Tag Archive | morepls

Packing

For @dahob’s commissioned request.

This is erotica with very little veneer of plot.

“I’m going to have to ship you.”

The man was frowning at Alisa. Alisa had learned, quickly, not to like it when the man frowned at her. It was never good, and sometimes it was rapidly very, very bad.

“I’m sorry?” she tried, but the gag in her mouth made it “Ah ahrree.”

“You certainly will be. Did you have to bite her?”

Did she have to bite her? She thought about that one, and then decided that the man was already angry at her, and nodded. Yes, she had needed to bite that obnoxious little shit. Yes, she had needed to hear her squeal. She thought she was so much better than the rest of them – and why? Because her collar weighed less? Because her chains were thinner?

“I know she’s a prat.” The man might as well have been talking to himself. He wasn’t looking at Alisa anymore, at least. He was looking at his shelf of packing material. She swallowed, and looked away. Shit. He really meant to do it. “I know she’s a miserable little bitch. But look at her, Number Seven. She’s perfect. She’s beautiful.”

What was she, then? Because he liked hearing her talk, mangled and miserable, through the gag, she tried again. “Uh Uh-ow ee?”

“What about you, indeed? You seem to dive into this lifestyle like you were born to it. You’re a gorgeous sub. You’re responsive. Even when you try to run away, you do it with style. And I’m sure your new owner will enjoy you. You’ll be able to be the jewel of his collection, which should suit you better than being one of the chorus line.” He was walking back over to her, his bootsteps echoing on the concrete. She wasn’t going to look. She wasn’t going to look. “But you are not nearly as perfect as she is, I’m afraid. Your height, for one.” He squeezed her breast until she whimpered. “These giant things. That’s not what men here are looking for.”

“Uh ee ih?”

“Yes. He’s a bit of a pervert, you see.”

“Oh, uu.”

“You’re going to have to learn to watch your mouth. The gag is coming off. Don’t try to speak.”

She closed her eyes. She wasn’t going to look. She wasn’t going to look. The gag came out, leaving her working her jaw and swallowing drool. She hated that. She hated many things about the gag, actually, but that was the worst.

“Breathing tube. Tilt your head back, and relax.” He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, until her head was tilted as far back as it would go. “Mouth open.”

There was no point in disobeying, and no point in trying to plead. She opened her mouth while he worked something hard and unyielding down her throat.

“That’s a girl. Posture collar, to hold you where you need to go.” The thing was more than just a collar; he’d put her in it before. He buckled it around her neck, forcing her head to stay in that position, around her breasts, around her waist. She couldn’t move her spine at all when he was done buckling.

“That’s my good girl. Hood.” She didn’t have her eyes open anyway, but the hood always freaked her out. She made a worried noise in the back of her throat, around the tube that was keeping her airway open.

“You’re doing very good. Your new owner will be very happy.” The hood zipped up, leaving her in the dark. “All right. I’m strapping your arms to the bracing, and then into the box you go.”

She made low keening noises, unable to stop herself. Not the box. Not the box. But he was pinning her arms to her sides, wrapping more strapping around her, and then there was the bubble wrap.

By the time he was done wrapping her, she couldn’t have moved even without the restraints, and she couldn’t hear a thing. He patted the sole of her foot, and then there was nothing at all.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/461258.html. You can comment here or there.

Strange Favors

Jan16

For imaginaryfiend‘s commissioned continuation of A Couple Helping Hands and Littermate

That yelp. That sound. It wasn’t human, wasn’t barely alive-sounding, but she knew it. She’d know her brother anywhere. Cúmhaí peeled off the last hand holding her, and, when it wouldn’t move, started breaking fingers, fast and nasty, until the hand vanished.

“Nobody touches my brother. Nobody. Touches. My. Brother.” She could feel everyone in the room and, what was more, she could feel how much of the creature fighting her was illusion and misdirection. She dove straight for his center of mass, right there, and below there was where the Beagle had already tenderized the bastard…

She was rewarded with a long screaming yowl. “No-one hurts my brother, damn you.” She snarled it at the whole room, at the bastard growling at her and pretending she hadn’t just added injury to injury, and at the three others she could feel, even if she couldn’t see. “And I’ll kill every goddamned one of you if I have to, to prove it.”

“Never let it be said there is not some honor among the wolves, miss Pup.” The voice was nearly part of the wall, and when she tried to look in that direction, it hurt her head. “Take your brother. Nobody will stop you, as long as you go directly to Dr. Caitrin’s.”

Begley. She felt for him with her power, and found him hidden in a pool of shadow, barely breathing, not moving at all. “Beagle.” People with back injuries shouldn’t be moved. Leaving him here was not an option.

“Gods who’ve come and gone blast it all, Beagle, why are you not moving?” She was going to have to pick him up. She was going to have to carry him. “Fuck it all, Begley John, wake up.”

But he wasn’t waking up, so she picked him up, as carefully as she could. “Invisible voice?”

“I am watching your passage, Miss Pup.”

When the voice spoke, she could feel where he was. She carefully didn’t look that way.

“Where’s Dr. Caitrin’s, from here?”

The voice chuckled. Another time, that might have irritated Cúmhaí. Right now, she would take it. She could feel the others, and she had a hunch the invisible voice was holding them off. “Walk straight forward until you reach a fork. Turn left there, and the continue until the stairs. Upstairs should be clearer and more obvious.”

She’d already started walking. Manners, a voice in her head whispered. Her brother? Maybe. Once upon a time, he’d been her big brother. “Thank you, invisible voice.”

“When your brother has been tended to, Miss Pup, then you and I may have a talk. But not before.”

“You little shit. All of you little shits. I’m going to…”

“She won, Sir Thing. Let her go.”

“She didn’t win, Begley-shit cheated.”

“Defending your crew is never cheating, or your Marthin would never win anything. Let. Her Go.”

In the echoes of that conversation, Cúmhaí followed Invisible’s directions. Forward, and keep going until she got to a fork. She showed teeth every time she felt someone get near, and growled if they came within touching distance. Nobody tried to stop her. Nobody got in her way.

She wasn’t sure if that was her, truly, or the shadow she could feel following them. There were times when she felt someone get yanked away, times when she heard a hiss of “do not touch them.”

She might have to pay the piper when they were done, but she’d worry about that then. Right now, she had a Beagle to take care of.

“Damnit, Midget.”

“Damnit, Midget.” It was like being home again. Begley opened his eyes to his sister’s frowning face. They were moving, he realized, no, she was moving and he was being carried in her arms.

“Nice to see you, too.” His voice was thinner than he meant it to be. “Where are we?”

“About twenty feet from the doctor’s office. You took your sweet time waking up.”

“Sorry, I had a case of /being thrown into a wall. How did you get away?”

“She broke every finger of Mr. Thing’s hand, and then broke some more important parts.”

He knew that voice, even if he couldn’t see it. He reached for his knife, hoping it wasn’t too late.”

“Easy.” Cúmhaí squeezed him against her chest. Begley tried not to think about that too closely. She was his sister. This might be Addergoole, but…

Bigger problems right now. “Coo, this isn’t the counter, this is the fire.”

“It looks like the doctor’s office to me. Look.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “He might take it out of me later but he’s the only reason we got past the creeps in the halls, so I’m not going to look his gift horse in its invisible mouth right now, okay?”

Later. “Shit. Coo, you didn’t agree to anything, did you?”

“I extracted no promises for my service, because I offered it unasked-for. I do have some honor, young Beagle.”

“I’m not that much younger than you, you…”

“Keep the mystery, if you would. Your sister will come looking for me soon enough. I’d appreciate there being a bit of a challenge in the looking.”

“She’s my sister. I’m not going to let you hurt her.”

His sister, looking very amused, damn her, was opening the door to the doctor’s office with her foot. “Beagle..”

“Coo, don’t call me that. Look, this is important.”

“It is.” Their invisible stalker had followed them into the doctor’s office. “Begley cy’Akinobu, I promise you these two things. First, if you respect my wish, and allow your sister to discover who I am on her own, then I will consider any debt between us for my part in her escape today to be settled.”

“You bastard, you said it was free.”

“Well, it is. But I’d appreciate if it you let me play out this little game.”

Begley sighed. “All right. I won’t tell her. But…”

“And the second half of my promise. I will not extract, nor seek to extract, through torture nor through any Working or use of magic at all, any promises or other binding words, from your sister Cúmhaí during the rest of this calendar year.”

“…” That was, Begley thought, the best he was going to get. “Why?”

“Gift horses and invisible mouths,” the voice scolded. “Suffice it to say she impressed me.”

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1159682.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/453665.html. You can comment here or there.

Intimately Involved, a story of the Aunt Family for the Giraffe Call (@wyld_dandelyon)

Dec29

For wyld_dandelyon‘s prompt.

Linda was the first to figure it out.

And, like everything in the family, even that was a lie. Deborah was the first to figure it out, and James was next.

But they were intimately involved; they had all the information ahead of time. The rest of the family only thought they were intimately involved.

Except Cherie; Cherie had the only reasonable expectation of involvement. But the family had never been known to be reasonable about anything, especially where The Aunt was concerned.

“How could you?”

Linda opened with that before she even said hello or “mind if I come in?” She was pushy but not stupid; she didn’t enter the Aunt House without an invitation; she just stood in the doorway and shouted.

There was no use denying it or asking what she meant. Deborah brewed up a pot of tea and stared at her sister. “Well, when a man and a woman lie together, and he experiences pleasure known as orgasm inside of her…”

“Nobody said anything when James came around. You’re entitled to a little bit of romance in your life. But we thought you’d be responsible. You wanted this, Deborah.”

“That’s an assumption.”

“You never… You didn’t…” She sputtered it, as if uncomfortable saying what they all knew: of the four sisters, Deborah hadn’t gotten married early or pregnant even earlier.

“I understand how the family works.”

“Then how could you…”

“I can only assume by the annoyed ghost of an ancestor. I took all reasonable precautions and some unreasonable ones.”

“Except abstaining!”

“I did say some unreasonable precautions.”

“So now what?” Linda had come down from the anger and was looking worried. It made it easier for Deborah to sympathize with her sister; it wasn’t as if she didn’t feel worried as well.

She poured two cups of coffee and passed one through the open door.

“I really don’t know.”

“…Oh. Dear.”

Next – http://www.lynthornealder.com/2013/03/30/precedent-a-continuation-of-the-aunt-family-moreplease/

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/438596.html. You can comment here or there.

Together/Again

Dec26

For rix_scaedu‘s prompt. Blame/credit to @dahob for the names and Changes of the twins.

She looked at him.

He looked at her.

"It’s not that I don’t like you…"

"And I like you, too. It’s just…"

"Yeah." They liked each other, they just couldn’t live together without blowing things up. They’d been trying since they first came to Addergoole. They weren’t getting any better at it.

"The kids?"

"I’ll take Yang. You take Yin. They’re young, they’ll adapt."

—

Thirteen Years Later

"Bye, mom." Yang kissed his mother on the cheek. "Take care of yourself, all right?"

"That’s my line. You… behave yourself. No mischief you can’t cover up."

"You know I’m a good kid." Yang gave her his best innocent look. "Sweet and harmless."

"I know you are. Go on, sunshine. Shower at least once a week and don’t trust everyone you meet."

She worried about her boy, all alone in this place.

—

"Check your knives, and keep that spear under your bed." He kissed his daughter on her cheek and patted her head. "Don’t let any boy past your doorway unless he’s willing to promise you he means no harm, and if they give you trouble, tell them they have to meet me before they can get any further with you."

"Da-a-a-d." Yin checked her knives anyway, and gave her father a tight hug. "Don’t go fighting monsters without me, all right?"

"I’ll be safe, sweetie. You do the same." He slipped a palm-knife of bone into her coat pocket. "Don’t borrow anything you can’t pay back right away and don’t lend anything you can’t afford to lose."

"Don’t put your back to someone you don’t know." She patted his hand. "I’ll be fine, dad. Take care."

"You too. Go on, midnight baby."

He worried about his girl, all alone in this place.

—

"And don’t forget who you are…" Yang muttered his mother’s favorite advice. "As if I…"

"…could forget something like that. Don’t trust anyone I don’t know. How am I …"

"…ever going to meet anyone if I don’t…"

"…trust…"

"YOU!!!"

Bags went flying. The two tackled each other, mirrors save for gender, while their luggage launched across the hallway.

"I thought…"

"…we’d lost we…"

"forever."

—

On the other side of the school, as the echos of the reunited twins reached their ears, she looked at him. A wistful, amused sigh escaped her lips. "Sometimes Regine knows what she’s doing, after all."

"And sometimes we don’t."

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/436981.html. You can comment here or there.

On the Water

Dec25

For imaginaryfiend‘s prompt.

My twin and I were born on the same day, but on different planes of existence.

My father is a boatwright, you see, and while my mother was carrying me, my father – our father – was creating a boat. Building it from the felled trees to the shaped hull to the sails. Building her, my twin.

Our mother – who sewed the sails and shaped the carvings – told my father that it was a foolish conceit, when we were young. “You’ll turn her brain, telling her the boat is her sister.”

My father, who would not sell that boat, of all the boats he had crafted, smiled, agreed, and persisted in calling the ship his daughter, my twin.

“You’ve got to stop,” my mother said, when I was seven, and running along the boards more evenly than on solid ground, swimming in the ocean rather than playing in the park. “You’re twisting her.”

My father, who had watched me learn from my twin how to swim, smiled, nodded, agreed, and continued calling her my twin and my sister.

He couldn’t see her, the way I could, but I don’t think he needed to. He had brought forth the shape of my sister, and, in that shaping, he knew where her soul was – and that she had as much soul as I did.

“Stop it, or she’ll be ruined for anything but sailing.” My mother was not shouting, but it was a close thing. I was a teenager, and I had taken to the seas like I had been born with a keel as much as my sister had.

“Yes.” My father nodded, and smiled, and agreed. “She has been ruined for aught but the sea since she and her sister were begun.”

“She. Is. Not. Her. Sister.” And now my mother shouted. And now my sister and I shouted back, with her keel slapping the water and my voice rising up across the water.

“Yes. We. Are.”

And that was when things truly got complicated.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/436692.html. You can comment here or there.

Sister Help, a story of the Aunt Family for the Giraffe Call.

Dec16

To kelkyag‘s prompt.

Aunt Family has a landing page here

After Courting.

“Bear-bear.” Beryl’s older sister stuck her head into Beryl’s room without knocking. “Take off the damn talking necklace, leave the crazy cat here. We. Are going shopping.” She wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, and put on a real shirt.”

Beryl didn’t even know where to start. “Shopping?” That seemed like a good place to start.

“Jake’s agreed to drive us to the mall.”

That didn’t help. “Jake?”

“Look, you’re getting a bit weird lately.” Chalcedony barged the rest of the way in and started digging through Beryl’s clothes. “Here, wear this. This one is good.” She tossed a green shirt at Beryl. “You haven’t worn it since you got that stupid necklace. What does it disagree with him?”

“How did you…?”

“Stone told me. Don’t worry, you’re still the spark in the family. Well, I mean, the girl spark.”

“I’m not worried! I just… didn’t know.”

::Nor should there have been anything for you to know. Your brother. That’s not supposed to hap:: Joseph fell quiet as she pulled off the necklace.

“Okay.” She slipped off the shirt that Joseph liked and pulled on the one her sister had picked. “So shopping. And Stone’s been being Stone-y. But I haven’t been being weird… have I?”

“Just a little. Ever since Aunt Evie. I mean, yay, Jake, but you haven’t even been talking to him much the last few weeks. Is it the cat or the necklace.

“…Both.” She changed her jeans and tried to do something with her hair. “Radar doesn’t like him, and Joseph likes him too much.”

“Ouch, awkward. Well, lucky for you, then, you have me and Stone, too.”

“Yeah? What do you think?”

“I think you should do something else with your hair. Look. Forget the family bullshit. Aunt Evie is really young, and you’re really, really young.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“Look, the point is – even if you’re gonna be an Aunt later, you’re not, now. you’re a kid. So why not be a kid?” Chalcedony tugged Beryl’s hair into a braid. “There. You’re almost pretty and stuff. Let’s go.”

“One second.” She dropped the necklace into her sweater drawer and made sure it was firmly closed. “Let’s go.”

next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/510365.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/433811.html. You can comment here or there.

Big Brother

Dec16

To Rix_Scaedu‘s Prompt

All of Ashele’s friends had big brothers.

The trend when they’d been born was to select for a son first, and then a daughter, and then chose the third based on either the stars, one’s profession, or, least likely, one’s personal choice.

Ashele’s parents were Small Landers and Blue Hats – but not Les Chapeaux Bleus, or Ashele wouldn’t have been able to go to a normal school or have mostly-normal friends – and they’d gone natural on gender choice, leading to first Ashele and then one younger sister, Katina. This left both Ash and Kat at a decided disadvantage in dealing with, well, everything.

When the bigger boys bothered Jacque or Bradelli or Miko, their big brothers would jump in. When they needed help with homework, their big brothers would be there. When they needed inappropriate advice for dealing with authority figures, Gary or Deandro or Eder would be there to do whatever needed doing.

Ashele did everything she could do help Katina out, to be her little sister’s big brother. She got pretty good at fighting, punching, and, most of all, running away. She got even better at homework, and okay at bad advice. But she always wanted a big brother to help her with all that stuff.

She couldn’t have one – her parents weren’t willing to adopt one, and they couldn’t turn back time and do things properly – so she starting making one up.

Tall, taller than Gary or Deandro or Eder. Strong. Sports type. Able to block punches like in her favorite kung-fu movies.

Handsome. Other boys’ little sisters would want to date him. They’d be nice to Ashele to get closer to her brother. She could handle that.

When she got her nose broken defending Katina, she pictured him holding the hanky for her, instead of Eder. When she lost a shoe running away from another bully, she pictured him catching up with her and giving her shoe back. First dance, she imagined what he’d tell her in place of her parents’ awkward advice. When the boy got too annoying, and she had to punch him, she imagined her brother punching him instead.

And so it went. On her graduation day, when her parents were busy with a Blue Hat rally and couldn’t make it, she imagined him sitting there next to Katina, cheering for her.

She’d pictured him for almost ten years now, but when she looked up and saw him there, it was still a shock. Tall, handsome, hugging Katina close as he waved at her.

The principal caught her as she tripped. She was pretty sure nobody else noticed the brother she wasn’t supposed to have, but the principal, Mr. Ankay, whispered something in her ear as he passed her the diploma.

“You and I need to have a talk.”

The big brother was gone by the time she got off the stage, but Ashele had a feeling things had only started getting weird.

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/470615.html

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/433262.html. You can comment here or there.

Moving Forward, a continuation of Wren/Nydia for the October Giraffe Call

Dec13

This is to rix_scaedu‘s commissioned continuation of
Love and Hospitality,
Graduation Plans,
and
Good Bones.

“No, I don’t think you understand.” Wren leaned forward over the table and tried not to pound on the table. Ladies do not throw tantrums in public. Ladies smile, and find out all their enemies’ weaknesses. Phelen had been full of good lessons. Massive control, but lots of good lessons. “We are not looking for someone who wants a nanny. We are not looking for someone who wants a mommy. We have our own children.”

“Look, if I’m going to top someone as a lifestyle, I expect them to cook and clean for me. I expect my subs to do as I tell them. That’s not being childish; that’s just the way I do things.”

He was slick as a snake and twice as scaly, although he was on the list as Faded. Nydia had gone silent next to Wren, and she understood the urge. She pursed her lips at the man.

“Then we are not interested.”

“You won’t find anyone else as skilled in this sort of thing as I am.”

Something about the way he argued made her want to argue back. “But it doesn’t matter how good of a plumber you are when we’re looking for an electrician.”

“If you truly knew what you wanted, you wouldn’t be in the market for a dom.” He reached over the table and touched Wren’s hand. She moved her hand away before he could press down.

“If you touch me without my permission ever again, I will ruin you faster than you can say ‘creepy old man.’ This interview is over. Thank you for your time.”

He stared at her. She wondered if anyone had ever said no to him before. She didn’t have time to baby him thorough this, though; Nydia was twitching next to her. “Good luck in your future endeavors.” She wasn’t very good at being authoritative, but she managed now, for the sake of the team. “Nydia. Come.”

It took her friend until they were in the car to realize what had happened. “Did you just…”

“You were frozen. He creeped you out?”

“Snake.” She curled up around her knees in the passenger seat. “If you hadn’t been there…”

“Hey, that’s why we’re a team. Come on, let’s go home. We’ve only got one more place to look at, and that’s not for another three hours.” And only two more people on Lady Maureen’s list. She didn’t want to have to write home and ask for another list. She wasn’t sure that would go over well.

There was a dead rabbit – no, a very well-tanned rabbit skin, head and all – and two jewelry boxes waiting in front of Wren & Nydia’s door. Not collars, she prayed, but Nydia was already opening one.

Not collars. Tennis bracelets, diamond tennis bracelets. Wren stared at the piece in surprise. “It’s your colors.”

“Bet the other one had brown stones. Rabbit skin?”

“Hey. It’s not a dead bird.” That probably would have freaked her out more. “Nyd… do you think it’s safe to bring the kids here?”

“Thresholds. Speaking of…” She unlocked the door and pushed Wren through.

“Only works on fae.” Wren grabbed Nydia’s arm and pulled her through anyway.

“Yeah, well, deadbolts and a steel door work pretty well on humans. Rabbit skin this time. He’s learning.”

“Why do you say he?” Wren closed the door and looked at the gifts.

“It’s just such a guy thing to do. So, where do we stand on our standings?” Nydia set the rabbit fur on a bookshelf, draping it over some piece of statuary she’d brought with her. “The buildings. That one next to the old factory?”

“That’s the best option so far. But I’m not sure about the other one, either. The one in the mall?” Wren stuck the brown tennis bracelet in her room. Where would she wear something like that?
“Meh. Too mall-y.” It was always a bit surprising when Nydia had opinions. “But at least we have options there.”

“The redhead…” Wren offered it up weakly, knowing it wasn’t going to work.

“The redhead was boring. Come on, the orders he came up with…”

“Were as bad as the creep today, I know.” She sat down in the big, comfy armchair. “I don’t know. I’m beginning to feel like Lady Maureen set us up for failure with these guys.”

“Why would she do that?”

“For a lesson, maybe? Or maybe she really likes one of the last two guys.” She glanced at her notes. “I’m not sure about that one. They’re likable-looking, but so was the snake today.”

“She doesn’t seem like she’d get something like that wrong. And she agreed with our plan.”

“That doesn’t mean that she thinks it will succeed.” The idea was beginning to sound more and more reasonable. Lady Maureen had wanted them to learn something. Maybe Maureen and DJ had gone in on it together. They could find a building that was almost perfect, and that would work out. But to find a boy who would be what they wanted – take them in hand without being overbearing, accept their collar without mooching, and be able to deal with their children without issue – that was beginning to seem impossible.

The phone ring cut across her moping like lightning through a grey sky. She scrambled for it, but Nydia picked it up first.

“Hello? Oh, yes. Yes, tomorrow at three, right. What? Ah, here, why don’t you talk to Wren?” Frowning, she passed the phone over.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Miss Watson? This is Erwin Landero; I have an appointment with yourself and Miss Chatelle tomorrow at three? The Lady Maureen made the arrangements.”

“Yes.” She flipped open her appointment book. “Yes, we’re meeting at the Moon Beans Café.”

“I was hoping I could stop by today? I have a small pamphlet I’ve written up, and if you and Miss Chatelle had a chance to read it before we met, it would be wonderful.”

“Well, we won’t divulge our home address, but if you’d like to meet briefly at the Starbucks on the corner of Juniper and Clove, we could be there in forty-five minutes.”

“Thank you very much, and I understand the precautions. I’ll see you there. Juniper and Clove in forty-five minutes.”

“That’s interesting.” She hung up the phone and reached for her coat. “This one will either be a complete scum, or perfect.”
“So we’re taking the long way around the block, then?”

“I think we could use a little walk. And there’s that place on the corner we’ve been thinking about.”

She opened the door while Nydia got her coat. There, bending over to put something on their doormat, was the leanest, most feline-looking man she’d ever seen with a human face. He glanced up at her, dropped the thing – more chocolates – yelped, and ran away.

Wren could swear she saw him go halfway up the wall when he turned the corner.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/430424.html. You can comment here or there.

The Ropes

Jul15

For clare_dragonfly‘s prompt

Rozen is a character in Addergoole

Warning: bondage, but no sex

“And to think, I nearly went to the Police Academy.” Rozen tied another knot, immobilizing the slim, naked girl hanging in front of him. She could still wiggle, and she was doing quite a bit of that, but the most she could do would be to set herself to swinging, as she was, swaying lightly back and forth. “Plenty of time for that in the fall; this is so much more fun.” He grabbed her by her raven hair. Raven, sadly, not red. But there would be redheads later. “This is a lot more fun.”

He had gagged the girl with another knot of rope, so she couldn’t answer coherently, but she mumbled something around the gag anyway, sounding deliciously stuck. There were benefits to playing with humans; one of those was that he really had no concern she’d ever come gunning for him.

Of course, she had walked into this willingly, which was another plus.

He pulled her face around until she was looking up at him, her scalp at his navel. “You are loads of fun.” He meant it, too, although he missed the drunk look that the bond could give a girl when you praised her. Maybe he needed a Kept.

Maybe he needed a bullet to the skull.

She mumbled up at him, and he pinched her nipples happily. “Comfortable? I could really get into this, you know.” He fiddled with the ropes around her ankles, changing the angle of her suspension, dropping her head down a couple more inches. “This is really the best thing I could have done with my summer.” He reached for his belt, and watched her eyes widen.

“We’ll see how you feel about that tomorrow, why don’t we?” The voice behind him stopped him dead.

“Tomorrow?” He turned around, the raven-haired girl suddenly forgotten for another dark girl. Annissa, the woman who’d invited him here. And she was smiling. For a moment, he thought he saw fangs flicker as if she’d let a Mask slip.

“You have to take your turn in the ropes, too, Rozen. It’s in the contract.” This time, he was sure her teeth were inhumanly sharp. “You should really learn to read things before you sign them.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/372078.html. You can comment here or there.

IconFlash: The Bug Rebellion

Jul9

Continuing flash series! I’m going to write one flash for every Icon I have, over 4 LJ accounts, 1 DW, and a whole bunch of not-currently-in-use, until I get bored or run out of icons.

Today’s icon:

Swirls, picked by @dahob

Icon by lo_rez

I have been using this icon for my Bug Invasion series.

It hadn’t been Kaylie’s intention to steal a Bugship. She and Derrick had just been trying to get away, as away as they could get when Derrick had one of those bugs in his head, just trying to have the closest to privacy they could get.

But the Bug-shuttle had been right there, and its swirling interface, like Mandelbrot sets of buttons, had answered to Derrick’s touch. Blushing, he’d told her his symbiote thought this was a good idea.

It wasn’t until they were in the front seat, both of them fitting easily in the single Bug-shaped seat, and Kaylie’s foot hit the second set of buttons, that they thought maybe the symbiote had bigger plans. And when Derrick’s face got a suddenly stricken look, Kaylie knew it had to be something big.

“They won’t follow us.” He said it, and then /It/ said it, in the metallic voice it forced out of her lover’s vocal cords. “They don’t understand what it’s like. They will say I have left the… chirrrZXkkglg…. the reservation.”

“And what about us?”

“You won’t be the only ones. We have a plan.” Derrick’s eyes blinked silver-and-gold for a moment. “I will sleep now. You may be alone together. Do not worry.”

They had a plan. That was not the most reassuring of things. But Derrick’s arms around her, in the pilot’s chair of a shuttle shooting towards the atmosphere… that was the most comforting thing Kaylie’d felt in a long time. There would be more.

It looked like the Bugs had a rebellion going on. Kaylie wondered how Earth would fare in the aftermath.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/367376.html. You can comment here or there.

Alder's Grove Fiction

The Worlds of Lyn Thorne-Alder