"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
02-01-2018, 09:07 PM (This post was last modified: 02-01-2018, 09:57 PM by The Creator.)
Rey, Vitalo, and Kylin- you have been eliminated. For the next 2 RL weeks you are haunted by your experience in human form. You will have bouts of sadness and seemingly endless tears. As the end of the two week period nears you will begin to come to terms and the sadness will relent.
The author giggled with glee at the images that danced and whirled along the page. Again the crew of characters delivered, he would say they were even better this time around. Even though he was happy with his luck and the content he was gathering, the stories had pulled at his heartstrings. There were a few wet splatters across his pages of notes and his cheeks glistened from the trail of tears that had run down his cheeks.
He was so close to having what he needed. So close to being able to ship his book off to the editors, but he wasn’t done yet, so he paused only long enough to craft the perfect prompt. This one was written slowly, each word crafted so that the resulting stories were written just so. As he finished the final words he leaned back and smiled. It was full of mischief and almost wicked like he would get a certain amount of pleasure from the efforts of his crew.
Upon the page once more, in perfectly crafted script, was another prompt another challenge, but this time-- the content was titillating.
Take a fairytale, well known or forgotten in the pages of Grimm, and retell it with a modern and erotic twist.
The page swirled to make the scene of your tale, and you find yourself human and….wanting.
The Creator
--The Author--
Round 4
Welcome to the smut round. In this round you are responding to the prompt The Author gave you (see above). You do NOT have to retell the ENTIRE fairy tale, but your post should make known what tale you have reworked, and the general place in the plot your scene is taking place. The bulk of the post should be in the crafting of your smut, if your post lacks smut you will be eliminated. By no means do I mean x-rated graphic detail-- you can stay PG-13 and be oh so steamy. You have been transformed into human form-and will take on one of the characters from the fairy tale. All other characters in your post must be from your fairytale. (Remember as this is a modernization you may take some liberties with the story)
If you need further clarification, ask away. I will update this post as questions are asked so everyone has equal access to information.
POSTS ARE DUE BY: Monday February 5th, 2018 @ 10 pm EST
In this round, your posts are LIMITED to 2500 words Maximum.
FAQ https://www.cs.cmu.edu/~spok/grimmtmp/ <--- If you need help picking a fairytale or your a smut writing feind and want to challenge yourself to a less known tale, this is a good resource.
It can be ANY fairytale, not just Grimm tales, that was just an example, and a good starting point.
If your entered character is a foal (such as Val is a yearling) your pretty little pony will have to morph/go human to an appropriate age
I've had questions about rape/rape-play/fantasy. Since BQ does allow rape/force breeding. I will allow it BUT you would have to set it up as it was arranged consensually (girl is OK with accepting that work/the "scene/roleplay") and put a warning at the TOP/BEGINNING that there are rape themes. If it is not there I will have cassi take it down and you will be eliminated. Also if I get a message from an owner saying no I will note so here ---and you will have to rework your post.
No need to sign up... you may VOLUNTARILY post OOC your chosen fairy tale.... which would ease the creators worried soul of getting all cinderella posts... variety is the spice of life...and smut.
The details (reminders, from round 1)
This is a writing/elimination quest. All posts will be judged on how well the prompts are met, your effort in drafting a creative story- full of vivid imagery and detail that helps the author envision your story, and how well you react to the challenges ahead.
Grammar and sentence structure will not be judged unless it makes the post difficult to read/understand.
No editing allowed once posted
You have no traits/abilities unless otherwise stated
Defects given by fairies are gone (mute, blind, deaf, deformed limbs) but defect given by player (permanent limp from an injury, scars you chose to keep from battles, etc) may remain
The Author has every right to change his characters to fit his needs, this includes changing form, species, even if you are writing alone or interacting with others.
DEFECTS: permanent defects will ONLY be given if you do not post by a deadline WITHOUT notice. You may drop out by PM or by posting so in the thread w/o fear of penalty. Short term defects may be given with elimination.
NO EXTENSIONS will be given.
If need be, the Author withholds the right to a roll of dice if a decision cannot be made on who will advance.
Any and all questions can be addressed to The Creator, in PM or in Connect. Good luck to you.
Every moment following the attack at the zoo engulfed her every emotion. Ronan had survived, barely. The child was less fortunate. The medics had come and gone, leaving her in a state of bewilderment at what she had just witnessed. This would take time, was all she could think. For her and the victims to overcome.
.
She couldn’t just forget. The man, that had been so kind to her, was now a fragment of what he once was. His fine features, torn from recognition. The bulk of his torso overcome with puckered pink scars. She had visited him often in his recovery at the hospital. Been present after each reconstructive surgery. Slowly but surely his outward appearance was changing him on the inside too. Doubt riddled his mind of if he was worthy of love, her love. Questioning his abilities as a man, a provider, a lover. He soon became withdrawn into his own mind. Tucked away into the darkness of his elaborate home. She had not known he was a regarded scientist, and that day he had come into the lion's den was to gather the bird carcass for further examination. To determine if it had indeed died of natural causes or if perhaps it had been diseased. His work had been published in many articles, some she had even read during her studies but she had not learned of his last name until much later. Still she saw him for the kind soul that had assisted her that fateful day, and she was determined not to let him slip away into the darkness.
.
Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, and months into years. The endless emotional rollercoaster was taking its toll on her as well as him. Some days were better than others but she was stubborn enough to see them through. She’d arrive early in the morning, before her classes, to have breakfast with him. Eventually he came to enjoy her company but he still doubted she deserved this. To love such a hideous beast. People talked, rumors spread, and he wished none of it upon her. He could see the affection she held for him and even though he held his own love for her, he couldn’t bare putting her through this any longer. So he decides that this morning he would end it all.
“Aurora… We must talk,” his voice trembling. As she closes the door behind her there is a faint flutter in her heart and by the sound of his voice she knows what he is about to say. “You deserve better than this...than me,” he takes her hand in his and clutches it tightly. She looks into his battered face. Only one eye can focus on her face as the others vision had been lost that day. Tears well in the corners of her own golden eyes. The long waves of her cream locks lay still on her shoulders. A forced smile finds her lush lips as she casts her gaze down. Looking at her hand in his before she speaks softly, “I know what you are going to say...what you want to say. But I don't believe in your heart that's what you truly want…” she musters the courage to look upon his face again, “I love you Ronan. As you are.” There is a deep sincerity in her tone, a longing even. He had tried to push her away for so long and the touch of his hand in hers ignited a passion between them. Taking his free hand to sweep the fallen tendril of blonde hair from her face, he caressed her cheek. Staring into the depths of her eyes as if he could reach her soul. He had longed to touch her. Feel the warmth of her skin on his, but he was weary of what she would think of his flawed body. A gentle smile tugged at his fine lips, “I love you Aurora. I have from the moment I set eyes on you.”
Tracing the edges of her jawline with the tips of his fingers, he brings them to rest at her chin then to lift her face. Coming within a breath of her lips with his own, he hesitated. Her bright eyes lower her view to his lips for a moment before she is closing their distance. Leaning into him with a passionate kiss. Finding herself removing her hand from his to bring both to rest on his chest. His hand on her face holds firm as his now free hand moves to the small of her back, pulling her body to his. With a newfound eagerness they push each other down the hallways of his home. Bumping into walls as they remain lost in overdue kisses and wandering hands. Tugging at articles of clothing as stripping them from their bodies. Hushed laughs are shared as they find the door to his bedroom. She turns to dash into the room playfully. His grip lost on her as a much more defined smile in brought to his scarred features. Turning back to him, she witnesses the happiness on his face. A happiness that had been lost for so long. It causes her heart to beat faster for him.
He slides up to her quickly and scoops her up in his arms. Bringing her to the side of the bed and tossing her onto it. “I’ve wanted to do that for sooo long,” he chuckles. She finds his humor enlightening and she wiggles within the sheets to allow him room to join her. He sits at the beds edge, removing his already undone trousers. She rises to sit on the bed as well. Positioning herself behind him, peppering his still clothed shoulders with kisses. Her blouse had been lost to the halls already. With reservation he begins to lift his shirt. As it is removed, the extent of the damage is made known in the shadows of his darkened room. She does not see the flaws though. Instead she continues showering him with her affections without a single word. They didnt need words. Not here, where actions did more than enough speaking for them.
He turns to her, as her lips wander down his biceps, pleasure lighting his face. Her golden eyes find this but also a hint of uneasiness amongst the scarred lines of his face. The kisses cease as she lift her head to gaze deeper into his eyes. This was hard for him, she could tell. Raising a hand, she cups his face and stares deeply into his good eye. A wanting evident in him that matched her own. The hand on his face turns his jaw upward to expose the length of his neck. Beginning at the base of neck and shoulder she trails soft nimbles all the way up to his earlobe. Her warmed breath heating his flesh along the way. He shudders in excitement before turning to her with a hungry grin.
Slipping into the sheets with her, they continue on their endeavour. Exploring each others bodies in a morning lost to the passions of two souls. The slow drag of soft fingers up her thigh is matched with the tracing of hers down his exposed side. Tempting the softest parts of him to flex at her will. That is until gentle touches are not enough and he sits up, grabbing her hips and twisting her to lay on her chest. Positioning himself to kneel with her legs between his own. Teasing her with a soft brushing of his lips on her buttocks, then inching towards her neck. His strong hands begin sliding up her sides then along her arms to intertwine his fingers with hers, pressing her hands into the mattress above her head. Using them as leverage for each deep thrust that was to come. Making her, his beauty and him, her beast.
Not all that glitters is gold
Beauty and the Beast
Fairytale is a twist of the original story which was a man having an unattractive outward appearance but a beautiful woman falls in love with him for who he is inside. I also wrapped my last post in with this one cuz it just worked out. Being mauled by the lion resulting in many scars across his body and loss of one eye.
Word count: 1,317
I decided to end it before it got into X-rated smut... But feel free to have your mind wander
Huddled on the off-white paper Valensia opens her eyes after she is sure that the stomp of boots and smell of rotting garbage has dissipated completely. Breathing heavily, she stands to look around her, but as she gets to her feet she begins to grow with another change. This isn’t NEARLY as bad as when she had been completely reformed, currently it’s just a dull ache. Nothing to make her collapse or scream. Similar to over-used muscles and bones lengthening when a child goes through puberty. Her hips and rear curve into a pleasant shape, hair begins growing in not-so-pleasant places, she doesn’t like the part when these two perky little things begin poking out of her chest. Her old clothes lay in shreds at her feet as they are too small to fit on the now 18-year-old woman.
Another folded up pile of clothes is within reaching distance and she is quick to adorn herself in the garments. Lacy black hipsters can just be seen over the snug fitting, low-rise, wrangler jeans. She chooses to forgo the confining bra, instead taking the black spaghetti strap that just barely manages to cover her belly button. If she had a mirror Valensia could say that she looks like a sexy/supple version of the starving child she had just been. Glossy ringlets fall down her back thick and soft against her skin. After putting on the romeos; she bends to pick up one of the tattered princess shoes, what a shame, I rather liked you, she croons to the small badge plastered with the happy faces of fairy tale princesses. Especially you, she looks to Tianna as she says this. To marry a frog prince? The idea is just so magical, and the possibilities are endless. If there is even a chance of it being true, then some man trapped in the wrong form could accidently glimpse her from her window and fall in love with her. Her honey eyes sparkle with the dreamy quality of a young innocent girl not yet experienced in the art of love.
Valensia! Get down here this instant! Her temptations to remove her clothes in front of the window for some handsome prince to take notice of her is shattered by the cringe worthy voice of her brother. She jumps from her bed pulling out a book from the shelf sliding her finger between the pages as if she had just closed it. Breathing out her mouth to calm herself, she steps from her room shutting the door behind her. Scrambling downstairs she passes the little sitting room, and breakfast nook they share to peak around the kitchen doorway. Yes Nicolae? She bites her lip hoping that he hasn’t somehow guessed what she was about to do. What do you think you were doing? He’s not yelling, but then, he has never needed to yell at her. The stern stare of his eyes is enough to make her want to roll over and beg for forgiveness. She chews her lip looking to the floor with tears burning her eyes. She can hear him sigh before the heavy weight of his palm clasps on her shoulder. You know you were supposed to wash the dishes this morning. I can’t do everything around here Val. His tone so gentle so soft that she can’t feel relieved, if anything she feels worse than before. Indulging in day dreams of princes, and princesses rather than doing the dishes to help her tired brother makes her sick with shame.
Promise I’ll do it right now! He gives her a reassuring hug before walking off to take care of some of the nets. He’d become more of a father to her over the years than she could have ever dreamed possible. They may be far from any form of street life they used to know, but they also are far away from the lap of luxury they want to know. Their struggling business only survives because the generous man who owns the docks allows them unrestricted access to bring in their daily hauls. She has never met the man, but Nicolae says he is kind, and often her brother chooses to give him any extra fish they are able to spare. Nicolae has never described the man, nor has she been tempted to ask about him. When she pictures him she sees a grandfather with a wide girth, mustache, balding head, and a smoldering pipe held by a large paw of a hand.
She’s humming that old lullaby of Charlies, when a knock on the back-door startles her into dropping the plate she is washing back in the soapy water. The sloshing suds leave soapy trails down her arms cheeks neck and shirt. Trying not to get exasperated she takes a deep breath leaning her head back to calm herself. After flicking her hands over the water, she shuffles carefully over to the stove where a dry towel is neatly hanging just waiting for her to pick it up and pat her face dry. Clutching the rag to her now clingy shirt front she heads to the door. Another rude pounding and her lips purse. She is almost tempted to slow and make them wait a bit for this trouble they are putting her through. Instead she sucks it up, throws the towel on the floor and flips her hair back over her shoulder. Valensia takes the knob jerking it open so that only a screen stands between her and the man on the other side.
Her balled fist digs against her jutted hip, incensed with the rudeness of this newcomer. Watcha want? tersely the words come out; she raises her chin snubbing him as much as a little 5-foot girl can. He stands there smirking down at her. Clean-cut hair and clean-shaven face, his features are stunning with dark eyes leering. She blinks rapidly, unsure of how to continue. The man takes advantage of this and opens the screen slowly like a predator who knows everything his prey will do or say. Hesitantly she takes a step back unsure of him and his motives. When his hand extends, knuckles brush her cheek. The contact sends icy chills through her and she jerks back as if he had slapped her. He raises his knuckles to her eye level showing her the suds he had removed. Her face and neck light on fire embarrassed that she gave him reason to touch her. If you’re here because my damn brother said I’m looking for someone. I’ll show you the door, just like all the others. Seething in her need to exert some control Val takes this opportunity to firmly jut her finger back at the screen that had just swung closed behind the man. She swallows hard shifting her weight uncomfortably, trying to make herself more imposing and failing miserably. Others huh? He looks to his feet stalking around her until he is in the kitchen headed towards their freezer.
She huffs and crosses her arms to block the air that is making her chest cold after being doused in dish water. Just here for the fish, he points to their large chest freezer, that is… if you don’t mind. The snark drips from his mouth as he continues to walk over gathering the bag that Nicolae had set aside for the costumer. She bites her lip once again flaming with embarrassment. She opens the door, eyes to the ground, unable to look up at him. You are to pretty a thing to keep turning down suitors. Her lips thin as she makes every effort not to let him have a piece of her mind, he’ll leave, just leave… she’s about to explode into a vicious tirade when his boots finally cross the threshold and the door is swiftly shut; the lock clicking behind him. She understands that her brother is trying to be a father to her but sending men to her under the guise of customers isn’t what she is looking for.
Valensia spends the rest of the day getting things done around the house, when her brother comes back they take their meals out to the porch. It’s beautiful out tonight, she stuffs her mouth so that she doesn’t have to answer him. Did the customer come and get his fish today? she nods shoveling more food in. What was his name again? I can’t remember. Snapping, she slams her plate down on the wooden stand next to her rocking chair. Storming into the house to grab her jacket, the screen bangs shut a few times behind her. He is quick to follow, calling for her to stop. Just as he is about to walk in she marches right past him; but not before he snags her arm causing her to spin and face him. Her jaw set, she glares with a new defiance she had never felt towards him. They stay there in a standoff, and she can see the shock written on his face.
Before he has a chance to recover she takes off down the steps zipping her jacket up to the chin before shoving her fists into her pockets. Fuming she doesn’t stop walking until she is at the docks. When she gets there, she takes a moment to think. He’s just trying to help, she’s becoming a burden and she knows it. Hot angry tears run down her face. How can he expect her to marry someone that she feels nothing for? What about romance? and love? She kicks at the pier once, and it feels good, she does it again. Before long she finds herself screaming and kicking mindless from the rage that courses through her. Maybe you should consider not fighting it. She startles so easily, cursing Valensia turns with her back to the water. The shed where they store their nets is too dark for her to see who is present. Yea? Well maybe you should consider not sneaking up on people. A figure steps from the shadows steadily coming closer to her. Chestnut locks fall in waves just touching his shoulders, a heavy brow hiding his eyes from her.
Shifting her stance, she licks her lips. Who are you? The stranger raises his head and his eyes reflect the ocean in their color. He has well-kept stubble and deliciously broad shoulders. Her mouth parts to form an o. His lopsided smile looks so familiar her brows knit together trying to pinpoint where she may have seen him before. Me? Oh I’m just a dock hand. There is something about him… Who are you? His expression… Oh, uh I’m Val, she shakes her head trying to bring her disconcerted feelings back under control. Sticking out her hand she attempts to be brave but he doesn’t take it. Instead studying it intensely for minute making her feel exposed and vulnerable in ways she doesn’t understand. Just a handshake? There is something about the way he says it that give her shivers. He comes closer to her stooping his frame so that if she tilts her head, he can easily kiss her. His tanned skin glistens against the moonlight. Mesmerized she whispers,you’re so beautiful, the chuckle comes from deep in his chest. She feels a new type of flame beginning to smolder deeper within. Her legs squeeze tightly against it.
Shallow puffs heat the air between them; wide eyed she gazes up at him. So are you, a husky whisper is all she gets in response before he turns to leave. It’s not until his back is turned that an irresistible urge to reach out has her hand clasping his. Something comes alive in that touch, and it leaves her gasping. She finds herself without words, she can’t dare to think it. Shaking she slowly begins to walk around him so that she might see his face once more. Standing in front of him she studies every inch of his face. Her hand reaching to cup his cheek, and when skin meets skin it’s as if something consumes her. Valensia can’t stop with just this, trembling in her vulnerability she hesitates hovering just a feathers width away from her first kiss. He hovers over her, waiting for her; though his eagerness to close the distance seems stronger than his will to let her to initiate. He doesn’t blink, she thinks that he wants her to understand exactly what is happening. Strong hands clasp her hips forcefully pinning her against his causing her breath to hitch.
Whatever she felt in taking his hand; is nothing compared to the burn in her arms urging her to wrap around him. She needs to swallow against the desire to taste his lips, but it’s the unbearable itch to tangle her fingers in his wavy locks that makes her dizzy. The few seconds that he spends waiting for her seems like a lifetime. So, when he can’t seem to wait any longer, she gets all the things that she had been craving and more. He hoists her legs around his hips in the midst of their kiss so that he can carry her. She doesn’t know where, doesn’t really care at this point. A gasp escapes and she arches her back at the rough shove against the shed’s back wall. With her fingers loosened from his hair, it doesn’t take long for them to be up over her head, pinning her securely in the position of his choosing. He pulls away from her lips leaving her wanton. The fire blazing in his eyes is both delightful to watch and intimidating to be under.
All the thoughts and daydreams of her first kiss, of passionate love, or white knights and princes all seem so pale and bland in comparison to this. Never can anyone say that they have felt more alive than in this moment. The ripping of her shirt brings her back to reality, and just as she is about to moan he swallows it before it can escape. He coaxes a hungry response out of her that she never knew she possessed. In the heat she can feel everything nuance and it’s somehow not enough. It stirs growing taking her to places never discovered, sweat forms on her skin, and all that can be done is to follow her instincts. They master her until dawns light finds her drawing circles on his chest. What are you thinking of? a gentle smile twitches at his lips. Your brother, he won’t accept me as a suitor, a low thrum resounds through her chest, he just needs to meet you. She giggles in her bliss of finally finding the one. Stay with me? she leans on her elbow looking down at him searching and pleading with her eyes. Always, he growls, but it’s when he flips her over to steal another kiss, trailing them down her throat that her lips open and she lets out a shuddering breathing; blissfully shutting her eyes.
“And there was you - your fair self, always delicately dressed, with white firm fingers sure of touch in delicate true work. I loved you then.” - Charlotte Gilman
The Fish-man is a Salish Folk/Fairy tale of a girl that turns down many men until one starts visiting her every night. She wants to tell her parents but he doens't want to. When they do say something the parents refuse him and he takes away their food until they give him the girl.
Modernized parts:
PG-13 Smut Scene: (kept it as far from R-rated as possible) First night the “fish-man” visits her is on the docks
Fish-Man: The dock master, pretending to be a dock-hand.
Father figure: Her brother Nicolae from previous story.
One of many rejected suitors: Customer her brother sends to the house.
Word Count: exactly 2500
Leap watches her sleep – grazing every sweep and curve of her porcelain skin. A remnant of silver moonshine lingers on her back, clinging to the unkempt roughness of her honey-yellow hair and he finds a strange solace in watching over her. Her clothes, which she had so innocently flung upon the gracious branch of a gnarled tree, sway slightly in the gentle night breeze. Abandoned in favor of a burr’s kiss and a nettle’s embrace and he must smile at her little dreamer’s heart. Today I will travel naked, she had laughed. Saedís – not quite asleep can feel the yearning slant of his gaze on her naked skin, like the gentle touch of a butterfly-kiss. She is surely blessed, she thinks, that he found her that day.
”Princess Saedís of the City of Dreams”, he had jested, that very first day that they had met. Lying here, under the light of the moon it seems an eternity has passed since they stumbled upon each other three nights ago in the forest. She – with skin as white as the pallor of whale bone beaches and the indecision of a wanderer in her eye had stumbled into his forest in the wake of broken dreams and failed ideals intent on finding herself in the arms of boughs and fir and forest magic.
He had salvaged her – taken her reluctantly into his woodland home. ”These woods can be treacherous, it is no place for city girls and pseudo-hikers.” Oh, they had been, but he had taken his role as protector and guide seriously, scolding her gently as she stumbled through the forest, warning her of poisonous berries and greedy insects. And somewhere, between a slip and a stumble their blossoming friendship had turned into something else.
Oh, that first day – when she had staggered on an oaks burly root and fallen into his arms, with burning cheeks and a mumbled apology. But his scent; a blend of man and tree and wildflower had intoxicated her, and he had venerated the way the curves of her body fitted into his like a key in a lock. He had deep set eyes that told forever of some hidden misfortune that had befallen him – but when those eyes met hers she could have sworn that she had seen a hunger there too; fever-bright and burning
She knows that they are soon at the end of their journey, and that come tomorrow – their ways must part. She must return to her city-life and he, well she is not sure where he will go. But they still have tonight, and she opens an eye to look up at her forest-guide. ”Longleg Leap” she teases and with an encompassing sweep of her pale arms she beckons for him to join her on the forest-floor; presenting to the world the beauty of love. ”the night is long and I am cold”
He had the face of a lover as he sank down beside her – and her words rang out in a melodious song, the spellbinding cadence overwhelming the nightbirds to silence. The lyrics ebbed and flowed from her sensuous lips and joined in the chorus of nocturnal melodies and strains. The scent of jasmine and anise shifted in the breeze, granting the night an ethereal sense of romance.
He moves with the fleet grace of wild things as he bends over her, letting his lips trail the back of her neck and along the curve of her cheek. Her high cheekbones and soft hair glow in the stardust, and a soft moan escapes her lips at his touch. The pale fall of her body was illuminated in the moonlight and her heart was lost to the dreams and the poetry of a mystical night. And he; he goes weak at the knees and falls into the curve of Saedís like a long lost lover does. And, all lips and tongue and aching slowness he makes her body his. She in turn tangles her body with his, and her breath is a sweet-fire kiss on his skin as she hums his name over and over again. She scrapes shy teeth over his neck, just short of the life-vein, and savors the thrum of his pulse that beat in rhythm with her own. His name is a white-hot whisper in her blood – and he is the breath in her lungs and the wind that lulls the waves into cresting, the winds that bring the storms, the fires in primordial suns. Over and over she calls out his name, and like this they tend to infinity – the motion and the energy and the trembling in the edges of perception.
Oh, but it does not last long, because this world is not perfect and such state of bliss – of stasis – of immortality – cannot last. Before long their bodies are lost, and their minds, scattered. She sighs then, into the sweep of his neck and as he untangles she immediately feels the sharp ache of his absence in her veins. She mourns the loss of the bright-hot presence of his skin pressed against hers. But the bright blue of his eyes are drawn towards east – where the first trembling rays of sunlight can be seen.
”We must go” he tells her and she knows it to be true, nevertheless she wishes she could have stayed there with him forever.
She does not yet know if she can be willing to leave the earth-bound borders of the forest to go with him where he must go. She does not know if her strength will permit it, for she knows that if she passes further into the mists, further from the wide-world just beyond the borders of the forest, she will never again return. Her body is pledged now, form and function, to him. But her heart is a dreamer’s heart.
He seems to know this as they walk; hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder – because there is a tremble in his body, and he has sensed something on the wind.
They reach the edge of the lake come evening – and she wraps her delicate arms around him, kissing him with a quiet devotion that leaves him starving for more. The crickets and nightingales croons gently upon a branch above them – the flutter of wings are, to Saedís, as cherished as a lover´s touch. In the wake of morning, of leaving this place her clothes have been left on the tree branch – whisked away by the forest itself as if she is not meant to leave this place. His hands are hot against her skin; his eyes has not been admiring the fall of leaves and sun, not at all – and they are pining and hungry as he runs a hand down the soft expanse of her neck. There was a feral sort of seduction in the way those hands touched her; meant for the wild and untamed. Those hands knew every inch of her flesh, as if he had always held her. She leans back into his touch, thinking that it would be so easy to stay here, to lose herself with him, in him, in their love.
But she sends him away with a soft kiss to the cheek – for she has not yet found the self that she is looking for, and he must carry on. For he is bound to forest and reason just as she is bound to moon and dreams.
And such is the story of how a princess from the City came to live the rest of her days as a recluse in the forest – for she had already lost her heart, and without a heart you can never find meaning in your life.
And whoever would happen upon the lonely old woman would see a face and a body weathered by time and hear the soft words floating ever so sadly upon the ears of songbirds.
SAEDÌS
Word count: 1,338
Fairytale: Leap the Elk and little princess Cottongrass - instead of an elk and a princess I have turned them into a young girl trying to find the meaning to life by going hiking and a forest guide.
Ceara was in her little red Cooper. The windows were down and the music was blaring, and as she drove, she felt a slight pricking in her head as she drove faster, the trees pushing, once again becoming sticks, the color retreating until there was nothing left in front of her but the road. Blank pages turning until finally the familiar blaring of a pencil pushing to paper. The story was changing, and although Ceara could feel it, she just kept driving, the tears falling from her eyes slowly drying, the story ending.
The road stretched on before her, and she put on her red-rimmed sunglasses, turned up the music even more, and pushed her foot down on the accelerator, and she kept driving.
And eventually, the color came back into her world. Imposing mountains teetering to the sky, cut off by the clouds and the blue green of the pine trees that took over her landscape overwhelmed her. The smell of the evergreen assailed her senses, and she inhaled greatly, closing her eyes in satisfaction. It was a beautiful sight, and she smirked a smile of knowing. When the road curved, the landscape opened up to reveal a small town, and Ceara settled herself deep in her seat, placing her hands firmly on the steering wheel, her trunk loaded full of cookies; the thought of which triggered a note for Ceara to stop off at the children’s hospital on her way to donate the sugary treats. It was a momentary stop, but one that would make a lot of sick kids very happy.
Ceara didn’t get up this way too terribly often, but when she had been a kid, she remembered spending her summers up her grandparents, enjoying small town life. At Christmas time, she’d hit the slopes - she had learned to ski before she could really run. Such happy memories here for her and her baby brother, whose life in the city was much more busy than hers was. She owned studio apartment in Georgetown, and as an award winning baker had enjoyed some success having a reality television show that showed her ability to bake fantastic cupcakes. However, cookies were where it all had started, and without the holidays spent at her grandmother’s side learning to bake, she would not be where she was. So each trip was laden with a carload full of goodies to the ones who most deserved it - and likely would most appreciate it. This trip was different though. This time, she would not be meeting her grandmother on the other end for a massive baking session.
This summer was to be different from all the rest, and with a heavy heart, Ceara tied her hair back in a messy bun, all smiles as she handed out her cookies. Chocolate chip were always a favorite, and among hugs and and smiles and chocolatey little faces and dirty fingers, the young baker was able to forget for a short moment why she was there in the first place. Job done, She waved goodbye to the nursing staff, promised a new batch on her way out of town. She put on her red wool coat, placed the hood up over her head, her hands in her pockets, and went back out to where her bright red Mini was waiting. Turning the ignition, she reversed gear, and careened out of the parking lot, heading out of town and towards her grandmother’s cabin.
Aerabella Smythe had had stage 4 lung cancer - stubborn to the end, she had refused to go to the doctor until it was too late. She had enjoyed many years with her husband, who had been a two pack a day smoker - and after contracting COPD and emphysema due to second-hand smoke, had eventually died; ironically in her kitchen, in the middle of baking a batch of brownies. Aerabella’s attorney called her family, but as Joash claimed to be too busy to make his way up the mountain, the duty had fallen to Ceara, who had dropped everything, closed her bakery, and come to settle affairs. Months had passed since the funeral. After all the flower arrangements had died and all the hot dinners had been eaten, it was time to settle the affairs of the will, and it was what had brought Ceara back to the mountain for the second time this summer season.
Ceara’s grandmother had always had an eye for things that glittered. After her grandfather died, Aerabella had never let that settle her down, and her “people” - gardener, handy man, and delivery man - always seemed to get younger, and more beautiful with every batch that rolled through. A chuckle resonated in Ceara’s throat when she thought about her 80 year old grandmother having designs on a man in his mid-thirties, but she smiled with remembrance that Aerabella had known what she liked, and had lived long enough to demand nothing less than exactly what she desired.
Her lawyer was no different.
And when Ceara pulled up the drive, it did not surprise her in the least to see her grandmothers lawyer turn toward her, drink in hand, clad head to toe in a well-cut Armani. His hair was swept back from his face in a way that showed he tried containing his thick locks, but the way it still held to its wild roots and the way that his dark green eyes almost went black in a predatory gaze as he saw Ceara get out of her car, put her hood up over her head, and walk up the stairs slowly, showed that he was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Liam Parker saw what he wanted, and as soon as he had seen Ceara that first time, he had known exactly what he wanted. It was nobody’s secret that Aerabella’s granddaughter and the young attorney dealing with the old woman’s estate had sparks firing off for each other, but in the course of dealing with the funeral and settling affairs, seeking anything resembling a relationship would have been extremely inappropriate, and with a small mountain town watching virtually their every move, it had been hard to act on anything… or on each other. Ceara did not fall easily, and when she had first met Liam, shortly after Aerabella had been diagnosed with cancer, Ceara had found it hard to think of anything else the entire time she was visiting her grandmother. And since she spent 3 months at the cabin, it was not hard to find time to see each other in such a confined space. There were only so many places to go.
Liam Parker was a successful attorney who had grown up locally, and had made his name as a defense attorney in the city. But he specialized in small town law (or so he told his clients, who hired them to take on their local cases). He was a local darling, but in the courtroom, he was a cut-throat bastard who only knew how to win, and how to charge $600 dollars an hour for his services. Aerabella had hired him to settle her estate in the event of her death, and Liam, who had known of Ceara for years, had joined for exactly one reason.
He wanted to devour her.
And now, standing face to face in the aftermath of Aerabella’s death and all they’d experienced together, it was finally time to enact the last part of the old woman’s wishes - that Ceara would inherit the cabin.
Liam had arrived before her, and had already gotten a warm fire going. Pouring himself a 3 finger brandy, he went out to wait for his conquest on the porch, knowing she was not long in coming. And when he raised his glass at her in lieu of a hello, she looked directly at him, but said nothing as she got out of her car and headed up those stairs.
“Hello, Ceara,” he said, most welcomingly.
“Hello yourself.”
Ceara said nothing as she moved passed him, opening the door to an open concept log mountain retreat with a roaring fire and exposed beams. The kitchen was a baker’s dream, but Ceara only had a moment to place her red-hooded coat on the back of the couch before she turned around, seeing Liam placing his empty tumbler on the banister, and closing the door, latching it behind him.
And that was when he started for her.
She said nothing but a groan as Liam approached her hungrily, like a wolf devouring his prey. His lips and tongue found her mouth, begging her for kisses as she groaned into him. Her arms went around him as she immediately instinctively removed his jacket, his fingers playing in her hair as he took down her messy bun, throwing her hair tie into the fire. Liam whispered hungrily against her as his hands delicately wrapped around the back of her neck moving up and cradling her head. “I want your hair down. I want to run my fingers through your hair. I need to feel my fingers in your hair.” Ceara pulled away from him, her busy hands whipping his belt off him, before going to the closure of his trousers. “She the fuck up, Liam, and just kiss me.”
A flood of clothes peels away from their bodies until the glow of naked flesh is highlighted by the fireplace. Liam reaches for Ceara, grabbing her by the ass and picking her up. Instinctively her arms and legs wrap around him like a second skin as he walks across the livingroom before sitting down on the couch, placing her in his lap. His hands caress the warm, rounded globes of her bottom, and the lust in his eyes is palpable as he pulls back and stares at her, glowing, naked goddess of perfection, her black hair rolling off her delicate shoulders in a way that mesmorized him. “You’re perfection, you know that?” His voice was much more gentle than usual, his eyes raking over her body with satisfaction.
Those full, plumped bruised lips that had been kissed feverishly. Her chest was heaving as she dragged in her breathes, leaving her perfect breasts to dance before his hungry eyes. And her eyes, almost glowed red with lust, looking at his perfectly sculpted body as she rocked her most sensitive places against him, feeling his hardness between her thighs. The action caused him to roll his eyes and groan, and she got off his lap, got on her knees, and placed his long shaft inside her mouth. Her tongue made long stroking movements that were expertly crafted to drive man wild, and Ceara was on fire as she moved one finger from him, and placed it between her own legs, feeling her wetness. She smiled darkly, refusing him his purchase, not allowing him to climax as he thrust his hips toward her face. Pulling back, she smiled. “You may be a wolf in the courtroom, but in here,” she said, squeezing his member. “I am the predator.”
Liam looked at her, but said nothing as she got up from her place on the floor, settling herself squarely on his lap again. Leaning down to kiss him headily, their tongues meeting and mingling as she lowered herself onto his shaft, riding him. She moved her hips, thrusting down to met his motions as he began rocking his body to meet her ministrations, impaling her upon his throbbing phallus. He groaned, his hands instinctively going to cradle Ceara’s behind once more.
The peaks of Ceara’s breasts grazed against Liams chest as she rode him, the sensitive parts hardening into rough nubs that elicited a groan out of her, ripping her lips away from his in a moment of frustration, their movements becoming more frantic as they fought to seek release. He pounded into her, and she rocked into him, the hardness and the wetness clashing in animalistic, primal ways. The glow of the fire was slowly dying, as Ceara’s crys of satisfaction and desperation slowly escalated.
Liam grunted, grabbing Ceara and standing up again, flipping her on all fours as he grabbed her by the hips, pulling her back into him. She met him thrust for thrust, until they both crescendoed at the same time. A final grunt, and a groan, and Liam’s release was imminent, his seed spilling inside her. He did not stop, though, he kept on, feeling the quivering of her nether regions as she convulsed around him, crying her own climax before her knees buckled underneath her, falling into the couch with a satisfied groan. Liam slowed, before finally releasing her, sliding from her easily. Their skin glowed with the sheen of satisfaction, and the air smelled of sweat and sex.
A nake Liam grinned wolfishly as he walked - stalked - across the living room, before grabbing a stack of papers from his leather briefcase. He plopped down on the couch beside her, and pulled down a blanket over their nakedness. Placing a satisfied kiss on her fully on her waiting lips, they both smiled as she settled down next to him, cuddling his naked form by the embers of a dying fire, her voice sleepy, satisfied. “Okay, counsellor, let’s get to work.”
It was the perfect way to start to what would otherwise be a rather boring weekend of litigation.
AuroraElis
