PAPERCUT
Above her the stars masqueraded, dancing in their celestial dance. Perhaps if she were a poet Medusa would sing praises of their beauty, but she was no such thing. No, she was simply a woman who could admire beauty, although she could find beauty in most everything. She found scars on a warrior beautiful, she found bland colors beautiful, she found the dull and broken beautiful, but that was all they were to her. She could not profess adjectives such as stunning and breath-taking, for there was nothing in her life deserving of such titles. She found many things beautiful, but that did not mean they were unique to her.
Tonight she found herself an insomniac, too consumed by her own thoughts to even begin having the capability to sleep. Rest was not something she mourned over, however. No, the serpent was alright with a few sleepless nights. Her dreams were confusing, anyways; in them she saw glimpses of herself, glimpses of memories that she did not think were hers but had to be due to her presence. Perhaps they were the locked away memories of her youth, the void of time that was so foreign to her. In them she could see many things, and perhaps the most vivid ones involved the way she?d been torn from her mother and the way she?d been raised in her harem.
Shaking her head, the serpent refocused on the stars. They were growing boring, and soon she would need to seek other entertainment, but for now she was content to note their beauty.
the finnvi boy had been cast away, one could say. forced to leave as harsh whispers traveled fast: of the son of a whore who dipped his own stick into her soup. sifjaslit at its worst, they said. granted, it was true. jaeger had plowed into his own mother numerous times and not once had he regretted tasting the forbidden fruit. but the whispers circulating were beginning to drag down his reputation. he couldn't overtake his uncle if they all looked upon him as if he were homegrown scum. so he had left. regrettably so, as his beloved brother seemed to be willing enough to prove himself useful. but that was then. and this is now. now he was trapped between insomnia and an ever growing tightness in his groin. soon he would have to find pleasure, entertainment at least. the fallen valkyrie found himself slipping less than gracefully on slicked glaciers, cursing beneath his breath in the ancient language. legs as long as stilts looked awkward bound to his bony frame, a dull silver brimmed with coal along the spine. inverted spectacles schooled over a shadowed figure but a statute away, tantalizingly feminine. "entweder ich m?chte heimskr, oder sie ben?tigen eine magd nau?r." the words unveiled from his split cavity, softly mouthed and withdrawn so as if to protect her from some unforeseen force of destruction.
He came upon her suddenly, and yet she did not startle like any sane woman might. Perhaps that was the first clue to any strangers of her oddness, of her upbringing. Medusa was a harlot with few morals; the very word was enough to bring a short string of laughter to her lips. A snake did not care about much in so far as what was right and what was wrong. Rather, Medusa cared only for what was fun. She could feign interest in morality for Jupiter, but beyond that she was bound only by her own interests.
This male was handsome in a somewhat exotic way, and the words he spoke were foreign to others, but not to Medusa?s ears. She spoke German rather well, having been trained and well-versed in a number of languages from her induction into the harem that had raised her. It was important, after all, that she be able to speak to those of all backgrounds and pull them in. His words, however, were enough to induce laughter in the harlot. ?Und welche Art von Not m?chten Sie liefern?? (and what sort of distress do you wish to provide?) she asked him, tilting her head as if she were peering into his soul, like she were trying to dissect him by sight alone.
?Ich sollte Sie warnen, dass ich keine Jungfrau bin. Ich bin die Art von Frau, die nicht findet viele Situationen distressful, obwohl ich so tun k?nnen, wenn Sie m?gen,? (I should warn you that I'm no damsel. I'm the sort of woman who does not find many situations distressful, although I can pretend if you like) she told him, words dripping from her mouth in temptation. What would he want from her? The Madame had many things she could give, although it all depended.
monochrome orifice split into almost pure relishment in reaction his consort's lack of surprise as towering masts brought closure to the distance between them. to see such a beautiful young thing hold all control over herself.. it was tauntingly tempting to break. the bitterness of germanic tones played upon his ear, sweetened by a teasing undertone given by the woman. so this one was willing? what a prize indeed. he wouldn't have to force her hand in his little game. ghastly maw lingered near the small of her stomach as his lithe vessel drew slowly by hers, his breath catching as a plaguing warmth started within his groin. the cimmerian baron swallowed his bone, ignoring the heightened animalistic need. "nau?r ist ein vages wort." he breathed harshly, shallowly. "ich m?chte innerhalb sie sein." his enticed facade exploded into that of a madman, an unnatural spark flashed in his incandescent spectacles as his craving to bathe with her still-beating heart brought a sliver of drool from faintly gaping jaws. he just couldn't help himself.
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ooc; if anything is needed to be changed (i wasn't sure if him coming so close would be a problem or not?), pm me and i'll get an email notifying me and i'll hop to it ;3
He seemed to be a demon of some sort, desiring her body in a way that she was comfortable giving. However, part of her was almost alarmed. His head rested near her stomach, and part of her wondered if he wished to rip into her and eat her alive. Perhaps if she wasn?t so important now she might have let him; it would be a suitable way to go. Torn apart by the ecstasy of another, locked in a passionate embrace of a temporary lover who would find her forgettable in a while. And yet she did not let herself fantasize; with Jupiter and Amenti both binding her to life, she could not be quite so reckless.
He spoke in rough German, a language she always found commanding, and she wondered if he might wish to command her. ? Welche not wollen sie bewirken?? (what distress do you wish to cause?) she asked him, hoping to pivot her hips so that he would sit directly behind her. Her head turned to her left, eyes peering at him, hooded with sultry lids and a seductive glint. She was beckoning him, take what you want. He was so bold to profess his desires, but she never minded those who were bold. She could be equally bold given the situation. ?Tun, was sie wollen, liebe, ich bitte sie nur, lassen sie mich in der lage, mich zu verteidigen,? (do what you wish, love, I only ask you leave me able to defend myself) she hissed. He could make her bleed, he could make her hurt, but she would not let him break her. Bruises and bite marks were one thing, organs and bones another.
such a bold queen. such a temptress. such an honor to be the one to bring her to her knees. a wicked display of relishment crept over the simply ecstatic visage of the finnvi legend. had njord really thought he deserved all of this? such a treat for being such a bad boy, it was hardly believable. but who was he to question the gods? her sweet tones chimed and caressed his eardrums, playing a teasing song and urging him further. "lassen sie ihre angste auf mich zu, fr?ulein. sie m?ssen nichts tun, sondern kooperieren." he slipped a u-turn and brushed a damp maw across her cheek before rearing his neck like a viper to stare the woman in her mercury eyes. "jetzt habe ich ihnen eine gute kleine hure sein wollen, zu verstehen?"
his facade cracked into a dark twist of mischief. he was nearly nothing but a skeleton with a coat draped over, his ribs protruding at a startling rate. his movements as he brushed past his new toy resembled an abhorrent serpent, careless and time consuming. cold leathered button found the tufts on her thigh, creeping toward the treasure she so avidly gave away. his breathing was feverish, but he wouldn't touch her. instead, he raised his crown of thorns enough to bring his incisors down on the base of her tail. "umkippen."
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ooc; if at any point you get uncomfortable, just tell me ;3 i don't plan on him actually doing anything. also, if him biting her is not okay, pm me and i'll change it to a hard nudge <3
He was a demanding sort of man, not that she minded at all. Oh, she would let him do what he wished for now, finding none of it revolting. She wondered what sort of distress he wished to invoke, what sort of pleasure he wanted from her. As she came face to face with him, leaning into his touch when he pressed his snout against him, she stared into his bi-colored eyes, nodding. ?As you wish,? she purred in English, preparing to take whatever orders he would give to her. Maybe she shouldn?t have been doing this; she was an alpha, a ruler. She didn?t want to give off the impression that she could be so easily commanded.
He brushed against her, each touch earning a the man a soft purr of appreciation. It was nice, even the sharp bit of pain as he bit down upon her tail. She let out a yelp of surprise, but she truthfully did not mind. A demand was uttered, and Medusa found herself obeying, laying down on the ground and rolling up so that her underbelly was exposed. Her chin tucked, protecting the vulnerable flesh of her throat. Perhaps, before she met Jupiter, she would have leaned her head all the way back and let this male have access to her throat. She wouldn?t have worried that he could rip out, but now that she had a pack to look after, she had to take such precautions. ?Was kommt als n?chstes?? (What next?) she asked him, gazing up at him curiously. What did he desire from her?
as the woman obeyed, the man's thin lips slit open in a toothy smirk. he knew then that this would not be a wasted experience. dainty paws stepped around her body, sculpted maw lingering close to her. he reached her protected neck, conscious of the blood flowing through her veins and the nearly synchronized pounding of their hearts. what a silly thought, that she would protect her neck but expose the soft flesh of her belly. a ragged, exasperated chuckle slipped through his teeth as he brushed a leathered button along the side of her neck before taking a position to hover over her.
salmon tongue lubricated drying lips, mind traveling fast down a perverse path. oh what he could do to this woman. so many things, but none jumping out at him screaming pick me. he allowed his mug to trail down the center of her belly, ever slowly. he stopped midway, breathing shallowly. "tell me.. wer bist du?" his voice came rougher than he intended, a sense of urgency he had not wanted to reveal. he lingered just long enough to breathe the words before his tongue snaked down the rest of the path, stopping just above the desirable location. he wanted to see her squirm. beg for him. and he would before the night was over.
He moved quickly, assuming a position that she could only describe as dominating. He stood over her, and for the moment that his nose touched her throat she stiffened, preparing herself to attack if necessary. Nonetheless, he didn?t bite in, didn?t try to make her bleed out, a thought that both relaxed and disappointed her. It would be most glorious to go out in a passionate way, to find her end in the grasp of a temporary lover, strangled by the grasp of orgasm and pleasure. And yet she knew she could not give in to such a thing yet, not when she was so needed by her dear Jupiter.
His snout moved along her belly, her back arching, body pressing into his touch as silent whimpers and moans parted from her lips. ?My name is Medusa,? she spoke, sounding as if speaking German was beyond possibility of the whore. She was fluent in the language, just as she was fluent in many others, but she hoped that it seemed like she knew when to drop it for effect. She was nothing if not dramatic, after all.
His tongue would trail down, touching more and more delicate skin as he went, making the harlot groan. He would stop right near her most sensitive area, making her look at him as if disappointed. She whined, a beg for him to give her the attention. ?B-bitte,? (please) she begged, although in all truth she could likely hold out with his teasing. If she was in a different mood, perhaps she would have let him tease her, would have resisted giving into provocation. But she was not in the mood now, and though she could have resisted, she decided to give in, and to sound like a needy, whiny whore.
he would love to gut her. to tear her open, to paint the trees and rocks with her blood. but there would be a time for that, he had to remind himself. right now he was on a mission to please the aesir and vanir. he could always come back and finish this woman off. after all, a whore is always a whore. controlled mug twitched as a smirk appeared across it, a slight remnant of a chuckle escaping as she seemed to lose capability of speaking his native tongue. he had to give her credit where credit was due, even he, a master of the art of dramatics, found himself believing her charade.
a tightness in his groin begged him to give in; to forget his vocation and ravage this woman, inside and out. but.. he groaned, a rough and agitated sound forcing itself from a dry throat. ashen masts folded underneath him, profoundly ribbed carcass pressing along the taut, supple woman beneath it. every bone in his body ached, pleaded, and he was sure she knew he was growing weak as he grew against her. tenuous stilts straddled her lovely, womanly hips as he breathed into her. "i need something out of you, meine kleine schlampe." he would not call her by her name. not yet, not until she earned it. "only then will you get your release." he dipped his maw toward her treasure, allowing his cheek hairs to mingle with those in her thigh. salivated, svelte tongue slipped teasingly over her sweet spot, only lingering long enough to make her want more. "verstanden?"
She loved these moments, loved being an actress, lived for the press of flesh against flesh and the shared body heat. She would not deny that she enjoyed this, but she was not a woman whose buttons were so easy to push. Nonetheless she enjoyed the encounter; every now and then it felt good to release control and do something stupid and reckless. Being belly-up to a complete stranger was risky, but not a position she hadn?t been in before. Submission was relaxing sometimes, in ways that the harlot didn?t care to analyze or understand.
The woman would groan loudly as he pressed his chest against her, pushing into his touch, as if she hoped she might be able to absorb him into her skin. It was then that he would speak up, voicing that he needed something from her. She was curious, a curious purr rumbling in her chest. ?What is your name?? she inquired, figuring it would only be fair, figuring that he might be the sort to get a kick out of a writhing whore screaming his name. Oh he knew how to leave her heated, and she would put on a show for him. She seemed as if he could play her strings like an instrument, a woman lost in passion and heat and desire, all because he could control her. It was a lovely lie, one she didn?t mind giving off so long as this man never came to know of her alpha status.
?Bitte, bitte, bitte,? (please, please, please) she pleaded. ?I will please you, just bitte, sagen sie mir, was zu tun ist,? (please, tell me what to do) she groaned. If he grew dangerous she knew how to fight, and if needed she was a rather fast runner.
he could get used to playing with his food like this. the thought had never occurred to him that his little endeavours could possibly be enjoyable when not stuttering and jerking convulsively. the way medusa's body formed against his, the way their breathing synchronized so that their skin never separated; it was delightfully tantalizing. the only woman who he'd made anything close to what was considered love to had been his mother, and that was under heavy influence of magic mushrooms. a voice beckoned his ears to, and it took a moment for him to realize it was the whore beneath him.
"unfortunately," he dipped his maw between her thighs again, basking in her sweet scent. "my name is irrelevant." his tone was blunt, uninterested. then a mischievous smirk began to creep over the man's moist lips. "just for our little game, though," he paused on a thoughtful tone, touching his cold leathered nose only briefly to her womanly button. he was like a child, slowly finding different ways to test out his new toy. "i'll allow you to call me daddy." he exhaled deeply against her, tempted to devour her endlessly and without halt. his groin twitched desperately in response to his ludicrous thoughts, and he was forced to push them aside.
slowly, in a manner meant to tease only himself, he trailed his chin from her soft stomach, up her delicate thigh, and back down again. his voice came out gruff, but with a nonchalant mask fitted over. "tell me," the man gingerly pinched the soft skin close to her womanly treasure between his drooling jaws. "dessen kopf ist das wertvollste in alacritis?" he leaned forward only slightly to bury his snout once again between her thighs, tasting in earnest her deliciously tangy womanhood, hoping to encourage her to give him a truthful answer.
He denied her his name and she didn?t mind it at all. If it pleased him she would let him deny her his name; there were only few names that mattered in the lands of Alacritis, after all. One?s name could be changed, but one?s appearance and personality could only ever be masked. She could not restrain her laugh when he told her to call him Daddy, wondering what sort of kinky man she?d found herself amongst. ?Sie sind wunderbar, Daddy? (You are wonderful) she crooned, wondering when the last time she?d had this much fun was. Most of her intimate encounters had proved rather vanilla, but now she was tucked beneath the control of this man in a way she did not mind. What was the harm in an act?
His trailing snout left a trail of fire in its wake, and she keened, almost begging him to stop and take her. In reality she was not nearly so lost in pleasure, although she did admit that she was starting to feel a tad bit frustrated. And yet she would endure, having been raised with a sense of patience when it came to these ordeals. His mouth found its way once more against her womanhood and she would groan, as if she couldn?t control herself. The sensation did fog her mind a bit, but not quite enough. This was a serious matter after all; what could she tell this man?
She would never fathom spilling forth Jupiter?s name, nor would she consider telling him of any of her allies in a traitorous way (she knew better than most how dirty little secrets came out, and she would rather not have some very large prides attacking her), and neither would she tell him about her own crown. Instead she would profess a crooked tooth lie. ?Newt, Newt Saxe,? she groaned. ?S-she?s a dire wolf, a-a woman who commands a legion of ass-assassins. S-she just lost her p-pack but, s-she?s strong,? she groaned, having arrived at a suitable solution. Part of her, however, was feeling dangerous. ?D-do you know how she fell?? she asked, as if ready to tell a story.
her laughter played delightful tunes on his eager ear, drawing a devilishly mischievous smirk across his moistened lips. he so liked to have fun, to play with other's boundaries and step into his own playground of the damned. incest was his trade, per say. while he had been an idle boy hellbent on enjoying every aspect of the word pleasure, the devious hel* took hold of him and drew him into a world of sexual satisfaction. he'd dipped his tools of destruction into the intoxicating pool and not only tasted the forbidden waters but entirely consumed them. as the woman crooned, her willingness to play along brought the less-than-knightly baron to draw his leathered button across her lower groin with a museful hum.
his mind was lost in his own foggy nest of ecstasy, ideas and thoughts raining down in abundance. for a few moments he was lost in her nectar, focused only on bringing his needed information to literally seep from her body. her smell was sweet with an underlying musky hint, clogging his nostrils and draining all coherent advantages from him. he'd never felt this before - the want and need to only please and bring this harlot to her peak. it was unlike him, as if freyja trapped him into finally bringing release to someone other than himself.
the groans of the woman brought the man out of his reverie, though. she spoke of a woman - a powerful woman with an army. but not just any army, assassins. a slight bout of anger rose inside the malicious baron, causing him to pull his snaking tongue back into its encampment within his jowls. whether this wench was telling the truth or not, it was certainly worth looking into. assassins were slithering maggots, stealing a good man's chance at reaching valhalla by taking his life while he wasn't looking. taking out their queen would most exquisitely please the aesir and vanir.
slender maw dipped down once again toward her treasure, but this time did not slip a taste. "can't say i do, but i do enjoy a good story." his next words fell pleasantly from his throat before he enclosed his jaws around the tender skin beside her womanhood, pulling with slight pressure.
* hel is the monstrous daughter of the trickster god loki and his wife. she rules over helheim (house of hel), which is basically the nordic version of hell