Archive | January 2013

Need two more votes

My poll got a be derailed by my bad-phrasing on the first poll, and I can’t continue with a tie! (can’t go two directions at once…)

So I shall sweetly ask – please, may I have two more votes? – and try not to do this too often.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/447565.html. You can comment here or there.

The ClockWork Collar, or The Princess of Al-ben, a kink-bingo mini-story in 25 parts. Poll 3, try 2

Previous: In Public (LJ)
No DW account? Vote in the comments.

Explanation: This morning’s poll was sort of unclear, so I decided to try again with a slightly more clear set of options. Like your first vote? Let me know.

“You’ve been a good girl today.” And it had been a long, exposed day out on the town. Now, how shall we set ourselves up?”

Set themselves up?

“Where you wish, Master.” Stavanna was too tired for more than that.

“Hrrm.” He pretended to think about it. “Then the castle.”

Next: Into the Castle (LJ)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/447470.html. You can comment here or there.

The Light World and its Shadows

For [personal profile] ysabetwordsmith‘s commissioned continuation of Day Twin, Night Twin, after The Dark and Light Mirror.

This really needs at least 500 words more, perhaps 1000, and it would be, like, a real story.

Life in the dark was everything Ella had imagined it would be, everything the stories had told, and all of that times a thousand.

It was darker, for one. The daylight people had no concept of true darkness, true night. Their stories spoke of the shadows, the echos, the hidden places. Their stories told of a little bit of mischief, like boggins and boggarts. People who dogged their steps and put salt in their coffee, soured their milk and sometimes made easily-foil-able plots.

And maybe that was the nature of the Evil Twins. But those who never crossed over, and the land in which the sinister-born lived… that was another story altogether.

That was a story of night time, where the sun shone through only in cracks. It was a story of trouble, where goodness-to-your-fellow-beings was not a watchword but a way to get mugged. It was a story of caution, of being the strongest of the strong or the canniest of the canny.

And Ava’s foster mother was all of those things.

In her own land, she wasn’t the bumbling, easily-fooled twin that she’d seemed in the daylight. In her own shadows, she wasn’t a sketch of a boogeyman; she was the boogeyman. She was the darkness. She was, Ella found, more than a little bit terrifying.

At first, Ella thought she had been caught. “Ava!” her foster-mother shouted when she returned home, home that was an echo, a mirror, a dark-shadow of the home she’d just left. “Ava, where the hell have you been?”

“I’ve been out.” She was used to being rebellious, being snotty. She was not used to having her mother – her foster-mother, though they looked just the same – be snotty right back. “Well, isn’t that good. Come here and help me with this bomb.”

“This what?” Ella’s heart jumped. She was in the right place, all right.

Life in the dayside was so much brighter than Ava had ever imagined. It was cleaner, for one. Cleaner and sweeter, and everyone wore such lovely things, as if they were in an ancient, forbidden fairy tale, and everyone spoke so very kindly and politely. Nobody turned up their nose at her. Nobody shook their head at her pretty white dress, nobody tried to get it messy.

The nighttime people had no idea how much smoother things could go if they were only nice to each other. She smiled and nodded and tried out her pleases and thank yous, and found that they were fun to say, when people said back to you.

It was so sweet. She’d heard a rumor, here and there, of the things the Evil Twins saw. They thought the daylight was foolish, born to be taunted and bothered, born to have every step that they took dogged by the mischief of the dark. They thought that only their little petty troubles kept the world stable.

And maybe that was true of the Good Twins. Maybe that was the nature of the those that had a bit of evil in them. But those who never came near the dark, and in the land where the daylight thrived… that was another story altogether.

And it was a story Ava was born to be the star of. She threw back her head and laughed, and laughed, and laughed. She had come into her own… and she was going to rule it.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/446985.html. You can comment here or there.

Dream House, House I have

So, I have a pinterest.

And I’ve been putting a lot of house ideas on there.

That, and talking to friends talking about their dream houses, leads me to thinking about that dichotomy.

So, over here, we have ~~the ideal house~~ Mine is a 2-story-with-attic in a style common around here which so far I’ve been unable to put a name to, with 3 bedrooms and a closet office, a wide, open kitchen, and a lot of light.

And over here, we have the house I own. It’s a short squat farmhouse that currently has very bare walls – unpainted drywall in one room, bare “studs” in another- bad linoleum, and strange room shapes (It does have, technically, 3 bedrooms and a closet office).

Of course, the advantage of the house I own is that it’s mine. And I’ve been working on thinking about Dream House that way – not about the house I might have some day, but about what I can do to my current house to make it My House.

(First step, as soon as we can afford it, is obviously getting someone in to fix the walls.)

So when I think about Dream House, I’m going to work on thinking Dreams For This House.

But that’s me. What about you?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/446958.html. You can comment here or there.

The ClockWork Collar, or The Princess of Al-ben, a kink-bingo mini-story in 25 parts. Poll 3

Previous: In Public (LJ)
No DW account? Vote in the comments.

Edited to add: Think this one needs to be clearer. Should I repost or plow on ahead?

“Very good.” He liked to pet her, it seemed. “Now, shall we go play house, set up a ‘house,’ or pretend we have a House?”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/446604.html. You can comment here or there.

The ClockWork Collar, or The Princess of Al-ben, a kink-bingo mini-story in 25 parts. Part 3

First: The Collar (LJ)

Previous: On the Move (LJ)

Content warning: this episode involves consent issues and penetration.

The Town Square. Stavanna tried not to see the stares. At least it wasn’t market day; only half the town was out.

“They know you’re mine.” The man’s voice sounded thick, pleased. “Let’s leave them no doubt.”

“Master?”

He unchained her, but fisted her leash. “On your knees.”

She knelt where indicated, on the footboard, oh, no, no… he was unbuttoning his fly, dropping his pants.

“Suck.”

“Here, master?” In front of half the town?

“Here. Now.” His hand in her hair left no room for argument. She did as she was bade, with as much grace as she could.

Setting Up House (LJ)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/446460.html. You can comment here or there.

The ClockWork Collar, or The Princess of Al-ben, a kink-bingo mini-story in 25 parts. Poll 2

Previous: On Display (LJ)

No DW account? Vote in the comments.

“You look nice like that.” He squeezed Stevanna’s thigh. “What do you think? Should we go to my cabin? Or to the center of town?”

Town or home? Either had its issues. “Whatever you wish, master.”

He smiled broadly. “Then into town it is. Hold on, it might get bumpy.”

Next: In Public (LJ)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/446161.html. You can comment here or there.

The ClockWork Collar, or The Princess of Al-ben, a kink-bingo mini-story in 25 parts. Part 2

First: The Collar (LJ)

Previous: The Auction (LJ)

On Display:
“So proud.” The man stroked Stevanna’s cheek. “And so expensive.” His hand went to the clockwork collar, then lower, to her dress. “Strip.”

The back of his wagon was a mess of crates, not the place for such things. But she was his slave now. She stripped.

He clothed her in a silk shift, then hooked a leash to the collar.

He chained her wrists, arms outspread, to the front hoop of his wagon, then hooked the leash to the top of the hoop, stretching her onto her toes. “You’re like a painting. And everyone will know you are mine.”

Next: On the Move (LJ)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/445761.html. You can comment here or there.

The ClockWork Collar, or The Princess of Al-ben, a kink-bingo mini-story in 25 parts. Poll 1

I did mention this was experimental, right? I will navigate my card – and this Stavanna’s story – based on answers to the polls. Polls will remain open until:

  • 24 hours have passed
  • 10 responses have been received
  • One option has a clear majority

, whichever comes first.
No DW account? Vote in the comments.

The Auction
“Well, then, out with you.”

The matching bracelets clicked around Stavanna’s wrists. Rose pushed her through the door.

Out the door, onto the selling stage.

“They didn’t want you bad enough.” The rough man grabbed Stavanna’s bracelets and steered her out of the auction house. “I do. So you’re mine.”


First: The Collar (LJ)

Next: On Display (LJ)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/445602.html. You can comment here or there.

The ClockWork Collar, or The Princess of Al-ben, a kink-bingo mini-story in 25 parts. Part 1

This is an experiment in a couple different ways, and a creation of, possibly, an entirely new ‘verse. It’s also a second attempt at filling Bingo with 100-word stories on my Kink Bingo Card.

The Collar

“You know, once this is on…”

The collar was the handiwork of an Enclave: beautiful, fine, filled with clockwork mechanisms and unknown trickery. It was cold in Stavanna’s hands, but she expected no less.

“I know.” She nodded at her mentor and handler. “There’s no taking it off.” She lifted her hair off her neck and handed the collar to Rose.

“And no coming back. You’re certain, then?” Before Stavanna answered, Rose was holding the cold collar against her throat.

“Certain.” She closed her eyes as the locking mechanism clicked shut. It fit her neck perfectly and irrevocably. “Steel certain.”

Next: The Auction (LJ)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/445416.html. You can comment here or there.