OOM: All Skate Skellig Dream Magic Weirdness?

[brave_kreyu]

(OOC: Warning for explicit adult content, mention of noncon/rape, slavery)

Is it a dream? A glimpse of a universe that might have been? A story untold?

Something called Skellig out here, to a road scratched in the earth between the desert and the land irrigated by the river. The sun overhead is like a hammer, the heat murderous. His coat...he can't remember WHAT happened to his coat. In this heat the coat would be as strange as his wings to human eyes in any case.

There are two small mud-brick houses up ahead, then more road, and a mud-brick wall encircling a small village of mud-brick houses.

He needs a drink, desperately.

He hears footsteps coming toward him, the heat haze breaks to reveal a woman. (Except she can't be a woman, no one human has that much Light inside them, that much power.)

"Even one touched by the gods should not be walking about this time of day," her voice is all concern, all worry. She's wearing a white linen kilt around her waist, and nothing at all above it except a necklace of blue clay beads. She's lovely. (And she feels familiar? Why?)

She offers a hand to him, seemingly not concerned in the slightest about his wings.

Comments

[27_53]

Skellig groans softly against her skin as her body trembles and tightens around him, the waves of raw pleasure and joy that she allows to slip from her grasp on her emotions are strong enough that they easily 'recharge' his internal reserves that were depleted by the earlier fight with the bandits.

It takes him a fair bit of self-control to refrain from pushing her further off the edge of her release, but he manages to refrain, somewhat. He can't help himself from continuing to work his fingers inside her, his pace slowing - not wanting to overstimulate her - but still gently coaxing her as she comes down from her climax.

He allows his lips to press lightly to her throat, before he leans back and tries to catch her gaze with his eyes.

[brave_kreyu]

It takes a minute for her gaze to focus on him again. She giggles, high on endorphins. "If it feels like that for a man, it's no wonder young men want to stick their cock in everything. Thank you, for that."

And she really should have noticed Skellig's reaction to her earlier, but she was QUITE distracted. "Oh. I, what should I do for you?" she asks.

[27_53]

Skellig cannot help but laugh under his breath at her innocence, given the 'situation'.

"You are welcome - and yes, it is quite pleasurable," he agrees, before he contemplates just how to best explain what he'd like her to do for him. He suspects that once she starts touching him, he will lose his ability to speak clear sentences as the ache grows in the pit of his belly. "Here...I will show you."

Reaching for her hand, he wraps his fingers around hers and then brings them up under his kilt, pushing the fabric aside before he places her hand to rest against his inner thigh. "It would please me to be touched, by you..."

And the most straightforward way to explain just how, is to demonstrate. With his hand, he lightly strokes his fingers over his cock, a shiver running down his spine as he touches himself. He wants his hand to be replaced with hers, but that will happen momentarily - after a brief moment of 'demonstration' of what he likes best, he reaches for her hand on his thigh, bringing their hands together to stroke over his length.

[brave_kreyu]

"You are bigger than I would have thought," she tells him as he moves the kilt aside. She can see how it would hurt a woman to lay with a man the first time, with that inside of her. Skellig's given her so much pleasure already that whatever pain she has when he takes her will be more than worth it, so she's not worried.

Her whole being is intent on what he's doing as he demonstrates, her hand resting on his thigh. She strokes over his length, guided by his hand. She's grinning already, pleased at the idea of pleasing him. "I like how you feel, under my hand," she tells him. "That you're like this because of ME."

[27_53]

"This is entirely your doing," he says happily, squirming a bit under her touch as he relinquishes 'control' for a moment, moving his hand to rest on his thigh and give her freedom to do as she would wish with him. "You have...a fantastic touch."

Even though he is the far more experienced partner in this situation, there are still some things a novice can do that will drive the other wild.

"Clearly those fools have other issues that cause their weaknesses."

Impotence is not an issue, for one who chooses to lay with a 'witch' like Kreyu. Quite the opposite. But Skellig is content to let them harbor their beliefs - more for him to enjoy on his own.

[brave_kreyu]

She's visibly pleased, flushing, when he says she has a fantastic touch. She tries to recreate the strokes he demonstrated as best she can. slowly at first.

"Intimidated, perhaps, or too much drink." She grins wickedly. "That's what the midwife told me, at least, that both of those can make a man unable to rise."

[27_53]

"Those are definite factors which can tend to limit one's performance."

Full sentences are tougher, with her hand moving along his length, the friction nearly maddening. He has to pull his mind back into focus, allow his heartrate to settle a bit.

(At one point, he spits into his hand and reintroduces some lubrication into the equation. He would not be so forward as to coax her to put her mouth on him, not this soon in their 'lesson plan'. She is doing plenty well with just her fingers matching his.)

"Attraction is another factor..." he swallows hard as she brushes her fingertips over the head of his cock. "I...I had to resist quite firmly, the urge to take you earlier, when we first kissed."

Before they were so rudely interrupted by the roving band of fighters.

[brave_kreyu]

"That soon?" she's intrigued by that. "I wanted you then too. I wouldn't have dared to ask you to even touch me though, not then."

She remembers how Skellig's fingers moved so easily inside of her. While she strokes him with one hand, she reaches between her legs with the other. Yes, still some slickness there, that should help!

She rubs some of her arousal on his cock giving some more lubrication and perhaps some OTHER benefits. There is POWER in all of a dragon's body after all, even if blood is the most potent.

[27_53]

That elicits an unexpected, visceral reaction as she rubs him, his breath catches hard in his lungs. The wave of dragon power is strong as it washes over him, a feeling of compression on his ribs causing his heart to stutter-step a beat in his chest.

"Gods--"

He's not in any pain - so she shouldn't worry about that. The furthest thing from it, actually. His words leave him completely, so he settles for kissing her instead.

Forcefully.

[brave_kreyu]

Kreyu wasn't expecting a reaction THAT intense, but she enjoys the outcome very much!

His forceful kiss sends a shiver down her spine, stirs the heat at the base of her spine to a more vigorous flame. She tries to match his kiss while continuing to stroke him, but this is trickier than it seemed in her head. Her strokes are likely to slow a bit, become less coordinated.

[27_53]

After the initial 'surge' washes off of his energy, he breaks the kiss and inhales a soft, shaking breath as he works to align his focus back to the present, to her hand on his arousal and the fire burning in the pit of his belly.

A voice echoes in his headspace 'settle down, featherduster' and he laughs to himself, feeling a bit foolish at having such a strong reaction.

"Forget the gods..." he mutters, voice breaking with a bit of a pleasured groan as he covers her hand with his, 'helping' her to resume the rhythm she had set earlier. He is falling apart in pieces, and he knows he will not last much longer. "...much prefer to be touched by the dragon."

[brave_kreyu]

"I'm glad to hear that," she purrs. Her focus is intense, all of her concentration on him like a predator watching her prey.

"Will touch you as much as you want, whenever you want," she tells him, voice rough. "Want to give you what you gave me, Skellig."

[27_53]

He can feel her focus, and while typically he would feel threatened or fearful with that much attention being paid to him (he does not handle feeling as if he is prey easily, having had too much experience with it) he does not in this case, as there is an underlying current of something greater (safety) that settles his nerves.

"A lucky soul, I am." He whispers. "However I found myself in this oasis."

It is not long before he feels himself slipping entirely, and he presses his lips to hers once more, this kiss less intense, but still very deep. (There is a connection, somewhere, that he feels pull from a thread but he still can't understand why it feels that way.) "Kreyu, my dragon."

With his hand over hers, he guides her touch, thrusting his hips involuntarily as he reaches his peak, the knot in his stomach tightening firmly before he relaxes and finds his release, spilling his climax over their hands with a soft whimper of pleasure escaping his throat.

[brave_kreyu]

"As lucky as I am that you found me," she whispers back as she strokes him. It feels true, in ways she can't explain.

"My Skellig," she breathes against his lips as they part from the kiss. They are connected, she is sure of that, even if she doesn't understand how.

She keeps stroking as he comes, remembering what he did for her. She looks, well, she looks SMUG if we're being honest. And vastly pleased with herself.

[27_53]

Skellig is a very vocal advocate for taking advantage of pleasure when the opportunity presents itself, and this is one of those moments. She is absolutely allowed to look (and feel!) smug, in this instance.

He presses his lips to her forehead, settling comfortably back in the chair. Her heartbeat runs through him, via his feet resting on the dirt floor below them, her hand and fingers intertwined with his (once he is finished, he moves them to rest against his thigh), her chest pressed against his own.

Once he can think clearly enough to breathe and attempt to form a thought, he exhales.

"Pretty sure that was more than what I gave you," he admits. "But I will make it up to you, in a bit."

[brave_kreyu]

"I look forward to it," she replies.

Now that they are recovering, her hand runs gently over skin that has suffered under the sun. "You look like I feel after I've spent too long arguing with my brother while he soaks in molten lava and sulks."

"I have something that will help your skin, if I rub it on you. Would you let me do that?"

[27_53]

"I would probably benefit from it," he admits, nodding. "I am...not used to such intense exposure."

Night creatures do not typically spend hours wandering the desert to the point of becoming char-broiled. He shifts beneath her, adjusting his stance, while keeping his arms wrapped loosely around her body which still straddles his.

"And I would suggest...your bed, perhaps? While this is a fine chair...we might be better served to lounge."

[brave_kreyu]

"Yes, especially if I am going to put my remedy on all of your burns."

She kisses him gently on the forehead. "My poor owl, the sun is even crueler to you than it is to the rest of us in the Dry season."

She gently removes herself from his lap, kilt settling back down over her legs. "I think you will have no trouble finding your way to my bed," she teases. It IS a single room with only one bed.

[27_53]

Allowing himself a moment to readjust his balance (and kilt) once she climbs off of his lap, he glances over to the bed, then looks at her.

"Finding it is not a problem," he 'assures' her, teasing right back. He stands, stretching (a glorious stretch that feels good in so many places through his body) his arms out above his head. "But I am no beast that would simply assume I was allowed."

But since she has seemingly already given him 'permission'...he moves to it, and flops down casually as gracefully as a sunburnt, winged creature such as himself can manage to do so.

[brave_kreyu]

She watches him stretch, admiring the view. The bed isn't anything like a modern mattress, but the ropes hold up well enough to support his weight and the 'mattress' is still well stuffed.

"I should be with you shortly, unless I've forgotten where I put it."

She hasn't, but it is at the bottom of a very deep chest, and she has to really BEND down to reach it. She has a very fine ass, does his dragon.

She stands back up with two pottery jars and struts over to her bed triumphantly. "Thought I'd packed some safely away. What parts of your skin are most uncomfortable?" she asks as she opens one of the jars.

[27_53]

There are a variety of thoughts that filter through his mind as he watches her rifle through the chest - and none of them are pure. That train of thought continues as she strides back to the bed, and though his eyes can see that she is speaking...

...he is not listening. At all.

It is the scent of whatever is contained in one of those jars hitting his nostrils is what snaps him back into the 'present', and he looks up from her body to her face, meeting her eyes, his own dark with want.

And muddled with a little confusion.

"...what was that?"

[brave_kreyu]

Kreyu chuckles softly. "I did not think I was THAT distracting," she tells him.

"Where does your skin hurt the worst, Skellig," she asks, gentle. "I would like to prevent you from hurting, from the sun."

"And you will need time to recover before you have me, I think?" Her tone becomes slightly uncertain toward the end, unsure about how much of what little she 'knows' is actually accurate.

[27_53]

Skellig works his throat, trying to remember how to speak - then points at his chest, the tops of his shoulders, where the burn from the sun's rays is evidently the worst.

"You...are a vision, Kreyu." He reaches for her hand, moving his body to one side of the mattress so that she can sit alongside him. "If I did not know better by this point, I would say you were merely a mirage, brought on by the sun, an image painted by my brain to bring me great pleasure in my final moments."

Which, technically...this could all be a hallucination in his death throes, but he highly doubts it.

"And...yes, I will need to recover, but...you...you are quite inspiring, to the body and mind."

[brave_kreyu]

She sits next to him on the bed, flushed at his praise. "You flatter me, but I find I quite like flattery coming from you."

She starts applying the balm to the top of his shoulders. "And my being.. inspiring would explain a few things."

"The first time I took this shape of my soul, I was in a forest. I could hear the sound of men on horses and a great many hounds hunting, and I was curious. I knew they would fear me in dragon shape, so I reached within myself for something softer, gentler." She manifests her wings again, careful not to bump him with them.

She laughs softly as she continues to apply the balm to his chest. "I was not used to these legs, these wings, so I stumbled out of the brush in front of them like a fawn learning how to walk, quite naked. There was a large branch overhanging the deer trail there, low for a man on horseback. The man who led the hunt...did not duck the branch. He was knocked off of his horse and into the pond."

Kreyu coughs. "When I asked my brother how he had missed seeing such a thing, he would not stop laughing."

[27_53]

Skellig also laughs.

"I would not blame him! If I had seen such a sight while aloft, I likely would have flown straight-on and smacked right into a tree as well. And not because of your wings!"

They would have had something to do with it, sure. But not entirely.

"A beautiful naked woman falling from the brush, into their path in the midst of a forest hunt? They would have likely thought it was the work of the Fae, or others."