by mozenwrathe on Tue Apr 10, 2012 11:56 am
*A pin prick. There is something about one of those that brings sweet sorrow to the mouths of the masochist. Conversely, one of those has been known to bring a loud shriek to a sleeping troll. For anyone that has never heard the difference, think of it as far apart as having water thrown in your face in a cup versus being hurled into a raging river. One is far easier to handle than the other. Oh yes, for those used to courtly intrigue, a sharp pain like that could be the sign that your leg has gone numb in a session of speeches. And then for those whom are slavers, it could mean the sign one of your competitors has decided to poison you. Never a good thing, that...*
This Item Does Not Contain Anything Dangerous
by Ruidyynäh, dancer and entertainer and lover of both Ariaz Refinnej and Shéyriöa
some things are worth the hurt they give
in order to receive the bliss afterwards
yet could I not convince those whom owned me
to let me get the one thing I had wanted
even as they knew I would sell for a little more
with such things done to me tastefully
was I to be hawked unmarred in that way
to he who would become my Possessor
this is a time have I withheld from both
she who found me withdrawn and abandoned
and the woman who chance encounters alone
brought her beauty and promise into my life
for would they even now seek out the man
and those who gave him his power over me
wishing to give him far greater pains and aches
than what he ever chose to cause my gentle flesh
did I know my Possessor's length and girth
within moments of my becoming his next toy
choosing to demonstrate his prowess great
plummeting deep into my behind with fury
causing me to shriek in anguish at first lunge
his laughter reverberating within my chest
left hand of us always in strange gauntlet
pulling back on my hair with cruel viciousness
his wolven fangs pressing into my shoulder
as their pierced my skin one by one slowly
marking me as his while the pain itself
soared through my spirit like bird of flames
causing me to whimper and grow wet for him
understanding nothing of why I felt so broken
did I keen and wail while others laughed
their cheering for the male flushed my skin
so many voices demanding to use me next
but did his tongue lick upon my shoulder
healing me as it seared my senses more
making me almost addicted in one serving
to him and his ever changing desires
breathing out slowly that if any dared
to ungraciously try to touch what is his
could his claws easily rend their flesh apart
and their remains would be to feed his hound
his bite would become something more than
a small anguish that would be gateway to pleasure
but his way of acknowledging me and the others
for was I one of perhaps four or five owned
and upon us all did he prey with power and passion
until the day was he slain in combat betrayed
and were we all scattered by the storms of war
know I nothing of what happened to the others
only that even now teeth to my shoulder excite me
and strong fingers holding my waist to another
cause me to whimper and writhe in anticipation
was I trained perhaps too well by my Possessor
for if he lived again would I welcome him
and whisper to whatever goddess would listen
to allow him to accept and desire those I care for
current characters:
Prydain Mozenwrathe (Magi, smith, known to the Might Makes Right) ,
Ichilandar Shimmerstrike (dark elf, ranger, merchant) ,
Dasan (Sheykan, druid, real estate specialist)