Sequestered -- Shilo/{Nathan?} -- MA
Title: Sequestered
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Shilo/{Nathan?}
Rating: MA
Word Count: 584
Summary: Shilo dreams of things other than going outside, too. || Potentially part one of two.
Warnings: First story I've written in a long while, be gentle. Also, sexual content.
The dream was about a soap opera Shilo often watched. In it, the female lead was meeting her new beau in a smoky nightclub. The dream was so vivid, she could even hear the upbeat opera music thrumming in the background, see the bodies of the other patrons as they danced and swayed together in the low-lit place.
The music seemed to swell suddenly, when the man she was waiting for appeared, and to Shilo's surprise, the man turned out to be her father, Dr. Nathan Wallace, hair slicked back, wearing a business suit. He didn't say anything to the woman, instead giving her one of those very serious soap opera faces that were supposed to mean a lot, but usually just confused Shilo. He then swept the nondescript woman into his arms, and kissed her lips.
Shilo realized abruptly from her vantage point in the dream that the small, black haired woman her father was kissing had turned into her. In her dream, she kissed him back, feeling a startling sense that some kind of spark had shot off in her nether regions.
A noise from the waking world caught her attention, beckoning her to open her eyes, but she didn't want to. In her dream, her father had cupped her chin, just as she'd seen on television, and was gazing at her in a way that caused her heart to swell. The noise kept coming, however, and there was a point where she could cling to the dream no longer, and sighed internally before turning onto her back. She kept her eyes shut, to try to reflect on the dream, and keep it fresh in her mind.
It had made her feel like touching herself.
The noise that had awakened her entirely forgotten, Shilo slid one of her small hands up her leg slowly, trailing it up along her hip, pushing her nightgown up and her blanket aside as she went. That hand, her right hand, exposed her frail and ever so pallid body to the room. She cupped one of her small, pale breasts, and brushed at her nipple lightly, giving her a shiver that ran down her entire frame.
She'd fallen asleep wearing her wig, and some of her hair lay across her face. With her free hand, she brushed it away, and began to slide her left hand down her bare belly, until it rested upon her downy sex. Shilo sighed, and began to massage with both hands, one kneading her breast, and the other caressing the outside of her little mound.
Behind her eyes, she imagined her father as she had seen him in her dream; hair slicked back, without his glasses. His pale green eyes staring into her dark ones with an expression that she couldn't fully understand, but that she liked... She loved him so much, and wished in moments like these that he would kiss her on the lips, the way people did on television... Maybe even touch her like she was touching herself now...
She whimpered, as she pressed her hips up against her fingers. The lovely bit of fluid that dampened her fingers made them slip deliciously against her clit, and she responded by gripping her breast harder, and bucking her hips up again.
Shilo imagined now that it WAS her father touching her, and her pleasure grew with the lurch in her lower belly.
"Dad..." she said it quietly, but her voice was high and lilting.
"Shilo," a deep, gravelly voice replied.
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Shilo/{Nathan?}
Rating: MA
Word Count: 584
Summary: Shilo dreams of things other than going outside, too. || Potentially part one of two.
Warnings: First story I've written in a long while, be gentle. Also, sexual content.
The dream was about a soap opera Shilo often watched. In it, the female lead was meeting her new beau in a smoky nightclub. The dream was so vivid, she could even hear the upbeat opera music thrumming in the background, see the bodies of the other patrons as they danced and swayed together in the low-lit place.
The music seemed to swell suddenly, when the man she was waiting for appeared, and to Shilo's surprise, the man turned out to be her father, Dr. Nathan Wallace, hair slicked back, wearing a business suit. He didn't say anything to the woman, instead giving her one of those very serious soap opera faces that were supposed to mean a lot, but usually just confused Shilo. He then swept the nondescript woman into his arms, and kissed her lips.
Shilo realized abruptly from her vantage point in the dream that the small, black haired woman her father was kissing had turned into her. In her dream, she kissed him back, feeling a startling sense that some kind of spark had shot off in her nether regions.
A noise from the waking world caught her attention, beckoning her to open her eyes, but she didn't want to. In her dream, her father had cupped her chin, just as she'd seen on television, and was gazing at her in a way that caused her heart to swell. The noise kept coming, however, and there was a point where she could cling to the dream no longer, and sighed internally before turning onto her back. She kept her eyes shut, to try to reflect on the dream, and keep it fresh in her mind.
It had made her feel like touching herself.
The noise that had awakened her entirely forgotten, Shilo slid one of her small hands up her leg slowly, trailing it up along her hip, pushing her nightgown up and her blanket aside as she went. That hand, her right hand, exposed her frail and ever so pallid body to the room. She cupped one of her small, pale breasts, and brushed at her nipple lightly, giving her a shiver that ran down her entire frame.
She'd fallen asleep wearing her wig, and some of her hair lay across her face. With her free hand, she brushed it away, and began to slide her left hand down her bare belly, until it rested upon her downy sex. Shilo sighed, and began to massage with both hands, one kneading her breast, and the other caressing the outside of her little mound.
Behind her eyes, she imagined her father as she had seen him in her dream; hair slicked back, without his glasses. His pale green eyes staring into her dark ones with an expression that she couldn't fully understand, but that she liked... She loved him so much, and wished in moments like these that he would kiss her on the lips, the way people did on television... Maybe even touch her like she was touching herself now...
She whimpered, as she pressed her hips up against her fingers. The lovely bit of fluid that dampened her fingers made them slip deliciously against her clit, and she responded by gripping her breast harder, and bucking her hips up again.
Shilo imagined now that it WAS her father touching her, and her pleasure grew with the lurch in her lower belly.
"Dad..." she said it quietly, but her voice was high and lilting.
"Shilo," a deep, gravelly voice replied.