstractly, she attempted to will it into a ball. It complied with a little lurch, forming into a awkward oval. That’d have to do for now. Blind with estrogen fueled rage, she ignited the floating shape and hurled it at him, caring not a whit for where it might strike.

Instead of waiting, she sprung out after the projectile. If he were to dodge, it’d be moot – the fireball had merely been a distraction. It’d be sad if he were to underestimate her use of tactics. The best lessons were learned the hard way. Instead she threw herself at him, hands going for his wrists. Their forms toppled together in a heap. First, she’d soak him just as well. There was no getting past that. If he planned on ruining her wardrobe, he’d take the same in kind. Her thighs locked around his hips in a very familiar position. Second, her hands went for under his arms. If the man was at all ticklish, he would be in a world of hurt.

Having learned from the best, her fingers were everywhere. She wiggled them under his arms and went for the soft skin behind his knees. Her Father used to torture her in such a way. ”You want to laugh?!” She cried. ”Laugh away!” Eosi continued the relentless assault. She’d not stop until he was gasping for air. No activity that vigorous could last however, and she inevitably slowed, her fingers interlacing gently with his. She sat straddling him, chuckling to herself. The fireball had taken a bite out of her newfound strength. With a light sigh she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

Willpower evaporated like a lifting fog. Her lips were tender yet hungry, staking their claim. With a light groan her teeth locked around that supple flesh. She bit down suddenly, hard. It was unexpected yet completely her – a manifestation of passion and yet unfulfilled malice. She wanted that punishment, even if it meant him spanking her right there. Reddening herself and pushing her to tears. She wanted him to bite her back. Anything to rid her of that growing readiness; the space between her thighs had become slick, causing a great deal of static in her brain. His scent was overwhelming and the metallic taste of his blood graced her tongue.

She moaned, the sound laced with a triumphant laugh. They were over the edge.

[Leo Varniak]

There was something almost artistic about the way she plunged back into the water. With all the grace of a skilled pearl diver... not. Was it mean? Definitely. Cheap? Absolutely. Hilarious? Beyond a doubt. Besides, it would force her to start over - quite possibly without the burden of wet clothing - and that was a benefit in and of itself. The cat was strong in her, and to see her incur the occasional mishap amused him the same way a cat would, acting all dignified and pretending the failure had been their intention all along. Her expression as she rose was priceless, just to name one. He laughed and he loved her so very much for it.

Of course, retaliation should not have come as a surprise. Still recovering from his fit, Leo watched with interest and the precursor to concern as she shaped a little more Res into existence. She didn't look like she meant to dry herself with it, either. He arched his brow, surprised to see the firebolt depart from her sphere of influence without the need for any teaching on his part. The woman was a fast learner; to think she'd been a Reimancer for a scant few bells. Leo made no move to dodge the fire: it would have been blasphemy to him. He let it crash into his upper torso, licking the wandering flames and finding that they still tasted like her Res. His shirt, already damaged by the last outburst, was now a definite goner, and this made it two shirts lost to fire in Riverfall over his season-long stay. He was starting to see a pattern there.

What he hadn't anticipated was Eosi charging at him with sweet war in her eyes. That she could still run after so much magic was a thing of wonder. This second crash had much more of an impact on him, and before he could do or say anything he found himself lying on the hard cavern floor with a cold, wet redhead on top of him, doing what no-one else had ever dared before - tickling him. And, sadly, he was rather ticklish indeed. He wriggled and writhed under the torture, gasping for air in between cruel fits of induced laughter. The loss of control was humiliating, and also strangely arousing on a primal level. By the time she slowed down and her punishment faded into reward, his fire was well past the point of no return and he felt the overwhelming need to get rid of all that constrictive, downright painful clothing. No school came without some time for recess, after all.

The kiss was sweet music to his heart, dissolving the conflicting feelings about her previous assault. Had things been allowed to progress without surprises, the day would have taken a turn towards a solid, fulfilling act of love, the kind that cements a bond on a daily basis. Of course, given the characters at work here, it wasn't meant to be. Leo's eyes shot open in shock when she bit down on his lips with surprising violence, actually drawing his blood. Pain flared across the sensitive flesh, his life juice staining his lover's mouth. Her moan told him how much she was enjoying this, and how badly she was expecting payback for this. He could practically feel the anticipation of his revenge boiling through her veins. She wanted it badly. Punishment. Of course.

The pain overcame Leo's long ingrained mental mechanisms against ever being forceful with a woman. She had asked for it... and still, there would be agony in store for her, as well. An egalitarian relationship at its best. Eyes blazing, tongue licking his wounded lip, he took in her obvious exhaustion. She had cast so much magic for a complete novice, it was a half miracle she could even stand and move, let alone struggle. Her fighting instinct would be her undoing today. With a decisive edge in the stamina department, Leo pushed Eosi aside and forced her flat on the ground, lying on her stomach. Grinning like a fiend, he restrained her with a knee on her back while he ripped off what was left of his shirt and grabbed her wrists. Wrapping the cotton fabric around them, he tied her hands behind her back as tightly as the cloth would let him. It was quite tight.

"Your insubordination has been duly noted, Miss Barlowe," he rasped from behind, "it appears you are in dire need of correctional measures." This was all so new to him, it excited him immensely. His heart raced in his chest at the endless possibilities this had to offer. Having the proudest creature he'd ever met under his full control was almost too much to bear. His right hand took a hold of her beautiful red mane and started pulling, lifting her head until it was almost on level with his kneeling form. Still, for all that the right hand dominated her so, the kisses he started bestowing down the side of her throat were nothing if not sweet and caring. The dissonance between hand and mouth was extreme. At the very end he pinched the skin ever so slightly between his teeth, as a reminder that he knew what she wanted... he simply wasn't going to give it for free.

Leo's mouth invaded her ear as he allowed his tongue to roam for a while before whispering his conditions. "You want something. Speak and you might just receive it." A short pause. "Beg me." The word sent a shiver down his spine, and he wondered if it was the same for her. This ship was sailing into unknown seas, and his normally rational mind didn't even entertain the possibility that someone might walk in at any time and find them like this.

[Eosi]

She knew how he’d felt just moments before. The surprise gracing his features was incredibly gratifying. He squirmed and struggled at the attack, laughing uncontrollably. Their combined mirth was a sweet chorus, bouncing from wall to wall. Eosi laughed too, this time with abandon. At the unexpected turn of fortune, the reversal would be that much sweeter. His body responded as she’d expected it to; the woman had no energy left to fight. He slid out from under her and ripped the tattered fabric from his chest. The fogginess hit her all at once. There’d be no continuing this lesson before an intermission. His knee braced against the small of her back. As the cloth wrapped deftly around her wrists, it was evident he knew just the thing.

There was that niggling impulse to criticize his rope work. But before she could so much as muster a reply, he was already seizing control. "Your insubordination has been duly noted, Miss Barlowe," his voice was frayed. "It appears you are in dire need of correctional measures." With that he took a fistful of hair and drew up, dynamic tension sending waves of pleasure down her spine. That was the way. He’d known all along, of course. The pain was so delicious that she gasped and moaned, losing the last vestiges of control.

His kisses were indulgent, interspersed with pinch of his teeth. With each action she shook, her hips beginning to sway. His tongue began attacking her ear, the lavish moisture propelling her to the height of her own arousal. The scenario was far better than she’d imagined for a first time. It was perfection. "You want something. Speak and you might just receive it." The perfect master. She’d suspected it all along. ”Beg me." Her body had not been owned in such a way. Who could make the lion beg? The words erupting from her throat were not human – they were the tortured syllables of an animal.

”Please…” She pled, pride torn away. What was pride? It was such a useless thing, more binding then the cloth that shackled her hands. ”Please hurt me. Please, please, please…” Her backside wiggled teasingly, an apertif to the main selection. ”Flog me. Hide me until the skin can take no more.” The moisture caused the fabric to cling, leaving little to the imagination. He could see the seam of her thighs, the part in between her legs hidden just beneath the nylon hose. ”I beg you,” she gasped, arching her back. ”I want your fury, right here.” From the angle he sat, he’d see the moisture there. The curve of her femininity. She’d never put her smallclothes back on.

It was unreal, the way he affected her. For all the control with which they’d begun, they’d lost it just as quick. She was nothing but a quivering mass. Her tongue ran across her mouth, tasting the blood that lingered there and sighing. Leo’s blood, still metallic and unpleasant, fulfilled a primal urge. They’d tasted too much from their corresponding souls. Everything had a new texture. She’d drink his blood and eat his heart if he could keep living somehow. Just to have it within. To experience it and to keep it safe.

The feeling of his within her was addicting. They were perfect shapes, a snug fit. Their melding flesh had nearly driven her mad. But this was a new height. How far could they go? How high could they soar until they were scalded by the sun?

[Leo Varniak]

So there was such a thing in the world. Nikali's ways were broader and deeper than even one with a scholarly disposition may suspect, and most people could live an entire life without knowing. That pain could be pleasure was a contradiction of the highest order, and yet one he was witnessing at this very moment. The discovery could unhinge an entire system of philosophy and bring a castle of theories to its knees. Anything follows from a false statement. Leo tried to consider this like an external observer would, focusing on his breathing to calm down even if just a little. He needed to be in control for her to appreciate this in full. Even though he felt like he was making love to her subservience, it wouldn't do to get carried away.

Even so, the effect she had on him was nearly overwhelming. All the swaying, the moaning, the shivering. He truly had the impression of playing a complex musical score with a new and marvelous instrument. The implications were both dark and dangerous. Eosi didn't want to tap into the full reservoir of Leo's fury. There were places in his soul where even he did not dare to tread these days, places that may look uninhabited now except for a glimpse of motion near the corner of one's eyes. Places that could stir once more at a moment's notice, for the best - and worst - tales deserve to be told again. Yet those were exactly the places he was skirting now, the only places he could draw from to fuel the idea of inflicting pain upon the woman he loved. Just like the door to Dira's own domain, such thresholds were easy to cross in one direction and only one. How close could he go without truly hurting Eosi?

He licked his lips, sucking on the wounded one, as she begged. A low, half-voiced sound showed up uninvited from his throat. For an instant he thought she could drive him insane, or at least over the edge of his resistance, if she kept this up for too long. The feeling of power, compounded with the feelings conveyed through the mark on his back, was making him feel like a god in the guise of a man. He had the blood of one. He came from the loins of the Alahean kings and queens of old. He could make a reasonable claim to the entirety of eastern Mizahar. Riverfall belonged to him in principle. He could reshape the world according to his whims. Yet all the power that mattered to him was the special kind he flaunted over the quivering mass of his lover. "You have earned a little," he decided in a hoarse whisper. His right hand still holding her up by the hair, he moved the left one behind her and delivered a very firm slap to her buttocks. The hit gave a satisfying cracking sound, and the feel of her flesh absorbing the blow was maddening.

"Not much, but a little." He aimed a second slap at a different angle, keeping them unpredictable in both direction and timing. This one may have been slightly stronger than the first, as he adjusted his strength to find out exactly how far he could go. "Look at yourself, all dignity lost," he grinned, knowing she could probably glimpse her own reflection in the water. Another hit across her thigh, closer to her precious core. "You have no idea what you ask for. You may think you know pain, but do you really?" And yet another one. And another. And another.

Then there was silence for a moment, but the way he was holding her head didn't let her see what he was doing. She could hear the rustling sound of a belt being unfastened and cloth slipping down - a big relief on his part, no doubt. He picked up the belt in his left hand and whipped her once. It was a swift thing, devoid of indecisiveness. When Leo committed to something, he did not hesitate. "Are you worth the effort, I wonder?" He couldn't believe the things he was saying right now. He may have thought it was a dream, no more. He blessed Eosi with a second lash of the belt, his mind spinning and looking for new possibilities. "I may need some convincing on that point." Her skin was already turning red, but the part of him that would be appalled at the sight was dormant now. He could only hope it wouldn't wake up later and nail him to the wall with the memories.

[Eosi]

A low, musical noise escaped his lips. Leo was enjoying himself. Eosi sensed his affinity toward this from the start, in a way he couldn’t even have guessed. The Azenth had a dark side, too. The way his eyes occasionally flashed, silent rage rising from the base of his chest. He was the perfect master, reticent and sweet; yet harboring duality, for when he was angry in truth, it was unreal. She could be this for him. She could be his escape. There was a pause, eyes trained on her arching backside. How her skin yearned for him to touch it. "You have earned a little,” he replied in a gravely voice. Leo’s arousal was evident; it had its hand around his very throat.

Suddenly he struck, hand bouncing off creamy flesh. Synapses fired from nerve to nerve, air gusting out of her lungs. Eosi’s head snapped further back into the grip of his hand involuntarily. The residual pain was but an appetizer – they would work up to the entrée soon enough. He was just testing to see how deep they could go. "Not much, but a little," the Ivakian continued. He seemed pleased by her reaction. Another whistling slap echoed off her backside, the assault from a different angle. Her own voice rippled out in a grateful moan. It was everything she wanted.

"Look at yourself, all dignity lost," He crooned from behind. She glimpsed her own expression in the water’s edge, and he was more than right. Eosi was nothing but a ragged slave girl, her own lips red and chafed from chewing at them in anticipation. Everything screamed for him to touch her again. Flesh itched for contact, most especially after each impact. Her thighs writhed together in a desperate bid to contain the absolute overflow that was happening between them. It was setting her over the edge. Somehow she wished she’d left her clothes off entirely.

Palm flat, he came down across a hamstring, his fingertips grazing the true source of her agony. Pleasure and pain alike shot through her like a bolt of lighting. She cried out in ecstasy, no longer able to think. "You have no idea what you ask for. You may think you know pain, but do you really?" His sound devoured all else. She’d follow that voice onto Dira’s doorstep. Eosi belonged to Leo Zaital in the way an arm belonged with an elbow. The boundaries for them were all but gone.

The assault continued, rendering her unable to even consider that rhetorical question. Instead she thrust out to greet each blow, heaving from delight. Her own voice again was a stranger. The attack suddenly stopped and the slave was bereft. She nearly ripped her own hair out in craning to see the activity behind her. There was rustling fabric… But he wouldn’t let her off the hook so easily. The clinking of metal whispered out to say his belt had been removed. Still, her brain had no command of reality whatsoever. She was lost and desperate. That was until the strap came down in an arch, biting into already flushed skin. It was spiraling height, one she hadn’t anticipated him trying. ”Mmph!” Her mouth was half smile, half grimace. She’d really unfettered the beast within him.

"Are you worth the effort, I wonder?" Another kiss of the leather. Eosi was all but a true animal, nearly rabid with desire. "I may need some convincing on that point." That did it. ”Please,” she gasped, never finding enough breath in the air. ”Let me show you…” Yes, there was nothing more she wanted. Screw the belt and screw the hiding. Enough about her. There was a whole world she could induct him into. This was just the beginning. ”Let me prove my worth… My love.” Again, she moved her backside teasingly, forcing arousal to stream openly down her leg. She was practically salivating. He would whip her into climax at the rate they were going and that was not the end she had in mind. Of course, this wasn’t her show anymore. The loss of control, the humiliation… It was truly glorious.

”Baby…” She whispered, nails inflicting crescent-shaped wounds in the skin of her palm. Tiny rivulets of blood followed each line.

[Leo Varniak]

Strangely, there was no shame in his world now. There should have been some, and the lack surprised him as he reached out to his raging emotions. Maybe it was the way Eosi was enjoying this, transcending every inhibition and making him enjoy it all the more. Maybe he had found the outlet he so desperately needed, the one that would keep him from bringing forth true destruction when it counted. Every blow elicited a moan and a shot of pleasure in her that was promptly mirrored in his own heart. He simply embraced the whirlwind, still resolving to keep a semblance of control over himself. He who could not dominate himself could never dominate another. He struck her with abandon, reveling in her mounting excitement. It was a glorious show, the likes of which he had never witnessed before. It truly was an initiation of a different sort; she was returning the favor.

He could tell the belt pleased her in unexpected ways, and the way her body reacted indicated that it wouldn't be long before it gave in completely, as it should. Yet Leo was nowhere near finished with her. She had unleashed his dark companion, and that entity always saw the job through. As a killer, in his early days, he had been implacable and that had never changed about him. A portion of him could still only deal in absolutes. She would be his absolutely; she would experience his soul in full. And to hear her beg, all the fight flown out of her, thrilled him in ways he couldn't begin to understand. Eager to serve, she even resorted to an affectionate appellative. Baby. Leo felt a wave of physical pleasure at the word, basking in the feeling for a few seconds before continuing.

He had broken her. They could move on to the next phase; he knew she'd be obedient. "Your worth?" He questioned aloud, as if inquiring. "I am going to take a sample of your worth to begin with." She was still tied, nor did he have any intention of letting her free anytime soon, so he could not be gentle about this. Not that he would have been even if he'd had a chance. He took a hold of the back of her dress and began ripping at it, tearing the fabric apart roughly and exposing the lovely flesh underneath. She had played with her body but chimes before, and now he would get to do the same. He dug gaping holes in her clothing but didn't even bother stripping her completely, for there was a glory in full nudity that he wasn't about to give her.

"Yes, I can see your worth there, my love," he grinned, his head leaning against hers and his free hand began groping her mercilessly. He was all over her body, tormenting and using her. He only allowed himself the shortest detour into her most sensitive nexus, a brief act of generosity that ultimately denied her fulfillment. This was payback for the teasing, and she must know it. He squeezed and rubbed at his heart's content, enjoying Eosi's toned body against his fingers. Was there anything about her that wasn't beautiful? And now he was taking it all selfishly. At some point the hand was no longer enough and he simply had to slide his truest self between her full breasts, kneeling next to her. He took pleasure in a few well-placed thrusts before disengaging. He loved her so very much, but in this specific phase her role was that of an object.

Finally, he retreated, pleased with the goods he'd sampled. "You want something else now, don't you? You know how this works." He was, himself, flushing with the excitement of it all. "You have my permission to worship me. Then you get what you want... if I'm impressed enough." He pulled her head towards him, finally giving her a full view of him. He had discarded the rest of his clothing, and was now sitting on the cavern floor. He pulled her in forcefully. "Surely the priests of Nikali must have trained you well?" His curiosity knew no bounds. He gave her access to him, but the hands behind her back limited her options. Nothing she couldn't deal with, he was certain.

[Eosi]

The word was followed by silence. Never before had she called anyone “baby” or other such silly endearments. It wasn’t silly now. What wasn’t she willing to do for this man? The feeling of his hand, still knotted in her hair was all the tenderness she needed. "Your worth?" He mused aloud. "I am going to take a sample of your worth to begin with." The feel of her dress began to unravel around her, literally. Seams burst and split as he ripped it right up the back. The wet, tearing was magic to her ears. There were no thoughts of “what shall I wear home?” or “my favorite dress,” but only need. The front was yanked down to reveal her chest and strangely this felt right, that they were destined for these games of lust and power.

"Yes, I can see your worth there, my love." He began to touch her in ways he hadn’t before. This exploration was rough and bittersweet, for his roaming digits would never settle in one area. The played across her skin in teasing circles, pinched and squeezed at the tissue of her bosom and even touched that aching center – the one so desperate to be whole. It was another punishment, yet she couldn’t help but feel the victor. He was enjoying himself and so was she, for they were truly in their natural states. The love they felt was still there in each passing caress. The simple word “stop” or “no” would have put the whole thing to rest. But those items no longer existed in her vocabulary. Not for Leo the Master.

With one hand, he returned to her front and began to truly indulge. That was the way. He was feeling less and less inhibited about simply taking what he wanted from her. She eyed the pride of his aspect with undisguised greed as he rolled it between the skin of her breasts. It was so close and yet entirely too far away. Her eyes met his in the process. She watched the pleasure dancing there, in that gaze. If only she could slip off those restraints, for that sensation was hers to give. That nasty pride began to resurface. It was her right to make the Champion wither.

“You want something else now, don't you? You know how this works." Yes, yes she did. How he knew of its inner mechanics would be an interesting rationale. She eyed him patiently, obedient and for the first time, truly timid. "You have my permission to worship me. Then you get what you want... if I'm impressed enough." Never one to refuse a challenge, she bit her lip and blazed from under thick lashes, feeling coy. His hand guided her toward the object of her desire. Clothes were thrown away. There was some lingering remembrance that sprang to mind. Something about his opinions on nudity. She would have laughed had she not been so focused.

"Surely the priests of Nikali must have trained you well?" That was a stupid question. The old Eosi was in chains, screaming expletives between the bars of her sturdy cage. This one growled and stalked toward her prize, knees bruising against the stone floor from the effort. When near enough she shook her head, moving the ever-present cloud of her hair from the way. Her work began at once, that curling tongue expert as a cat and a bowl of milk. She drank from the top, teased and then took him truly. Every part of him was taken with no revulsion, no gagging. Eosi had been trained well indeed.

The ministrations were no hasty affair as they’d been the first time. Given the forum to work at her leisure, she employed every technique the female mouth could offer. Her lips tightened, her tongue lapped. There was eagerness, enthusiasm and arguably joy. Her eyes never left his – that was the key aspect to any such endeavor. They were ripe with vicarious pleasure, alight at every groan, every shift of his legs. She was insatiable. There could only two options – he’d take her, or he’d be taken. Either pleasure was his to choose.

[Leo Varniak]

He had been looking forward to this - this display of Nikali's power - ever since their first encounter, but that had been more of a mutual introduction than anything else. So many facets, so many aspects, and so little time to taste of them all. Full comprehension would arrive in time, a gift of patience and dedication; the reward was in the journey itself. There was no rush this time, and he did not feel remotely as tired as he had been then. Also, the more time they spent in each other's dreams, the longer it would distract Eosi from casting any more spells, keeping her safe from that danger. While that level of rational thinking was far beyond him at this point, he still understood intuitively that she needed his discreet, unspoken protection, more than ever. A true master could not help but be mindful and caring in his own way.

This, though, had occupied more than its fair share of fantasy over the last few days. He had referred to it as worship, and he could think of no word more fitting. She had the power to make him feel godly, and it would be very unfair to reduce it to a matter of technique. She knew him in every nerve, she read the world behind his glazed eyes, she breathed air in and pleasure out in ways far from the ordinary. It was such a powerful weapon should it be used as one against him. Leo anticipated the feeling of her lips around him as they approached, already drunk on this particular addiction. He forced himself to breathe regularly, for his first and incorrect instinct would be to hold the air in. He relaxed completely, knowing he'd do her a disservice if the audience could not enjoy the play at its fullest. And certainly, the script did not disappoint.

Their eyes spoke at length while his hands did little but keep her ubiquitous hair from getting in the way and caressing her face in an obligatory, but futile attempt at reciprocation. The thought of guiding her tickled him for an instant, but he knew better than to teach Nikali her domain. Even though he knew what to expect this time, she had him completely in her grasp, and while he would fight her every step of the way, he knew the battle could only have one outcome if he chose to make a last stand here. She was in no hurry, electrifying him in slow motion and deciding exactly the way he was supposed to feel at every given instant. This time he could appreciate the gift in full, providing ample feedback with eyes turning more liquid by the moment. While he did not want to show exaggerated reactions, at times he had no choice but to give a choked moan or push his chin up for an instant before catching himself and re-establishing equilibrium.

Every notion of time abandoned, he had no idea how long she served, but he squeezed every last second while he could do so safely. Inside, he'd already made his choice, for he was certainly a fair master, if an increasingly demanding one. At last, he placed delicate fingers on the sides of her face and guided her out with excruciating slowness. His mad heartbeat was no mystery to anyone with eyes. It took him a few beats to catch his breath and restart his mind. "Yes," he whispered, "I'm impressed. You have deserved much." Rewarding his slave with a benevolent, if flushed, smile, Leo stirred and vanished to her side, preparing to give her what they both wanted. His fingers did the completely unneeded reconnaissance first, curious and vital and reassuring: the time for teasing was behind them. She would not miss the purposeful sound of his tasting them afterwards, committing her flavor to memory. There would be no reciprocation today - not with this mood, this atmosphere; only the finality of action, and her being taken in the way of beasts, still wearing the remnants of her clothing.

He was in no more hurry than she had been, one hand extending to once more grab her hair and the other firmly on her hip, occasionally slapping. It would be slow and gradual, but fearsome in the end. If you threw a frog into boiling water all you'd accomplish was make it jump away from danger. But if you placed the same frog into warm water and heated up ever so slowly, then you could boil it alive. Before long, his thrusts had reached the temperature of the sunniest days in Eyktol, sweat defining him. He still had enough self-control in him to estimate her arrow would hit the target first, but not by much. It was still enough for Leo the Master, all things considered.

[Eosi]

Stoic was a good adjective for Leo Zaital. It was somehow more pleasurable for the resistance she faced. His eyes spoke, cried out her name. Silence still ruled the day. It set her competing, even as she submitted to him. Every now and then, the veneer would crack. His leg would twitch, his chin would clench. The sound of his desire would ghost to her ears, just a few diminished groans. That was by far her favorite. The sound of his clear satisfaction was a boon. Therefore she’d endeavor to replicate the gesture, to see how far she could push him before his control yielded. His hands did not guide her chin and in fact, barely even touched at all. Rather, they softly brushed the hair from her face. That gesture was a sweet contrast to the subservience. In his heart, she was still the Invalti from the Shooting Range. She yearned to be in his embrace.

Time rolled by, though neither party paid any mind. Eosi, incredibly single-minded in her goals, continued the slow torture. Her lips were raw, her throat quickly following suit, but she didn’t complain. And she certainly didn’t stop. It was a sort of private dream, to be this for him. No woman had shown him such lavish sexual attention before. Not by his admission, anyway. This was a gift. His pleasure had become hers. The cracks came more frequently and judging by his trembling hand, he was close. "Yes," he whispered, his hands pulled her off. "I'm impressed. You have deserved much." That smile, so boyish… He beamed down at her. Eosi looked bewildered – her mindset had not reverted back to its normal state. She was still a slave.

He disappeared and she irrationally felt like weeping. Such sexual extremes were very emotional at their core. His sudden absence felt wrong on every level. That was until his hands began to roam her center. At the contact, every muscle coiled. Desperate, uninhibited sighs rolled from her lungs and out of her mouth. That neglected arousal throbbed, desperate to be relieved. He pulled away and she gave a plaintive whisper, bereft. There was a moist tasting sound. That did not help the pressure accumulated there. Lust spiked, totally enflaming her with desire. He was the master of torture.

Until he was there, everywhere. Without warning, he gave her all that he held dear. It was too much for her to contain. Eosi’s eyes went red, her body forcing itself back at him with the only leverage she had. She gasped, begged for more. Words and phrases she had never before uttered were spewing freely from her lips. She pled in foul language, expressed sensation through sound. His hand gripped at her hair while the other plied her hip with a few well-placed slaps. It was incredible – each nerve had been so ready that now they screamed. Her wrists struggled against the makeshift shackles for the first time.

It wasn’t long at all before she began that ascent. The scent of his skin was still with her. The sound of her own desire boiled from her throat, now a musical climb. Each note was higher still, coiling muscles beginning to clench and unclench. She wanted the deepest kind of awareness again, this time with more violence. He seemed to want this too. He truly took her, leaving nothing barren and dry. Her whole body was trembling. The word yes, an oath. It gasped into the air, barely audible. And then, “Leo.” That was all she had left before her mind fell to ruin.

It was impossible to tell if he used the power or not. It was truly that sublime. The feeling was a transmission, a wave of total euphoria rolling through her skin. Each part of her twitched and flexed, from her feet to her face. It was the thick scent of springtime pollen and her first kiss and the moment he said he loved her, all together. It was blinding ecstasy, the kind that truly can’t be named. This was no short burst of insanity. No, her Master was not done yet. Instead it was a spiral into madness, one of the slowest variety. Had there been a pillow, she might’ve screamed into it. It was all she had to keep her teeth locked, enamel popping and grinding together.

After how long, it subsided. Eosi lie there, spent. Wasted. The air was punctuated by the slow sound of their breathing. There was truly not a since iota of anything resembling energy left in her. Had she tried to summon Res, she would have gotten an “out of order” message. The silly idea gave her a light chuckle. Everything else forgotten and still clearly bound, she wondered if Leo would come to her or let her stay on the floor. He put on a convincing performance as Master. She purred at the thought, consciousness wavering.

[Leo Varniak]

There was joy beyond words, beyond worlds, to his slow fighting retreat from control, to her dissolving his constraints, slipping them off like beads on a bracelet. Joy in the giving and in the taking, in the self and the other, within and without, above and below. There was joy to love, to desire and to lust. There was joy to understanding and comprehension, to the fog that gave its own shade of supreme clarity. There was joy behind the eyes and inside the heart, pooling down and overflowing, never settling for a single instant. There was so much joy that the master faltered once, his smile betraying her expectations, but he had no regrets. None whatsoever.

There would be no mark, no power from the gods this time; only them. No symbols, no outside interference no matter how sacred, no metaphors and no struggle of wills. They were one in this from start to end. Leo's world was contained in the tightness of her flesh and his time flowed with the accelerated rhythm of their breathing. His language was that of her crazed utterances, and his mouth had regard for nothing but her lingering taste. As he retreated within the infinitesimal space of their bodies, his awareness embraced the infinity of what it meant to be dual. To be himself and yet be another; to see the jagged edges of two souls and find the matching contours there. Such was love, compassionate and merciless, wonderful and deadly, master and slave.

He desperately tried to pace himself, but found that his body was no longer obeying his commands. He leaned forward into her, almost turning into her shadow - the only thing that would be touching her more than he. Changing his timing and angle of attack, the outermost winds of his hot breath tickled Eosi's neck as he did. It was the last act and he knew it. Sometimes the true essence of joy was not diminished by its temporary nature; on the contrary, the very fact it was fleeting and transcendent made it all the more precious. He felt her ecstasy building up through his heart even before he did through the sensitivity of Ivak's mark. It drove him on, as if possessed, until she was exactly where he wanted her to be, calling his name before plunging into the only abyss that climbed upwards.

His task accomplished, he allowed himself to spread his wings in close pursuit. His fingers clenched tight around her beautiful mane and he gave a long, almost threatening growl as he drowned in her, his vision dimming and throbbing at the edges. An incontrollable shiver traveled up and down his spine, his mind frozen in time and cast into some optical illusion with impossible staircases. He could swear his joy had become a tangible entity in the world, and his own body had turned into a ghost in an act of poetic justice. It was impossible to tell which one was more real. Slowly, ever so slowly, his grip on Eosi's hair relaxed as his chest came to completely rest on her back, taking pride in her scent and the slickness of her sweaty skin where it showed through the rips and tears like the sun through a layer of clouds.

No words were spoken for a while. If the truth be told, even if Leo had been in possession of his full mind, he wouldn't have known what to say. They had explored parts of each other he hadn't known existed, and the return to normalcy might require a little adjustment. Could they simply slip in and out of it on a whim and resume like nothing ever happened? It certainly gave him much to think about. The feeling of utter gratification appeased him and tempted him to just lie down on the floor with her, but he fought it and disentangled himself from his love, kneeling wordlessly by her side and undoing her shackles with a few swift movements. The rags were quickly discarded and, upon noticing the crimson they had left on her, he took her hands in his and planted a kiss on her tormented wrists. It served as a signal that the sun had turned back from vermillion to golden.

He laid his body down next to hers and simply enjoyed the eye contact for a while. "I love you," he said simply, his eloquence failing him in this circumstance. Then again, they had been stripped bare of anything but their raw cores, and flowery speech would not do. Not here, not now. He arched his brow. "There is no reason to worry. I know where the staff keep their spare clothing. It was a beautiful dress, yet I can't say I'm sorry to see it go." He grinned with no shame in his world. "I'll buy you a new one, but I wonder how long it will last."