Into the Tiger's Den

Shiress and Zavya meet again

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A city floating in the center of a lake, Ravok is a place of dark beauty, romance and culture. Behind it all though is the presence of Rhysol, God of Evil and Betrayal. The city is controlled by The Black Sun, a religious organization devoted to Rhysol. [Lore]

Into the Tiger's Den

Postby Shiress on January 7th, 2019, 2:39 am

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Shiress stared in disbelief at the long length of leather jutting from the slave Master's grip, her backward step matching the man's forward motion as he strolled through the door, as a sudden bolder of fear settled into her gut. This was no game of survival, no game of escape. Shiress was trapped and she was caught with a madman seeking to sate a sadistic appetite. And there were no heroes

Shock of what was to come stilled the girl, her feet seemingly nailed to the wooden floor beneath her. Even as she watched Zavya being tied and forced to her knees, Shiress watched wide-eyed, disbelieving, frozen. It wasn't until she felt the guard behind her stir that she struggled. A feeble attempt, but as her arms were wrenched skyward and shackled, defiance came alive in her eyes.

Even as her shoulders ached and her muscles burned, the tips of her toes barely able to support her weight, Shiress glared at the Master each time he passed into view as he circled her, her lip curling into a silent snarl as his tongue spewed forth his vile words. To his question, Shiress remained silent, defiant.

Ryker circled again, this time pausing behind Shiress. She cringed as the cold tip of leather touched her bare flesh.

"Ah, I see you have played this game before." he remarked, tracing the fine white lines of lash marks that forming crisscross patterns across Shiress's back. Leaning in close to her ear, his voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, "Your name, girl"

The feel of the man's breath on her flesh made her stomach churn."Go petch yourself!" she spat, surprising even herself of how steady her voice sounded.

"Petulant, just as Zavya." he replied, coming around to stand in front of Shiress again, jaw clenching and unclenching as his temper wavered. "Tell our guest what happens to petulant females, Slave."

Ryker did not wait for a reply, nor did he want one. Drawing back the flogger, he lashed out, dragging a line of fire across Shiress's right side. Shiress flung her head back in a wordless cry, unable to draw breath as pain ripped the air from her lungs. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes when she finally lowered her face again. Zavya had evidently cried out on her behalf, for now, a bright red welt ran across her jawline, and her Master now hovered above her, chest heaving as his temper finally was spent.

Turning back to Shiress again he demanded her name but this time didn't wait to see if she would give it. Fire erupted along Shiress's left side, the tops of her thighs, her chest, and finally, her back as Ryker lashed out over and over as he circled the dangling female, chunks of long chestnut locks ripping free in the wake of every slash. By the time he stayed his hand, Shiress was screaming her name, tears running rivulets down her cheeks, shoulder's aching as her knees had buckled.

The pain he had inflicted seemed to have sobered the man, bringing his temper under control. Satisfied him in a way Shiress never wanted to witness again. Ryker strolled toward her, his eyes roaming her bare form with a hungry smile curling his lips. "Shiress" he purred, "Such a beautiful name for a beautiful girl" Lifting a hand he squeezed Shiress's breast painfully, then leaned forward as if he would kiss her.

"Don't do this." Shiress cried, her voice quivering "You don't want to this."

Ryker drew back, feigning shock "Don't I?" he said, then adopted a thoughtful expression. "You know, maybe you are right."

Ryker spun and hauled Zavya to her feet. Releasing the knife from his belt he freed one of the Slave's hand, shoving the whip into her fist.

"Strike her! he demanded.

Shiress's eyes flew wide, head shaking in horror. "No!" she said, hearing her friend's likewise begging.

"Strike her now!"

"No dont, please!"

The man moved in beside Shiress leaning close to the girl as not to allow his slave close proximity. With his knife, he drew a long thin line of crimson across Shiress's ribs.

Shiress screamed.

"Strike her, Zavya!" he yelled, voice filled with a manic desire

"Don't do it, Zavya." Shiress's cried.

Another thin line appeared beneath the first, again Shiress screamed.

"Strike her or I will continue to carve her into pulp."

The blade slid across Shiress's flesh again, and now her screams mingled with Ryker's demand as his knife moved.

"Strike her!"

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Into the Tiger's Den

Postby Zavya on January 7th, 2019, 5:01 am

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Each strike, each scream, each plea carved another mark on Zavya’s heart, watching in horror as Ryker mercilessly inflicted the punishment she’d known so many times upon Shiress’s flesh. “Please!” she cried, struggling harder against the bonds that held her, unable to bear watching any longer. “Please! Stop! Hurt me instead… just… stop!!!”

Her begging fell on deaf ears, the flogger caressing Shiress’s body again and again with the deft efficiency of a single-minded psychopath. The Kelvic’s only reward for her intervention was the furious face of her master turning in her direction and snapping the whip toward her. Crimson lines of agony spread themselves across her face and neck, just hard enough to draw sluggish lines of blood across the olive tone of her flesh. Yowling, she reeled back, though hogtied as she was, there was nowhere for her to go.

Ryker’s attention turned back to Shiress, continuing in the same pattern as before, a smile of satisfaction gracing his features when she at last gave her name. When his hand came to cup her breast, leaning in close to the woman’s face, Zavya’s efforts to free herself redoubled. “Get your petching hands off of her!” she growled, the comforting sizzle of rage burning under her skin.

And to her surprise, he did. But what came next made her wish she hadn’t said anything, Ryker freeing her hands and thrusting the handle of the whip into suddenly cold fingers. Strike her.

“No,” she whispered, the torturous weapon nearly falling from her numb grasp. “I-I can’t…”

Strike her, Zavya!

His knife started carving at the heavily scarred flesh that covered her friend’s body, diligently creating new ones to join the old. The tigress looked on in horror, the handle of the flogger trembling in her fist. Did he really think she would do such a thing? She thought she knew the depths of his depravity, but this…

Strike her or I will continue to carve her into pulp.

Zavya knew it was not an idle threat, and she had a decision to make… and fast. Each heartwrenching scream that came from Shiress’s lips was like a lash on her ears, watching as the blood welled up from each cut and sluggishly ran down her body. Could she contribute to Shiress’s pain? Or should she sit here and watch her fall under the hands of the one who’d caused so much suffering of her own?

The agonized frenzy of the room bore down on her, Zavya’s heart pounding in her ears. Her grip tightened on the flogger, her fingers white-knuckled as she looked between Shiress and Ryker. There was no easy way out of this. And if she didn’t decide soon, she was afraid there would be nothing left of Shiress to save. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. Her choice was clear.

Strike her!

Zavya struck.

But not Shiress, no, never her. The look of pure shock on Ryker’s face was almost laughable, had the tigress an ounce left of humor in her body. She took that brief lapse to loosen the rope around her ankles enough to break free, shedding her ties and rising to her feet. In that moment, her fear was gone, that fear replaced by a deep and abiding anger that filled every molecule of her wiry frame. A fury built of months upon months of torture and pain, months upon months of fearing every moment would be her last. That rage built in Zavya, compounding on itself until it shone in the fire of her golden gaze, flushing her face with crimson borne of the anger that sustained her. Within that anger, there was a center of calm, of absolute certainty, and she recalled the words of Fang all those weeks ago…

You can only beat a dog for so long before it turns on you.

Again she struck, again and again and again, wherever she could reach. There was no skill or finesse to her movements, only pure and unbridled fury that had been contained for far too long. Each strike held the full force of months of pent up aggression, months of longing for such an opportunity, months of sheer hell. Something within the slave broke, all sense of decency gone, and she would make sure Ryker knew the full force of the pain he had caused. A feral snarl ripped from her throat as she advanced on him further, watching with her own sadistic joy as scarlet welts raised on whatever flesh was bared. He would know the beast he thought to tame. He would know just how savage his precious tiger was.

Ryker raised his arms to protect his face, his cries of anguish sweet music to Zavya’s ears. It only encouraged her to further heights, bringing the flogger down with as much force as she could muster. But it wasn’t long before the man regained his senses, managing to catch hold of the end of it and yank it from her grasp. Cold eyes, colder than anything she’d ever seen, stared at her as he pulled the weapon back into his own hand, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“You will pay for that, slave.”

Quick as lightning, the whip struck, wrapping itself around her throat as he pulled her in closer. Zavya gagged as the leather tightened, clawing desperately at the stranglehold he had on her neck. His steel blues were alight with triumph as he tugged on the whip, Zavya fighting for breath. His knife raised to her face, the tip of it set against her cheekbone. A quick slash across each cheek had her whimpering before the edge sat just below her eye.

“Remember, you asked for this,” he hissed as he started to dig in, the Kelvic managing her own scream as the knife threatened to pluck her eye from her very skull. Blood poured down her face in a sanguine waterfall, her high-pitched keening deafening in its intensity.

“I… asked… for nothing…” she finally forced out between shallow breaths, her foot slamming down on his instep with all the force she could muster. A howl of pain sounded in response before a punch landed in his gut—his own breath leaving him in a whoosh.

It was enough to cause him to lose his grip, Zavya taking advantage of that moment to wrench the whip back into her grasp. Quickly disentangling it from her throat, she took a firm hold of the handle and raised it to strike again. Two quick snaps created slashes on his own face that mirrored the ones he’d given her. “But you definitely asked for this!

Much as Shiress had done with the guard from before, she brought the handle of the whip against Ryker’s head as hard as she could, hoping against hope that she struck true. It was all she could do not to cheer as his eyes rolled back in his skull, slumping forward to his knees and finally to the floor. The gratification she felt at watching him splayed before her was indescribable. A sense of triumph she’d never known glowed through her as she knelt next to his prone body.

Grabbing his face, a barbed tongue swiped slowly at the slashes she’d created, audibly groaning at the rich flavor that flooded her senses. It was even better than she’d imagined it would be, her mouth stained red as she pulled back and licked her lips. She closed her eyes briefly to savor the taste before she rose back to her feet and glared down at him in utter contempt.

The Kelvic took a few deep breaths to regain her composure, unable to describe the thrill that shivered through her veins. It nearly frightened her, the intensity of the ecstasy she felt gazing down at his sprawled body. But there would be time enough later to contemplate the morality of what she’d done. They had to get out of here.

Zavya leaned down to swipe the knife from Ryker’s limp grasp, walking over to Shiress and severing the rope that held her suspended. A brief inspection assured her that while bruised and battered, Shiress would survive. But if they remained, she was quite certain that would no longer be the case. “Come on,” she rasped, slinging the girl’s arm over her shoulders. “We have to go. We can’t be here when he wakes up.”

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Into the Tiger's Den

Postby Shiress on January 9th, 2019, 4:18 pm

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Shiress moaned as strained muscles suddenly came free. She was eternally grateful of Zavya's support, unsure if she would have kept her feet beneath her as her full weight met the floor.

The confrontation between her companion and her Master was a haze of blurred memory, remembered through a veil of agony, but as the two females made their way quickly through the large house, parts of it came back to the girl in stages, mainly the finale. Shiress's mind cleared enough to wonder why Zavya had not killed her Master, ended him and her enslavement completely. Only a moment later Shiress realized that Zavya hadn't acted for her own benefit, but her's. Another savior, it would seem. Tears sprang to the girl's eyes upon the realization, and a small sob escaped through clench teeth before she could contain it.

Shiress hesitated in their flight, gently putting a hand on the woman's shoulder to slow their pace. Looking up, her mouth opened to speak, but no words came only more tears. Shiress played off her discomfort with a weak smile and plunged a hand within her bag that she had managed to snatch from the ground before leaving the room. She pulled the extra cloak from the container and handed it to Zavya, then wrapped her own about her shoulder's, frowning as the motion pulled at her burning wounds. She cleared throat and shuttered; her throat was raw and painful from all the screaming. She cleared it again, this time more cautiously.

"We can go," she began, finger's going to her throat in reaction to her rasping voice "to Caldera Manor, you'll be safe there."

Shiress gratefully let her companion lead the way through the house, their steps quiet and heedful. Once they had stepped out into the night, Shiress allowed her shoulders to relax and took a thankful breath when they reached the end of the property. A ravosala floated just beyond the dock, and Shiress lifted an arm, hailing the driver. Many things can be said about a Ravosalaman, but one truth that Shiress was thoroughly thankful for this night was they asked no questions.

Shiress told the man where they were to be taken, then settled down into the boat, Zavya doing the same close by. The driver turned his back, and they were underway. For much of the journey, Shiress was quiet and still, refusing to reflect on the evening's misadventures, but toward the end of their ride, Shiress slid nearer to the Tigress, wrapping an arm around her, holding her tightly. She wasn't sure if she was trying to comfort Zavya or herself and she didn't care. It just felt good.

The Ravosalaman pulled deftly up to the dock outside the manor, holding the vessel still as Shiress and Zavya disembarked. After assuring the man that someone would return with his payment, and a nice tip for his companionable silence, Shiress grabbed her friend by the hand and lead her away.

They entered the house and into a large foyer. A dining hall sat to the right, a huge candle chandelier swung above a rectangular glass table. Beyond the dining hall was an oversized and very elaborate parlor. They hadn't made it ten feet into the parlor before their progress was halted by a tall, greying man. The man was in his sixties, his thick, wispy beard and mustache having more grey than not, but the butler was handsome, and his brown eyes were sharp and held a level of intelligence that Shiress had come to respect.

"Mr. Rueger is.."

"Alaric" the man corrected, smiling.

"Alaric." Shiress acknowledged, looking a bit contrite. Her words still came out in a rasp, but if the butler noticed, it didn't show "is Elias home?"

Alaric shook his head "No ma'am, the commander is out of the house for a time. Maybe two days."

Shiress let out a breath she hadn't realize she was holding, relaxing. "Good" she breathed, then straightened realizing how that must have sounded "That is to say I wouldn't want to bother him."

Alaric nodded knowingly, his gaze flicking to Zavya, taking in her bloodstained appearance no doubt, then back to Shiress. She hesitated, pulling a lock of tangled hair from her face, securing it behind an ear. "I'll be going to the bedchambers, can you send Isabella to me, please?"

Alaric nodded again, and Shiress stepped by him, but paused, looking back "Oh and Alaric." The man stopped, looking back over his shoulder and to Shiress's surprise, held up a forestalling hand. "My discretion comes mandatory, my lady." Shiress could have thrown her arms around the man, but instead dipped her head. She should have known that being employed by a Caldera the question of him keeping a secret would have been foreseen.

Shiress led Zavya to the bedroom where, of course, Isabella awaited within. How the woman beat them there, Shiress would forever wonder. As soon as She had opened the door, Bella was there, embracing her. "Where have you been! I have..." The woman stopped mid-sentence as Shiress let out a gasp of pain, her hug causing a wave of pain throughout her torso. Bella stepped back, looking alarmed, then threw open the girl's cloak, hand going to her mouth when she saw the cuts Ryker's blade had carved into Shiress's skin.

"Shiress, how..what...who did this!"

"It's a long story. Shiress wrapped the opening of the cloak back around herself "one I hope can wait to tell." she added, giving Bella a look. Bella snapped her mouth closed, nodding "Of course, of course." Her gaze moved to Zavya, but before she could ask Shiress introduced her companion.

"This is Zavya, she's a very good friend and will be staying for a few days.' She said, taking the Kelvic by the hand. A hush fell over the three females, Isabella looking utterly concerned for Shiress and Zavya, they looking pitiful. It was Isabella that broke the awkward silence.

"Well, Zavya, any friend of Shiress's is mine as well. I am Isabella; you can call me Bella if you wish. I am Shiress's handmaiden and yours while you are here." she turned to Shiress. "I will see to getting you two some nightdresses, warm water, and some medical supplies." Bella bowed and left, the door clicking softly closed behind her.

Just like that, it was done.

Shiress began to tremble all over.

A short time later, faster than Shiress would have thought possible, she heard Bella return. The woman padded softly into the room, leaving the collected items on a bedside table. Turning to go, she gave Zavya a polite bow. "I'll be back to check on you and Shiress to see if you need anything further in a bit." she said, giving Shiress a concerned glance, before exiting the room once again.

What had started a stress-fueled venture to visit a friend had ended in pain and torture: Ryker, knives, whips, pain, butler's, handmaidens, subservience, and no Elias. Even though she was relieved that Elias was not present, a part of her longed for his arms to be around her, to hold her, comfort her.

It was all just too much.

Shiress turned to Zavya, mouth opening to speak, but the night's misery won out. Hands covering her face, and after a tick, Shiress began to sob.

Caldera Manor

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Into the Tiger's Den

Postby Zavya on January 9th, 2019, 8:09 pm

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Zavya had no words to say as they began their flight from the house, the implications of what she’d done settling heavily on her shoulders. There would be no forgiveness this time, no meager punishment to contemplate her misbehavior. If Ryker found her again, he would kill her—of that, she had no doubt. Slaves did not beat their masters and live to tell the tale. But even so, if she could go back and do it all over again, she would change nothing. Shiress was alive and safe. That was all that mattered.

She nodded silently in thanks when the woman handed her a cloak, wrapping it around her body and stuffing her pilfered knife in one of the pockets. Both appropriately attired, the Kelvic wrapped a gentle arm around the sobbing Shiress’s waist, calmly propelling her forward and off the property as if she wasn’t a nervous wreck herself. She regretted nothing other than she hadn’t struck the final blow, but if she had done that… The Kelvic shook her head. No. There would be time enough to think of that later. If and when her master found her, she’d have her chance. And she’d make sure he never found her again—one way or another.

Her silence continued through the ravosala ride, a protective arm wrapped around her companion as the little boat carried them through the canals of the city. Caldera Manor. Home of the Ebonstryfe commander and now Shiress. Her friend claimed she would be safe there, but Zavya was not so sure. Could she trust a Stryfer to keep her secret? Or would he simply hand her back over to her master and collect the reward?

When they arrived, Zavya’s tension doubled, golden eyes darting back and forth as they made their way to the door. Every moment she was sure would be their last, some unknown trap waiting and ready to be sprung. Upon entering, her gaze widened even further, taking in the dark opulence that rivaled even the home of her master. Elias Caldera was a wealthy man, it would seem, though she’d never doubted that. However, the physical manifestations of such wealth were enough to send her reeling, and it made her wonder how Shiress, a former slave herself, felt about living amidst such magnificence.

Their progression was halted by another, and it was all Zavya could do not to hiss and flinch away. Every nerve in her body was on end, and now that the adrenaline was starting to fade, a deep-seated ache filled her bones. Her condition wasn’t as bad as her friend’s, but she’d sustained quite a bit of damage of her own, notably the ligature marks around her neck and the attempted gouging of her eye. The tiger’s face up until that night had been one of the few parts of her body that sustained no scars, but that was no longer the case. Every time she looked in the mirror, she would see the evidence of Ryker’s cruelty, and it only made her hate him that much more.

The Kelvic’s characteristic silence remained throughout their interaction with the butler, who she learned was named Alaric, though she couldn’t help the massive sigh of relief that parted her lips when he told them Elias wasn’t home. At least that was one weight off her shoulders, one worry that could be lifted and dealt with later. When they continued on into the bedroom, yet another servant awaited them, one named Isabella who offered her services to them both. The thought of the woman waiting on her while she was here made her deeply uncomfortable, and so she did her best to simply disregard the woman’s offer entirely. Zavya was a slave; no one waited on her. She hated any reminders of servitude, even in others. She wondered if that was how Shiress felt about it, as well.

When the woman left the room, at last, it was only then that Zavya spoke, turning to her companion with a sigh. “I’m so sorry, Shiress,” she whispered, looking into the woman’s pained eyes and taking all the blame on herself. “I’m so sorry you bore the brunt of this… I…”

Zavya looked up as the woman returned, indignant that she should have moved so quickly. She lapsed back into silence until Isabella left again, unwilling for the handmaiden to hear what she had to say. Once she was gone again, she turned back to face Shiress, but the expression on her face and the tears that poured from her eyes stole the words right from the tiger’s mouth. The Kelvic often had a hard time understanding the range of human emotion, but this pain she understood all too well.

Hesitant at first, she stepped over to where Shiress stood with her head in her hands. She paused for a moment before taking her hands and folding her in a gentle embrace, remaining mindful of the injuries she’d sustained. One hand gently stroked her hair as the other cradled her body, pulling her in close and offering whatever comfort she could. Zavya would do her best to show her friend that same kindness and gentleness Shiress had been the first to show her.

The Kelvic was used to pain; it was an everyday aspect of her life. But to see Shiress suffer tugged at her heart in ways she didn’t understand. Anger, guilt, worry, gratitude, compassion—they all gelled together in her belly in a confusing stew of emotion she wasn’t sure how to sort out. For now, she would simply offer what comfort she could, holding her friend as she sobbed herself out.

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Into the Tiger's Den

Postby Shiress on January 10th, 2019, 6:26 pm

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The comfort that Zavya's embrace fostered within Shiress was immeasurable at that moment. If the girl could have spoken her gratitude, the declaration would not have been adequate in expressing it.

The gentle, solace touch warmed Shiress, and she began to feel the tenseness that had suddenly overcome her diminish. Gradually, her arms relaxed and coasted up the length of the Kelvic's back, returning the embrace, tears slowly abating.

Long after what was necessary, Shiress held onto the embrace, arms tightening around the woman, pulling her closer, savoring the softness of zavya's form against hers. Unlike Elias, Zavya felt delicate and small within her grasp, gentle femininity that was surprisingly pleasing to Shiress. The Kelvic smelled of flowers and cinnamon and a sweet musk that the girl longed to bury her senses in.

Shiress took in a steadying breath, noticing for the first time that her heartbeat had quickened, her body tensing again, shocked that her hands had vacated the woman's back and now rested in the soft curve of her waist. She stiffened, emerald gaze lifting in confused embarrassment, but when her green eyes met with the molten gold of Zavya's Shiress felt the control of something altogether alien take hold of her. Her eyes drifted to the woman's lips as she felt herself slowly leaning forward.

When Shiress felt her lips press against Zavya's everything went still and quiet like the moment of pregnant silence between lightning and thunder, the coppery bite of her Master's blood still lingering on her lips. Wild tremors raced along her nerves, evoking from her sensations she had never known she was capable of feeling at a woman's touch. Shiress lifted a hand, letting gentle fingers glide over the Kelvic's ear and slip into her dark tresses, the other trailing along the rise of Zavya's hip, long lost to her own audacity.

This is wrong!

Was it wrong?

A sudden wave of indeterminate guilt washed over Shiress. Was it wrong? Zavya was a Kelvic, would this be somehow traitorous to her and Rook's bond? Was she disloyal to Elias?

Shiress gently released the kiss, her breath warm and erratic against Zavya's lips.

"I'm sorry." she whispered, heat rising to her cheeks as she moved backward away from her companion. "I was overcome by..." Shiress licked her lips, then cleared her throat, now thoroughly unsure and confused as to what did overcome her. She hesitated, then cleared her throat again.

"I should see about your eye."

Shiress flicked her eyes up to Zavya, then quickly turned, slapping a hand over the offending lips as she moved away. A part of her grieved the loss of how the sudden gesture had made her feel, the lingering feel of the kiss, the other half doused in embarrassment. She came to the table where the supplies had been discarded and pressed the palms of her hands onto its wooden top, drawing in deep breaths. What had she been thinking?! What would Elias say if he had seen her? Or Rook?

Casting a doleful look skyward, Shiress drew in the last breath, then gathered the medical supplies and turned back toward her friend.

"Let's get you cleaned up." she said flashing an uncertain smile to where Zavya stood, eyes locked in a downcast glare.

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Into the Tiger's Den

Postby Zavya on January 12th, 2019, 6:04 pm

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That embrace lasted far longer than the Kelvic expected, and the longer it went on, the more the mood of the room shifted. Shiress’s arms wrapped more firmly around her, drawing her in closer as gentle caresses bathed her back and sides. Zavya’s heart caught in her throat, shivering as emerald eyes captivated hers. A bated silence stretched eternally between them before soft lips at last met her own.

The tiger was frozen in place, stiff and paralyzed as the sweet touch of Shiress’s lips overwhelmed everything else that had occurred that night. Zavya was unsure how to react, the woman’s kiss unlike any she’d known before. Every touch of Ryker’s mouth had possessed an undertone of violence, dominance, and cruelty, but Shiress’s held none of that. There was only tenderness and a poignant longing that neither of them seemed to know to how to address.

After a tick or two, molten eyes fluttered closed, Shiress’s fingers weaving into her hair and deepening the kiss. The Kelvic relaxed fractionally into her embrace, her own hand hesitantly settling on her hip before Shiress stumbled back, the air of confused lust suddenly clouded by uncertainty. Stuttered apologies and flaming cheeks followed in her wake as she moved over to the table where the servant had left the medical supplies, leaving Zavya with a burning sense of loss and her own conflicted desire.

Fingertips reached up to tap lightly against her blood-flecked lips with a soft exhale. What had just happened? Why had it stopped? Did she want it to continue, or was it better to let it lapse into obscurity and never speak of it again?

There was a rising tide in her blood, a searing heat Zavya had never felt before. It was an emotion she was hard put to identify, one somewhat reminiscent of the dark nights of passion that had been forced on her for the past two seasons, but one that was devoid of the fear and dread that accompanied them. It pulsed through her veins in perplexed chaos and before she knew what she was doing, the tigress stepped forward and took gentle hold of her flustered friend’s arm.

It was a feeling she wanted to chase, though she knew not why. A feeling that overwhelmed her as her nerves throbbed with an intensity that confounded her. Zavya carefully plucked the bandages and antiseptic from Shiress’s hands and set them to the side, turning the woman to face her more fully. Her own hands traced gently down the sides of the woman’s face, cupping her chin and tilting her face up to meet her eyes.

At first, Zavya thought she might say something, anything to break that strained silence that followed Shiress’s unexpected actions. But when green met gold, all thoughts of speech left her mind, erased and forgotten without knowing what it ever was she meant to say. A shivering breath parted her lips before she leaned down to close the scant distance between them and recapture her mouth with her own.

A soft groan akin to a purr rumbled in the back of her throat as their mouths collided once more, Zavya’s lips slowly and carefully caressing hers. Bells of fear, anger, and violence had merged and coalesced into a muddled flurry of emotion that the Kelvic had no outlet for. That tangled knot in her stomach had morphed into something altogether different in the aftermath of their evening’s misadventures, and it was that something different that pushed one of Zavya’s hands into Shiress’s hair, the other settling itself in the small of her back and pulling her in closer until she was drowning in the wafting scent of vanilla and roses—a scent that stirred her in previously unknown ways. She was reluctant to part from her again, desperate to banish the nightmares that had plagued her for so long and replace them with daydreams that much sweeter.

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Zavya
Hear me roar
 
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Into the Tiger's Den

Postby Shiress on January 12th, 2019, 9:25 pm

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WarningReader discretion advised. Smexy stuff to come

When at first Zavya had moved closer to Shiress, the girl completely expected words, explanation to why Shiress shouldn't have done that and why Zavya wouldn't tolerate it happening again. So, when Shiress saw the familiar desire reflecting in the Kelvic's gaze just before her lips descended, several things occurred all at once. Embarrassment and confusion vanished, replaced by a confidence Shiress had no idea came from. The burning and jagged pain of her knife wounds faded and numbed; they being replaced with a humming vibration of anticipation blanketing her skin, and when the sound of Zavya's soft groan reached her ears, the kindled desire within Shiress's core ignited, joining with Zavya's own palpable want to become a blazing inferno.

There was no stopping it now.

Leaning into the kiss with desperate abandon, hands going to either side of the woman's head, burying fingers into long hair, Shiress's mouth parted, tongue slipping out to skim the surface of the Kelvic's soft lips, seeking gentle entry between them. When granted the girl expelled a soft gasp of surprise against the woman's mouth, realizing that the Kelvic's tongue was rough, much more like a cat's tongue than Shiress had anticipated. The kiss resumed with growing ardor, Shiress's tongue moving with passion and skill against a more reserved and hesitant companion. Had Zavya ever been kissed before? Of course, she must have been, but was it a forced kiss or one of pure, genuine desire? Shiress didn't have to think much to conclude that the woman most likely hadn't seen any true compassion in her short life. A small knowing smile forced its way between the two females lips.

Zavya would know that this night.

Shiress's hand drifted downward, gently pushing back the cloak from Zavya's shoulders, then sliding it from her arms to land on the floor in a soft rustle of fabric. She stepped forward, her motion pressing her body firmly against Zavya's bare form, encouraging the woman to step backward toward the bed, her lips never breaking from the kiss. On the one hand, Shiress had absolutely no idea what she was doing, but on the other, she knew exactly what to do. Shiress was a female. Zavya was a female. It didn't take much of an imagination to understand what the other woman wanted, needed, to please her. Thankfully, Shiress was well informed on what pleased herself -Elias was a formidable lover- and she would do her best to channel that skill and send her current lover tipping over the edge.

Shiress followed Zavya onto the bed, her companion crawling backward up to the pillows, Shiress crawling over top the woman to straddle her. At last, Shiress broke the kiss, sitting up straight to admire the creature beneath her. There was no need to feign admiration for what she saw. Zavya's body was slender and firm and deliciously curvaceous. A spark of unabashed passion ignited in Shiress's eyes as her emerald gaze traveled the woman's lush curves, captivating her within a chime of pure appreciation of such perfection.

Shiress released herself from the stymieing confines of her cloak, tossing it to the floor before leaning down to capture the woman's lips with her own once again, her body straightening out atop Zavya's pressing the two bare forms together. For an instant Shiress feared she would frighten the other woman, knowing that she was surely unused to such closeness. She moved her lips to the dip of Zavya's neck, running her tongue along the tender flesh to her ear.

"Let me show you what making love feels like." she whispered.

Shiress's lips trailed from Zavya's neck to her collarbone, lips, tongue, and teeth working in unison to kiss and tug at sensitive skin. Her hand snaked over the woman's lithe form to the soft rise of her breast, taking its erect tip of one between her fingers, squeezing gently. Her mouth followed, finding the other and taking it's tip between her teeth, pulling and nibbling until she got the response she wanted. Slowly, almost brutally so, Shiress's hand vacated the woman's chest, gliding across a flat, firm stomach before descending into the warmth between Zavya's thighs. The readiness that Shiress found there only fueled her ministrations with an elite desire to pleasure Zavya, her finger's gliding over the small mound of pleasure and into the depths of her lover's core, again and again, her mouth and tongue teasing at her breast.

Shiress lost herself in the feel and taste of Zavya, relishing in the nature of their union. Like Elias had done so many times with her, Shiress took her time, letting kisses linger and her fingers explore, reacting to the soft whimpers and moans from the Kelvic in kind. It wasn't until Shiress felt the silken walls surrounding her exploring fingers contract and loosen over and over that she began to descend fully, damp digits never leaving their sensuous playground, as the girl kissed and teased her way to the core of Zavya's desire.

Shiress breathed in deeply, basking in the woman's cinnamon musk before leaning in to taste it. She was gentle at first. Unlike some lovers, Shiress knew the sensitivity of where her tongue now played could be too much, and so she allowed a time of playful lashings and flicks from her tongue, her finger beginning a slow glide back and forth, her free hand shifting beneath Zavya, encouraging her hips to move pleasurably against Shiress's mouth. Gradually, Shiress allowed her motions to quicken and her mouth to descend fully onto Zavya's center, tasting her thoroughly, mouth, tongue, and hand all working simultaneously to drag Zavya over the precipice of ecstasy. Again the soft contractions filled Shiress's awareness, and when they had subsided, she paused, teasing slightly, before moving up to lay beside the Kelvic.

Gently, she caressed Zavya's face, waiting patiently for the woman's breaths to ease before pulling herself close, draping a leg across her thighs. She leaned in close to her ear.

"Now" she said, her voice quivering with a deep carnal need "touch me as I touched you."

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Into the Tiger's Den

Postby Zavya on January 14th, 2019, 3:41 am

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Zavya’s heart was in her throat as Shiress returned her advances, that tongue pushing past her lips and twining with her own. Shiress’s gasp of surprise nearly had her laughing until she remembered Ryker’s own… excited… shock upon discovering the rather unique form her mouth had taken. But thoughts of her master had no place here, and so she forcibly shoved them away. There was only this room, this woman, and as the ticks went on, she had no doubt of what would come next. The question was… was she ready?

As the other woman gently pushed her back to the bed, there was little time for her to contemplate her own desires before she found herself laid back and soft legs straddled over her own. Color rose across her skin under Shiress’s heated regard before the other woman discarded her own cloak and tossed it to the side. Zavya’s lip was pulled between her teeth as her searing gaze travelled leisurely down scarred curves, those pale, raised stripes only adding to her unparalleled beauty. They spoke a tale of a hard life lived, one so similar to Zavya’s own that it only made the Kelvic want her that much more. Shiress was a woman who understood. A woman who cared. A woman Zavya suddenly wanted more than anything in the world.

Even in spite of that wanting, the tigress couldn’t help stiffening as the woman’s tongue traced a path from her neck to her ear, shuddering at feelings she scarce understood. Her fingers tangled in the bedclothes beneath her, white-knuckled with anticipation before that mouth started carving an entirely different trail. That first touch against the raised peak of her breast had her gasping, eyes rolling back as she arched into her touch. Ryker had never bothered to ensure she was enjoying herself, taking his own pleasure and discarding her after. But Shiress… she seemed altogether determined to make sure that wasn’t so.

The warmth of Shiress’s mouth encapsulated its twin, Zavya’s fingers unclasping from the bedclothes and winding in thick chestnut tresses instead as teeth and tongue alike lashed the sensitive flesh. All doubts erased, she shivered underneath those caresses, the teasing of Shiress’s fingers down her body leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake. When they at last found their target, the Kelvic gasped aloud again, eyes flying open as a low moan vibrated past her lips. Little sounds of pleasure found their way from her throat, hips bucking helplessly against the relentless strokes of her hand.

Each touch of the woman’s mouth and stroke of her hand imprinted a different sort of love on her flesh, erasing and undoing the fear and hatred that had stamped her for so long. Each soft caress, each nibble, each swipe of her tongue replaced scars and cruelty, whips and chains, harsh words of condemnation and ownership. It wasn’t long before there was something else she didn’t recognize building in her core, each brush of Shiress’s thumb over the hidden pearl of her desire threatening to bring that something bursting forth—though Zavya knew not what that something was.

One more stroke, and Zavya was dissolving, shuddering and writhing as ecstasy devoured her whole. A sultry smile passed from Shiress’s lips to hers as the Kelvic collapsed back against the bed, breath heavy and eyes half-lidded—though she was to gain no reprieve. Not yet.

Shiress’s mouth soon joined her hand and if Zavya thought she knew pleasure before, it was as nothing compared to this. Shivers chased each other up and down her spine as playful flicks of the woman’s tongue teased her center, a breathless groan filling the room. Sweat coated her skin like dew, and the skillful play of the woman’s hand and mouth combined soon had her falling over the edge of euphoria again. Her ecstatic cries echoed back from the walls, fingers clutched tight in Shiress’s hair as she pulled every last drop of pleasure from the Kelvic’s heaving form.

At last, she settled back against the bed, lips parted as she attempted in vain to catch her breath. A wordless, trembling smile was cast in Shiress’s direction as the woman sidled up her body to twine their legs together and murmur in her ear,

Now, touch me as I have touched you.

Zavya’s eyes darkened at that, her tongue slowly tracing the outline of her lips. The tigress was only too happy to oblige with such a request, quickly and deftly shifting their position so that Shiress lay underneath her. The searing look that accompanied her action was that of a predator stalking her prey, lips caught up in hers before the woman could say another word.

The Kelvic tasted her own musk on the woman’s lips, her hand slowly and carefully travelling down the woman’s side to rest at her hip and pull her more firmly against her body. Before this night, Zavya may never have received her own pleasure, but she knew well how to give it. And give it, she would.

Slowly, ever so slowly, that barbed tongue traced a line from Shiress’s jaw to her shoulder, her hands caressing whatever flesh they could reach. Nails ran lightly down the woman’s sides as her head dipped to follow, stopping first to let the tip of her tongue tease against one rosy nipple. A slow circle was drawn around it before her mouth enveloped that sensitive flesh, gently and carefully pulling it between her lips and sucking. The other soon faced the same treatment, Zavya remaining mindful of elongated teeth that might nick the delicate skin. Her eyes closed as she sucked, fingers moving further still until, as Shiress had done, they teased and parted velvet folds to claim their prize.

The tiger’s tongue began to explore other areas of Shiress’s body, slowly and diligently tracing the paths her blood had taken and erasing those coppery trails from view. Further and further down she moved, the movements of her hand ceasing before Shiress could reach her climax. No. That… Zavya wanted to taste.

Her motions halted just as her nose reached the woman’s heated core, molten gaze seeking and probing for heated emerald. As soon as she was sure Shiress was watching, she drew a long line with her tongue against the satin folds she’d parted only chimes before. “Tell me if I hurt you,” was her husky whisper before her mouth moved in earnest, fingers curling around Shiress’s hips and pulling her in closer that she might taste her fully.

Zavya’s own tongue was as relentless as Shiress’s had been, delving further and further until she could feel those little tremors that denoted her own impending release. She paused for a long, agonizing tick, letting her breath play over the heat of her lust before her mouth took her again and let that honeyed sweetness envelop her senses. It was only another tick or two more before she could feel her endeavors had been successful, her tongue never stopping its motions until she was sure she had wrung out every last bit of ecstasy that she could.

Licking her lips, she pulled back at last, raising up from her position between the other woman’s legs and moving languorously up her form. Turning Shiress’s head to face hers, Zavya captured her mouth in another kiss, one that would let her taste herself just as the tiger had. A slow, catlike smile curled her lips as she broke the kiss, letting her hand stroke slowly down the side of Shiress’s cheek.

“Thank you,” she whispered, touching her forehead to Shiress’s. “For everything. For all of this. You… you are the most magnificent creature I’ve ever met. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”

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Zavya
Hear me roar
 
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Into the Tiger's Den

Postby Shiress on January 18th, 2019, 5:26 pm

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Zavya moved against Shiress's body with the ease of a trained lover. Mouth and tongue caressing and teasing had the girl's back arching off the bed beneath her even before the Kelvic had traveled below her chest, the Kelvic's barbed tongue sending waves of sweet heat radiating across sensitive, torn skin.

The girl's heated center ached for release as Zavya slowly descended to join her mouth with exploring fingers. Even if her compannion did cause her pain, Shiress would have been unable to express it; the woman had stolen her breath away long before.

Goose bumps erupted across flesh as silken black hair slid sensually across Shiress's flat stomach as Zavya slipped further down her body. Shiress's fingers tangled themselves into the woman's hair, losing herself in its soft touch against her flesh as she gently massaged the long locks against her breast, hips beginning to rock gently, breathless moans slipping between clenched teeth.

At last, Zavya leaned in earnestly against Shiress's need, causing hips to rise and fall until her body acclimated to the very new and very erotic sensation. Shiress gasped, mouth falling open in a soundless exclamation of pleasure as she rocked herself against Zavya, her hand falling to the top of the woman's head in gentle guidance. A building of tension at the girl's core bid her hips move faster, her hand pulling the Kelvic closer until the release burst apart within her. Shiress screamed her ecstasy into the darkened room until nothing but a whimper was left.

Zavya had was not finished with Shiress, however, and as she lowered herself yet again, Shiress writhed beneath her, hips bucking, until another loud groan of pleasure elicited from between Shiress's clenched teeth. Ticks past before her back relaxed against the soft mattress. She felt the other woman gliding up to her side, covering her lips with hers and the rich aroma of her own scent engulfed her senses.

Emerald eyes slid to Zavya as she spoke. Shiress smiled lazily at her friend, her hand lifting to pull rogue strands of hair from her face.

"As are you, my friend." she said "You are a beautiful woman who deserves beautiful things, Zavya."

Shiress slid into the brunette's arms, relaxing against her warm body, eyes sliding closed. After some time the bedroom door creaked open, and Isabella quietly slipped into the room, extinguishing candles. Stopping at the bed, looking down on the entwined female's, something unpleasant crossed the maids face. Shaking her head, Bella unfolded a blanket, draping it across Shiress and Zavya before exiting the room.

The night went still and quiet.

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Into the Tiger's Den

Postby Zavya on January 30th, 2019, 7:06 am

Grades!

 
Shiress
Skills Earned:
  • Endurance +2
  • Observation +4
  • Seduction +4
  • Socialization +5
  • Unarmed Combat +1
  • Weapon: Dagger +1
Lores:
  • Alaric: Butler of Caldera Manor
  • Isabella: Handmaiden
  • Kelvic Bond: Redirecting emotion to keep bondmate unaware of danger
  • Location: Caldera Manor
  • Location: Valdinox Estate
  • Lore of first kiss shared with Zavya
  • Ravosalamen: Don't ask questions
  • Ryker: A true sadist
  • Seduction: The art of pleasing a woman
  • Seduction: Slow and sweet gets better results
  • Self: Determined to see Zavya free, even if she has to buy her
  • Self: Disgusted by Ryker's treatment of Zavya
  • Self: Not adjusting well to freedom
  • Self: Wonders if time spent with Zavya is a betrayal to Rook and Elias
  • Zavya: Has a rough tongue
  • Zavya: Saved her from Ryker's torture
  • Zavya: Smells like flowers and cinnamon
Penalties: Whipmarks across both sides, tops of thighs, chest, and back; three knife slashes across ribs. Likely will scar.

Comments: This thread was fantastic, spectacular, wonderful, amazing, heartwrenching, sexy, and just altogether lovely. I adored every second of this adventure, just as I did our last, and I cannot wait for the plots to come!
 
Zavya
Skills Earned:
  • Endurance +2
  • Observation +5
  • Seduction +4
  • Socialization +5
  • Stealth +1
  • Unarmed Combat +2
  • Weapon: Flogger +1
Lores:
  • Alaric: Butler of Caldera Manor
  • Isabella: Shiress's handmaiden
  • Location: Caldera Manor
  • Location: Valdinox Estate
  • Lore of first kiss shared with Shiress
  • Mekaval: Forces Kelvics between forms
  • Seduction: The art of pleasing a woman
  • Seduction: First time feeling true desire
  • Self: Happy about Shiress's freedom, but jealous for her own
  • Self: Servitude in others makes her uncomfortable
  • Self: Would never harm Shiress, even under duress
  • Shiress: Freed by Elias Caldera
  • Shiress: Lives at Caldera Manor
  • Shiress: The most magnificent woman she's ever met
  • Shiress: Smells like vanilla and roses
  • Shiress: Used as punishment for Zavya's transgressions against Ryker
  • Unarmed Combat: Crippling an opponent by slamming on foot
Rewards: Now possesses one of Ryker's daggers

Penalties: Whipmarks across both sides of face, horizontal knife slashes across each cheekbone, ligature marks around throat, nearly gouged left eye leaving vertical mark down cheek; all will likely scar.


If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to PM me!
Zavya
Hear me roar
 
Posts: 139
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