Sailing Vessel the Djinni's Jewel ~ Samheen 19th

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She shivered, from fear or cold she didn't know. She wanted to cry, her arms crossed above her chest to keep their eyes at bay, creating a defensive barrier over her pretty bosom. She did not answer the question, only stared at the floor, tears welled up in her eyes but refused to let them free. Her knees were weak and she wanted to fall over but denied them the ability to do so. She shot a wicked glance at the man who held the collar, but lacked the ability to fight back.

"I don't beg." She returned her gaze to the floor and did not prepare another fist. There were just too many.
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"Oh, you will learn to beg," promised the large, dark pirate as he reached forward and slipped the noose-like collar of rope over her head. Yanking this tight such that it trapped her hair close to her neck, he then moved towards the hatch and up the steep, narrow steps to take her...forcibly if he must...to the open deck above, the rope collar tight and well tied, an easy product for any man of the sea be it merchant, navy or pirate. He had little difficulty yanking Automne along, every pull of the rope jerking the noose tighter still.

The day had grown somewhat overcast, and the breeze was still blowing fine from the south, though that was not unusual for their position. The merchant crew had been collected upon the forecastle, all of them standing morosely and helplessly as they watched the pirates empty the Jewel[/b]'s hold and carry goods across to the [i]myrmidon. Some of the sailors had been killed...there were three bodies that could be seen instantly upon the deck, resting in a small pool of their own blood...but Navanod was not among them, and he could not be seen anywhere aboard. Captain November, on the other hand, could be seen easily, standing just near the pirate captain himself, the two men negotiating as if they were old comrades.

"...you're a damned curr, Lincoln Dupre!"

"Easy, easy, November!" came the pirate captain's response to November's protest. "Look...we're in need of a few spars, so we get yours. At least we're leaving you your rope and cord. And I'll not be staving in your water barrels this time, since I've grown...fond of you," shot the Captain Dupre, a wicked smile upon his face, his compromise serving only to enrage November even more.

"If we don't make it back to port, Dupre, our deaths on your hands!" shot November, his fists balled up in rage. "And without spars, we've no hope of it! You're sending us to our deaths, dammitall!"

Instantly the pirate captain noticed Automne when she was pulled up on deck, her lithe form poorly hidden behind her short, thin slip that had ripped and torn in a few places along the way. The pirates around her instantly responded with shouts and calls that were perhaps typical of any sailor, horrible comments regarding her lovely shape and what they wanted to do to her given but half a chance. The pirate captain was a very tall, dark man, though he was not nearly as black as the pirate she had seen before. He was a dark olive color, clearly a man of Muchislie, and his large, dark eyes instantly turned to see her when she arrived on deck. A small moustache and goatee decorated his stubbled face, and a large coat of salt-crusted leather covered his tall, lean form.

"And what do we have here, November? Holding out on us, are yah?" announced the pirate captain, waving off Captain November's look of pity and misery when November caught sight of Automne. "Well met, my lady!" he said to her, gazing down at her exposed form without any shame at all. "So who are you, madam? It seems you've had...a bad run of luck today, haven't you?" he said, slowly stepping down from the aftcastle to join her on the main deck below, his large, heavy broadsword dragging and thumping on the steps behind him as he approached.
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Automne felt a tug of dispair as she hit the top deck. The blood slid on the planks of wood and she turned her face away after determining that Navanod was not among them. She struggled to keep up and free her hair from the rope, hoping to get more air. She managed to free the locks, which lost their ribbon and tangled like fire in the wind. Her skin was pale and creamy, but still held the olive tint of the wood elves. As her antagonizers slung her to the sight of their captain she stumbled and almost lost her balance, but managed to make any leeway with her airway in vain.

As the captain saw her, she locked eyes with November, and forced a weak smile. What it meant? She didn't even know, but at least it was something.


"Well met, my lady!" The pirate called as she began the stupid task of covering her exposed and shapely figure. She did not return the greeting.

"So who are you, madam? It seems you've had...a bad run of luck today, haven't you?"

"Well you tell me," she hissed back, her green eyes a light with a renewed fight though not daring to actually use force. "My name is Automne though I suppose all you bastards see me as is a good f-" She bit her tongue, she couldn't let them get the better of her. Musn't let her tongue slip... especially to speak such angry words. She lowered her head, studying the ground, the tears in her slip, the hairs that whipped her face every second. She did not want to let her eyes get caught in this man's, no, because he was far more dangerous than the others.
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"Oh, what a treat! And she already knows how to serve, it seems! Well, little lady," responded the deadly man as he approached. "If you're so very desperate for me to tell you what you'll be, then I'll take you as mine, and you'll be called Linc's Whore from now on," he said, darting out with one large, powerful hand to grab Automne under her chin and raise her eyes to his.

His face was not unattractive, but it was twisted with an almost sadistic pleasure of his task aboard the Jewel. Large, deep, expressive eyes of warm brown were hidden beneath a mask of cruelty and barbarism, and his long, brown hair was tied carefully behind him such that it blew over his shoulder in a loose, chaotic tail. He stood much, much taller than Automne, more than a foot and some, a very massive, powerful man next to her and one that held an almost feline grace mixed with wanton brutality that reminded any onlooker of a sleek warhorse or a hunting leopard.

"I don't need to be here any longer. Troy, you will finish our business here and get us away," he commanded, his deep, booming commands instantly inspiring action from his pirate crew though he never looked away from Automne. "My name, my dear, is Lincoln Dupre, though you would do well to call me Captain or master when you speak at all. And from here out, that will be precious little if you wish to keep your lovely hair or all four of your limbs upon you. Do you understand, Linc's Whore?" he demanded, refusing to relax the iron grip upon her jaw.
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Automne studied the man's face, the piercing forest green orbs darting in their sockets, eventually stopping, getting sucked into the man's powerful gave. Her breath was quick and terrified. This man... could break my neck if he wanted. She could do very little to pull away and feared to struggle. This man was a terrible entity. A powerfully strong and dangerous entity. A wicked man from what she could see. The terms he set disgusted her, and her insides rolled inside her, shaking and tisting about.

"Yes, Master," she mustered enough courage to speak with a subtly ironic tone, though she was sure her whole body was quivering.
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Linc smiled down at her as if he had found a new toy. And perhaps this was not entirely wrong? Beautiful, yes, she is beautiful. And I can see a little fight in her. Yeah, I think she'll be worth the trouble. This one stays with me... he decided. Instantly he crouched down and grabbed Automne's waist, lifting her up such that he draped her over one of his powerful shoulders, her rear sticking in the air and his hand firmly clamped over her private place...the same place Navanod had so carefully prepared not a mark before...and he turned to haul her bodily back to his ship, her face and her arms dangling down his back as he carried her not unlike a sack of grain.

He stepped up onto the gang plank between the two ships, the two great vessels drifting right next to each other and the water between them rolling perilously below her for a moment as she was carried carefully over, Linc moving cautiously such that he did not lose his balance and drop her. "Don't sweat it, my little whore. You may find you have a taste for live aboard the Myrmidon," he said, his powerful chest buzzing and the hooting calls of a hundred sailors filling the air as they watched her scantily covered form carried across to the pirate ship, Linc's hand the only barrier between her womanhood and their prying eyes.

On his belt was a sabre...it was hanging just below where she could see...but opposite this was a knife. Where her arms dangled she might reach the knife, a long, wicked dagger with a broad, ornate hilt used for parrying...but she could only just reach it, for he was a tall man and his movements gave the knife to shift and move.
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She, despite her predicament did thank him for shielding her a little. However... She grimaced as she recalled his sinister... though not ugly, face. He dominating countenance of grins and wicked teeth. She swung with him, not bothered much by the plank or the swirling waters. If need be she could walk a tightrope. A necessity was the mother of invention, and she needed to be free. She saw the knife and the plan bloomed quickly, frantically, probably crudely in her mind. not paying attention to the fact that others might see, she slowly made swaying movements, lower and lower with aims to grip the knife. Navanod...
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The muscles of Linc's back worked beneath Automne's form, his scent that of old musk and burning incense, a scent that was not altogether unpleasant at all. His movements were powerful and direct, and behind him upon the Jewel the man known as Troy barked out additional orders to stand away and cast off lines, whatever such orders meant, and the pirates quickly set to their task though a few lustful looks followed the Captain's prize as he carried her over to the Myrmidon.

Yeah, this little trollop will come to enjoy me soon enough, thought Linc, the scent of her sex thick about her and her womanhood strangely moist. And what's this? She's enjoying this, isn't she? Oh, what a grand surprise! The newest little firefly in my service! Firefly...that sounds like a perfectly grand name. Perhaps when she's done being Linc's Whore, she'll take that name? thought Linc with a grin, already fantasizing about how he would savage Automne once he returned to his rooms. I think she would like to be tied. If she has some hidden desire for pirates, then she must surely have some hidden desire to be bound, perhaps?

First to the right, and then to the left, Automne managed to grasp the pommel of the parrying knife, her hands cupping around it with some certainty and the blade already feeling loose and responsive in her hands. But Linc's time upon the plank was too fast, too fast...and while it seemed no one had noticed her desperate grab for his knife, she would have precious little time to decide what it was she might do with it, for he had reached the other side of the plank, and he bent low to place her upon it, her bare feet touching the boards of the pirate ship, the deck sprinkled with a fine coat of sand for reasons well beyond her understanding.
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Automne's heart began to thud again, she was sure her powerful pulse could be felt against his back it was so fierce. Her eyes narrowed. I can't think... I must, I must stab him. She gripped the pommel began to sneak her hand down to the grip.... [/i]Why?[/i] The question was so abrupt... sharp and rattling with dissonance that she nearly lost her grip on her only weapon. Why do you want to do that? Certainly this is what you wanted? A grand adventure, powerful lust? Greed... even-Oh you naughty girl![/i] Baaad. The voice inside her giggled. This was not the flower speaking, but the side Automne had tried time and time again. Shut up! She hissed to her quelling thoughts. He wants you, he wants your flesh and may in time NEED your flesh if you teach it to him, I could teach you how. You know how to move, you have the wild inside you. Automne wriggled, came in contact with his stong and masculine scent and quavered all those feelings that Navanod had arroused throbbed again. Pheremones were like fires in her system. But I love him! The voice laughed, You have a child's love. He did not save you. Automne sneered, gripped the blade, but it was shaking. Stab him! Go ahead! Her personalities fumbled, becoming actual people in their own respect, the Tiger... the Firefly cackled and forced her grip cold. She had begun to sweat, her frail and visible figure a battlefield in which a truce had been made, but it had sealed her fate it seemed.
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Placing the conflicted girl upon the deck before him, Linc stepped back to take in her form once more, his large, hulking frame blocking much of Automne's sight. That he seemed so very immense to her was hardly a great surprise, for he was tall even by human standards, and he was quite strong, towering well over a foot higher than she and perhaps twice to three times her weight. And when he stepped back from her, they both noticed at once that his knife had come free, for it hung in her lifeless, motionless hands, a weapon that might have struck him down but would have done little to help her overall.

She could have stabbed me, thought Linc, the vision of his own parrying dagger somewhat startling to him. She could have ended my days, but she didn't. I was right! She wants this, more than she might realize, he thought, though he also considered the cruel truth that she could not harm him at all, for if she were to do so she would be removed from his protection and left to the general crew. If that should happen, she would not survive the lustful, ravenous attentions of over three hundred pirates that lived and worked aboard the Myrmidon. It would have been a very cruel way to die, and she might have understood that fate even as she plucked his knife from his scabbard.

"Well, Linc's Whore. I'm going to call you Firefly in time, for that name seems to suit you better. If you please me...if you work very hard to please me...you'll earn that name along with a place among my crew....a very special place as well. For now, however, you belong to me, and you live only to serve me. Welcome aboard the Myrmidon," he finished, taking up her rope collar once more and leading her to one of the portal doors to the stern of the ship, doors that would lead to his chambers.

The sight of her armed with his knife had left a subtle change in the man called Linc, and even as he turned away from Automne to drag her into his chambers where he would rape her, she could detect a change in him. He did not disarm her, choosing instead to leave his knife in her hands, for he did not believe she would use it, either on him or the rope leash that wrapped around her neck. It was the start of something new, and while Lincoln Dupre would most likely give her some pain as he violated her body, Automne had already earned some of the Captain's respect and trust, for she had kept her wits about her and she had made her choice. Maybe I won't hurt her too badly, he decided, pulling on her leash to bring her along. After all, she can't be a virgin...not with a lovely form the likes of that...
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Automne's eyes were at first as surprised as his as she stared at the blade, a glinting fang on her innocent flesh. Her eyes glowed as she took him in, at sparked as he mentioned Firefly. He's deserves us, for he has power and makes use of it. More than that wistful fool Navanod. Even the flower began to wilt to these reasons. Flower... we will become one soon enough, it's not the way I would have chosen, but in my mind it will suit the new us better than being suckled into birth like the Bard would have done. The flower spoke nothing, one by one the petals became soft and fell under their own weight... the Firefly, the Phoenix would be born from the flower's ashes as it was purged and scorched from naivite. Dear Flower, we will not die. We shall become one. Child and Other. I promise. Automne's body quivered with suspense as she followed him. What would have disgusted her before was becoming now, though secretly, more attractive. She walked closer. The Bard will not come for me, he hid... as he should, a Gem and Bard of mankind... The Flower mourned softly. Then he did not deserve our fiery soul that you have left so cool and frozen for so long. Automne's personalities became closer now to being friends than they ever had been at other times.

Her eyes became slowly more clear and resolute.

The Flower was going to crash and burn.
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The first impression Automne had of the Captain's gallery was space. It was a large room, considering the limited confines of the myrmidon, and the back was dominated by broad, arching, regal windows that gave the stern of the ship her noble look, a broad bench running just under these windows of modest height that topped a series of drawers beneath. A narrow, rickety writing case was placed against the port hull with a chair tucked neatly against it, and a trunk that had seen countless yahren of life at sea was placed next to this, a brass lock protecting it's lid. Opposite these against the starboard wall was a table and several more chairs, the table showing abuse from countless cuts, pokes, stains, and water damage though it appeared sturdy enough in it's construction. An iron lantern hanging from the central brace above was currently dark and unlit, the daylight perfectly adequate for the noble room, and a rug of spun wool covered the floor, dyed a lovely crimson.

Pulling Automne into the room, Dupre sealed the door behind him and turned to her with a smouldering look in his eyes. He made to attempts to hide his lustful, possessive, salacious looks, his eyes lingering over her body, a shape that was imperfectly concealed behind her thin, vaporous shift. Glancing down, he saw his main gauche still in her hand.

Turning away, Captain Dupre unbuckled his belt and threw it towards the writing stand, the heavy boarding sabre slamming into the floor with a merciless Clang! He yanked his coat from his shoulders and tossed this aside as well, the heavy garment falling quickly due to the buckles and buttons set within the dark mass, settling upon the wooden table with a soft crunch.

"Now," he began, considering Automne with very clear hunger, his leonine form approaching to tower over her. "Give me my knife, and do not move from where you stand," he ordered, holding out one broad, strong hand towards her to take up his parrying dagger once more. Yet again, he knew she would comply...and the thought of her consent and her supplication was bringing waves of both excitement as well as comfort. No virgin would be so calm or so bold. She's courageous, I'll give her that, a bravery to match her beauty...
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Look at the power we women pocess, Flower! Look how he burns for us. Silence in her mind.

He protective, hungry, and feral eyes wandering her body both enticed and terrified her. Secret passions she could not hide from herself were brought out from this man. However it was still rape and he, for now and probably a small portion for all eternity, would loathe him for this.

The Flower backed away from the light of Automne's consciousness leaving the Tigress, the Firefly, and Woman to act. The Flower felt the coming of death and was cold to it.

"Now," the lusty captain had for the first time in their cabin begun to speak, "Give me my knife, and do not move from where you stand."

"Yes, Master." She spoke with a melodic, slight and whis'prous voice that chilled the air.. How can you do this!? The Flower was outraged. When you keep things seperate for so long, little dear, they become polars. Festered into what they are now, two opposite sides of the same spectrum. We're both sweetings deary. Im just a bad bad little lady. The Tiger grinned wickedly from the light of her mind, the Flower in the back a tangle of stress and sickness. You will ruin us! Ruin US! The Tiger snickered, The Phoenix prepared to catch Automne's little world on fire, and The Firefly spoke, Frankly, childe, I don't care.

Silence.

I get it I guess. There was resolve in the Flower's voice. I'm dying here today.... there's no way out of it. Agreement. There's our girl, soon to be a lady. The Flower smiled a teary and hopeless smile. But the murderer is going to have on bloody surprise to show for it all-The bastard. All laughed. All was delight in Pan. The Flower may have given her heart to Navanod and would still have killed herself on the blade if she still had a choice in the matter. The Tiger knew life and knew it was too precious to be wasted. You shall see what powers we can pocess as one.

Automne offered the dagger, the blade to herself and the handle innocently turned to him. Even the three-fold-fire that now controlled Automne's movements was scared, though they dare not show it. Automne's hand shook slightly and her pulse was still a raging throb in her throat, hands, feet, and chest. She was sure she was all ablush. Automne's exterior still bared the flower in all aspects, who was soon to bleed and die, leaving nothing but the melded version of her newself: The Bloomed Phoenix Firefly and Tiger, with white residue from the flowers innocence clinging to them for all eternity, leaving them scarred with her sweetness forever.
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The smile upon Linc's focused, intense face was slight and knowing, as if he understood part of the turmoil going on within the girl's heart. He knew it, and he understood it, and he could almost see it in her shaking hands, her uncertain eyes, and her swift, compliant answer. She had been good...oh yes, she had been a polite, demure, pleasant woman in the past, perhaps not so virtuous but certainly never one to hope for such a fate as this. And yet she had fantasized about it, about falling into the hands of a swarthy pirate and being taken and violated by the same, all rules and restrictions placed upon her removed and ignored, for how could she be held to account if she were forced against her will? And how many women desire the same thing? How many dream of a day they might fall under the power of one that would shed them of their morality, their restrictions, their protocol and their clothing?

Taking the knife from Automne's hand, Linc reached out and took up the neckline of her chemise. Moving very carefully to insure he did not cut her, he carefully cut down, the sharp blade ripping through the strong material with only a whisper to announce it's passage. In moments, he had pealed her chemise from her body, cutting it apart and pushing it over her shoulders such that it fell to the floor, leaving her naked before him. And if she wants this so badly, is it rape? thought the Pirate Captain, his hand reaching up to cradle the back of her head. He pulled her head forward a short distance and slid his knife between the back of her neck and the rope that encircled it, cutting it away in one swift, clean swipe. It is no rape if she wants this...if she needs this...so badly. In time perhaps it will be her doing the raping...

Reaching up over his head, Linc stuck the parrying knife into the deck planks over his head, and he pulled Automne's head in closer to his such that his lips met hers, his tongue instantly upon her and seeking to pass into her mouth beyond.
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Her body quaked, every nerve on end... He could even see where goosebumps marked their way down her skin, causing other things to stand out on her flesh. Dont touch me... Dont touch me! The Three-Fold was loving every second, but Automne's body still resisted. Not kissing back, standing there, almost to the point of whimpering.

It was true, since she was born, her family, those above her, comdemned her to a closed shell. Limited sexuality, limited fun. Due to the terms of her conception her mother had kept close shackles in her. Something Automne never forgave her for, running away to the Citadel had been her first act of defiance... was this the second? So close to home, so far from Automne? So far from civility. Here it is run by raw emotion, it's natural....It's wicked.

The Flower made her last stirrings of life, closing her lips modestly, slowly moving back, forbidding the front of her flesh to touch him. Not offensive, not defensive persay, but a reaction.
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Ah, so she hesitates at last! thought Linc, an inward smile of triumph at Automne's feeble and perhaps passive resistance, her ambiguity to his touch. Until now, her acceptance of him had almost intimidated the pirate in a way he could not understand...her need, her supplication, even her trembling hands, all giving the Captain to wonder if he were not simply dancing to her subtle commands, setting himself up to become her slave. But she still held out against him, and that brought out a reckless, immediate need in him that demanded action at once.

With one hand still held behind Automne's head, he took up her shoulder with his other hand, a massive, powerful hand with fingers that had little difficulty wrapping around her upper arm completely, and pulled her to the front of the chamber beside the door, pushing her back against the bulkhead and quickly pressing his body to hers. His hand behind her head pressed their lips together more, his tongue forcing it's way past her lips and to her teeth, and she could feel his other hand slip down to her stomach as he worked his genitals free of his pants, the laces parting quickly to spill his searing member out against her stomach where it quickly grew firm against her almost painfully.

Automne could feel the intense need in the man, not just against her stomach where is penis pressed against her with throbbing, burning intensity but also in his kiss, for he had grown more and more invasive, pressing their lips together until their kiss held the salty taste of blood and his tongue darted upon her teeth, waiting for her to surrender to him and let him in, a surrender he knew would come soon enough.
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The poor boy needs us...

You're a WHORE! A WHORE! What would Elaine say!? What would... what would Finodborn say!? What would he say?

... He did not save us either. He is for some other day, but for now we must survive. We must save this poor boy's sould.

I am no trollop! I will not!

Don't you understand!? If we do not move now it is for him to claim us eternally, to rape our soul out, be he call us our name or not!

A fire of uncertainty. His own dagger pressed against her, it's tight flesh causing an odd ripple of some disgusting and animal feeling to race across her flesh. Automne's panicked body could not get air fast enough.

Bodies are disgusting.

Will you submit? Will you let him conquer us now? To conquer us always? He is a weak man, a strong yet weak man... let us show you.

... The Flower spoke nothing but relinquished all withstanding control of Automne's body she had left. Watch how his body will bend, watch his confusion.

Automne began letting him kiss, not caring for the ferocious blood and cuts that would come from such strong kissing, the swelling would come, but that was expected. She let his tongue enter freely letting it taste her, taste her tools of seduction. Then she began kissing back. The Fire caught in her heart that had once been a cool breeze before. Letting her tongue knot and dance with his. Let's see how you like it, boy. Her other hand reached out snaking around his back and pulling him closer, letting his stiff member feel her curves yet, let him know what precious things she could do. Her muscles were toned, but not terribly so, and she was flexible, a would-be acrobat once upon a time. You'll see... you'll see Flower.

Forgive me... The Flower's voice was reduced to but a whisper.
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When she opened up to him, his tongue found it's way within her at once, charging into hers and tasting of her deeply, the taste of sweet wines, cinnamon and blood coming with his kiss, for their lips had both been broken at least once with the intensity of his passion. His invasion into her was complete, and even has he felt her body begin to respond to him...to soften and warm to him with a passion of her own...he could feel his reservation fall away.

But his frenzied assault upon her body was not complete, for her acceptance of him was still almost frightening to the pirate. Does she think she'll capture me? Does she think I'll play the fool for her after this? he thought, smiling with the thought. No, Lincoln Dupre had seen many a woman, and he had taken a few in much the same way...Liar, he chided himself. You haven't. But you knew as soon as you saw this one that you would take her as your own. What will you do to keep her?

Unable to think of consequence any more, Linc's body was pulled into Automne, her own hands drawing him in and pressing his member against her stomach, the heat of it's touch upon her leaving her skin to shudder. He moved his hands to her hip and her rear, gripping her smaller form tightly and lifting her up against the wall of his cabin while his body shifted down against her such that his phallis crept below her and between her legs, rubbing against her crotch with shattering anticipation.

"Look at me," he demanded breathlessly, having ended their kiss such that he could look into her her face closely, his eyes intense as he watched for her reaction as he slowly, slowly lowered her over him, his searing hot member unyielding and unrelenting as it forced itself up and into her body.
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Automne refused to look at him, though her hands still held him. A wicked smile on her profile. Her skin burned with pointless, disgusting, and animal desires. This entire fiasco was degrading, sex itself was a abhoring act... and yet, there was something beautiful in the rawness of it.

"Look at me," he panted, her own breath seemingly drawn through her olive skin. She looked at him, oh yes she did, with roses and fires all smoldering in her eyes. But the smile faded and she looked at him with glowering countenance. He didn't know she was a virgin, how could he? She put on an act, she was an actress at points in her life and now it was doomed to crew her over... ergh... literally. She could feel his passion, rigid between her teasing legs which did not touch the ground anymore.

"Very well," She frowned, a stoic emotion, except for the slightly turned corners of her mouth which shwoed her amusement with his feral instincts. Eventually hers would kick in, but at the moment her hormones were in check, "Captain." But before the fires that raged inside her could become as condescending as they appeared he began to penetrate her. "Gch!..." She gasped as pressure began to fill her, painfully slowly. The Flower seized control and pushed away from him. No! NO! NOO! Shoving at his shoulders, the fire in her eyes turned a fully panicked green. All this must have been terribly confusing for Dupre, if he even cared to notice that is.
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In one moment, she was resigned to her fate, and in the next, she was filled with haughty indignation and indifference! Linc could not fully understand what fought within her, though he had a strong suspicion...one he would believe...that she was toying with him. She had to at appear to hate him and to resist him, but her heart wanted this more than she could deny, wanted him within her more than she could control, wanted the shackles of her docile and perfectly boring life to be cast away in a moment of raw, uncontrolled passion that might remain as a warm, sensual memory for the rest of her life. This is what the Captain saw before him, as he demanded her to look at him so he could see the pleasure she would take in their coitus, a pleasure she could not respectably allow but one she could not deceive herself out of wanting.

And then he was in her, though not completely, lowering her form over his stiffness, a strong, hot embrace that sent shudders through his body, shudders that begged for so much deeper, so much more. But her face! he thought, watching her lovely face twist in pain and surprise, her hands no longer wrapped around him as she struck upon his chest and pushed at him and struggled against him, the wriggling of her body over his phallis filling him with great pleasure but betraying a savage, terrible truth that she was in great pain...or at least seemed to be in great pain...from his copulation.

She toys with me! he decided, certain that her sudden, frantic resistance was nothing more than a ruse. Let's see if she toys with me more after this... He allowed her to slide down upon him fully, his large, strong hands clutched around her buttocks and his body pressed into hers. She did so suddenly, his hold upon her relaxing only just enough such that he rammed home quickly, settling himself into her fully such that rolling waves of pleasure wandered through his body with the promise of so very much more. "Uhhh!" he grunted, his teeth clenched and his eyes closing tightly as the warm embrace of Automne's womanhood stretched around him completely.
Maeve: It starts with ambition
Meridiuz: It ends with Grant
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Post by Guest »

The Flower of Automne's mind burst into flames, screaming in pain as her hands began to brown and turn to dust. Sisters!!! Tears were streaming down her face. All four had slowly come to accepting their fate, but even they could not fully except the fact that their counterpart was doomed to fade completely. Flower! They all called out with eerie unison.

Automne's breath caught as she made a soundless gasp, the air knocked out of her. Her eyes wide with sudden pain. There was no illusion here. Her fingers ceased their pushing and could do little but clutch shakilly. Her insides held him snugly, probably giving him even more enjoyment, if not giving him a hint at her broken secret. She give a cracking y

The three-fold-fire ran to their sister who was speedily turning to ash beneath them, their own horror was visible in Automne's face for a flash. They picked up what was left of her between them and held her close, bidding all that was left to mingle within them, so that she could never really fade away. Sister... dearest. The Flower faded in their arms, eventually leaving a hazy bloody residue in their hands and smeared on their skin.
Grant
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Post by Grant »

Instantly, Linc knew something was wrong...and he knew what was wrong as well. Dear Father of Heavens, she was a virgin! he realized, the shocking finality of that truth giving his heart to still and his mind to lurch. What he had believed was some amusing ploy from her had proven to be nothing more than her courage, a bravery that refused to show him fear or weakness despite the horror of what she would lose. Of what he would take from her. I'm sorry...

Her hands clawing impotently at him, her face a mask of torment and suffering, her breath came short as she gasped and whined in pain, he could feel her suffering over him, her womb clenching upon him in spasms of pain and violation, her laboring, restricted movements forcing Linc's body to betray him with waves of pleasure that radiated from his member, the instrument by which he had ruined a very precious part of her life as it impaled her virtue, murdering it as surely as any sacrifice or execution. I'm so sorry! Why can't I speak?!? Tell her you're sorry!

Nothing could be done. He could not will his legs to move and he would not shift his feet, for he would not pain her more. Instead he locked his pelvis under her, supporting her upon him as he reached up and wrapped his arms around her, slipping them between her arched back and the wall behind such that he cradled her close, holding her body to his. With his lips so very close to her ear, he finally found his voice, a thin, weak whisper that carried to her amid the torrent of pain that filled Automne's world. "I'm sorry..."
Maeve: It starts with ambition
Meridiuz: It ends with Grant
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Post by Guest »

He too changed, even as her fires mourned the loss of their fourth part. However, the change had happened inside her psyche for whatever reason, she was one personality short, and a little more whole for his cruelty, though that much more ravaged for it. How things would have been different.... How quickly we change our minds. How speedily can pain change our minds. As our body aches for these misgivings and Automne's world now changes, so have we in a sense. To bare our scars... our white flower-scars for the pain of our loss of innocence, as fast as it may have been. This change was meant to happen, as all things in life change. As the fires of Summer age to Autumn, and will eventually fade to Winter. Change... a supreme word.

Her mind was broken at the moment, but her spirit, though slightly bent, was far from being tattered or beaten. Though the mental war and blending had left her too weak to fight back... However, she didnt have to...

His hold became less sensual, more comforting... And at last tears came, ones that could not escape her mouth now flooded forth. An agonized cry of loss and pain. She, like every mortal, thought they were indestructable, thought they could take everything and anything. But the the slightest penetration and break of skin had left her soul and mind spilt and her train of strength broken. How frail these mortals be...

Her arms hung limply where he placed them, but stayed. Her head fell over, leaving her wild hair tp fall down, hiding her face, shame, and weakness. How she hated weakness. Her body shook with sobs that went between silent and gasping. The movements hurt, but she could not stop them.
Grant
Retired Game Designer
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Joined: Sat Aug 23, 2003 10:25 pm
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Post by Grant »

For a moment of time...flickers, burns, maybe even a full mark...Linc held her there, holding her body against his, his heartbeat hammering through his skin and into her through his powerful form as well as his lasting invasion that still burned within her, it's throbbing, searing, rock-hard length almost a part of her now. Linc's eyes stared into the wall before his eyes, his expression one of grim acceptance and his hold upon the tiny woman...for now she was nothing less...never relenting, for he would not leave her now and not let her fall. Her legs were growing numb where they had already been weak, and Automne found her head, thrown forward in surrender, resting such that her forehead was against one of his powerful shoulders.

Now I will call you Firefly, he thought, his earlier words to her...words in which he had called her a whore...a terrible regret to him now. And what will I do? he thought, unwilling to leave her like this...unable to leave her like this. He did not want to look down and see the blood he knew would be there, but he had to act or he would lose her...she would hate him...forever. It is time to welcome her into this world, he decided, for surely she had undergone a rebirth, the end of her childhood and the beginning of her adulthood. He would do what he could. He would try to make her body sing, if it could be done.

Turning his head, he kissed her upon the ear, lightly at first. "Automne," he began, his words hardly above a whisper and yet his chest vibrating with the deep resonance of his voice. It was the first time he had called her by name. "Automne, I...won't fail you," he said, words that made no sense at all but somehow felt right to him, words that needed saying to this devastated, fragile creature in his arms. He followed this with another kiss, angled down to her neck, a passionate touch of his lips to her skin as one of his hands moved from around her to caress her skin, moving slowly across her back and around her waist such that he might awaken and taunt her flesh. Slowly and carefully he worked, kneading her neck with his lips and her body with his hand, always careful that he did not shift her upon his erect penis and risk losing control until she were ready.
Maeve: It starts with ambition
Meridiuz: It ends with Grant
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Post by Guest »

I don't want to be here... Automne thought, I want to be cold and dead and long gone, without all these worries and bardic threads tying us all together. Her eyes were dead of their fire, as tears coursed down her cheeks and her body shook regardless of her depressed and hollow thoughts.

Slowly, however, color filled the world again... "Automne," a singular word, her name, meant so much more now, and so much less? Go away.... Go away names. Her confused thoughts continued through a headache.

"Automne, I...won't fail you," the words came through clearer, and Automne realized she had been crying for such a long time, longer than she'd realized. Her sobs quieted and she remained still... indifferent to his touch. He began to massage life back into her. His kiss much sweeter now, struggling to wake this new Automne up. A stubborn butterfly in her chrysalis. Heat and determination throbbed through his hands into her flesh. She could feel the years of- well just truly existing in this man, and he was offerng what he could to her. Why does he do this? Surely I did not break him as he did I? She thought desperately, but there was no rape in his touch, no need to defile, if need at all: a need to help her....

His kisses began to resonate on her. Why is he so persistent?
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