slytherynn | Closed: at the mercy of the fae

Oh, fuck…

[ He manages to moan out the soft curse against her lips before deepening it even more, that hunger driving him on relentlessly. She feels so good around him, all tight wet heat sucking him in and his hips buck, pace speeding up now as he rocks into her. Feels the scrape of her nails against his scalp or digging into the soft flesh of his ass. It makes him shudder, relishing the sharpness of it and he groans again. Thrusting deeper, harder, faster - chasing how good it feels with single-minded abandon. ]

[ She lets her moans come as they will, sounds getting sharper has he hastens. He feels good, stretching her to full, moving fast enough she has to tighten her muscles to brace herself. It feels good. She almost wishes she'd thought to wet the counter, so she could glide more easily, but there would be a next time, she was sure.

Still, her heart is racing, aware the last of the spell is locking in. ]

Harder [ she whispers. ] Give me everything you have.

[ It isn't long before she's gasping, her cunt seizing and fluttering around his cock. But now matter how she moves or how good she's feeling, she hasn't told him to come, and so he cannot. ]

[ He chases it all the same, too caught up in the heat and feel of her so tight around him, in the building lust and need. She’s perfect, everything he was craving and he just wanted to lose himself in this. Enjoying each sound she makes, every shudder of pleasure. The way he can feel her clenching tight around him, chasing her own need in turn. He wants to give her that, wants to feel and hear her come undone as he fills her.

It has him fucking her harder, faster, deeper. He’s so focused on it that he hasn’t even realized just how far his own pleasure is out of reach. ]

[ He...wasn't bad himself. As much as she didn't want to admit it. Caught up like this, she finally gives over to the moment, moaning and whispering as she goes over the first time.

He keeps going. Of course he does. She strokes his hair, panting, whispering in his ear. ]

Again.

[ And he does, and just because she's curious, she whispers to him to finish her a third time.

Even as a fae, she is starting to grow tired now, and she sits back, cupping his face and guiding it to look at her. This is it, the final layer of the spell. ]

My sweet servant. You have listened so well, and so I will reward you. Come by me, and no one else, not even yourself, until you are released from my service.

[ it’s easy to lose himself in the heat and the pleasure and the tight, wet clench of her body against his as he fucks her. Chases both their pleasure. The feeling of her tight and coming around him is enough to steal his breath, make his head spin, push him onwards. His own release feels like its right there, one more thrust out of reach, one more deep rock of his hips. Or the next. Or the… But it keeps evading him, dangled like a treat he keeps desperately driving for even as she whispers to him to bring her again. And again.

By the third time, his legs are trembling, throat raggedly gasping for air, skin flushed and damp from the exertion. From the arousal that burns and burns like a relentless hunger just beneath the surface. He’s all but delirious with the need for her, the need to be buried deep, to fill her, to reach that pleasure at last, even as some part of him never wants this chase to end.

By the end, he’s begging in broken whimpers and pleas against her flesh, his mouth on her skin, his hands stroking, grasping. He can’t get enough, might never get enough, but he has to try.

Her words wash over him like a spell in themselves, wrapping around him like a noose and he finds himself nodding, even when his mind can’t fully make sense of them right now. It doesn’t matter - only she does, and whatever she wants, and he’ll give her whatever that is, but he needs… ]

Please, Mistress, please, I can’t…! I need…! Whatever you wish of me it’s yours, just let me…

[ She really isn't cut out for this. The way he starts to tremble, the sweat clinging to him, how good he is continuing to rut and whimper and please--

Guilty. She feels guilty. And she shouldn't. He caused so much suffering and pain. He deserved this.

But it's hard to hear him gasping and begging like that. There's not fun in it. She knows she could deny him and he'd go until he rubbed himself raw, or collapsed from exhaustion. She should. She'd be justified.

Instead she finds herself guiding his head against hers, hushing him as she strokes his hair. ]

Gentle, my servant. You have done so well. I wish nothing more. Come for me. Release all that build up. I will catch you. [ Tonight, anyway. He had a long, miserable road ahead of him. It made no difference if she comforted him now. Her weakness would not interfere with what needed to happen, and no one needed to know. ]

[ Her words sweep over him like the permission they truly are. It’s only then that his body is freed from the magic’s hold enough that that dangling reward is suddenly there, washing over him like a powerful wave.

His nails bite into the soft flesh of her thighs as he thrusts deep with a strained breathless cry. Body shuddering with the force of it, his cock pulses hotly, now sheathed fully inside her as he spills. He shakes, twitching, as it leaves his head spinning and his vision whited out. Gasping and panting for air, he slumps, even as his cock spills. Spent, breathless, he can only lean into her with a blissed out moan as that pleasure continues to shudder through him.

She feels so good. Perfect. Nothing has ever felt this amazing before. ]

[ She lets out a ragged, breathless moan as his nails dig into her, watching him thrust desperately. He's beautiful in his climax, and sad, like a caged thing that hasn't realized yet it's caged.

No, she isn't going to relate to him that way. They're nothing alike. And she has no need for his weight or his warmth draped over her like this.

She combs her fingers through her hair, the other hand dragging nails lightly across his skin, knowing he's the most sensitive he's ever felt. ]

Will you take me to bed, Servant? You've tired us both.

[ He shivers beneath her, his body still humming from the pleasure of his orgasm, from the feel of her body around him. Maybe even from the magic still twined so tight around him, sinking into him deeper with every breath, now that he’s triggered each and every aspect of it.

His head is still too clouded, though, to think of that. He just hums in quiet contentment for any excuse to stay wrapped around her, buried inside of her. Arms lift her, even though he doesn’t pull out, not yet. She’s an easy fit in his arms and he delights in having her there.

Although he pauses a moment later as he glances around her kitchen, at the counter he’d just taken her on, and then around at the doors leading away from here. ]

I’m not sure where your bedchamber is, Mistress.

[ She sighs out sharply as he lifts her, his still-hard cock shifting in her overly sensitive cunt. She holds her strong legs around him, settling into his hold and letting her head fall against his. ]

Through the door, then to the doors at the end of the hall.

[ That guilt rises again, but she knows it must be done. It will be a walk through the main hall of the Low Court, and everyone will see. That was always the plan. That he is marked as hers, that she has subdued him, that she, the untouchable, has taken a plaything.

Well, if she has a pet, it follows that he be allowed to sleep in the comfort of her chambers. ]

[ He turns towards the door she mentioned, expecting to step out into a dark hallway or something leading deeper into the little cottage. From outside, it hadn’t looked as if there were many rooms in the little house, and what he’d seen so far had only confirmed it as a humble little dwelling on the outskirts of the Fae lands.

What he’s not expecting, as he steps across the threshold, is to find not a humble hallway but what looks like a massive, cavernous hall, vibrant and green, covered in plantlife and trees and vines. The sky is open overhead, but in shades of color he’s never seen before, greens and pinks and oranges, like a sunset but it’s as bright as day. Which has him blinking again, because it had been growing dark before he’d entered the cottage. The sun should be long since set by now.

It’s only when he draws his gaze away from the brilliant sky and the wondrous surroundings around them that he realizes… they’re not alone. There are creatures here - Fae, all of them, he can tell. A few of them are humanoid in appearance, as his Mistress had been, but they were a scarce few. Far more of them had wild, strange shapes. Massive limbed forms or plants growing from their bodies, hunched and distorted versions of animals and other creatures he had no name for.

They watched him with hungry eyes, fixed intently on her as he stopped short, pinned in place. A sudden fear shuddered through him, the very strong sensation of prey walking into a room full of hungry predators. His mouth gone dry, his wide eyes flirt around their surroundings, even as his arms tighten around Tifa - clinging to her or trying to protect her, it was hard to tell. ]

[ She feels the cold fear of prey slide though him, and she wonders too when he clings to her if its out of protection for her or fear for him. She's aware of their eyes, too, some approving, some protective, some storing this away to hurt her later. That was what it was to live at court.

She smooths her hands down his neck, squeezing him tighter, her gaze out to challenge anything that might sneer at her. She is not vulnerable in this moment. She is in complete control. ]

Nothing here may hurt you while you are mine, not without my permission.

[ She murmurs it lowly, careful not to sound too soothing. The cottage, at least, had been private. Here she had a face to maintain. ]

Do as I asked; take me to my rooms.

[ He shudders, because all those eyes on them - few of them feel friendly and he still feels pinned in place, like a cornered hare, his pulse pounding loudly in his chest. he’s never been more aware of his nakedness, of the fact that he left his clothing and everything behind and he is more vulnerable than ever right now.

But she soothes him, voice murmuring in his ear, nails scraping lightly against the nape of his neck, he shudders again, warmth rushing through him at her touch. He swallows thickly and manages a nod, ducking his head as though making himself smaller might make him less noticeable, even if he knows that’s impossible.

There are no friends to be found in this place, he thinks. But he just carries her on across the hall, trying to keep his fear hidden as he carries her to the door leading to her quarters. ]

[ She can taste his fear, smell the way his body changes. There's an odd mix of protectiveness over him, mixed with the acrid satisfaction of this human suffering so easily.

Had she and her people not felt that, every time his had come to slaughter?

Her coaxing works, and she feels him make the slow steady walk to the door to her chambers. It opens, because she wants it to, and inside is a suite that is once humble and full of luxurious furniture and fabrics. The roof looks up to the sky, and the windows look on forest clearings of different seasons. She does love this place; not many are allowed here. ]

Set me down, servant. You are safe from them here.

[ He carries her over to her luxurious bed, setting her down on the soft mattress and among the blankets and pillows. He leans over her as he does so, still reluctant to withdraw from her, but lowering her to bed has his still-hard cock sliding out of her, even as he gives a soft groan over the loss.

He licks his lips, gaze flitting to her face, brow still furrowed in concern. ]

Where are we, Mistress? I thought… the cottage?

[ She sighs too as he retreats, surprised at the empty feeling it leaves behind.

He is so gone now, though, looking to her for answers in his fear. She reaches a hand up to his face, patting it gently. ]

You asked if I could show you the way to one of the Courts. You had already found it, and I am it's leader. So really, tomorrow's work is already done. And many tomorrows after that. Why don't you rest, servant? You may share my bed.

[ She withdraws her hand, her fingers going to unlace her corset. The magic has left her tired, and the stress of a heavy thing done has her feeling heavy. It isn't the worst thing, to have a warm body to cling to in her sleep. ]

[ He blinks at her as those words sink in. Something in him knows that’s important - the reason why he was here, the reason he’d been looking for one of the Fae courts in the first place.

But his thoughts were still utterly hazy and clouded with only thoughts of her and none of those reasons rise to the surface, as if everything beyond right now, and her presence before him, is lost in a strange, heavy fog.

When she mentions him resting, he realizes, finally, how utterly drained and exhausted he feels. Like something has sapped out all his energy. His gaze drops to her again, and something in him is eager to curl up against her in bed, but he watches as her fingers go to the laces of her corset and he starts moving before she can. ]

Let me, Mistress.

[ The magic is stronger than she realized, for him to still be that sluggish on his own motivations. A good precaution, but it makes her uneasy about how he will react when he has returned to himself. That is definitely why she feels so uneasy, and not because, as he moves her hands out of the way and gently undoes her laces, she's reminded of a very old, very buried fantasy from her youth, of what it would be like to have a human lover.

He had not been drugged and enchanted in any of those fantasies. Whatever this was, it wasn't real. ]

Thank you, Servant. If you wish to bathe, you may. The washroom is through that door.

[ He glances down at himself, because he could probably use that. After days (he thinks?) of traveling on the roads and then their coupling tonight… He didn’t want to ruin her sheets.

So he just nods and straightens again. ]

Yes, Mistress. Is there anything else you wish?

Only for you to return to my bed when you are finished.

[ The better he remembered tonight, the stronger the magic would hold. Not that he needed it, but no sense stopping when she'd already done so much. ]

Tomorrow, you may bathe me. [ He may be less enthused by it by then, but she can always change her mind. ]

[ He relaxes at that, another task he can worry about later, rather than feel he is no doing enough right now.

He takes a step back, offering her a small smile, still not at all self-conscious over the fact that he stands before her naked and vulnerable. ]

I will be quick then, Mistress.

[ he turns and quickly slips away to the chamber she’d pointed out, to clean up from the day and wash the remaining signs of the road - and their pleasure - from his skin. ]

[ When he is gone, she lets out a deep, shuddering breath, holding her arms to herself for a minute.

This was strong magic, and it wasn't going to be an easy road. She'd have to show the Court what she was doing, and it wasn't to her taste.

And worse, she'd enjoyed it. And she felt sympathy for what he was going to go through.

She forced herself to call up that memory, her town on fire. He deserved this. The humans deserved this.

She gets up, going to a basin to dampen a cloth and clean herself, and she's settled in bed by the time he gets back, covers turned down. ]

Come lay with me, Servant.

[ The tub he finds in the bathing chamber is full of gently steaming water, the oils carrying that same sweetly floral scent her skin had. Intoxicating and mesmerizing, and he was pretty sure he was already growing addicted to it, finding it the most wondrous scent he could think of. It meant that the bath left him still seeped deeply in the hold of the night’s magic, of her spell, of the power of her allure and scent. He groans as he sinks into the water, boneless and sluggish and mind blessedly empty except for the awareness of her. The lingering want that that he doubted would be sated anytime soon.

If his body hadn’t been so exhausted already, he might have returned to seek her out for more.

As it is, after nearly dozing off in the tub, he manages to get out and dry himself before staggering back to her bedchamber. And then into her bed with a sleepy sort of eagerness. ]

Yes, Mistress.

[ His voice is a soft, adoring murmur as he climbs in beside her, stretching out alongside where she lays. His arms wrap around her, drawing her close once more, and he buries his face against her throat, inhaling in another lungful of her dizzying scent before trailing soft kisses along her warm skin. ]

[ She needs that time too. To center herself. To steel herself.

All of that evaporates the second he comes back, nestling into her like the pet he is. Like a child. Like she's safe and going to protect him.

Her arms go around him, gently stroking his sweet-smelling, warm skin. She takes a rattling breath, determined not to let the tears come. How long has she ached for someone to hold her dear, to shield her with affection in the privacy of night and dark rooms? But not like this. This is a lie. This is a curse. ]

Good boy, [ she murmurs, because that's all this is, all she's reduced him to. ]

[ He drifts off like that with ease - something almost unheard of for him, who’d always made it a rule to not sleep with any of his dalliances or short-term lovers. But wrapped around her, the scent and heat of her is more than enough to coax his mind into blissful emptiness that never lets up all through the night.

It’s not until the early morning rays of the rising sun fall across his face that he starts to stir, albeit with a somewhat sleepy grumble at being awakened so early and an obvious reluctance to let go of her. ]

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