Legends of Belariath
Devia
Clam Filled Sea
I'd regale you of a tale of love, but honestly, you can't handle the love!
So, you get this.
It was winter, at least in her heart. Along the coastal shores played a warm breeze, yet to her skin, it was a chilling touch that carried with it the moisture of the crashing waves. To her, it was enough penetrate even the thickest animal furs, and yet, Coldilocks that found herself there, amongst the cascading white sands, shivering. The firmed tips of her nipples like diamonds, etching the stories of her most intimate desires against the interior of her the thinly veiling fabric.
Coldilocks was a short in all ways, including temperament. With a stature that would barely accommodate five steps of the King, the tips of royal toes undoubtedly spilling over the edge of her carefully bound hair. Despite this, she was every bit the picture of beauty; and yet, through her own devices, had captured her eternal life from the prying nature of others, till her eyes turned as steely as her responses, much like a cold penetrating chill.
She had dark hair, though, at times she wished the fallen snow would stain it a purer shade, as it, in some angles of light took upon itself a blue and purple hues of the endless waters at night. Mostly though, it was black, a dark, and midnight shade that framed itself atop her otherwise pale skin. All of course, mattered very little to her, as hugged her arms over the soft, pliable flesh, the smooth, heated skin that shivered for no other reason but a wish to be cold beneath a curtain of mundane fabrics.
For Coldilocks, in all her beauty, was prepared to throw herself into the merciless torrent of churning waves, to end her eternal existence against the jagged rocks and with it snuff what was the linger flickering of a flame; more a torment, then a of life. It was this sadness, this overwhelming empty feeling of being truly alone and yet, un-wanting of the affections of another of whom would never understand her inner most torments.
It was then she raced, fleet a foot, toes leaving individual craters of which particles of sand filtered down into, across slender legs which drove upward to the apex of her thighs. To that darkened space, that, for all purposes of desire, would seem covered in the longest and most twisted cobwebs of misuse. To the edge, to the very edge of the tallest rock that pierced the shore, prepared to meet the end of her existence, alone, cold and shivering as she leapt.
She leapt.
It was the air she felt, as it rushed across her nakedness, the curve of her swelling breasts, the dented inward swerve of the passionless depths never to be touched again. Her eyes wide, wanting to see it, to see the last caress of agony, of pain that would sweep her from the world. It was then, just as she could smell the sharp edge of a stone, it all stopped
"This must be death.."
"What a strange thing to for such a delicious little morsel of a girl to say" It was then then, only then that Coldilocks realized that she was suspended just above the rocks, held by the very clothing that seemed to all but disappear in her rush to end that existence. She abruptly struggled, throwing herself at that pointed spire, her flailing and twisting endless in their pursuit for her own death.
"Free me! Free me to my death!" Her voice, once contained, relegated to the inner turmoil of her thoughts now spilled freely, slathering itself across wet sheen of the rocks below as her arms batted in futile manner at the one, strong limb that held secure to her bodice, the bound her to the life of which she hated. Yet, nothing came, no freedom was offered, she remained so suspended, hovering over the gleam of dagger points that yearned only for her heart. It was when she looked, that she twisted to view the one of whom dared prolong her miserable agony.
It was a goddess, a woman of a Amazon stature, she was at the very least, six feet in height, though, from Coldilocks position, it seemed as if the woman rose forever, ascending into the clouds as towering figure. Her hair was as pure as whitest snow, of everything she dreamed her own to be, and yet, within it was shots of crimson, as if those of whom immediately fell deeply rapt with her, were so represented as crimson strands that threatened to overtake what was pure. "To your death?" A wry smile etched upon the lush lips of this woman, who held her weight as if it were the most meager thing conceivable.
Coldilocks felt dizzy, as if every reason for own demise had suddenly become foolish and small, as insignificant as she felt in the shadow of the large, perfect breasts that loomed above. That expanded and sank in slow motion against leather of which she, inside of herself wished upon all wishes would have stayed upon the animal that it was cut from. "Who..?" As sensical as her thoughts would provide, that single word searching out seeking the mated answer as fire, as heat rushed across her skin for felt to be the first time in all of her memory.
"No girl, I do believe you wanted your death" Was the cruel, heartless words that were offered in return, that ripped and tore at heart that was only learning to beat for the first time. She felt herself rising, and suddenly, everything, every mistake, every regret, every painful memory that was her life flashed before eyes that wished only to look upward at the shining sun as the rocks came dangerously, so dangerously close, ready to receive her from the world.
"No please! Oh Goddess Please!" Her begging voice brought it to an abrupt stop, as the length of her raven locks brushed the cool stone, and tears, real tears of emotion, of the need and desire for life threatened to drown the sea below. "Please! Please tell me your name!" Her mouth was moving, and she heard the sounds of her voice, but, it was not her speaking these things, but her directly from that burred place, from that once icy reach that kept goose bumps over her skin.
"It is plain to me, girl" That voice, that sex melting voice that soaked through her skin, to take hold of her bones themselves "That you have already given up your life" As the comparatively frame frame was lofted skyward, until Coldilocks found herself leveled with the eyes that bore holes of desire into soul, as that sweet, delicious smelling breath waves across her gaping mouth, that threatened to so much as drool in the presence of her "A life, that is, in my estimation, now mine to decide"
While Coldilocks had been in something of a dreamland, that honeyed exhale had spoken with all the coldness of the highest suffocating reaches of the tallest mountain. "W-what are you saying?" It was a question that every point of her being but her twisting tongue knew the answer, it was a statement of which dulled every sense to the point where she could could only feel stilling of her beating heart, that once thunderous thing now, taken fully aback.
"What I am saying?" Her incline, the beautiful twist of her stunning beauty that kept the girl frozen against the shimmering light, the pale reflection of illumination that poured across the pallid hued skin. "Is that you will never speak again unless you are placed with the luxury of such, that this.." It was then, the moment of which she thought she was naked, and falling became at least partially true. With a sweep of a hand, the entire garment fell to the wind under the cruel and horrible tearing sound she had ever heard.
Without clothing, bared before the Goddess of whom simply seemed to allow her to fall once more, to plummet toward the rocks for what felt an eternity of increasing agony and loneliness, true sensation that sent her fingers, her arms sprawling, reaching, daringly so to hug herself to that form, that person of whom she had never known until this moment, and wanted so desperately to "Please!" Her voice stretched out, seeking the heavens of which the towering figure stood.
Down, downward and further the soft, smooth and strongly slender fingers curled around the naked breast of skin that had never been so touched by light, and hauled her by it, into a tight and constricting grasp that could only be compared to the slow sinching choke of mythic snakes.
Then she spoke, in a manner of which both sent the all the frozen winds across her back, and at the same time, light a flame that molten lava would flee from "It may frighten you to learn, that you are nothing but what I decide, that what ever you feel from this point on is of little consiquence, for you do not exist in this world for yourself. You are nothing, but because this nothing is mine, you are everything. Understand this or not, you will come to in time, as just a keyless lock secures a treasure for all time, you are secured to me"
Found, dumbfounded. Coldilocks could only exist in those arms. The beat of her own heart was silenced to the sound, the thunderous sound of that perfect, outward curving breasts of which her features were now crushed too. Her mind was the last place to cry out, before only silence prevailed, as lips, as perfect lips devoured her own, as powerful tongue twisted her own in ways of which she fully believed could pry it clean from the gaping maw of which sported.
It wasn't long before Coldilocks did indeed learn a name of which to call this person of whom had cradeled her beneath her imposing wing. A name of which, she would safe often, when she was permitted to speak. This name, as many might already assume was Mistress.