"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
11-03-2017, 04:47 PM (This post was last modified: 11-11-2017, 09:16 PM by Jah-Lilah.)
Jah-Lilah
I know you're tired of loving with nobody to love.
The red mare meandered meaninglessly through the dense underbrush of the forest on this day, stricken with a particularly bad case of wanderlust. She was back to the velvet underground, back to the floor that she loves so much. Her body weaved effortlessly through the trees, she knew them like she knew her own body, like she knew the bodies of her lovers. Her stomach was just beginning to swell slightly, she only bumped it a couple times when she was making her way to a secluded section of the barren woods, the branches stripped clean of their leaves by the winter time. Her hooves crunch satisfyingly in the snow, packing it down and leaving a trail for any who desired to follow. She was unafraid, unbothered. These days there was nothing for her to worry about except feeding the growing life in her belly.
She had one mate who was Keeper of the island, Circinae had stepped into the role as if she was born to do it. Wolf-of-the-Water had found them a beautiful place, filled with all the things in the world that Jah-Lilah loved most. The trees were lush and beautiful, it was warm, there was an endless array of places for her to hide away and nestle a sweet baby in. Her other mate was master of the sky, ever watchful and near to them as always. She couldn't wait to continue their adventure together, the three of them (plus one) in their new home. My firefly was over the moon. When the girl has reached her desired spot, she stops to graze. She pushes her dark muzzle through the surface of the snow to grasp at some shoots of lemongrass hiding beneath the snow. She grunts, kicking again at her belly as another cramp rocks her abdomen. She exhales, sniffing around for some chamomile to soothe her gut.
So just grab somebody, there's no leaving this party with nobody to love.
She was tired of being tired, and so she became restless, no longer soothed by the darkness, nor by the quiet, rhythmic rustling of the leaves that enveloped her within the autumnal woodland she called her own. The ire is rife within the hearth of her chest, roiling and turning, just as her stomach seemed to do – nausea, crawling from the sinful pit of her belly and spreading through each coiled, rigid muscle, dispersing a sheen of discomfort from end to end. The sensation is unfamiliar, and uncomfortable – but it is not the stirring itself that unnerves her; it is the dawning realization of what it might be causing such uneasiness.
Her legs carry her away from the thicket of darkness that cloaked her and kept her from prying eyes – she is quiet, unusually so, keeping to the shadow that so easily hid her indigo silhouette within its clutches. Her body, though still sleek and feminine, is no longer as slender nor as slim – the swelling of her barrel may as well give her away; may as well give her .. condition away. There is a part of her, however small, that is delighted to bear her lover a son (it must be a son – nothing else would do; not for the firstborn). There is a larger part of her that is filled with dread, with uncertainty. She loathed youth, with their spindly, awkward legs, their vivid, often reckless curiosity – their innocence.
Would a son born of sin be any different?
Would she be fond of him; would he be all that she and Gryffen would expect him to be?
Gryffen did not yet know – she hid away from him, loathing the constant, steadfast biliousness that festered within her stomach, resenting the way her midsection slowly became heavy and burdensome with a stirring parasite, sucking her dry of her energy and of her vigor. She would find Gryffen, in time – she could never stay away from him for long, craving his touch, yearning to know what, in her absence, has stirred the inner-workings of the mindful madman that had somehow ensnared her callous, shriveled little heart.
Would Gryffen see her as a broodmare; conquered and marked?
When she does find Jah-Lilah, a stark crimson against the untouched dusting of white, she is wary of the sensation that stirs suddenly within her – the pitter-patter of her heart, the tight clenching of her stomach. She preferred power, prowess, and yet she felt bloated – distended, and not at all like herself and it only serves as fuel for her self-loathing. Her uncertainty. Her insecurity. Foul words, often spurned by the wry and dubious mare – but she cannot keep her mind from wandering; from wondering if the sin growing and blossoming within her womb would be her end.
There is a moment of hesitance, in which she is sorely tempted to disappear into the darkness yet again, to permit it to drape across her like a heartening coverlet .. but there is something rooting her; a magnetizing draw pulling her to the wicked soothsayer, and before she can hide away, her eye has met with hers –
And she can no longer hide.
With a soft, sullen sigh, her legs carry her closer to her, pressing the darkness of her lips to the familiar smoothness of her russet skin, coaxing whatever sinful part of her remained under the surly mood festering within her dreadful, brooding heart. Her dreary gray eye and its abysmal black twin quietly trace the heavy curve of her hip to the roundness of her barrel, and she is quiet for a long, lingering moment –
All these other beings lame and you know it now, but when a real woman holds you down, you're supposed to drown, bound.
There is no other sound in the deafening silence until she hears the crushing of snow beneath another's hooves. She doesn't spook, doesn't startle, she just simply raises her delicate feathered head and looks. Her dark nostrils inhale quietly, and then the scent is there. It is Dark-Moon, sans her grotesque lover. My flower child is glad of it. Her recent run-in with the ruler of Sylva has left a bad taste in her mouth, and she is finally getting her irritation and her belly settled by some peaceful grazing deep in the heart of the blackened forest. Should Dark-Moon come for her, let her come. My mare is unafraid and intrigued by the roan creature. Steel sharpens steel, after all, and Jah-Lilah can appreciate beauty other than her own in the world. Truth be told, she got the vibe that his little bluebird would rather fuck her than fight her, even if her king commanded it. Jah-Lilah can't deny there may be a bit of reciprocity in those feelings.
Thana sheds her coat of darkness and approaches, only the light of the moon shining down on her to light the night. Jah-Lilah has ironically given the fireworks a rest tonight, her mind on other things, her body resting, using extra energy to split atoms and grow the seed within her. Jah-Lilah doesn't attempt to hide the way her eyes rove hungrily along the other mare's frame, drinking her in. There's a curve where her rump meets her thigh meets her hock Jah has never noticed before, a feminine swell in the girl's belly that makes Jah perk her ears.
There's something that happens inside of my firefly when she sees this taboo thing in front of her that she can't quite explain. There is a ruthlessness, a throwback to the wild days this girl carries within her. The times when they didn't speak, it was only body language and noises, predator and prey were real things, just as @[Thana] was predator and Jah-Lilah was prey even now. Or was it the other way around?
Her heart begins to thump against her ribs with every step closer she gets, her stomach doing acrobatics, but not from the baby this time. She's squirming inside, writhing, fighting against the ties she's created for herself. She wanted this, wanted to commit, wanted to be bound. She could have said no, fucked them and left them like all the others, but she didn't. She stayed, and was ready to bear their children. Still, Jah-Lilah was wild where it counted, was still an animal at heart. Her insides burned with a feeling only brought on by this yin to her yang, this opposite to everything was, everything she wanted to be. She wants to grab her mane, pull her close with desire, wants to press her body along hers roughly and bite pieces out of her. She wants to fight the mare as she holds her down, holds her close. She wants to cry out as the girl put her mouth beneath her tail, to lash out with her hooves. She does none of the above.
What Jah-Lilah DOES do is catch her breath in her throat when in two short strides Dark-Moon closes the gap between them and pushes up on her, wrapping herself around my red mare. There is a profound air of sorrow, of insecurity that she's never felt from the powerful beauty before. It's invigorating, the vulnerability suddenly shown to her. It's like Thana has shed a shell, she bares herself to my mare, naked and truthful. Jah-Lilah can do nothing but accept her, it's not in her to turn any away. Dark lips part to caress her, and this time she doesn't shy away, doesn't send an electric feel to ward the girl off. She opens herself up, and receives her. She clucks softly and returns the grooming, nosing at the mare's slightly protruding barrel, and then a question is posed.
How do you carry it so well?
Jah-Lilah smiles, a look almost sad in itself, and answers instantaneously, no thought at all. "I have no choice but to carry it well. It is a burden and a blessing only we females can carry, no male could do what we do." She rubs her head along the mare's bluish neck and shoulder, allowing their dark manes to mesh, her feathers tangling into the tresses of the two-toned woman. "You bear your cross well too, Dark-Moon. Remember, we are the closest thing to the Earth-Mother, for only her and the children made in her likeness have the ability to create life. We are the true power that walks upon her back."
Bound to fall in love. What you doing out here on a Thursday? She says she's only here to talk about birthdays.
She cannot mistake the tendril of wanton lust lingering within her gaze – she can feel her heavily-lidded eyes tracing her soft and feminine curves, where the pale moonlight cannot reach. For a fleeting moment, her insecurity is soothed – comforted by her desire for her; reminded that she is desirable and even irresistible, despite the dreadful heaviness within the pit of her roiling stomach. It is unspoken, the magnetic attraction that provokes her to be closer to her, to press the invisible boundary line of what she should not and what she cannot do.
Her dark, sinful lips press yet again to her skin, feeling the electricity crackle and rouse beneath her skin as her heartbeat does the same. Her teeth graze along the sensitive, crimson flesh, eliciting a shiver from the depth of her deeply curved, feminine spine, where another had lay claim to her with urgency and desire as he pressed his seed deep within her long ago.
Each no longer barren, growing full and round with the unborn – and though she, herself, is uneasy with it, Jah-Lilah is not, and she is drawn to the sheer energy radiating from her. She is glowing and draped in luscious, thickened tresses that tickle along her cheek as her lips seek the tender column of her neck. She is enamored by her, her scent heady with pheromones and holly and pine, stirring a longing between her legs that had been forgotten amid her wallowing despair – and the scent of her does not go unnoticed. Though Jah-Lilah does not yield to her innermost, hidden desire to entangle herself with the coy and seductive creature pressing herself against her shapely physique, the dampness between her legs is more than telling of the crackling lust yearning to be set free.
The gentle swell of her barrel brushes alongside Jah-Lilah’s scarlet shoulder as she brushes the warmth of her body around her own, encircling her slowly and methodically. She is quiet, focusing instead of the steady hum of her heartbeat and the increase in her breathing, puffing soft and subtle clouds of fog from flared nostrils as Thana caresses her with a gentleness she is not known for. With urgency at bay, she aches to take her flesh between her teeth, to distract herself with a cry of anguish (and of delicious, delightful pleasure mixed with the sin of her pain) –
But she does not.
Her muzzle brushes along her hipbone, while the darkness of her parted lips caress the curve of her backside, where the long entanglement of her tail lay. The temptation is there to take her, to put herself in control again, to feel some sort of hold and power over another as she cannot seem to do for herself as she brings her closer to ecstasy with the fervent caress of her mouth - but again, she does not, knowing that somehow, she is untouchable.
That somehow, she cannot. That she should not.
She can sense her loneliness as her body writhes beneath her touch (had she been without the touch of her arduous lovers?). Quietly, she becomes still – staring out into the darkness from whence she came, lost to the burden of her own thoughts. She is breathless with the way her intestines are coiled with the soft, stirring movement of her own unborn child, growing, blossoming, and for a moment, her arousal is forgotten, and she is bound to the veracity once more.
With her shoulder aligned with hers once more, her gaze is met reluctantly, fire and ice, while Thana contemplates the wisdom within her intricately words imparted to her with insight and understanding.
”I am not like you,”but Jah-Lilah already knows it is true – moon and sun, a black hole to the endless, beautiful string of galaxies”I do not feel powerful," she whispers against her flesh with uncertainty; a confession she dare not speak aloud to any other! Certainly not to Gryffen. ”I feel nothing like myself, and what if ..” Can she speak the root of her insecurity? Why should she, how could she confess it to her when she barely knows her but for the heat of her skin pressed against hers and a few witty, sour words exchanged in humor?
”.. I don’t want to be another broodmare. What if it is not the son I want? What if ..” she trails off moodily, burying her kiss into the intimate crease of her jaw instead of confronting the insecurity breathing down her own neck.
We ordered champagne but still look thirsty, rock Forever 21 but just turned thirty. See I know you got a bad reputation.
Even with the knowledge that she is protected by her invisible shield of electricity, she is on edge. Her nerves are on fire with sensations brought on by the bluish mare. How was it they kept finding each other in all the great land that was Beqanna? The Earth-Mother seemed to be throwing them in each other's paths for a reason. Jah wasn't here to question this, only here to receive the message. As they mesh together in an embrace, skin pressed against skin, Jah-Lilah feels right. She doesn't feel like she's violating any contracts, doesn't feel like she's crossing any lines. Everything just feels right. The past and the future merged here, freezing them and pushing them forward in time. My mare allows her electricity to pulse from her skin and tingle them both, a mixture of pain and pleasure that Jah-Lilah has found.
Bites find their way down Jah-Lilah's flaming frame and she arches her neck and back to receive them. There is no pushing away, only rushing forward to meet. Her own mouth parts to reciprocate the actions, her teeth perhaps a little rougher than appropriate, perhaps not. The thin skin on her face is mashed haphazardly against the back and spine of Dark-Moon as she exhales with a groan, lipping at the female's tender side. There is a security in non-commitment, asylum in knowing everything is as fleeting as the wind. They are not lovers, they are not friends, but they are kindred spirits. There is a certain solace in knowing the other will not come home at three in the morning bringing only lies...but there is a hollow emptiness to it too.
It is scary, for Jah-Lilah to think something can have such control over her. To make the girl want to change who she is, inside and outside. To desire to put on the skin of another, to please the object of her desire. Half of the trip was the freefall though, the relinquishing of such control, to let go and drop. He had caught her, saved her, made her a different woman. A mother, a guardian, a goddess. Eyes cast dreamily in Thana's direction, she shudders as a trickle of her very essence slips from between her dark folds and flees down the inside of her thigh. My firefly is ready, she makes no fuss trying to hide it, if @[Thana] wants to come for her let her comeee. How can he not see her? Jah-Lilah sees her. How can he not see her?! My mare sees all of her. She is a masterpiece.
Coiled around her, Thana makes her the center of the universe. Her neck stretches out so as the girl weaves her web, Jah's lips brush down the side of her frame. A graceful sway all around, the girl is as mesmerizing as she was during their very first encounter. My mare is not sure she could break this trance, to leave this moment even with a gun to her head. The whiskers of the mare barely scratch the surface, and there is a tenderness in the forest this evening that is enamoring. A move to the rear, Jah-Lilah watches, turned on by seeing herself be turned on. Her teeth click together as she fights the urge again to lash out. She squeals as Thana's nose dances dangerously close to her pussy, burning now with desire and lust. Swiftly she jerks a rear leg in an upward motion, the energy has to go somewhere. Her tail slashes through the air, flagged and flung over her back.
Suddenly a stillness overcomes the pair, and Jah-Lilah rests her head on the back of the mare, chin rubbing against her withers. She dreams in both worlds. As blood rushes in and out of the child inside of her, she thinks how in this moment they are one. More one than they probably ever will be again. Jah-Lilah's breathing increases as the girl speaks. Afraid, accessible, exposed. No, they are nothing alike, and that is the best part of all. Jah-Lilah is already on the edge, the Earth-Mother was there when Canaan said to her I love you so much, spread your legs for me and pull me in, in, in. Breathless whispers like the ones Thana is giving her now. She wants the girl to feel what she feels, needs her to know what this is like, this mental mind-fucking going on.
In a hushed tone she shushes Dark-Moon, suddenly turning and pressing her lips to the woman's ear. As close as Gryffen was the day he "ruined" Thana, as close as Canaan was when he changed Jah-Lilah forever. That's how close my mare needs to be to the little bluebird this evening. Her voice is low and throaty as she speaks, quiet but firm. She's demanding attention. "Close your eyes, feel what I am saying. Get on my level, Dark-Moon. Nothing real can be threatened, you could never be a broodmare." Jah-Lilah is now as intensely entwined with Dark-Moon as she could be, short of being inside the great Nightmother. "Your greatest love will be your salvation, and with every tear, your torturer," she motions at Thana's barrel. "That colt will be your remedy." Her face so close to the girl's, her mouth tickling the side of her face. Hot breath streams over her closed eyes as she brings them closer to mental orgasm. "Let me take it away, the doubt. Give me your troubles..." my mare's eyes are closed now too, and she's fighting her own strange urge to suddenly mount the other female. "I can make the creature in doubt disappear. Let me pull the insecurity from you, nut, after nut, after nut..."
the girl tries to hide herself in the comforting crook of Jah-Lilah's neck, and my mare grunts, a guttural sound coming from a different place. Thana is concerned about her child, and Jah-Lilah snatches her close, smothering all thoughts of the unborn. "Your son will be everything you hope him to be, because he is you, and because he is him. He will be perfect, and you will have nothing to fear. Stop this." Embracing the breaking female, she nibbles and tugs at Thana's mane, fighting the urge to bed her this lonely, moonlit evening.
A walk around, always mad reputation, a leave a pretty girl sad reputation, start a Fight Club, Brad reputation.
