(OC: Lusa; Between Breaths (An XX Perspective); Cexcells, Blaqk Audio)
WC: 632
Rating: NC-17, adult themes
Do you remember the first time?
Time stopped then sped so fast.
In just three minutes you were mine.
Don't think that it was the last.
"Don't...don't...please." Childish voice, begging; gasping of breath. Low keening - maybe tears?
"Don't what?" A harsh voice, vindictive and demanding.
"Please...please..." Breathing increased, shortened each gasping second.
"Say it." Beg for it, the way I want you to.
"No..." I won't, I won't, I can't...
"Say it..." You must.
"Please don't...don't stop." Last word uttered was quiet, silent almost. Barely above a whisper, but said like a bottled, muted scream. The kind that will ring in your ears for a vast second, then echo for eternity.
"Stop what?" Scarlet locks curls with ebony - entwined like fingers grasping at each other. Teasing lips, smirking wickedly, pulled back from a sore mouth.
"Oh, please...please..." Please, I can't say it, I...
---
The older woman was dressed extravagantly, even when she was nude; the way she moved spoke of a nature both elegant and animalistic. The splendor that only predators can pull off with such ease. That fiery red hair curled around her shoulders like fox fur. It was almost alive in its own way, the way a snake is alive even when it lies motionless for hours. Her green eyes, unlike the green of her daughter, were envious of everything she saw. Immobile fingers laying prints on everything like a dog marking territory.
The younger girl was under her, trying her hardest not to squirm, moan, or do anything encouraging - yet failing spectacularly. Innocent orbs of green questioned her mother - not biological mother, not even adoption, just mother of this new life - questioned why she did these things to her. But neither of them had answers. It simply was.
"Stop what, Lusa?"
"Don't stop...what you're doing. Please." Hands caressed gently, nails drawing furrows of blood on the inside of thighs. The younger girl knew nothing of this, yet longed for it - desire was an all too new concept for her. This woman was so different from her fiancé. And then thoughts of him made her eyes well with tears. In a strange act of compassion, Antoinette licked away each salty trail as the moisture escaped from her fledgling's eyes. A bitch dog attempting to care for a wayward kitten.
"You like...this?" One hand moved up her fledgling's thigh, where blood was welling from deep cuts she'd made on her property. Slowly she began to snake down the girl's body to the opening between her long, long legs.
She lowered those plump lips to the lips between Lusa’s legs, where her fingers had already worked it into a wet agitation. A cat’s tongue first slowly, then roughly licked the clit, fondling it as the girl was forced to hold herself still, lest she tell her maker what she liked - and most of it she found, scarily enough, to be her weakness.
Strokes and long licks brought moans, then screams, and finally shudders to wilted attempts. Finally, Lusa tried to fall asleep. Whenever she slept, she had nothing but nightmares - nightmares that were now her life. Days spent in slumber, nights spent pleasing her mistress in whatever form she desired - parties, social events, or, like tonight, the kind she hated most. Her only desire was to die though she was already half-way there - she just needed to finish the job. Not that her maker ever left her alone long enough for her to even experiment with death; her new condition made general means obsolete.
She closed her eyes, but her maker wasn’t finished; Lusa could almost hear the chuckles emanating from the elder’s throat, laughter at the younger’s naivety. Fingers caress along cheeks before she felt the lips descend. No peace was to be had until the sun rose - the light, always the light drove away all her phobias, her degredation.
She sank back bitterly into the darkness, eyes always to the light.
Rating: NC-17, adult themes
Do you remember the first time?
Time stopped then sped so fast.
In just three minutes you were mine.
Don't think that it was the last.
"Don't...don't...please." Childish voice, begging; gasping of breath. Low keening - maybe tears?
"Don't what?" A harsh voice, vindictive and demanding.
"Please...please..." Breathing increased, shortened each gasping second.
"Say it." Beg for it, the way I want you to.
"No..." I won't, I won't, I can't...
"Say it..." You must.
"Please don't...don't stop." Last word uttered was quiet, silent almost. Barely above a whisper, but said like a bottled, muted scream. The kind that will ring in your ears for a vast second, then echo for eternity.
"Stop what?" Scarlet locks curls with ebony - entwined like fingers grasping at each other. Teasing lips, smirking wickedly, pulled back from a sore mouth.
"Oh, please...please..." Please, I can't say it, I...
---
The older woman was dressed extravagantly, even when she was nude; the way she moved spoke of a nature both elegant and animalistic. The splendor that only predators can pull off with such ease. That fiery red hair curled around her shoulders like fox fur. It was almost alive in its own way, the way a snake is alive even when it lies motionless for hours. Her green eyes, unlike the green of her daughter, were envious of everything she saw. Immobile fingers laying prints on everything like a dog marking territory.
The younger girl was under her, trying her hardest not to squirm, moan, or do anything encouraging - yet failing spectacularly. Innocent orbs of green questioned her mother - not biological mother, not even adoption, just mother of this new life - questioned why she did these things to her. But neither of them had answers. It simply was.
"Stop what, Lusa?"
"Don't stop...what you're doing. Please." Hands caressed gently, nails drawing furrows of blood on the inside of thighs. The younger girl knew nothing of this, yet longed for it - desire was an all too new concept for her. This woman was so different from her fiancé. And then thoughts of him made her eyes well with tears. In a strange act of compassion, Antoinette licked away each salty trail as the moisture escaped from her fledgling's eyes. A bitch dog attempting to care for a wayward kitten.
"You like...this?" One hand moved up her fledgling's thigh, where blood was welling from deep cuts she'd made on her property. Slowly she began to snake down the girl's body to the opening between her long, long legs.
She lowered those plump lips to the lips between Lusa’s legs, where her fingers had already worked it into a wet agitation. A cat’s tongue first slowly, then roughly licked the clit, fondling it as the girl was forced to hold herself still, lest she tell her maker what she liked - and most of it she found, scarily enough, to be her weakness.
Strokes and long licks brought moans, then screams, and finally shudders to wilted attempts. Finally, Lusa tried to fall asleep. Whenever she slept, she had nothing but nightmares - nightmares that were now her life. Days spent in slumber, nights spent pleasing her mistress in whatever form she desired - parties, social events, or, like tonight, the kind she hated most. Her only desire was to die though she was already half-way there - she just needed to finish the job. Not that her maker ever left her alone long enough for her to even experiment with death; her new condition made general means obsolete.
She closed her eyes, but her maker wasn’t finished; Lusa could almost hear the chuckles emanating from the elder’s throat, laughter at the younger’s naivety. Fingers caress along cheeks before she felt the lips descend. No peace was to be had until the sun rose - the light, always the light drove away all her phobias, her degredation.
She sank back bitterly into the darkness, eyes always to the light.