In the House of Pleasures, What Have You to Offer? [Aislin]

[Ariadne]

26 Summer, 512AV The sun was slipping behind the horizon in its onerous journey; dusk painting Ravok in rick golden hues, soft pinks and purples. Dusk was Ariadne's favourite time of day, not for any nefarious or angst-ridden reasons. Rather, when the sun set and twilight rolled in, the ambiance lent to Ravok was a more tangible element of the romance the city already breathed. It was beauty and quiet splendor stolen from the last throes of the dying day. Poetically and romantically entwined. It was utterly breathtaking. The city itself was well on its way with the repairs, the storm last season devastating much of Ravok’s boasted splendor. Ariadne still looked too the sky far more often than she used to, afraid that another storm may come out of the blue to rock the city some more. Even as she walked, Ariadne’s soft brown eyes caught words grafted onto the side of a building. The Dawn is Rising, it read. The storm didn’t just destroy and maim Ravok, but it gave extremist cults an opportunity to openly mock the love of a God. In spite of herself, Ariadne found herself questioning Rhysol as well. Where had he been when that storm had hit? Did the people of Ravok mean so little to him? Was he, perhaps, as evil as the Rising Dawn and tourist made him out to be? She had a hard time imagining it, and a year ago would have blatantly laughed at the obscurity of those questions. Now, they were all too feasible. The petite thief shook her head, dispersing that unpleasant train of thought. This was the exact reason she was going to the Immortal House of Pleasures – to have a few glasses of wine and get her mind off such things. She enjoyed the brothel for a multitude of reasons; the interior was exquisitely decorated and tasteful, beautiful men and women scantily clad walked around, waiting to fulfill services. She knew a few of them by sight, others by name. She liked the company the prostitutes offered, and some of the stories they shared. They were interesting people, and she didn’t mind their conversation or their appearances. She turned the corner and found the building she sought, a run-down, unimpressive building practically crying out for a fresh coat of paint and love. Ariadne understood (perhaps more than most) that the outside does not always reflect what’s inside, and without hesitation entered the establishment. Immediately she was treated to a buffet for the eyes. Beautiful men and women peopled the common room, the prostitutes easily discernable by their attire (or there lack of) from the visitors. Cries of pleasure and pain mingled together coming from above, heard over the gentle voices of the patrons and their interests. Ariadne scanned the room with a casual glance, her eyes taking in more fully-clothed individuals. Even off the clock, she couldn’t fully stop herself from looking for potential targets. Instead, the thief crossed the floor to the well-stocked bar, ignoring the gesture from one man who seemed to think she was available. She wasn’t offended, quite the contrary, it was good for her business to be attracted, and among the workers of brothel that was a compliment. Ariadne sat down at the stool and ordered a pitcher of wine. Common, because though she would have enjoyed the taste of the finer wine better, she was looking to get a little intoxicated. Besides, she didn’t want to run out of all her hard earned mizas in one place, did she? She received the pitcher, circled the rim of the cup twice and took an experimental sip from it. It wasn’t terrible, not in the least. It certainly wasn’t the best she had ever had, but it was far from the worse, as well. Wine, Common (pitcher) - 2sm OOCEdited. I gave Ariadne a quirk and then forgot about it in this post. She circles any cup she's about to drink from the first time twice with her finger before drinking.

[Aislin]

Black roses danced between a bed of lace. Petals hanging limply, drooping, as though they bore too much weight. They dripped down Aislin's shoulder, cascading towards her elbow, even though she fought to keep it up. Her former patron's head hung there, dragging her bra's strap down as his fingers clutched at her thighs, threatening to dig into freshly torn flesh. Severances of his making. He wreaked of cheap wine, silver ale, and vomit, and even from afar, she could smell it. Straighten up you big oaf, her hypnotic djed insisted as she fought to keep him standing upright. The man, bearing both sword greater than he, and protruding mound of a belly making it difficult for her not to shake upon simple stiletto heels. Those which matched lacey bra, and thong. Overgrown child. Fool. Walk like a man. Stand like a man. She shook her head, even though you are known to be little more than boy. Unworthy of the title. Her deep blue eyes crept over him. Boring into the unsightly mass. Skin reddened from both drink and the work of her own two hands. Tongue hanging out of his mouth, from which poured an elongated strand of saliva, making him seem all the more a mangy dog. And put your wretched tongue back in your mouth, where it belongs, her magic added, as she inwardly shuddered at the thought as to where it had been. When they had reached the bottom of the stairs, Aislin couldn't help but feel a sense of relief as she pushed him off of her just long enough to ease the undulating sweep of purple fabric away. A curtain, which protected prying eyes from all that happened behind closed doors. "Alright," she whispered sweetly, "m'lord, it is time for you to go home." He stared at her dumbly, his forest green eyes shimmering from behind a thick white film. "But I don't want to," he began. "I want you to do that thing with your hands again..." Inwardly, Aislin vomited. Choking on her disgust, she turned to him. Her right hand coming up slowly; a soft crescent in which all of her fingers braced together. She clutched the base of his neck, half a hand fastened against pulsing veins, the other, tucked against bone. She leaned into him then, as her left hand came to rest on his hip, her right foot settling onto toes. Leg bent at the knee, and smile creasing delicate facial features, she seemed as though she were talking intimately with one of her lovers. Leaning in a little as sparkles leapt into her eyes she whispered, "you won't be coming back tonight. You won't be coming back tomorrow. Or even the day after." There was a pause as her hypnotic djed lay in wait; coiled snakes resting behind the inky obscurity cast by her pupils. Waiting only for the opportune moment to strike. Aislin's mark tingled. At first it was a soft, almost erotic sensation, as though the blade where being kissed repeatedly by deft lips. But soon, within a few beats of her heart, it had grown to a searing intensity. Akin to the moment she was first marked. Her skin felt as though it were being scorched into cinders; at which point it would flake away from molten ivory bone. But it still clung tightly to, making it difficult for her not to wince, for surely, if there was nothing left, she could no longer be subject to such torture. With lips parting throughout the course of the sensation, as though they were two soft petals of her lacy floral attire, the Chaon felt free to speak once more. "You're just not up for it, and you won't be for quite some time. Several days in fact. In which case, you'll seek. Find an unsightly whore. Someone worthy... Of your vile filth, and wretched quivering hands. Shriveling skin; rippling unpleasantly over port belly. Aislin smiled wickedly as she pulled her hands away, returning them to her sides as she straightened her body out. "Good bye m'lord. I hope you enjoyed your stay, found the pleasure you so desired," she added as she waved her hand towards the door. Please see yourself out, her hypnotic djed added as her heart began to hammer in her chest. It was but another breadth that she remained, before heading over to the bar, hoping one of the patrons sitting there would treat her to a drink, so she could forget the horrors of a day's work. Luckily for her, Rhysol seemed only too happy to oblige, providing her with a woman of smaller stature, lighter hair, but darker, alluring eyes. It was only natural then, for Aislin to take a seat beside her as she straightened out her bra's strap. "Are you in need of some company?" she asked, despite her having already made herself comfortable. "The lounge area can be a bit stuffy. Suppose it's the lack of drink?" The voider chuckled. "Or perhaps, that here not a single man lies in wait, wondering when yet another delicacy will be plopped between their lecherous lips?" OOCThat's quite alright, and I hope I did that correctly. Also, anything in italics is hypnotism stuff, and if it's not in quotations. Simply sent in thought. P.S. I apologize for this post being a bit... vulgar.

[Ariadne]

In the House of Immortal Pleasures one is not without company for long. It was their livelihood to engage the patrons, to seduce and entice their customers into spending their mizas here. How each courtesan achieved this was the real prize, as every one of them had their own method. Their own tricks and sly secrets to win over their prizes. Ariadne liked to watch the prostitutes at this game of cat and mouse, liked to learn as they caressed and charmed another patron into their beds. On occasion she found herself the object of such a game, and had even posed a challenge to one or two when she turned the tables. She never followed them to the rooms above, however. It was the game that mattered to her, not the sex that came afterwards. Besides, when did she ever have to pay for such carnal activities? So the little thief wasn’t surprised when she sensed a presence settle into the seat beside her. Ariadne looked over to find a raven hair beauty looking at her, clad in only the barest undergarments to hide her modesty – though all they seemed to do was emphasis her nudity. She had penetrating eyes a hypnotizing shade of blue, a petite nose and full pouty lips. Ariadne let her gaze linger on the woman’s form before answering, her lips curving slightly in a self-satisfied smirk. “As you’ve already made yourself quite comfortable, it would be improper to turn down such an offer now.” She replied, though the tone of her voice suggested that she was enjoying the view. Ariadne leaned towards the woman just the tiniest bit and straightened the twist in her bra strap for her, the thief’s dark eyes smoldering as her finger gently kissed soft flesh and laid the strap flat again. As the woman spoke Ariadne lifted a cool eyebrow and her smile grew. Oh, she liked this one. Ariadne gestured to the bartender for another pitcher – this one for the prostitute who so graced her with conversation. “Well you know what they say – it’s the people who make a room.” A wicked smile sudden appeared. “I’m certain that between you and I we can liven up this place some.” The thief watched as the pitcher of wine slide on the bar to the woman beside her. Ariadne inclined her head a fraction in way of appreciation for the bartender and returned to her conversation with the woman. “Not all men are the same.” She said, losing some of her playful mannerisms with the comment. Her eyes unfocused for a moment –“what a sobering thought” – before she regained her witty attitude. “Though there is something to be said of the tenacity they exhibit when they truly desire something. I suppose you would know that, however. You must have many men clamor for your attentions. You have an…” Ariadne looked at the other woman’s body again. “Alluring presence about you. Though the lack of clothing helps some, I’m sure.” She winked, the action somehow both innocent and cutting. Ariadne crossed her slender legs, her body language conveying an interest in the woman beside her. Covertly her eyes scanned the room and she watched as a scantily clad man lead another man up the stairs. She came for the game, but watched the unknowing participates as often as possible, both those she spoke to and those who moved around the room in graceful, measured steps. Much in the same fashion that some animals catch their prey; bewitchingly beautiful and hypnotizing while living off their customers. She could learn a lot from whores. “I’ve seen you around here on occasion, though not as often as I would have liked.” She said with a ghost of a smile one her lips. Black curtains draped the wall behind the woman, framing her in darkness. Her skin was nearly luminous next to the black-on-black effect. Ariadne admired the sight before focusing on conversation again. “And not all lustful lips belong to men, I assure you. Perhaps I say too much, though. My name is Ariadne,” she said in way of greeting properly. “I hope I’m not too forward with you. I’m so rarely privileged with the company of women that I forget myself.” OOCOkay, firstly I'd like to say that I have no problem with vulgar. Secondly, I'm sorry for the delay, and I'm also sorry that my post is flat. I'm strapped for time and I don't think I'll be able to post again this coming weekend (though I will try.) Thirdly, apparently Ariadne is between flirting with Aislin and challenging her. xD

[Aislin]

Aislin smiled pleasantly as she pulled the pitcher of wine offered, and a glass proffered from behind the bar. She lifted the pitcher, hand bracing behind the rung as she tipped it over. Glass clinking against glass as red the color of garnets spilled into the container. Halting only when hand pulled away, leaving the chalice half full. "Thank you for the wine," Aislin whispered, as she cupped her glass, shaking it a little. Forming a bloody whirlpool which sloshed up the sides of their container, before settling down for the night. Finally, she lifted it to her lips and took a small sip, allowing the tannins to settle behind her lower lip a moment before she dragged them over her tongue with the help of her teeth. They tasted gritty; earthly, suggesting it was of lower make. "If you only knew how often whores need to inebriate themselves in order to get through some of their days," she added with a slight roll of the eyes as she took another sip before setting the glass down on the counter. It chinked softly a moment as though invisible shards of ice were clattering against the sides. She eyed the surface warily, as fingers lazily trailed up the stem of her tulip. "Perhaps they're not," Aislin agreed with a subtle nod of her head. "But at the end of the day, everything they do boils down to want of three things- sex, money, and power. Of course, the sensible ones chase women; try to seduce and woo them into their beds, despite such things being the art of a woman, and not of a man. For you see, that is the trade off in their being, generally, the stronger of the sexes. We're far more alluring, as you yourself have called me, and they're... more capable of protecting themselves, should we allow their guard to remain up. Among other things..." A shimmer leapt into Aislin's eyes as she tossed her head back and smiled. Raven colored hair cascading down the length of her back as a deep laugh which caused her breast to tremble, escaped her parted lips. Pouting petals, which only slowly, snapped back into place. Guarding the stamen. "Of course, there are those wise enough to realize this. Those who come to a point where they merely watch two woman go at it," Aislin wore on. "Of course, just with anything else relating to carnal pleasure, I and every other whore within the brothel have plenty of experience with that." She paused a moment as she turned to face Ariadne head on. Her eyes dancing over her form, taking every curve in. The beauty that lingered in her eyes. After a moment's speculation, her right hand came forward. Fingers splayed as her palm settled onto the woman's closest knee. She rubbed it thoughtfully, her fingers just beginning to trail into calf and thigh on the rounds, but never truly going out of bounds as she built up a slight head. "But do you want to know a secret?" she asked, before taking the time to await an answer, as she leaned in so as to whisper in the other woman's ears. "While the clothes do help, it's not even that which gets everyone going. It's the thought of what one can do to another as soon as the rest comes off. Don't you think?" she asked, as her hand continued to circle, and her tongue parted her lips. Curling as it flicked out, gingerly running from the farthest part of Ariadne's lobe in. At which point, Aislin allowed it to fall back as she pulled herself away. Not sure as to how well she had been received, Aislin took a break from the seductive arts to nurse her glass of wine. After the consumption of but a few drops, she put her glass down again, but allowed her fingers to dance idly about the rim. "It is a shame, isn't it? Considering how beautiful we both are. How deeply erotic our coupling could be." Her eyes grazed over any exposed portions of Ariadne's skin. Drinking everything in; and with each motion, she felt all the more intoxicated. Her heart fluttering in her chest, as though it were a newly born butterfly, just beginning to understand how to use its wings. Her hand circling more than the girl's knee now, she couldn't help but look down at it. Icy eyes dropping to her fingers, "no they're definitely not the only ones Ariadne. Not when there are woman like you and I." She smiled wickedly then, as in as sultry a fashion as she could muster, she allowed her eyes to come back up. Her lashes to ripple pleasantly as that which had been fanned settled on rose colored lips. It was then that Aislin could truly begin to feel the sense of hunger within her. Longing, and perhaps a little hope that this woman would choose to share the night with her. It was thusly that she chose to lean in again, but not as closely as before. "Would you like to kiss a complete stranger Ariadne? One you know only as the woman Aislin?" she asked. Her eyes searching the patron's for any sign that may hint at her answer. OOCIt's quite alright. Take your time. I'm in no real rush.

[Ariadne]

Ariadne drew delicately from her cup, the wine hitting her mouth in a rush of flavour. She closed her eyes as she drank and let the wine swirl around tongue and mouth, the corner of her lips turning up as she drank. Wine was one of the few pleasures she indulged purely to enjoy it - though the common brew was a little below her taste palate. Even so, she could detect some of the elements in the poorer wine too - the earthy taste, the strong taste of vinegar, the sharpness of the wine. Even cheap wine would serve to quell the growing ache within. At the words of the prostitute’s gratitude Ariadne gently clicked her glass to the other woman’s, a soft chime rising from the contact. She took another drink, her lips wrapping around the rim, parting slightly to let the glass slip past the silk curtain. She replaced her cup on the counter, every movement measured and controlled; graceful. Her smile grew, and as the beauteous smirk became more evident there was a slight twist of self-mockery to it. "I saw the man you came down with... He left much to be desired. I would be rather fond of drink as well, if I daily had to take such men to my bed," she replied, a slender finger circling the rim of her glass. Ariadne sometimes used sex to get closer to a target, and almost always exploited the assets of her gender to distract and entice men (and some women). And while her hands roamed their bodies (perhaps with her own pressed close to theirs so they could feel the heat radiating from her) and her mouth close to ear or neck or lips… should deft finger so happen to find errant coins… well could she be blamed for collecting them? In her own way she understood (perhaps better than most) what it was to peddle flesh for money and the inevitable toll it would take. The thief tilted her head towards the woman, a pensive expression enhancing the innocent aspect of her appearance more so than usual. "Is it so wrong to desire such things? The sensible man will pursue women, true. The thoughtful man will pursue money, and once that is achieved the others will fall into his hands. Wealth will always be accompanied by power and, consequentially, sex. A man can forgo the charade of wooing and come here to buy a beautiful girl for an hour or two. In a way brothels reflect life - that is why they are so successful. They sell sex and the illusion of desire, but outside these walls there are women who do the same, all the while claiming their virtues." She took another mouthful from her glass, the red liquid igniting as the traveled down, a warmth spread through her chest. "Women seek wealth like flies to shit; they’re just a lot more devious about it. They’ll have sex with the wealthy on the off chance that they will taste some of it themselves.” The thief ran fingers through her hair, turning her warm brown eyes to meet the woman’s beautiful blues. “The world is full of whores; yours is just the most honest kind." She laughed deep in her throat, a genuine sound emerging from Ariadne. “The age-old question; who is better at the game of seduction? We are more equipped to win that game, it is true. But there’s something so thrilling about transcending boundaries, pushing the barrier between what’s the norm and what’s...” she gently brushed some hair from the woman’s face, her fingers trailing against the pale flash of jawbone. “Exotic.” Abruptly her face lost some of its warmth, like a frigid chill in the midst of summer. Her smile faltered a fraction and she withdrew slightly. “The men and women of this brothel can offer much, I am sure. You understand, however, that I’m not in the habit of spending money on something I can acquire for free. Neither you nor your friends have sold me on changing that fundamental principle yet.” Ariadne lowered her eyes, long black lashes sweeping out to brush sun kissed cheeks only partly flushed from the wine. Like a sliver of moonlight upon her dark pants rested the woman’s hand, spreading warmth through her body with exploring fingers that teased, at once both soothing and tantalizing. In spite of herself, Ariadne felt the first stirrings of lust inside, succumbing to touch and voice and drink. So use to being the cat, it was dizzying to be the mouse - though she had to admit to a certain thrill. She was so accustomed to playing the game on her terms it was interesting to be on the receiving end. Interesting and intoxicating. And the prostitute was right about one thing; who else would be so well versed in bedroom sports than those who made it their jobs? It was an interesting notion to consider, but Ariadne was rarely a slave to those passions, and she was not one to spend money on whores. Of any variety. Still, the thief did not move as the woman leaned closer, her tongue emerging to gently run along her ear. Ariadne suppressed a slight shiver as lightning sparked down her spine to settle low in her body, stomach muscles slightly clenched and a light pebbling of goose bumps running up her arms and legs. Ears were androgynous zones – that was something she learned some time ago – but feeling its effect on her was deliciously satisfying. “I’m curious,” Ariadne started in a voice barely above a whisper. “To know what it is you’re more interested in. The things you want to do to me,” she looked over now, meeting the woman’s eyes once more. Inside the brown irises lust swam in the depths; a hunger that never seemed quite fed. “Or the things I want to do to you.” Ariadne’s eyes scanned the other woman’s face, considering. Oh, there was no doubt that throwing caution to the wind and surrendering to her passions with this woman would be deeply erotic, among other things. She stilled the impulse to again touch the woman, light caressed promises denied to both of them. An ache inside coiled tight and low in her stomach, the sensation maddening and demanding. Ariadne said nothing at first, instead retrieving her wine from the counter and drawing from the glass its bloody colour. With the glass still in one hand Ariadne leaned towards the woman – Aislin – bringing her lips close enough to nearly brush Aislin’s pretty pout. “I don’t often kiss…” She said in a breathy whisper, “lips, anyways.” As if to make her point Ariadne gently grasped Aislin’s jaw in her hand and tilted the other woman’s face away. She lowered her mouth to brush warm, wet lips between the junctions of her neck just under her jaw. Ariadne left a soft trail of kisses as she travelled up to the prostitute’s ear. “Though I may bend the rules for you…” She whispered, her hot breath stirring the raven coloured hair. Her free hand released Aislin’s jaw and trailed along the soft flesh of her neck to tangle fingers in the mass of dark hair. Ariadne suddenly pulled the hair, forcing Aislin’s head up, making the skin of her neck taunt. “Strangers are dangerous." Ariadne continued, lips still pressed against the other woman’s flesh, lust making her voice thick. She raked her teeth along the skin and bit down, hard enough to mingle pain and pleasure together. “How do you know I’ll be gentle, love?” She asked and moved away from Aislin’s neck to look the prostitute in the eye, though she made no move to release her hold on the woman’s hair. “But maybe that’s what you want…”

[Aislin]

Aislin's eyes danced over Ariadne's features with ease. Taking note of the glimmer reflected within darker iris. "That's an easy one," the whore whispered. "I already know what I intend on doing to you, should you welcome yourself into shared bed. Which leaves me all the more curious on the second matter: what do you intend on doing to the one who sits before you? Offering herself completely?" There was a slight pause as though considering the question herself, or if she should say more. "Caress, cuddle, kiss, or ravage in full?" Again she paused as she took a moment to lift her own glass to her lips. A smile spread across them as her eyes sank onto rippling red inching closer and closer to glossed petals. Parting just enough to reveal soft pink stamen, which halfheartedly supped on grape's nectar. A breadth later, and the glass was clattering softly against the bar. Her rested fingers kneading Ariadne's skin as easily as a baker would a loaf of bread. With other hand, fingers lazily circled glassy bed as lips came closer. Dangling dangerously close. "Or something else?" Aislin whispered, as she kept her eyes fixated on potential client. But not for long. Raptor's talons clawed at supple curve of lower lip and chin. Nails raking against paling skin, while undersides reddened with overexposure to another's intensity. Followed by sweet tingling sensations. The delicate brush of lips which flowed into unlikely canals. It was enough to cause Aislin's fingers to clench and then release. Repeatedly digging before burrowing back out of tanned hide. "Oh?" was all she managed to whisper before Ariadne changed her tactic, bracing the woman by her hair as opposed to the supple sweep of neck coupled with her jaw. She could feel the woman's crowns falling down her flesh, clamping between swan's dive and soft curvature cast by her shoulder before their eyes met once more. "Strangers are dangerous," Aislin whispered as she leaned into Ariadne a little more. Her spare hand falling to the other knee, fingers circling it lazily a moment, before both hands were forced to start crawling up and down the length of her thighs repeatedly. Building up a sense of heat. "You never know just who you are going to find. Just what you're going to get." Aislin fell silent a moment, as her eyes sank below the surface. Considering whether or not to use everything at her disposal now, or wait until things came to be a little more, interesting... "There is no way for any to know if you'll be gentle, the first time they use you, as much as you do them," Aislin wore on as she tugged on Ariadne. Her fingers cupping her flesh tightly, willing her into more intimate position before releasing the stronger hold. Resuming what had only come before. A ginger rub meant to bring anyone to their knees, so why wasn't she there yet? Inwardly sighing as her pupils dilated, Aislin decided that she would work a little harder. "But that is no matter. Not everyone longs for a gentle lover. Some like it rough; claiming that it's more passionate in that fashion." There was a slight pause as the voider leaned in a little more. Parted her lips, and extended her tongue, partially. Drawing it slowly over the length of Ariadne's plump lower, as though preparing her for another kiss. The motion lasted no more than two ticks, bringing Aislin to reel her muscle in. To hide it behind ivory gateway as she awaited another response. As her hands clenched around warming thighs. Strengthening the heat as they drew up and down. "Some like a bit of both," she went on with a chuckle. "Most say that is what suits them most. But, it doesn't seem as though such could be said of you." Aislin smiled wickedly as she licked her lips. "No. You like it rough," she confided, as her hypnotic djed wove its way into her words. "So you shall have it. Scratches. Split skin. More fervent thrusts of fingers... among other things..." Her hands furled then. Forming paws with elongated nails; Aislin began to scratch the woman's legs. "Lets see if you can take it," she whispered as her hands climbed up the woman's sides, and she came to her feet. Lips hovering mere inches away from Ariadne's own. Lets close the gap. Her body inched closer and closer, shoulders rounding as coiled muscles rippled beneath a bed of flesh. While leaning into her hands, which had come to a halt at the center of the thief's thighs, Aislin ended the distance. Pressed her lips forcibly against Ariadne's as her eyes closed once more. As her lips molded against the girl's she remained relatively still. Hands barely stroking until her tongue slid between her own. Licked the center of the girl's before trying to squirm past, and wrestle whatever lay on the other side to the ground.

[Ariadne]

Ariadne returned her glass to the bar as Aislin’s hands drove like spiders on her thighs, caressing and teasing, kindling a fire inside. Ariadne closed her eyes against the sensation, the warmth pooling at the juncture of her thighs and quivering up into her back. Tension grew inside; a building virulent storm that demanded release, and soon. She felt her leg pulsing with the mounting heat created by Aislin’s teasing hands. The woman spoke, but Ariadne ignored her, concentrating more on her voice than her words. With eyes still closed she sensed Aislin closing the distance, her warm body so near it was excruciating not to touch, though Ariadne now made a point not to. She could draw out her wants to a nearly painful point, but it made the rewards all the more delectable, all the more delicious. Warm and moist she felt something run along her bottom lip, suggesting that and more to come somehow in that simple stroke. It left her lips tingling and spreading, her response to open dark eyes and ravage the one so teasing her. Ariadne did open her eyes, but she made no other move rather than to respond verbally. Her head swirled with imagines of what she would do – could do- to Aislin, and her mind so laden with lustful thoughts she had to surge through them to think back on what the prostitute said. Rough? Ariadne wanted to hear this woman scream. She looked into the woman’s eyes, taking again by the terrible, piercing beauty of them. “Trust me, love. I have a high pain tolerance.” She breathed, and there was nothing gentle in her voice; rather the evidence of a challenge issued – think you can hurt me? Fingernails bit into her legs, and Ariadne gasped, the pain merging with the growing tension in an exotic and exhilarating way. Red blouse was pulled tightly across erect pink tips, and she barely had time to catch a breath before the whore’s mouth was pressed firmly against hers, tongue probing for entry. Ariadne opened her mouth under Aislin’s as she closed her eyes, meeting the taller woman’s ferocity with her own. Her mouth moved in perfect sync with the prostitute, muscles pulled taunt and tight. Their tongues writhed together, wet entities given life by passions unhindered, meeting in a surge of ecstasy. Ariadne shivered with pleasure, hands now given freedom to explore valleys and mountains, sliding over soft skin gently, so at odds with the force of her answering kiss. Up and over the pleasant curve of breast to circle around back, feather-light caresses trailing down the spine to settling in the arch of Aislin’s back, and only then did Ariadne apply pressure and opened her hand fully, drawing circular motions with her warm palm against flesh. Her other hand was preoccupied with something soft and heavy inside the bra, running her thumb over the sensitive tip until she felt it respond. All at once Ariadne drew back, removing her hands from soft, tempting flesh. She drew their kiss to a close, but not before her teeth caught Aislin’s pouting lip and bit. She was not gentle, but she didn’t feel like she needed to be with this woman. With her cheeks stained red Ariadne pushed on Aislin’s shoulders, gentle but firm. She was not one for open affections – of any kind, whether bought or genuine. And that was the line there – Aislin had targeted Ariadne as a sale. And Ryhsol be damned, but it was working. Even now something feral and hungry roiled just below the surface of her self-control, aching to be freed. In truth Ariadne was held back by one looming cloud, else she would have willingly spent the money to have her way with the whore. She had already spent enough shopping for supplies to feel the weight of financial concern weighing on her. “How much?” She asked, retrieving her glass to sample the contents within and bask in the warmth of alcohol. OOCThink we'll get a slap on the wrist for this? xD FYI: If at any point I make you feel uncomfortable feel free to call me down. I can get rather carried away, lol.

[Aislin]

Aislin allowed her lips to release, furled petals parting to reveal crystallized stamen. Icy shards peered into darker eyes as Ariadne pulled away. Had she not liked it? the whore wondered, as her eyes danced over the thief's form. As though expecting the answer to be hidden somewhere within the depths of the folds; or perhaps, the dark reflections of her own gaze. Her thoughts to be lost when she was drawn away by crisp questioning. "For what?" Aislin finally asked as her hands slid down the woman's thighs, to a rest on her knees. "Cheap wine and a kiss?" she inquired, as her right brow rose into a high arch, mirroring the shape of an archer's bow. "Or merely one or the other?" There was a pause, as though allowing the woman to consider. "Or are you referring to the full services of a whore?" she asked. "For it all depends. The wine you've been nursing is two silver mizas a pitcher, and the cost of being serviced by one of the men or women of this brothel is dependent upon the amount of time you spend in their company. In the throws of pleasure." Aislin smiled wickedly as her hands began to knead the woman's knees and her brow fell back into place. "A bell will cost you two gold rimmed mizas, and one of our marathons is eight. But that's five hours in which to ravish, and be ravished. To learn the true meaning of ecstasy." Aislin's eyes sparkled as her hands continued to slide up and down, and she began to rock on her feet. Her lower half swaying; easing into her hips as though she had yet another proposition on her mind. But it was being caught by her lips. You know you want to, the magic urged as the dance stopped, and her feet remained planted firmly in one place. Confined by single white marble tile. You wish to go on all night long, the hypnotic weavings continued. Silken threads trailing down the length of Aislin's arms and onto Ariadne's form, where they crawled over her skin before binding her to ornamental chair. You want to give in. You want to be pleased. Aislin's behind wiggled as she licked her lips suggestively, whetting glossed lips enough to make them truly glisten in the false light cast by the establishment's fixtures. You wish to satisfy. The webs trickled over the lithe forms, until they reached the face. Prying eyes open, so that Ariadne could truly see. Perhaps take note of dilated pupils, or the intensity in the hypnotist's eyes as she continued to manipulate her. Try to seize control of a dying night. An unlikely sell. You wish to match the whores. To mirror them. Give your partner everything they give you, the magic insisted as Aislin furled her hands. Digging her nails in a little harder as she refused to cease repetitive motion. Heat beneath her hands rising to a boil; skin blistering with magic she fought not to weave. Her mind, unable to sate heart's appetite pressing against its outer wrinkles. Suggesting she rein herself in; lest she overdo it and lose all remnants of her control. Her very composure. And then some. There was a pause. You wish to give them so much more. So take your pick. You already know whom you want. So just take her. Ask that I share your bed. The voider's heart thundered in her chest. Drumming out a beat by which her magic could travel. Weave itself into her mind; words suggested under breath. Heard, but never spoken. Spend the night with me. You know you want to. You know you need to. That there is nothing to regret. The magic halted, pulsating beside the two women. Waiting for another opportune moment to strike. To finish the thief off. Take me into your arms. Then let me lead you upstairs. You will be pleased. Again the magic paused before instilling one final feeling: lust. "So what will it be?" Aislin asked, her voice little more than a whisper. OOCIt's totally fine. I figured most of her threads would be a bit edgy considering her profession. Also, we shouldn't. Although, we should post a warning if it gets any steamier. It's just a common courtesy, I suppose.

[Ariadne]

Intensity sparked her normally warm brown eyes until they were aflame, desires left unspoken whimpering to be answered. Ariadne met the whore's blue eyes, conflicted with herself. The thief had a tendency to indulge in her simple pleasures (though something suggested that there would be nothing simple in this), but something inside cautioned patience, to bid her time. That small part of her was being quickly drowned by the growing need inside of her. Despite the lust coiling in her body and mind, she had the sneaking feeling that she was somehow being manipulated. She didn't normally respond so... immediately... to people, at least not with passion. Sex had always been a tool to use for her advantage and it wasn't too often Ariadne found herself on the other side. Not that she minded. And wasn't it expected that a whore would know the proper triggers to have someone practically begging? Of course she was being manipulated - it was the woman's job to sell her skills, to promise delights never before explored and appetites never known. And her hands felt so good, generating more warmth to spiral up and pool between her legs. How long could she really hold out? Why should she? Wasn't there something to be gleamed from every experience? Oh yes, yes thrice over. "Well, yes," she said, her own voice turned husky. "I was referring to that. I don't imagine you spoke to me for my company." She stated, her eyebrow quirked in an amused little arch as if to say 'look at all that we've done'. But even as she listened and couldn't deny the that the idea of five hours alone was more than appealing. And really, what was money compared to knowledge? Compared to hours spent in the threshold of pain and pleasure? Compared to the ecstasy that flourished and consumed all thought and sense of being, to fully embrace bliss? She had no doubt, for some reason, that this woman could provide all of that and more. Ariadne supped from her glass once more, the wine warming her as it traveled down. She refilled her glass, and nearly as an afterthought topped Aislin's off. She had made a decision then - there was without a doubt in the thief mind that she would take Aislin to her bed (or rather be taken to her bed). She leaned in closer to Aislin, close enough so that their mouths were merely inches apart, her head tilted as if steal another kiss. "We're in the Immortal House of Pleasures, Aislin. What is it that you can do for me that the other men and women here can't?" She knew - or at least had an idea - what this woman could do, but she wanted to hear it from her luscious lips. Everything had faded; the people in the room, the decoration, the noise. It came down to Ariadne and Aislin. "What's your specialty?" OOCWOW! I am so sorry for the ridiculous delay! Ugh. Also sorry about the shorter-than-normal post.

[Aislin]

Iced eyes trailed after flourished fingers; a subtle flick of the wrist as filed nails encircled transparent stem. Leafless glass encasing glistening petals, sparkling with the coupling of flickering light's refraction and blood red liquid, circling silently in the depths of crafted pit. The whore watched the lazed whirlpool as sparkling liquid cascaded out of larger basin, bubbling as it crashed through stilled levels which steadily rose to the brim. Threatening to overturn the hand of its maker. Aislin smiled weakly as container twisted, a faucet drawn tight so there was naught a drip, until it was pulled over remnants, and given clearance to flow once more. Crimson danced in the smoldering coals of her eyes, as liquified grape in tannin hides pounded against the edges of their confinement. Willing to billow without restraint around ankles grown bear with excessive caress of limbs grown deft with culturing and general practice. The bloodied waterfall seemed to dry up far too soon for the lady's liking, who instantly, returned her eyes to the browning, parched soil underneath. Beseeching obsidian base to cease its fiery blaze of sun's catchings, which furthered earthen scorch. "Thank you," Aislin whispered as her hands continued to circle the thief's skin. Intensifying the heat which lingered just below the surface. The sense of lust left unsated, unanswered, by the body of another willing being. A single brow raised as Ariadne posed her final question. Icy shards melting into clearer waters, churning with the sea's tumultuous nature. A bitter rage after having been licked by clouds of wispy grey. Battered by the hands of their wavering tongues of flashing white and yellow illuminations. "Dear stranger, perhaps the question best asked, is what they could give you which I cannot," the whore began, her tone playful as her right shoulder dipped, allowing her body to fall into it, as her head rolled onto the rise in ivory colored bone. Raven colored hair trickling down her back a moment before she righted herself and her fingers began to linger. Taking longer to trail up and down the length of the woman's lithe thigh. "You see, dear stranger, some of them are afflicted. Cast with the illness found only among our kind, and some of those who take us." She smiled wickedly, "you know the sort. It begins with an itch you can't sweat out. One no amount of scratching can rid from your skin, even when tips begin to force a reddening, and then eventual peel. As though it were no more than a rind off an orange." Pale pink petals furled, hardening the lines of lips glossed by simple sticks. "The kind which ends with reddened welts and splits in the skin." For a moment after that, Aislin fell silent, allowing Ariadne to catch the full meaning in her words. The weight of them. "But as for what you asked, for it would be rude not to offer an answer, no matter how slight or small..." The whore's voice trailed off for a moment, as her eyes adopted a far off look. "Suffice it to say that my tongue knows far more tricks than the best trained dog," Aislin finished, a fire in her eyes. "And although the other men and women here can be quite talented with theirs, they know naught what I do. Or so the usuals have told." With that, the whore's eyes fell to her hands. The way she kneaded the woman's skin, allowed her nails to drag just enough to tickle at times, before lightening the weight she put into them. The way she dug into skin. "So what will it be?" Aislin asked. "Care to spend the night in the house of pleasure?" The whore's eyes had come back. They were fixated on Ariadne's own. Say yes. You know you want to. This is what you wish. OOCIt's totally fine. I will be away for part of next week, so I may not be posting much, if at all. So feel free to take your time.