By My Lips (Closed)

[Aislin]

Summer 14, 512 AV Fingertips brushed over sweeping silk, causing the dark fabric to ripple beneath her touch. Aislin felt as though she were strumming a harp, despite her never having been taught how to create such a tune. Her body, strewn across the silken sheets, which cascaded over the edge of a simple couch, seemed to sink into the folds, while a single leg dangled over the edge. Her pointed toe circling the white marble floor as though it were a raptor flying over its sighted prey. Her deep red corset top, laced so tightly that her cinched waistline ached from the pressure, creaked. The ribbing rippled against ivory bone, skin drawn thin. Blanched from being rubbed by naught a delicate hand, only lining worn raw with excessive use and wash. Skin seemed to bubble as silken under things, strapped in place by garter and lacy suspender shifted over her thigh. Hip bones which had always been said to protrude a bit too far. To her, it felt as though a man were toying with the strings. His hands trembling with such anticipation in that a few beats from that moment, he could see all her supple curves, he could not take anything off for himself. The thought sent a smirk across her lips; a delicate sparkle into her deep blue eyes. It was enough to cause Aislin's fingers to furl, pinching the edge of the stem. The place where the deep green rose into a bulbous lump. A single finger ascended as she delicately lowered the stem again. Bringing the ripened cherry on the other end closer to her lips. It was enough now for two pale pink petals to brush up against a ripened round. To part enough where she could begin to taste; to stain her tongue with a juice so sweet, she wondered if it were worth swallowing at all, or spitting out. She supposed though, being that she was in the company of so many other shackled beings and those who bound them, that she should swallow. Enjoy the soft tingling sensation it sent through her visage, like the touch of another woman's skin. Another person's lips on her own. Her tongue circled the cherry lazily, pushing it about her lips before her fingers dropped, gingerly lowering it between her teeth where she clamped down. Spilling more blood before tearing it to shreds. Ripping it limb from limb. The cool liquid poured down her throat like a tumultuous rain cascading down a pipe. Aislin smiled wickedly as she reached for the bowl beside her. One designed for customer's pits. Her fingers cupped it, holding it as one may a glass of wine. Subtly, she spit the pit into the bowl, before adding the stem and peering out ahead as she dropped the bowl back off on the table between her own and the next couch. Her eyes grazing over the men and women that the night had swept in. Humans, all seeking a bit of pleasure. Pity, not a single one of them is even remotely cute, she thought as her mark began to sting. Tonight, there were a few like her. A few of the gifted she supposed. Or maybe just a single one. Intrigued, she continued to circle the fabric beside her, that which lined the curtains with a single finger, while her other hand stroked her thigh in soft circles. Building up a heat she intended on intensifying as the night wore on. If only she could find the proper partner to aid her...

[Marcus Ahysen]

Marcus always liked these kind of missions, and when he approached the seemingly run down building that was his destination he felt the anticipation of the night's events heating his blood. It wasn't like he was a stranger to women, Marcus enjoyed the company of his slave and various others on a regular basis, but none of the possessed quite the same type of skills as the women of the House of Immortal Pleasures. Of course he had to remember his mission, but part of that mission meant having some fun. He was not dressed as a member of the Black Sun, though considering the nature of his mission, neither was he disguised as another person. His clothing was unimportant, as he wouldn't be wearing it for long, and makeup would smear with the exertions the night would bring. No, he was himself for the night, dressed in fine white leather and silk. It felt good not to have to wear a disguise, though truly he was still not being himself. He wouldn't mention who he actually was, what he actually was, because that would hinder his mission. Lilith had sent him to investigate the Rising Dawn graffiti they were finding across the city. The House of Immortal Pleasures had been known in the past to harbor members of the terrorist organization, and it was only through the generous donations and ministrations of the House's mysterious owners that the brothel had not been shut down. Still, with the recent increase of incidents in the city, the Black Sun deemed it necessary to take a second look. Marcus was supposed to be a simple client. He only had to ask the right questions and keep an open eye for anything suspicious. If he found anything at all, most likely the Ebonstryfe would be brought in to take care of things after that. Marcus opened the door and crossed the threshold, taking a breath as he did every time he had entered the place. It was such a surprise, no matter how many times one visited, to see the difference between the door outside and the fine establishment within. Beautiful women and handsome men made their way across a white marble floor as the sound of pleasure and pain met the agent's ears. Marcus stepped in, shutting the door behind him, and made his way into the common room. It wasn't long before he was approached by a lovely woman, but Marcus resisted the urge to take her to bed. He had to observe, first, and so instead of accepting her offer he went to the bar and ordered a simple drink. That was when he saw her, a beauty not altogether different from the others, but she had an allure that few others could boast to possess. She was sitting in her own corner of the room, gazing out at the other men and women. But it wasn't her appearance that sparked the agent's interest, it was something deeper. He felt in his mark a kindred spirit, or rather, he felt another of the Chaon in this woman. That both intrigued Marcus, and gave him pause. He had not been informed that there would be other's there, and it was not the type of detail Lilith would leave out. The woman was extremely thorough, she didn't forget things. Which meant that either Lilith had not been informed, unlikely, or this woman was not of the Ebonstryfe or Black Sun. And if that were the case, Marcus knew he had to be careful. Rhysol was the divine embodiment of chaos, of betrayal, and while Marcus loved him wholly, it was because of this that one Chaon could not always trust another. The Black Sun; the Ebonstryfe, they were absolutely devoted to their god. While they might turn on one another to advance their own station they were trustworthy in one thing, and that was their devotion to their lord. They would not reveal Marcus for who he really was, but the rare few who were blessed with Rhysol's mark that were not members of either order.. they were the truly wild ones. There was no way of knowing what they had done to earn a place among the Chaon, and there was no way of knowing what else they would do. One did not have to be a follower of Rhysol to receive his blessing, though they were indeed rare. All his caution didn't matter, he had to speak to her. Those who shared gnosis could instantly recognize one another, which meant she would know him the moment she laid eyes on him. Marcus needed to make the first move, he needed to take the higher ground before this mystery lady had her chance. "Another of the same," he told the bartender, before taking both drinks with him across the room to take a seat nearby. Sliding the glass gently to her, Marcus offered the mystery woman a smile and a request. "Share a drink with me, my lady?"

[Aislin]

Aislin rose, leveling her eyes with those of the opposing Chaon. Each orb seemed to drink the other in as a small smile graced her lips. As her hands danced down her thighs, and then back up their length repeatedly, as though she were straightening out an invisible skirt. "If it should please you, brother," she spoke simply, her tone soft and relatively neutral, nearly inaudible over all the other noises produced within a night's work at the brothel. As soon as the words had left her lips, the prostitute reached for the glass extended to her. Her fingers gracefully circling the stem, for a moment before twirling upwards, cupping the chalice as though it were as delicate as a newborn babe. She pulled the glass towards her then, as she flicked her wrist, a subtle flourish which sent the container's contents into a spiral. The blood red liquid lapped angrily against the sides of its prison, threatening to lick the ends of her nails, as it cascaded down the edges of supple curves; transparent glass. She eyed it casually, the blood reflected in the whites of her eyes. She could tell it was of simple enough make, the tannins clinging to the sides. Sickly pulps which ran down the contours in rhythmically pulsing streams. But still, as crude as such drink was, she would sip, so as not to spill an attempt at splendor. A night's worth of hard work. Gingerly, the voider brought the glass to her lips, and tilted it forward. Allowing the liquid to brush up against plump lower lip. It felt cool enough, although she felt it had warmed some, as though it had not been treated with care. The bottle lain over a bed of ice. Smiling pleasantly, she supped, nursing the container for a moment as her free hand came forward. Fingers splayed, she reached for the acolyte's own. Intending to weave them together as a seamstress would a shredded tapestry. As drink slid down her throat, producing soft, throbbing heat, she'd pull back. Lower the glass enough for her eyes to shine clearly over. Eyes which seemed to melt to little more than ice as her djed trailed lazily through pupils, dilated, dark as coals. "Why don't you come and sit?" Aislin asked, as she gestured towards the couch, which had until recently, been hers alone. "We shall both be more comfortable there," she added, as her hypnotic djed wound itself into her words. Threading strings together. Weaving its way through, as though it were a needle piercing fraying threads. The Chaon would offer a soft squeeze of a hand, before gently pulling him towards the couch. Come with me, her magic would urge. Silent this time; in thoughts projected. Follow your guide. Allow her to lead you into a another world. A place where there is only pleasure. Not an ounce of pain. Aislin's eyes would sparkle as she took up her mantle. Slouching lazily over the chair as she released him from her bounds. Her pointed toes tickling Marcus' leg, as they lazily trickled up his flesh. Pushing fabrics away so that she could get at him all the more; strengthen their unstable connection. She'd take another sip as she watched him, as her spare hand settled in her lap. "So," she'd continue as they both settled in, making themselves as comfortable as possible, "what brings you to the house of immortal pleasures?" Aislin would pause a moment as she tilted her head back, sending her raven colored hair spiraling down the center of her back as her head rocked on her shoulders a moment, her chest coming forward subtly, advertising skin lain bear. But a few heartbeats would pass before her head came forward again, straightening her form. "What sort of sensations do you seek?"

[Marcus Ahysen]

"What brings any man to the House of Immortal Pleasures, sister," he responded, finding himself suddenly more attracted to the woman than he had been before. Aislin really hadn't needed to hypnotize him, he would have willingly gone with her, but her magic worked to distract him from his goal. He found himself wanting to follow her, wanting to allow her to drag him into a world of pure sensation the likes of which only one such as herself could bring. Marcus nearly lost sight of his goal, but then he shook his head and sat up straight, only for a moment, as the spell was cleared. Fully of his own accord he allowed her toes to trail up his leg, even repositioning himself so that she might have the best possible access, but though he knew it or not he had temporarily shaken the spell. He was there for a mission, not for pleasure, and though that mission might allow him to experience some pleasure himself he wasn't going to lose sight of it so easily. "In truth, dear sister, I am here for more than just pleasure, though. Perhaps a fellow Chaon would be interested in helping me, before we move on to other things? I'm certain if you did, I'd be quite generous when the night comes to an end and it's time to repay you." OOCSorry for taking so long.. yknow.. life and all that.

[Aislin]

Iced irises thrashed against wooden barricade. The narrow, circular rim which bound. Bloodied rivers coursed beneath snowy blanket. Undulating just beneath the surface; lending sparkling sheet an ominous, otherworldly glow. Smoldering coals, locked behind jaded walls kept the dark from melting the icy shards completely. Although, the pupils seemed to ram against icy rampart. Sending trickling sensations; lightning strikes through their supports. Formulating a passage by which they could begin to leak into what lay beyond. Obscuring the iris' passivity by the mar of blackened increase. Pools welling into inky obscurity, which soon cast the remnants of Morwen's light into darkness. Leaving the paling blue but a rim which flowed weakly through the weight of obsidian pupils. Come closer, the magic urged as the whore's toes continued to circle Marcus Ahysen's skin. Causing red pigmentation to overcome the sandier as a slight sense of heat began to build between them. Share whatever is on your mind. Tell Aislin your secrets. Your desires. Your hidden wishes. She is here to listen. She can be trusted. Aislin took another sip of the wine, allowing her eyes to fall to rippling surface as she nursed the glass. Allowed the moisture to settle on her tongue a moment, as she lowered the glass and raised her gaze. Beseeching the Chaon to say more as their shared blood trickled down her throat. When there was naught but a pause and the music of a whore's moans to fill their ears, the voider forced her body closer. Sliding it easily across the coach, so that the sides of their bodies brushed. Her toes circling Marcus' calf as her eyes sparkled all the more, in light captured from candlelight. A flickering flame which rested nearby. Her free hand rose, fingers lightly furled. They inched, slowly, closer and closer to the Chaon for a few ticks, before she gingerly set it down upon the nearest knee. At first, it remained in place, as though the fingers fell into the supple curve of a crescent. Nails gliding up and down over the man's form, lightly tickling his skin. After about a chime however, it began its ascent. Moving up the length of his leg onto his thigh, allowing the fingers to wind around coiled muscles as though they were serpents slithering up the side of a tree. Resting against diamond backed patterns. A single brow rose as everything intensified. The beating of the woman's heart. The dilation of her pupils. The bating of her breath as a sizzling sensation coursed beneath the palm of her working hand. "Helping you how precisely, dear brother?" Aislin asked at first, her voice strangely neutral considering the opportunity that lay ahead. Just what they may discuss. "Something in your own order of business? Something which needs to be swept beneath the rug, as it were?" There was a short pause as the woman considered her words. "Which would require, just what sort of payment? As far as your mind has concerned itself?" OOCThat's fine. I totally understand.

[Marcus Ahysen]

The tension between them continued to grow, and Marcus could not deny his desire for the woman. It was strange how quickly he was losing control around her, Marcus usually had better control over his urges. But there was no denying what he felt as her hand made her way up his thigh, Marcus wanted her. But once again his mind snapped back to his mission. It wasn't of his doing, however, but something she had said. She asked about payment. "In miza, of course. What else? You do provide the same service as the other women here, do you not? I merely ask that we talk, first, or after.. and your payment will be reflected in the value of your information." For some reason her presumption that he might pay her in some other form, or perhaps it was how she said it, offended him slightly. Or maybe it was his mind subconsiously recoiling against the magic that was trying to manipulate it. Either way, Marcus was temporarily put on edge without even realizing why. "It's not so much sweeping it under the rug, as lifting it up to find the dirt beneath," he responded. "A woman in your position hears things that others do not. If you have the information I need, you'll be rewarded."

[Aislin]

Aislin smiled wickedly. The edges of her lips cascading into narrow slits cast by the folds of her porcelain skin. "Come brother, let us find a place where we can speak more plainly," the whore whispered as she eased her lips against the man's ear. Her tongue threatening to lick the gentle slope of his lobe as she held bloodied glass away. "Perhaps this blessed tongue will speak the words your ears seem to so greatly desire." Her eyes sparkled as she forced her palm onto the man's nearest hand, and clasped it lightly. Weaving their fingers together and offering a light squeeze as she eased herself onto her feet. Her heels clicking against the tiled floor as wine swished against is glass confines. Come along. Follow me, her hypnotic djed urged as she tugged softly on Marcus' hand. Hoping he'd quickly follow to his feet. Aislin would wait but a tick or two before she sauntered off. Heading for the undulating sweep of violet colored fabric, which cascaded from the ceiling to the brothel's floor. A lustrous veil hung past the edge of the bar, which seemed to shimmer with hints of a woman's body glitter as it rippled softly against playful jostlings. Upon reaching it no more than a chime later, Aislin would pause as she forced a single finger to unravel. Falling away from crystalline stem. A tick later, and she'd extend the hand, using it to pull the curtain back. "Go in," Aislin would instruct, before following closely behind. Allowing the veil to swish silently shut a second later. Keeping them from onlookers view. "Up the stairs," she whispered, as she led the way. Taking them slowly, one at a time. Her heels drumming out a tune by which they could march. Upon reaching the top, she'd pause another moment. Her iced eyes taking a clean sweep of the rooms left ripe for the taking. There wasn't much, the brothel often achieving a busy night, as could be suggested by the pleasured moans reverberating off the cavernous walls. "Right this way," Aislin whispered, as she continued moving to their right, until she happened upon a door left slightly ajar. She nudged it open with the back of her hand, revealing a rather large, rectangularly shaped room. In its center rested a king sized bed, with ends which stretched to the ceiling. Dark wood carvings of slithering serpents trickling up their sides. Encrusted emeralds and rubies serving as eyes. Their mouths sprouting crescent shaped fangs, and forked tongues, from which hung a gossamer lace the shade of ripened peaches. The fabric, clutched at the top of the piece, trickled down the side of its length, and served as simple canopy. Silken sheets of similar hue, but a shade darker, were draped over the down mattress. Fluffed pillows in white linens, which had settled at the far end. On either side of the bed lay dark wood tables. Each circular, no more than a foot and a half in either direction. Twins; from whose edges sprouted four lines, which trickled together and fell into central spire. A curled tendril which stretched to the floor, with simple flourish. Atop the one on the right was a plate of chocolate covered strawberries, and a chilled bottle of wine. The one of the left was largely empty, save for a single tulip, strewn casually over its lacquered sheen. As though in afterthought, or favor to a girl who'd thought little, and easily discarded. At the bed's base was a large wooden chest, clasped at the hinges by golden leaf. Its central point bore a large lock, more for show than anything else, seeing its shackle had been torn from the bar. Resting inside, Aislin knew, having used the room several times before was a plethora of things. Ranging from exotic fans, to feather boas, changes of erotic attire to massage lotions and oils. The occasional bottle of perfume. In the far right corner, was a lounge couch of black leather. Similar to the one she had shared with Marcus not too long before. Above it rested a crystal chandelier, whose shards dangled precariously close to the ground. Sparkling with light's refractions. Flickering flames cast by the red candles which littered the room. Molten wax of several different lengths and hues. "Make yourself at home," Aislin instructed, as she released the Chaon's hand, and closed the door behind them. "Unless you'd like someone else to do that for you," she added with a small smile, as she crossed the room and set her glass down on one of the bedside tables, so as to free herself. OOCSorry this isn't one of my best. Feel free to pm me as well, if anything seems out of hand.

[Marcus Ahysen]

Marcus found the entire situation awkward, and somewhat frustrating. He wasn't used to being led by a woman, save for his mistress in the Black Sun, and in all other instances it was Marcus who gave instructions, not the other way around, and especially not by a whore. But there was something enchanting about the woman, beyond the fact that they were both Chaon. There was something in her voice that made him want her, made him want to throw aside his mission for the time being, forget about the graffiti, and just be with that woman. But his devotion to his mistress and to Rhysol far outshined any charms the woman might use against him. He would find out what he needed to know, and still enjoy the night. Marcus followed the woman through the curtain and into the back. It was a place he had been more than once, though never with such an intriguing specimen as Aislin. The room they entered was not unlike ones he had been in before, and he was pleased to find the strawberries and wine already set out for them. Had she signaled in advance to prepare the room and he just hadn't noticed? Or was this just common place in the room. Marcus followed her instructions as he walked over to the lounge couch, it's black leather a stark contrast to the white he preferred to wear, and made himself comfortable. "And how might you make me feel at home, I wonder?" Marcus was quite willing to find out exactly what she meant by letting someone else make him feel at home. He wouldn't object to letting her pamper him, or whatever else she had in mind. He was going to pay her, after all, and it seemed a waste not to enjoy the full experience. Now that he had her alone, Marcus was in no hurry to complete his mission. He had all night to find out what he needed to know, and he intended to take all night to do it.

[Aislin]

OOCWarning, this thread may be getting a little steamy. Aislin raised a single brow as a wicked grin crossed her lips. Edging dimpled creases into her pale cheeks as smoldering coals widened against a moat of icy water. "That would depend on what you are in the mood for," Aislin called, as she lifted the tray of chocolate colored strawberries from the bedside table and crossed the room. Her hips swaying as her heels clicked against the wooden floors. "Or rather, what would sate your appetite." Her eyes glimmered as she paused in front of him, "strawberry?" she asked as she lifted a single delicacy off the platter by its stem. Slowly, she tilted her head back, rolling her neck between the blades. Her long, raven colored hair cascading down its length as her lips parted and her arm rose. Dangling the fruit over two pale petals, as she extended her tongue and licked the chocolate edge. Causing it to shimmer as thin lines where her buds had once tread remained against the supple curve. Another tick of the clock and she flicked her tongue, driving the red back as she lowered her hand. Her mouth gingerly swallowing the dessert, before chewing the stem away. Removing her hand; placing the leaves and stem at the platter's side as she returned her gaze to the member of the black sun as she finished before closing the gap that rested between them. "All things are best discussed on a stomach not left empty," Aislin whispered as she held the plate out in final offering before setting it beside him on the lounge coach. As soon as her hands had left the cool porcelain, she let them glide over to Marcus, where they settled on his shoulders before rolling down his chest to his pectorals. Holding them lightly as she let her eyes settle on his own. "But perhaps, that is not what you long for, perhaps..." she began as she bent her legs at the knee, and slowly shimmied her way down as her hands fell beside. Ending at the base of his thighs. "Your heart desires something else," she went on as she brought her lips forward. Dangling them just in front of his own, as her hands circled his thighs. Slowly, but firmly. Her fingers furling, forming a crescent across the muscle. Which pinched and slid down his form, building up a greater sense of heat between them. "You seem a man that likes to be in control," she confided, as she slid her hands in, allowing her thumbs to brush the outline of his manhood before sliding back out and down the length of his side, before moving in again. "The head of a situation... on top..." Aislin's smile widened as she swept her hands back in. Willing them to do their work. To make him squirm, and yet, know. Everything he wanted. Everything he needed. "We could have some fun you know," she continued, as her eyes fell to his crotch for a moment, before rising to meet his gaze, "before we set into our hard work." Her lips parted, allowing her tongue to filter through and lick their expanse before receding. Her hands pumping his thighs. Gliding up and down, over and over again. Causing the folds of his pants to ripple beneath her touch. "Relax before we have to give way for whatever stresses the finer people within the city." Again, her lips curled, falling into suggestive grin as she did her best to fill his heart with lust. Her pupils dilating as she kneaded his legs. Wondering what in the world he would want with her, after this. OOCMarcus, if you're not ok with this post just tell me and I can edit.

[Marcus Ahysen]

Marcus closed his eyes as she began to rub him, enjoying the relief of tension her hands brought, as well as the onset of a different type of tension. He shivered when her hands touched that spot, and couldn't help but let out a groan. She was really talking too much, why didn't she just start already? Her talk was confusing him. Part of his mind recoiled at her every word, having caught on to her manipulations but the other part, the part that was in charge of the sensations he was now feeling, that part demanded he proceed. Marcus did like to be in control. He liked power, he liked the power his position gave him, and he liked to exert his power. Aislin was the one in charge, but she seemed to be offering him the chance. In response to her offer of fun he simply leaned back and guided her hands with his to the spot he wanted them most. After a moment he slid off his pants, letting them drop down around his ankles, and after a few more moments of enjoying her dexterous hands he reached for her head, pushing her down onto him. He wasn't forceful, he didn't like the mess too much force caused, but he knew what he wanted her to do and he made her do it. She was just a whore, afterall, and no matter how enticing he found her, he was the one in charge. It wasn't long before Marcus decided it was time to move forward, and with a smile on her face he stood up and gently pushed her toward the bed, giving her a hard yet playful shove when they were close enough that she could fall onto it. Marcus wasn't one to waste time with foreplay, not with women like Aislin anyway, and quickly went to business. Unless she protested for some reason, he would remove her garments and mount her straightaway. He began fast, but after a while he would slow down a bit, trying to extend his pleasure. And it was his pleasure he was after, not hers. Again, perhaps it was the other side of his mind recoiling against the djed she had used on him, but Marcus had no desire to extend things beyond what was necessary for his enjoyment. He did not last particularly long, but it wasn't too quick either. Aislin might take some pleasure from the experience, at least, but it was unlikely that she would experience the height of such pleasure, as Marcus wasn't really trying to get her there. Maybe later, if he decided he wanted a second go, but this one was for him. It wasn't long before he could feel the end coming, and Marcus considered going all the way with the woman. It would feel better that way, but he didn't want to risk her bearing his child. At the last second he withdrew, letting out a grunt mingled with satisfaction and a longing to stay in, expelling his seed onto the bed beneath them rather than within her. Marcus collapsed on top of the woman, his breath heavy, but after a moment he rose again, looking down at her. He leaned in, as if to kiss her on the neck, but instead he whispered in her ear. "Now, sister, you will answer my questions. Even if we must speak until the Dawn comes." He purposely emphasized the word dawn, hoping to gauge her reaction. Was she one of them, did she know of them, or was she just a waste of gold? Well.. maybe not a waste, but if she didn't know what he wanted, then he would have to go find another. OOCSo.. I kind of pushed things along here, I hope you don't mind. I can change anything you want if I took too many liberties. I just have not been able to get into this thread for some reason, and I wanted move things along.