[mature] {private} White Lady; Arithmetic - Printable Version +- Beqanna (https://beqanna.com/forum) +-- Forum: OOC (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=24) +--- Forum: Archive (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=81) +---- Forum: Lands (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=98) +----- Forum: Hyaline (https://beqanna.com/forum/forumdisplay.php?fid=92) +----- Thread: [mature] {private} White Lady; Arithmetic (/showthread.php?tid=18996) |
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{private} White Lady; Arithmetic - Ilma - 04-17-2018
@[Arithmetic] A lot has happened, so I figured they need a new thread to get to know eachother with her brain not being mush from sleepless nights and nurturing a screaming baby RE: The White Lady; Arithmetic - Arithmetic - 04-20-2018 She’s looking for him. The evidence was there within the searching of her eyes as they scan the crevices and steepled hillsides. Summer had faded into autumn in the time that they’d last met upon the ridgeline. The white mare’s foal had been crumpled in the grass below them and he suspected that the filly would be nearly grown now and almost independent. A fact that could benefit him later. Arithmetic I Don't Make Love @[Ilma] RE: The White Lady; Arithmetic - Ilma - 04-21-2018
@[Arithmetic] RE: The White Lady; Arithmetic - Arithmetic - 04-22-2018 Her eyes find him easy enough, the white of her coat blinding as the afternoon sunlight catches it. Excitement washes over her as her pace quickens to carry nearer to him. She still smells faintly of milk, but he does not smell her child any where near. Perhaps he ought to pay a visit with Tahti, to see how she had matured since he’d last seen her. Arithmetic I Don't Make Love @[Ilma] RE: The White Lady; Arithmetic - Ilma - 04-23-2018
@[Arithmetic] RE: The White Lady; Arithmetic - Arithmetic - 04-24-2018 Suddenly, he was all too aware of just how alone they were. Alone upon the mountainside there was no one but the towering peaks above to bear witness their secret meeting. It was painfully obvious how little she knew of him and, listening to her words, he catches the naivity of them easily. Perhaps he knew the true trusting nature of her – he’d relied upon it. Casually he drifted nearer to her, the sweet scent of her heat wafting towards him. Desire coursed through him as he realized the depths in which he wanted her. Arithmetic I Don't Make Love @[Ilma] let me know if you want me to change anything RE: {private} White Lady; Arithmetic - Ilma - 04-25-2018 Ilma is ever a sweetheart. But perhaps more importantly today, this afternoon, she has been brought up by a carefully loving, close-knit family. Protected from the dangers of the world as long as she stayed where she was appointed to; never once has she encountered a horse with a mind so unlike her own, that she cannot comprehened the dark thoughts he may have, intentions he has, the lust that drives him perhaps mad, to do things to her if she wants to or not. The only other time she had been with a man, she had been willing. Truth is, he took the time to sweeten her into it, and afterwards even if she did not regret falling for him, she does regret that she has never known a lover the way she should - as a lover, meant together for a longer time than just the afternoon. As the sunlight seems to be fading into a more orange glow, the low light blocks her view for a minute. But she regards him as a friend - a potential future lover in a sense more than what passed through her mind before. He hums at her words paasively, she hears, agreeing. Suddenly he is next to her, caressing her like the warm rays of sunlight do. She is a bit more tense now. He says he came here for her. She suddenly realizes she has attracted him in a way she would have liked to later - maybe next year. She softly speaks then to the stallion who is hugging her body with his own, blocking one of her wings - intented or unintended, she does not know. ”I like you, Arty. But I can’t have another right now.” she whispers soothingly. Please don’t, her eyes plead. Please don’t want me right now. Whatever she says or does is lost to the black dun. His body so close, she steps sideways, but he keeps it coming. Takes more steps towards her, suddenly looking angry. Was he angry at her now for not being willing to have sex? What has happened to the friend she thought she had? The lover he might have been? She struggles to keep up, but his pace is faster than her mind. When he grabs her mane, she frowns.”Ouch!” But when he doesn’t let go, she comes to realize he is not here for lovemaking. Not in the usual sense of the word. She opens her mouth to yell at him louder, but he hisses at her. Don’t. Don’t scream. She is confused one moment; then she is pushed into the crevice he had so long been aiming for. And she has no way to go. Her head is jerked back and she responses with a gasp. Out of breath, she has no air to call for help. He keeps pulling at her roughly; he mounts her, he enters her, but with hardly any preparation from her side, she is not ready. It hurts, and when he moves and thrusts into her more and more and again and again - she bleeds, she cries, she finally struggles. Her wings are blocked by his strong forelegs pressing unto her, holding her roughly. She sees the dun stripes on his lower legs, once she thought them so handsome, now they’re becoming a nightmare. ”Stop! Please...” but her voice fails her also, just like everything else on her body. His body is heavy on her, thrusting into her and scraping her against the mountain’s rocky sides; she doesn’t want sex to be this way, she doesn’t want a child; she tries to turn, to rear, to buck, but the latter seems only to help him come. It takes only a few minutes, maybe less. But for her it seems an eternity. When he’s done, he’s gone as quickly as it started. The once-white mare weeps against the rock that scraped her shoulders and knees bloody, looking on the outside just as bruised as she feels inside from the sudden intrusion. She hardly hears his words, but that sting will come later. So far for love. So far for her naivity, too. |