[Flashback] The Artist's Model, ii (ifran and ha'na)

[Ifran]

If his face was any indication, Ifran was amused by all this. Here she was, a free woman attempting the role of a lowly servant or slave, and conforming to that mold with ease, with grace, and with, it would seem, abandon. He opened his mouth to receive the offered sliver of starfruit, even white teeth yawning expectant.

When she proved too demure to feed him, his long neck arched down so he could take the fruit from her hand like some exotic, regal bird. Teasingly, he overshot and gave the tip of her thumb the softest bite before he straightened, pulverizing the fruit with his tongue to swallow rather than chewing like a cow with its cud.

Waiting, watching, he gauged her reaction. The artist's wife was likely correct: here was a woman made for molding. The question was whether the material was worth collecting or if he should leave it for the lesser artist whose home they inhabited.

[Hana]

The smile that curled onto the corner of her mouth told that she was quite pleased with his actions. Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but instead she took in a slow, measured breath when he bit her thumb. It should have been a gasp considering the shocked twinkle in her eyes, but it wasn’t.

Instead she slipped closer to him, picking up another piece of fruit. This time, though, she seemed brave enough to put it to his bottom lip.

[Ifran]

This time, however, he made no 'mistakes'. Nor with the next, or the next. But then, the tip of his tongue made darting contact with the black pad of her finger. The eyes that watched her were impassive as a snake's though the corners of his mouth just might have been upturned, approving of their little game of cat and mouse.

"How long will you work here for this man?" he asked in Common, off-hand, making conversation.

[Hana]

When his tongue touched her skin, it was like the entire world suddenly lit up. She was blinded. She looked little, disoriented, but not displeased. No, not at all. By this time she’d slipped in so close she was basically in his lap. Her hand had slid from his chest up to the back of his neck where it rested. She wasn’t very aware of what she was doing. She didn’t know what to do next or where she was attempting to go with it.

His words snapped her out of the worry of what next. When she spoke, she looked at him directly, unafraid to do so. It was like she still managed to believe she was his equal despite what she was doing.

“I don’t know. As long as he’ll have me, I suppose,” she said hesitantly. “He’ll get bored with me. Though his wife seems to like me. She’s very nice… She’s going to buy me a harp and teach me to play.”

She was too sweet. She had no idea what was planned for her.

[Ifran]

"Receive her training, but do not let her bind you to her. Remember this, Ha'na of the Benshira: everyone in Ahnatep will seek to use you to their own ends."

Though soft-voiced, the words rang with certainty, perfectly enunciated and delivered as if by a master of elocution. Even speaking was singing for Ifran. He kissed her forehead, benevolent except for the burn it left behind. Then he began to manhandle her, one hand at a time until they were back to their original position just in time for the artist to return, apologizing profusely for having been gone so long and for having a meddlesome wife.

[Hana]

Le Fin

[Spavento]

Hana +3 Seduction +2 Modeling +1 Politics Lore: Eypharian Origin Myth (Eypha & Royet) Ifran +3 Seduction +2 Modeling +1 Rhetoric Lore: Eypharian Origin Myth (Eypha & Royet) (Partial) Additional notes: Some of the hotest hexabrachiate erotica ever...maybe the only hexibrachiate erotica ever. I awarded Ifran the lore as well, as it was not yet on your sheet, and should be, given his knowledge of the subject. Keep em coming guys, I really enjoyed that.