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

[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."

[brave_kreyu]

"Then I would have had to rescue you, dear Skellig, tend your wounds." She's almost done with his chest. "Would you have let me approach you in such a place, beneath the moon?"

"In many places they would have been right to believe it the work of the Fae, or that I was meant to be bait to lure them in for some other creature to feast on their flesh."

[27_53]

"Seeing your wings, I might have. Cautiously, of course."

He extends one of his arms to her, so she can work more of the balm into the skin of his upper arms where there is also sunburn radiating heat.

"Although perhaps...if you were acting as bait, it would be your flesh I would..." A wicked smirk crosses his face, uninhibited. "Feast upon."

[brave_kreyu]

She works on the proffered arm. Whatever is in the balm, it works REALLY well.

She catches his wicked smirk, but doesn't get what he's implying. "How would you do that?" she asks, slightly confused.

[27_53]

His smirk drops slightly, and he quickly cocks his head to the side, studying her expression (she's joking, right?) and using his senses to ascertain that no, she truly has no idea what...

A flush raises through his cheeks and chest.

"Ah..." He clears his throat, having to consider just how he is going to explain this to her. "I would seek to bring you to release as I did before...but rather than with my hands..." His fingertips twitch slightly as she hits a spot on his bicep. "I would use my mouth and tongue."

Feast upon.

[brave_kreyu]

"Oh!," she replies, flushing. "I, I would like for you to feast upon me, then, sometime when you are feeling up to it."

She starts working on other sunburned places with careful hands. "Would it work, if I feasted upon you?" she asks, curious. "I could not fit all of you in my mouth at once, not in this shape, but I did not have my hand on all of you at once either."

[27_53]

"It would work," Skellig reassures her, nodding lightly. "I...it would work."

His flush deepens as her careful hands work over his forearm, as the image of her mouth and hands moving over his cock filters through his brain, and he has to cough to clear his throat, settle his...feelings.

"I would gladly, once we finish with the balm," he adds. "I...will have recovered, sufficiently."

[brave_kreyu]

Kreyu beams. "Then I should like to try it on you, after you have devoured me. But only if it would not strain you, you have put your body through a great deal today."

Most of Skellig got burned today, so she has lots of ground to cover with balm.

[27_53]

"Today has been...tiresome," he agrees. "But with the Light that is within this space, my body has found it a fair deal easier to recover. It has taken less time to replenish my stores than it typically does."

Her joyful spirit and the eagerness in her soul are also helping, in an infectious sort of manner. So are her hands, working over his reddened skin, soothing the dry patches and scrapes, scuffs from the fight.

[brave_kreyu]

"There are ways to work on a space, make it a kind of magnet for power," she explains as she rubs and soothes his skin. "I should teach you, so you could make a place like this of your own, if you wanted."

"I don't know if it would work if you managed to find your way home, but knowledge is never wasted." She doesn't want to think about him leaving, but she has no right to try and 'trap' him here.

"Almost finished, except for your back. Your clothing protected you a bit, especially below the waist."