brave_kreyu | OOM: All Skate Skellig Dream Magic Weirdness?

OOM: All Skate Skellig Dream Magic Weirdness?

(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.

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"We are both so very lucky," she agrees.

Is he harder than he was just a bit ago? She's not sure. Clearly, some experimentation is required!

She grins wickedly at him, then takes as much of his cock in her mouth as she can. On the plus side, she can fit a lot more of him in her mouth at this stage of arousal.

That earns her another string of swear words - though his tone will make it obviously clear that these are not words of pain, but words of pleasure and delight - and his grip tightens slightly in her hair.

Encouragement, indeed.

"Let them...let them call me a demon..." he laughs. "I would gladly let you do all the wicked things to me that you'd desire."

She makes a 'hmmm' sound of inquiry with her mouth still around him. It is a sound that seems to ask 'And what wicked things would you like to do to me?'

Her hands wander his thighs while her tongue teases him in her mouth.

The vibration of her mouth on his cock sends shockwaves up his body, which spike hard into the center of his spine.

"I'd fly with you--"

His heels dig into the linens of the bed, as he tries to 'catch' himself from falling (even though he is not falling at all, his body feels as if it is carthweeling through the sky) through space.

"Lay claim to you, make certain that all of them--"

The hand that isn't in her hair grips the blanket beneath them for 'balance'.

"Make certain that they all know -- know I am yours."

Edited 2024-03-31 16:58 (UTC)

Her eyes are dark with want when she lets his cock slip out of her mouth. "How would you make sure they know that you're mine?" she asks, voice breathy.

She aches with want, with arousal. Just a little satisfaction, that's all, to take the edge off. She straddles his leg, letting her body sink down onto him enough to give her a little friction where she needs it between her legs.

She kisses his thigh, teases his cock with her hands.

"I would have them hear my voice in the dark, crying your name in ecstasy." For starters. "Not bother with wards to conceal my pleasure with your actions...my calls of bliss, as you would ravish me."

Putting her in control is another experiment, and he pushes it a bit - shifting his jaw as she sinks her body down against his leg. A smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth, eyebrows raising slightly as he shifts his leg subtly beneath her. Pressing closer, increasing contact (and friction) between them, adding subtle muscle movements which match in time with the way she's teasing him with her hands, the way she's building his arousal with her fingertips, cock hardening under her touches.

"I would make certain they know just exactly who they'd have to go through, if they wanted to have their way with me."

His grin widens, briefly showing a wicked flash of teeth. (Maybe there is a hint of a demon in him after all? Or at the very least, a primal beast who desires his mate's attentions.)

"I am no exhibitionist...but I would let them see you kiss me."

And he highly doubts Kreyu would take kindly to someone trying to have their way with him - part of her 'treasure'.

She shivers as he speaks, heart thundering at his words, at the images they paint, eyes darkening with WANT.

A moan tears from her as he shifts his leg, increases contact, adds those muscle movements. "YES!" He can feel the early evidence of her arousal against his leg as he moves it.

"Mine!" she growls, the sound too deep for a human throat, her eyes gone violet. "My mate, won't let them touch you, get the least taste of you." She shudders. "They can only have you if you go," For a moment she looks lost, heartbroken at the idea of him leaving.

With her straddling his leg, he's able to sit himself up a bit - finally convincing his arms and his abdominal muscles to cooperate - and reaches one hand around the back of her shoulder, pulling himself closer to her.

Staring right into those endless, beautiful, stunning violet eyes.

(He could get lost in those eyes.)

"Yours," he says firmly, conviction strong in his tone. He is not going anywhere.

Relief comes into violet eyes when he speaks, and she claims his mouth with her own. The kiss is a wild thing, hard, hungry, as she ravishes his mouth with her tongue.

One arm wraps around him, holds him close, while her other hand keeps stroking his belly, his cock, teasing.

Her wings mantle over them both, golden feathers spread wide.

The intensity of the kiss is enough to cause his lungs to scream in silent protest for lack of oxygen, but Skellig ignores them as long as possible, because it is wild, and primal, and raw, and real and his brain refuses to allow him to break until it is absolutely necessary to keep from passing out.

Stars threaten the edges of his vision, but he steadies himself by pressing his lips to her cheek, her jawline, the edge of her ear.

Whispering low: "I give myself to you, Kreyu. All of myself, willingly. In whatever...whatever space this is, wherever space I may find myself. I am your mate."

"My mate," she growls, violet eyes so very close. She shudders, starts kissing him everywhere she can reach. "While you are mine, I will be yours. Your mate, your dragon," she whispers in his ear. She licks and sucks the skin near his ear.

She's stroking him, and he's getting harder, but she needs more than his leg. She whines against his skin, scrabbles for one of his hands, presses it against the curve of her body between her legs. "Please."

Allowing her to maintain control, he doesn't fight her as she pulls one of his hands between their bodies - but he does respond willingly, allowing his fingers to slide over her arousal, teasing her with his fingertips, a shiver of pleasure running down his spine as she rocks her hips towards his touch.

"My dragon," he mutters, fiercely, kissing at her shoulder. "I will let no harm come to you, let no other lay claim...lay claim to you." It is his turn to be possessive, and it shows with his tone and his touch.

"Yours," she replies, voice breathy. She rubs against his fingers, wet with arousal, the teasing winding the pleasure higher.

"I would have that mouth of yours between my legs until I scream your name in ecstasy. Would you like that, my mate? Would it make you hard again for me?"

Edited 2024-03-31 22:39 (UTC)

Skellig laughs softly, pressing his lips to the side of her neck, before running his tongue along the edge of her earlobe, his voice still a whisper.

"It would be one of many things that would make me hard for you," he says, pulling his hand (and her hand, fingers intertwined) briefly from between her legs to stroke himself. "You are a dragon of many talents. I usually take much longer to recover..."

His hand wanders back between her legs, slipping his fingers inside of her, teasing more eagerly.

"But I would gladly give you cause to scream my name." A brief kiss to her cheek, and then a thought crosses his mind - one she may not have experienced, or even considered. Laying his body back, sprawling on the bed beneath her, he grins, sliding one hand around her body to cup her ass.

"Come up here and let me devour you...while allowing me to save my strength for what I plan to do to you later."

She flushes, pleased, her eyes still violet when he says it usually takes him much longer to recover.

She gasps as his fingers slip inside of her, rocks against his hand.

She's a bit confused by what he's asking at first, but then it clicks. She slides forward, trying to line her body up correctly. "You will be able to breathe?" she asks.

And the question of whether he will REMEMBER to breathe.

"I will be able to breathe."

The answer to whether he will REMEMBER to breathe is up for debate.

But he merely laughs, using his hands on her thighs and her hips to help her settle above him, position her body above his just so - part of his heart aches with how innocent she is, how eager her soul and mind is working to please him, do everything 'correctly' when in reality, they could make hundreds of 'mistakes' in this bed and still have a fantastic experience - while still teasing her.

(There are many other words he could choose to reassure her that she will not hurt him, that he would be careful and mindful of his own safety as he pleasures her. But actions 'speak' louder.)

"Enough talking," he mutters playfully, pressing his lips to the skin of her inner thigh in a brief kiss - before he focuses his attention fully onto her arousal, pulling her down closer to him, working to pleasure her as desired with his mouth and tongue.

She'll learn that she doesn't need to do everything 'correctly' with time, if fate or whatever power brought him here allows him to stay long enough.

She relaxes when he says he will be able to breathe, lets him position her just so. And then his mouth is on her and Oh, OH, it is so good! She gasps as his mouth makes contact with her clit, as his lips tease it, as his tongue seeks out all of her most sensitive pleases. Her body rocks involuntarily, pressing herself just that little bit closer.

The moans he tears from her are loud, primal things, as he slips his tongue inside of her where his fingers were before, as he tastes her, devours her arousal directly from the source. She's a symphony of gasps, little noises of pleasure, loud cries, and pleasured whines for his ears alone. She's a feast, the taste of her so good on his tongue, and all he has to do is reach out with his lips and tongue and DEVOUR.

His hypersensitive hearing is delighted by the sounds he is coaxing from her - the ones that are obvious, and the ones that are much more delicate. All of them mingle together in a rush; the faint hitch of her breath in her throat between moans of pleasure, the way her heartbeat is hammering in her chest. The rustle of her feathers as her wings tremble above them, the bead of sweat that breaks from her jawline, gliding down her throat and between her breasts.

He takes advantage of the 'amplified volume', and allows it to help him better time his movements and touches to elicit the greatest response of pleasure from her, learning what drives her truly wild.

(What drives him wild is that she is all his. His mate, his dragon.)

He does break his feast occasionally to breathe (and allow her to catch her catch her own breath, not wanting to push her too hard, too fast, he wants to make this last for her as long as she wants to enjoy every second of it, pleasure building in her body) and mutter soft words of praise and encouragement against her skin.

Edited 2024-04-01 01:08 (UTC)

She is enjoying this immensely, but over time the NEED for release grows, drives her to rock her body against his face, to give voice to a breathless "please" between the other sounds she makes. The coils of pleasure wind tighter and tighter with his words, his mouth, until at last they SNAP and she comes with his name on her lips.

He does not bother to hide his smugness as she pants breathlessly above him, merely works her through her release; once she is 'finished', he guides her with gentle hands and mildly-delirious (in a good way, because that was incredible for not only her, but him as well) laughter to resettle and sprawl her body partially atop his - the dragon with her treasure.

(His own arousal is aching, pressed lightly against her hip, but he knows she will need a moment of her own to recover.)

"You are a pleasure to all the senses," he sighs happily, stroking a hand down her side to rest on her hip, holding her close.

"So are you," she murmurs. "So good," She looks up at him, violet starting to fade back into brown as her wilder side has had enough to take the edge off.

"How would you have me, when I've caught my breath?"

Skellig contemplates this a moment - allowing his mind to wander through different 'scenarios', all of which are incredibly pleasant, and she'll likely be able to imagine what he's thinking given the expression that crosses his features.

"I would have you however you'd like..." He lightly plays with her hair, focusing on her eyes as the violet shifts towards brown, colors mixing. "Although the strongest vision in my mind is of you straddled atop me, driving yourself onto my cock while my hands are free to pleasure you in..."

Wicked smirk.

"Other ways."

"I like the sound of that," Kreyu tells him. "Have to be careful how hard I ride you, of course."

She laughs, flushes slightly in embarrassment. "Don't know that I could be careful enough if you hadn't made me come already."

She could, but she doesn't know that about herself yet.

"I may be lighter than most men, but my bones are strong enough to handle a greater level of..." he pauses, nearly using the word punishment, but he would not put that negative thought into this moment, into her mind. "Intensity."

His fingers trace her cheek, the flush.

"I would also tell you if you were ever to cause me discomfort," he adds, seriously. "I trust you, but I also respect your power, and I know you would be upset if you hurt me."

"Thank you," she whispers, soft. Kisses him gently,

But one hand wanders down to where his arousal is pressed against her, aching, and she touches, strokes.

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