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Amongst the Stars

*Seems to have fallen asleep here but sits up and looks around to see if anyone has stopped by. It appears no one has been here in a little while as a stellar winds kick up a little dust from the asteroid. I lean back once more and continue to gaze at the stars waiting for visitors or the Moon Girl herself returns.*
 
soft footfall landing
a scurrying from the hole
leaving gifts of hats
☆

An excerpt from my roleplay through e-mail, to link in my first post...

☆​

Sophia hadn't meant it to get this far. Famous last words, perhaps - it was all her mind could think of as she lay dully on the ground, her eyes half-closed, men standing guard around her. It was only seven months into her first year at university; yet, here she was. Torn clothes, drugged, with her hands loosely tied (probably more for their peace of mind - whatever they had slipped in her drink had worked just fine) - wouldn't her parents be so proud?

Oh, shut up. They're the reason you joined in the first place.
Testing her bonds weakly, Sophia fed her strength by remembering that initial irritation. Her parents had always controlled her life, right from her clothing options right to what she chose to study. Even the course she was on right now had been cherry-picked by their 'professional acquaintances'... it had been a comfort back then, but since sixteen, Sophia had felt a burning desire to be completely rid of them. They whined at first as she dyed her naturally dark hair with blood-red streaks, rolled their eyes at her heavier make-up, turned up their noses at her new friends. Even though those new friends had made her feel so included, so... free. Sophia had met them through Diane, an old friend of a friend from high school, and soon she had been accepted into the group with open arms. A few of them could even understand her family frustrations. For the first time, she had been encouraged to just be herself - and it was hard to not want to return the favour for them. To do anything.

It had began innocently enough, coming to little meetings outside of nights out. Experimenting with a few soft drugs; nothing harder than weed, although to Sophia, that was already way out of her boundaries. As they would all sit in smoke-filled rooms, eyes watering and red, Smithson - what the little ringleader of their friendship group had preferred being called, his last name - would speak to them about his dreams. He was good with his words and they'd create such beautiful, vivid images in Sophia's mind as she enjoyed the high that she felt drawn to more of these impromptu meets, where they would all lean against each other until they would all sink into a mesh of limbs.
Smithson's dreams would mostly be about his visions, something from above speaking to him and showing him what he must do to make them happy, to save the world, to be blessed. Sophia had never taken it seriously; in fact, she didn't think any of them did. Not until now. It had all been about enjoying the time together and the stories... well, she'd assumed so. Diane never seemed to be serious, she just took the opportunity for cheap pot and a quiet area to make-out with Patrick, her on/off boyfriend. Sophia had used her amount of interest as a sort of gauge stick.

Over time, Smithson had become more and more enthralled by these stories. He'd take an interest in certain people within their group - both men and women, he did not seem picky - and tell them they had been chosen next to 'help' Smithson fulfill what he needed to do to grant him more dreams. That's when Sophia, even in her entranced and fuzzy states, had become awkward at these meetings. She'd seen Becky be coerced into pleasuring him, pushed gently to be on all fours to suck him as enthusastically as she could whilst he stroked her hair and spoke of how she was helping their future visions as a group. Marie had cried when she'd been lifted down onto his cock by Josh and Martin, but had clung around Smithson's neck helplessly as he fucked her, the group watching. Occasionally it'd dissolve into orgies of activity; something Sophia had always managed to avoid being involved in. But for some reason she'd always gone back. Who else was she going to hang around with? Besides, it hadn't been really weird until... until Smithson had chosen her.

Even in her frazzled present state, Sophia remembered how wild his eyes had been when she had nervously, but firmly, turned him down. How surprised everyone else had been too. The other girls had glared, especially the ones who had already 'done their part' in previous meetings; the men weren't too much better. For a moment she thought Smithson would order her pounced on, but he had shrugged and turned away, instead calling on Victoria. She had been all too excited to be next and make up for Sophia's failing. Sophia herself had taken another long puff, and let herself fall away from the niggling feeling of worry that it had all given her. That was supposed to be the end of it.

Evidently it was not. It had been three weeks since then, and she had managed to avoid the two meetings held, but Diane had insisted she join her on a night out tonight. Just the two of them, and some unrelated friends, she said. Maybe it was time Sophia just relax from studies; she had seemed stressed recently!
Diane wasn't wrong, it had been stressful... so despite herself, Sophia had agreed. Dressing herself in a short black dress with chunky heels, she had spent an hour deciding on whether to have her hair up or down before finally leaving it down, slightly curled at the ends that brushed her hips. Her tanned skin was lightly dusted with glitter.

Then... it was all a bit murky, even now. Sophia remembered dancing, getting a few drinks. Meeting Diane's friends - she didn't recognise them, so she'd relaxed. One of them - Daniel? - had fetched the next round, and then everything got a little wild after that in her brain... she remembered a car, but then she woke up here. It was cold, she was lying on grass, and she barely had the energy to open her eyes. Even her tongue lay like a stone in her mouth. She knew she should be panicking, but she couldn't bring herself to even work up a tear. Everything was... in slow-motion.

"Is she ready?"
A male voice cut through the air. One she recognised. Smithson!

"All prepped."
That was Daniel. The puzzle pieces began to slot together even in the sluggish, unemotional state of Sophia's brain. Shit.

"She'll thank us soon enough." Smithson continued, his grin evident just in his tone. Sophia could imagine him now; all smug, muscled arms crossed, his blue eyes looking down at her helpless, drugged body with the knowing he'd won in the end. Won what, Smithson? What are you going to do?!
Evidently the talk was over after that; not another word was spoken before she was hoisted up from the waist, lifted over someone's shoulder unceremoniously. Sophia could feel her dressed riding up her thighs and felt the urge to scream, but still her mouth refused to obey. She was silent as the cave opening swallowed them up.

Inside was a circle of candles, the draft from the cavern mouth apparently not enough to blow them out; Smithson stood next to a flat rock, heavy stones piled next to him with ropes tied around them. At the back of the cavern were some hooded figures - Sophia assumed they were the rest of their little meeting groups. A bubble of hysteria grew in her stomach but of course, without her tongue working, she just convulsed silently as her body tried to laugh. Oh my god, oh god, what are they going to do?

"On the rock." Smithson ordered, his voice more of a bark, an order. Even stranger, whoever was carrying Sophia (Daniel?) obeyed, laying her down on the flat rock. Sophia could see now that the cavern had a hole in the ceiling - she could see the night sky through it, the stars bright against the darkness. Wherever we are, it's far out enough for no light pollution... argh, shut up, brain.
After this, Sophia felt her limbs be moved - thin ropes tied around her wrists, then her ankles. Finally she managed to say... something. Or rather it was more a whimper, her eyes rolling in their sockets to try and catch sight of someone.
"She's awake." Someone commented, a voice she did not recognise.
"Doesn't matter now." Smithson shrugged, his apathy clear. "She's in place to be useful."
Sophia tried to reply, but the words just came out as groans, her best attempts at struggling being limp movements against the weighted-down ropework. She couldn't see anyone from this angle, but she could hear them. After a few minutes of whispering, she then heard the group start out hesitantly in a chant. It's what it seemed like, anyway.
"Yes, just like in my dream!" Smithson said, his pitch fevered and excited. Something about it struck Sophia with a fresh wave of fear that broke through even her drug-addled state, and a tear leaked from the corner of her eye.
"H-help..." She managed to choke out, a squeal of terror escaping her after. But the chanting continued, and there was not one movement to indicate that anyone had even heard her.
I definitely didn't mean it to get this far...

☆​
 
More thought-vomit-
If anyone wants to continue this, PM me!

Yalisa was a witch.
Not your green-skinned, wart-on-the-nose type - although she had taken the guise of such for a few years, to amuse herself. It had taken her four months to work herself into a new body after that and just the memory was a good reminder for her never to take inspiration for a look from popular caricatures again. (She had broken that rule twice since, but she was determined now never to do it again. Really.)

No, Yalisa was a first born witch - the first born daughter in the family, which was apparently a big deal in the magical-blooded community. There wasn't many of them in contact any more but her family had retained close ties with six other clans which had helped with her general education on the state of things. The rest of them, her grandmother had always claimed, had gone 'underground'. Whether she meant that literally or not, Yalisa had no idea, but she had always fancied the idea of an entire group of witches and sorcerors turning into moles and vanishing from the daylight.
But, yes, the first born thing. It meant she was the important one who could pass on the strongest magic through normal childbirth herself, so she was spoiled and fawned over by many of her family whilst she was growing up. Her poor father didn't have much of a say in things - he was sacrificed on her sixth birthday as part of the whole 'growing up' thing for witchling daughters. Although Yalisa now suspected he'd simply had an affair. Ah, but by now the truth was as irrelevant as the insects she squashed under her bare feet as she strolled outside of her cavern home.

As part of her witchhood, Yalisa was now to live alone for half a century as she developed her own reputation, her own 'style', of magic. Experimentation was encouraged, and naturally that could not happen in the clan home, so young witches were sent out into the world to carve out their own niche - and to make sure their mistakes hurt only themselves. Yalisa was into her thirtieth year alone and so far it had not been too bad. In fact, she was not so sure she'd return to settle in the clan once another two decades had passed. What was the fun of that?

Currently, the woman had settled herself on the outskirts of a small community of desert farmers, their love for nighttime stories around the fire no doubt inspired for want of distraction from life's hard labours. It was all the same for her - for a while she'd pottered around as a healer woman, selling what herbs she'd found and what ointments she'd created, all of those secret witchy things. Now in recent day, she had retreated... found herself a healthy new body, a dark-skinned woman with lucisious long hair that Yalisa had fancied for her own. The amber-golden eyes and smooth curves, the full lips, slender fingers, had all just been a bonus.
Yalisa had never been in a particularly attractive body before, not that she could remember them all. She did not even remember what her original looks were. (Again, irrelevant details) The witch enjoyed admiring her reflection, skimming her palms down her hips and thighs, stretching out her arms and then twirling so her hair hit against her bare skin. Delicious. Usually the bodies she took were for a reason, but this one had simply been out of the lust to own such an image for herself. What to do with this one was still very much a question that weighed heavily on her mind.

Little did the witch know that she had not been the only one who had noticed the poor woman's graces, and her disappearance had caused a stir in the neighbouring village. They had heard rumours of a mysterious being lurking in the caverns - and now approached, a group of three men, armed with torches, knives, and caution in their hearts.
 
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Today I have this song in my head. I think I've posted before that no song really strikes me as sexual, but Lana proves me wrong...
With a tired giggle, the moon girl pulls a blanket over her own shoulders.
It's been a long day, at my communications post... so many lovely people here on Lit. So many ideas wandering in my brain to think about during my time at home.
With another brief smile, the girl hides away. A small paper sign can be found by any guests:

away for two days
help yourselves to tea, and rest
enjoy the quiet
☆

 
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Unexpected complications...
The girl speaks from somewhere; she cannot be seen, but her aura is present in the asteroid's atmosphere.
One of my little kittens is ill. He's a brave boy, but now he needs time to rest.
I'll be breezing in and out of Lit until he recovers. I've alerted my co-authors but here is a general note here ♡
Leaving a small notice again, the girl retreats to reality.
 
*Beams down and leaves a special container of Green Tea with a hint of Honey and a bag of cat treats for the Space Girl when she returns. Both items in special containers so they will stay hot and fresh till the owner can pick them up. Taking a look at the stars and smiling before beaming back to my ship for the time being.*
 
Thank you ♡
Your gift is much appreciated. I should be back as normal from now on, hopefully...
The girl sits and sips at the tea, seeming exhausted.
I'm sure little kitten will appreciate the gift when he's woken up. Right now he's enjoying his sleep for most of the day. Same as normal, really!
She giggles, although it has a note of resignation.
I've also fallen ill now, which is just life being itself. Still, another day of rest and I should be back to full strength.
Leaving a small gift for Amc should he return, the girl retreats to one of her asteroid holes for the time being.
The gift is in a small white box; inside are homemade slices of banana bread.
 
Idea vomit
  • A consistently annoying sidekick
  • a pet in training
  • a young girl in a monstrous world
  • a mage among men
 
☆
A factory of whores;
Slave market, for debt collection;
Fae land, stumbled upon, lost;
A gift to strange alien overlords;
A red scarf belonging to the wrong woman
 
☆
A superhero fallen, time to be brainwashed by the villain
A milkmaid is milked
A young woman is saved only to be enslaved
Tied up in knots to be gifted
 
a ghost in violet
is most welcome, as she drifts
what beauty, what night
☆

I have missed following your posts, Vail :heart:
There is a lot to catch up on...
 
steals Vail and places her in a new thread, just so

+

I also have a bit of a cold irl. Any delayed responses to PMs - this is why.

+

Blackmail sounds really sexy to me, recently...
 
To anyone waiting for a reply from me - I have not forgotten, I have seen them. Illness and now a sudden business trip for two weeks.

I do not wish to commit myself to anything until this is all over. See you all soon :heart:
 
tentacles, aliens
machines
monsters
collars and chains

☆
 
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