Archive | June 27, 2012

Terms of Surrender, a kinkbingo warm-up for @kissofJudas

Jun27

Content warning: Control, Ownership, punishment. No sex, no penetration. Some nudity.

“You’ve seen what they have to offer.”

He hadn’t been there on Hell Night. He hadn’t been there at the dances. She’d barely seen him, until he was standing right behind her. Slight, beardless, beautiful.

“Would you like to know what I have to offer, instead?”

It should have been harder than that to convince her to accept slavery, but she had knelt for his collar with barely a second thought. Some day, some day far later, she might consider the whys and wherefores of this. Today was not that day.

Tonight, he had laid out for her the terms of her surrender. “Every order I give you tonight, you may choose whether or not to accept. Every word I speak to you tonight, until tomorrow morning, except these: you may not leave this room without permission. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Choice hadn’t been part of the deal. She wondered what he was up to.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes…” So this was how it would be. “Yes, Master.”

“Very good. Kneel.”

He’d given her permission to disobey. What happened if she did? “No, Master.”

“No?”

Maybe this hadn’t been a good idea. “No.”

“Last chance.”

“I like standing.”

“Hrrm.” He turned his back on her, opening his closet. “Take your clothes off.”

In for a penny… “No. No, Master.”

“Do you like those clothes, my pet?”

“I’m very fond of them.”

“If you do not take them off yourself, I will remove them, and they will not come off in one piece.” He was holding a long crop and a pair of handcuffs. “Last chance.”

“Yes, Master.” She peeled her clothes off, never taking her eyes off of him. So that was what he meant. She knelt, wondering if it was worth it.

“Ah, but I already told you you’d had your last chance. You look so pretty like that, my pet.”

His orders might not be binding her, but his praise still felt warm, rushing over her fear. “Thank you, Master.”

“Put your hands behind your neck.”

“No, Master.” What was she doing? She frowned, but kept her hands in her lap.

“So you wish to see, is that it?” He was behind her in a heartbeat, muttering Words under his breath and grabbing both her wrists. Then the struggle was on in earnest.

He wasn’t a big man, not really, but he was strong, and she couldn’t kick in this position. In a moment, he had her hands pinned behind her neck, the cuffs slammed on. Tight. Too tight. He hooked the chain between the cuffs to her collar, and pushed her forehead towards her knees.

“I will always give you a choice to obey or not. But there will be consequences for both.” He caressed her back, then cupped her ass with both hands. “Do you understand, my pet?”

“Yes, master.” Her voice was muffled by her knees.

“Very good. Stay down there, pet, and count.”

This time, she obeyed, as the lash landed across her bare back.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/359296.html. You can comment here or there.

Goatless, a story of Steam!Reiassan for the Giraffe Call (@dahob)

Jun27

For [personal profile] imaginaryfiend‘s prompt and @dahob’s prompt

“It’s a prototype, of course.” Diryid ran his hands over the long shafts of his new machine. “And I still believe the river-boat was more practical. Our rivers and canals, after all, are smoother than our roads. But this will go, and if you stack the wood properly in the back by the boiler, and if you keep this little pocket here loaded with the proper fire-aether, it will go nearly as long as my river boat. Which is to say, it will get you easily from city to city in less time than a conventional carriage.”

He tightened a nut and burnished a shining piece of brass, smiling all the time at his audience. Finally, Syadaia cleared her throat.

“But what is it? I thought you were working on a dirigible?”

“Oh, that.” The engineer waved his hand in the air. “That is much easier, although its distance is, at the moment, more limited. We do not have a proper way, yet, to contain the most flammable aether. And wood weighs it down, you see. But it will go.”

They all looked over his head, where he was pointing, but they were in his garage, and there was nothing to be seen. It was Syadaia, youngest of the group, who was delegated by eye contact to ask, again.

“Where is the dirigible? And what is this… thing, Diryid? What does it do?”

“This. This is a goatless carriage. It will go, as I said, from Lannamer to the Arran cities in two-thirds the time it will take a two-goat conveyance. And, unlike that monstrosity your other contractor was working on, it will not blow up. Nor will it eat its passengers.”

“It never…!” Tallgua’s denial was only half-feigned. The “other contractor’s” conveyance hadn’t actually eaten anyone. But he’d been using wild aether. Nobody used wild aether in something that close to people!

“But the dirigible?”

“Dirigible, dirigible.” Diryid stomped his foot. “You will have your damn dirigible. But anyone can design one of those. This… this is my masterpiece, and you all will admire it.”

There seemed nothing to do but make the appropriate noises. They needed that dirigible, if their plans were to succeed. And to have the dirigible, it appeared, they needed… this.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/359150.html. You can comment here or there.

The Goat-Bride, a story of Reiassan pre-history, for the Giraffe call

Jun27

For [personal profile] clare_dragonfly‘s prompt.

Long ago and far away, when the Callanthe people had a different name and roamed far different hills, there lived the woman who was mother to the women and men who would not marry. She was called the Goat-Bride, and in her honor, every year, there are those who stand before the gods and swear their troth to their goats.

They will bear or seed no children, save those born to the festivals. Their home is the goat-pasture and the goat-tent. They stand with the herds when everyone else must stand with their family, and they sleep with their spear and their blade.

They serve as the first to fight and the last to fall, they serve as the spine of the people. There is no shame in standing as Goat-Bride or Goat-Groom. But when the first to do so stood there, the times were different.

Kyerzha stood to one side of Stinky, watching the tribe watch her.

“It’s time.” Daryas was one of the strongest men in the tribe. “The people need babies, to give them strength”

“The people need the goats, to give them feet, to give them wind, to give them food and milk, wool and leather.” She turned her back on Daryas.

“It’s time.” Talgub was one of the cleverest hunters in the tribe. “The children are the future of our tribe.”

“The herd is our future, and its kids, as much as our children. The goats need watching when they come to term; they need guiding when they are ready to be bred” She turned her back on Talgub.

“It’s time.” Puhntozh was the oldest and wisest of the tribe. “Every goat must bend its neck to harness and every tribesmember must bend to responsibility.”

“There are goats we do not ride, but set to stud. There are goats we do not use to pull a plow but instead use for milk. There are those we do not use for wool, but ride them into battle.” She turned her back on Puhntozh.

“You turn your back on your tribe.” Kesaku was her mother, and she was angry.

“I turn my back on the road that leads no-where, to the road that leads somewhere fruitful. That is all.”

And that was all, though it took her family many years to understand.

more here

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/358759.html. You can comment here or there.

Every Gift, a story of Steam!Callenia for the Giraffe Call

Jun27

To fflox‘s prompt

Some time after Road Map

If there was one situation in everyday life where everyone seemed to have a need to get involved it was weddings.

And the problem was, in this case, Katyebah and Larzhal couldn’t find a way to deny any of them.

They were providing the land for their house – not traditional, but when Katyebah and Onton had, with Larzhal’s help, designed a plan to widen Lannamer’s worst traffic intersections, they had necessitated the semi-demolition of several buildings. One of those lots – now holding half of a former Education Bureau facility – had been deeded to Katyebah and Onton for their service.

Onton, in a rare move of complete generosity, had gifted his half to Katyebah and Larzhal as a wedding gift (until then, they hadn’t realized they were getting married, although everyone around them knew it). And the Education Bureau, grateful for the excuse to rebuild, had donated the services of their builder for a week of time.

All that was left were the designs to turn a half a building on a small lot into a full home.

And there, well, everyone had an opinion. Onton, who had given the land, had spent half a day scribbling on plans, adding “improvements.” At least he was an engineer. The happy couple’s parents, who by tradition would have provided the land and the building, had any number of ideas and input, most of which were completely unsuitable.

As the sun set, two days before the builder would arrive, Katyebah and Larzhal stared at the notes, the gifts, and the two pieces of useful input their families had provided.

“Double walls on the windward face.” Larzhal’s uncle Bantas has drawn in the lines with smooth, engineer’s-hand lines. “It’s facing the road, so it will block sound and protect you in the winter.”

“I got an overshipment of these blue tiles. It’s not enough for the whole roof.” Katybah’s aunt Gelah had dropped the cartons with a loud thump. “But you could do some sort of design.”

Katybah’s pencil was wandering, sketching designs suggesting wind and sea. The ancient building had good lines and sturdy walls, those that were left. The double wall would close in the building, and the tiles…

“Block the wind and bless it over with a prayer?” Larzhal smiled. “Always practical.”

“Always using every gift. That’s the tradition, after all.” She leaned against his arms, and considered the turret Onton wanted them to install.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/358516.html. You can comment here or there.

On Giraffes and such

Jun27

I will leave the June Mini-Giraffe Call (LJ) open until 11 EST this morning!

Don’t know anything about Reiassan? The setting spans 1500 years, from a dark-and-gritty war-torn pre-medieval society to a high fantasy setting to a steampunk era. Two warring nations inhabit a continent, the constrained and conservative Bitrani to the south, the warlike goat-herding former nomadic Callenians to the North, warring over territory, religion, and the magic-carrying síra they mine from the earth.

Many aspects of fantasy, steampunk, and Roman-era living are present here, although possibly in different forms than that you’re used to

~

The Linkback Story (LJ) has been updated with most, but not all, of the current linkbacks, donations, and prompts.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/358342.html. You can comment here or there.