Chapter 1: Day 1: Facesitting (ALT Helena & Ivory)
It always goes so fast.
Just a few minutes ago, Helena had been watching her beloved twirl around in her dress, silk flowing with her movement, weightless and ethereal.
Now, she finds herself pinned on the bed, locked in a kiss with Ivory, her fingers tangling in her hair.
The strap of her dress slides off her shoulder and Helena eagerly pushes it down further, while Ivory pulls her other arm out of the dress, letting it slip down her body with ease.
She sits up, straddling Helena, and looks down on her lover with a smirk. Her clawed fingers dance over her firm breasts, starlight shimmering on her skin. Her hair cascades down her bare upper body like a gentle stream making its way down a mountainside.
'Come and get me,' says her expression.
'Please,' her dilating pupils add, an unmaskable indicator for arousal.
Helena grabs the silken dress and rips it from Ivory's hips, tearing the fabric with little effort. Normally, she would have flipped Ivory on her back now, and had her way with her, but there's a tiny thought in her mind, making her hesitate.
“Love,...” she addresses her. “You're Queen now.”
Ivory's face lights up when she understands what Helena is implying.
“Are you asking me to rule over you?” she purrs, while trailing a claw along Helena's jawline.
Instead of responding, Helena grabs her hand and presses her lips against Ivory's feeding slit, feeling her hand tense up under her mouth.
She allows Helena to remain like this for a few seconds before pulling away. Her sharp teeth are visible under her smile when she leans down to kiss her.
Helena's hands trail down her spine, coming to rest on her hips.
“Closer.” she whispers against Ivory's lips.
Ivory sits up again, reaches out to dig her claws into the wall for leverage, then pulls herself forward. When she settles, her thighs rest on Helena's shoulders.
“Like this?” she asks, her gaze meets Helena's as she looks down.
“Exactly like this.” is Helena's sole response.
She takes the opportunity to suck a bruise into Ivory's inner thigh, but her fangs get in the way. For the moment before Ivory's regeneration kicks in, blood trickles from the small wound. Helena licks her thigh clean and smirks up at her lover, who still has her claws in the organic walls of her Hive.
The thin underwear Ivory wears stands little chance against Helena's hungry fangs when she tears it open in the crotch area, then reaches around Ivory's hip to yank the rest off.
Ivory inhales sharply when Helena's tongue slides along her labia. This is not new for her, no. She's had Helena's face between her legs countless times, but never like this.
Never so … in control.
It's easier for her when she's the one on her back, left with nothing but to react, but now, the liberty to move changes everything.
Helena's hands are on her lower back, providing stability without restricting her range of movement. Ivory breathes heavily, feeling Helena's tongue lazily circle her clit, humming innocently while glancing up at her every now and then.
Her eyes glimmer like rubies and Ivory reads a challenge in them.
She chooses to accept.
Her first move is slow and shy, her hips roll against Helena's mouth, and she's instantly rewarded with an increase in speed, a light nip on her clit that jolts up her spine like lightning.
“So, that is how you wish to play this game.” she whispers, her voice shaky and weak. Helena chuckles under her, and Ivory swears she sees her wink.
The tightness in Ivory's abdomen aches beautifully when she grinds against Helena's face, against the flat of her tongue. Her hands uncramp and let go of the wall. Ivory allows her full weight to rest on her lover's shoulders now, no longer concerned with being too bold.
She sets the tone now, Helena's the one who has to react and adapt to her, and she seems to know exactly what she's doing.
Between the rolls of Ivory's hips, Helena somehow managed to shift a little and push her tongue into her. Not far, of course, but the unexpected sensation does its job.
Ivory leans back, into Helena's hands who holds her up without fail, pushing her hand between her legs and spreading her labia.
Helena takes the cue and focuses her attention on Ivory's clitoris again. She seals her mouth on her and sucks, her tongue still dancing in circular patterns, seemingly tireless when trying to please her beloved.
Power isn't so bad.
Ivory indulges herself until the tightness spills over, tingling heat surging through her body. She throws her head back, her thighs pressing against her lover's face as she climaxes, the wet warmth of Helena's mouth still on her.
Dusk already knows that it will be a very long night for him. His Queen, his Horizon has this shimmer in her eyes, as she steps aside to let him into her quarters.
She's as beautiful as the night again, dressed in white cloth, her deep crimson hair open and untamed. It's gathered to the side and comes down on her front, leaving a glance on the large, intricate hive mark that sprawls over her entire back, fanning out like wings over her shoulder blades.
Without a word, she gestures to her bed, a sweet smile on her lips. Dusk's steps are careful and dainty, when he follows her invitation and sits down on the edge. A soft breeze hits him as Horizon moves toward him, her hand against his shoulder gently enticing him to lie down on the soft sheets.
Dusk closes his eyes, feeling Horizon's weight on his lap, the tickle of her hair as she creeps up on his chest.
Her lips meet his in a chaste kiss, just a few seconds before her pulls away, and runs her claws through his hair.
'Look at you,' her voice sings in his mind. 'Dusk, my beautiful Dusk...'
With a quiet clicking noise, she undoes his coat, pries it open. With any other Wraith, Dusk would have seen this action as a threat, baring the most opportune spot to feed from, but not with Horizon. The shiver that runs through him when Horizon's claws drag white lines over his chest is not one of fear.
'My Queen, please.' he speaks to her. 'Let me serve you.'
She lets him raise his hands to caress her face, tangle his fingers with her hair, but her response doesn't match her smile.
'No.' she says, simple and firm, then leans back down to scatter kisses from Dusk's neck down onto his chest, rising and falling with his breath.
Her touch is so tender, Dusk can't help but to let her proceed. He wraps his arms around her and closes his eyes, trying to simply enjoy the attention, but his body betrays him once again. He first feels it as pressure on his loins, blood gathering in his lower body. Still, he can ignore it.
This quickly changes when Horizon moves on his lap, and the first moan escapes his lips. Horizon purrs under her chuckle, then kisses him again. This time, her lips part and he feels her teeth on his own lower lip, gently nibbling.
Her hands wander, ending up on her hips, carefully trying to incline her to move. She does,just a little, and Dusk finds himself very short of breath.
'Please...' he asks of her, while desperately pressing himself against her. Her scent is all over him and he loves it. But he wants – needs! - more.
Horizon sits up, shifting her weight entirely onto Dusk's lap, her fingers trailing down his stomach, to his belt where they toy with the clasp.
'My Queen, please...' Dusk begs again, almost angry with himself for reacting so easily to her. She smiles at him and shakes her head.
There's just enough opportunity to move for him, just enough space to grind against her, but she never permits more than that. Dusk bites down on his lower lip when he feels a damp heat on his left nipple – Horizon's feeding mouth, casually running over the sensitive nub.
A sudden noise draws his attention away from her hand.
“Look at me.” she commands him, speaking aloud now and he instantly follows the order, making eye contact with her as her feeding hand comes down on his sternum.
Yes, he thinks, trying not to let her pick up on his thoughts, but he knows that she can.
Her Gift slowly creeps into his body, heat and power filling every cell of his being. His heartbeat speeds up, his nerves sing under her touch, the lock of her mind enveloping his. He trembles, pressure building at the base of his spine, but he manages to keep looking at her, feeling her weight of her gaze paralyze him.
'You taste like love.' her voice whispers into his mind and he can do nothing but to look at her longingly, while her energy fills him.
He's covered in sweat when she releases him, his dark blood shimmering like pearls on her hand. Nonchalantly, she reaches into her dress' pockets, producing a small piece of cloth from it, which she then lightly dabs on her palm, cleaning the blood away.
Dusk watches her with halted breath, but his predicament is not about to get any better.
Horizon gets up, sits down next to him, and finally undoes his belt.
'My Queen-...' he articulates.
'Shh.' she cuts him off. 'Don't move.'
With quick fingers, she pushes Dusk's pants down to his knees. He holds his breath and looks down, seeing a wet stain in hi undergarments. Horizon smiles contently and crosses her arms, looking down on her Consort, still sprawled out on her bed and nearly naked, fighting his arousal to obey her.
'Don't move,' she repeats, her claw under his chin directing him to look at her.
To be continued on Day 17!
Chapter 3: Day 3: Knife Play (ALT Nisha & Myah... and Silverlight.)
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
The cold press of metal against Myah's throat has her tensing. She's on her back, helpless and vulnerable. A position she doesn't usually find herself in, yet the unfamiliarity thrills her.
Her friend and occasional lover Nisha is kneeling over her, looking down with a devilish smile.
“Have you fed recently?” she casually inquires, while dragging the edge of Myah's own dagger down her neck, leaving the tip resting on her collarbone.
A jolt of adrenaline hits Myah. She knows very well what this question entails. Her healing factor, directly proportionate to the time since her last ingestion of human blood, the blade playfully tracing the contours of her chest.
Throwing caution to the winds, Myah nods wordlessly, seeing Nisha's smile gain a more devious flavor.
“Good.” she whispers and shifts the dagger, spinning it in her hand. She drags the flat side down Myah's shirt, cutting off its buttons with ease.
She pushes the open shirt out of her way, never touching her skin to skin, always finding a way to incorporate that dagger into their contact.
With otherworldly grace, Nisha places the dagger against Myah's sternum, between her breasts, pushing the tip into her skin by just pressing against the hilt with her index finger.
Her eyes meet Myah's, the smile never fading as crimson blood paints the cold metal.
Just a little more force, just a single impact to push the blade deeper, down to her heart. Death would be swift. Any move Myah could make now would incline her upward, into the blade.
So she lies pinned, trying not to breathe too hard as Nisha toys with her very life.
Myah feels like her heart kisses the blade with every frantic beat.
“Don't move.” Nisha whispers. “You might hurt yourself, dear.”
Her free hand moves unexpectedly; she dips her fingers into Myah's blood, slowly pouring from the wound she keeps open.
Still maintaining eye contact, she brings her bloody fingers to her lips, sucking the liquid off each of them, slowly, one by one, making sure Myah sees her fangs glinting at her in the golden light of her chambers.
“Hmm..” she hums, angling her head at her. “Would you like me to taste more of you?”
Myah's “Yes” is but a hoarse whisper, the exhilarating mixture of fear and arousal making her throat feel tight and dry,
The soft chiffon Nisha's adorning herself with rustles when she moves, plucking the dagger from the small incision on Myah's chest. She takes a moment to watch the wound close up, her inquisitive glare reassuring Myah that she is, indeed, perfectly safe. Nisha makes sure that she actually heals.
The small break of illusion is quickly fixed when Nisha settles on Myah's body, her own pressing against it, and digs the blade into her cheek. A shallow, but long cut, and Nisha takes her time to drag her tongue along the wound, just as it heals.
She then moves again, locking Myah into a brief kiss, just long enough for her to taste her own blood on Nisha's tongue.
Myah struggles when she pulls away, her tongue sticking out as she arcs. The dagger against her throat forces her back down.
“What is this? You want more?” Nisha teases, letting Myah's pleading gaze linger for a moment.
Then, she carefully slices along she side of Myah's neck. Her body reacts with more adrenaline, a possibly deadly wound. The sting of pain feels more intense, as well as the tingle in her skin as it knits itself back together.
Nisha raises the blade before Myah's eyes, now caked in blood.
“Oh!” Myah breathes when she realizes what Nisha plans; the blade closes in until the tip rests on her lower lip.
“Well? I am giving you what you wanted, am I not?” Nisha urges and Myah obediently opens her mouth a little, pressing her tongue against the blade when Nisha slowly pushes it in.
The edge leaves a cut on her tongue, filling her mouth with more blood in the brief timeframe before her healing factor kicks in.
Nisha pulls the blade back and smiles contently at her willing prey, spinning the blade in her hands again.
A sudden knock at the door breaks the moment.
“Lady? Uh-... Oh. Oh no. No. No.” Silverlight had knocked and immediately entered before awaiting an answer. Now he stands there, halfway into the room, staring at the scene in terror.
Nisha gets up from Myah's lap and sets the dagger onto her nightstand. It still drips blood and saliva, but she doesn't seem to care about her furniture.
“How can I be of service?” she asks him nonchalantly, completely disregarding the fact that he just walked in on them.
He points at Myah wordlessly, who sits up, bare-chested and covered in blood.
“What?” she barks at him, and he slowly shakes his head.
“I will... come back later.” he announces and begins backing out of the room. “No. You come see me when you are done here. Just... take your time.”
The door slams shut behind him, and Nisha allows herself a courtly giggle.
“Oh my dear Myah, I believe your friend was worried for you safety.” she says and Myah shrugs.
“He should have waited for you to permit him in. It's his own fault.” she responds, and starts collecting the buttons Nisha cut off her shirt. “Do you have needle and thread handy?”
may be continued in a later prompt, once myah finished sewing her buttons back on.