Solomon's Church of the Third Revelation

[BeautifulDream]

Song of Solomon 2:3
...I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.​

Stone by stone, a church is built. A community of those who shared the religion coming together to create something grand. A house of worship. A place to ask for forgiveness. A home to those who seek redemption. The year 1890 was when they opened the doors to those who wish to pray. It was the year the First Congregational Church came to be. The year the three story Norman structure became blessed with the Lord.

It was 1991 when the Lord took his blessings back.

As with all things, it became obsolete. Worshipers became fewer and fewer. The once house of God became a empty shell of what it once was. A hundred years after the construction of the building it closed its doors. But the doors didn't stay closed... the church didn't stay empty.

The idea struck them out of nothing. A simple comment and a plan was set. Funny how things happen like that, no? A church, they said, a place of worship. Not for prayer (although their idea of prayer was to be expected, just not for forgiveness), not for finding the Lord. Their church was something else. They knew they found the place, the once First Congregational Church had all the things they needed for their plan. The towers, the basement, the main floor; it was all perfect. All they had to do was change a few things and then their new home would be complete. Add a little wickedness, add a few dark desires, a dash of sweet and it was finished project.

Solomon's Church of the Third Revelation was about to be open for business.

Upon entering the large wooden double doors that is the church's entrance guest would be greeted by Maddy, a young blonde dressed always in a black pencil skirt and a white blouse. Maddy can take your coat and/or other valuables and direct you to where you need to go. "The stairs," she'll say, "to your left."

Up the stairs, you'll find confessionals and another set of double doors. Do not try to go through the doors until you have confessed. Trust me, the man in the black suit won't let you through. Enter the confessional, confess your sins, ask for forgiveness then you shall enter.

Now, you'll see this isn't your grandmothers type of church.

​

The open floor is perfect if you seek a dance. The alter will be straight before you, only those who the owners request can visit the alter during normal operating hours. That is our space. But feel free to kneel on the pads provided to pray before the alter or simply take a seat in the pews provided for a rest. Or, if it's a drink you wish, visit the bars found on either side and one of the Angels or Demons can help you with what you need. Try the Holy Water, I promise it'll make you feel lovely.

Now that you're here, it's time you decided. What is it you wish? What do you desire? A little bit of sweet? A little bit of wicked? Let one of the waiters know what you would like, they'll give you the key. Do you wish to visit Heaven? Or, do you want a taste of evil?

On either side of the altar are two doors. One leads up to Heaven, while the other will take you down to Purgatory.
The choice is yours...​

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Enter Purgatory...

Do not bite at the bait of pleasure, till you know there is no hook beneath it.

Open the door, if you are feeling brave. On the other side, you are met with stone stairs, the lights flickering above, the base of them lost in the darkness.

Once at the bottom, you follow a faint light into a narrow stone hallway, the end of it again shrouded in darkness.

It is only upon opening the door at the end of the hall that you find yourself in an open and well-lit room. The furniture is fine, plush, and quite comfortable. The fireplace is never without a crackling fire that seems never in need of fresh fuel.

A well-stocked bar stands at one end of the room, holding virtually anything you could crave to wet your throat. The upstairs staff, however, are not allowed down here, so it is self-serve only. Hidden behind the bar, one just may find a wide assortment of tools, for both pleasure and pain.

Please, return them where you found them when done.

Lastly, through a door in the back of the room, you will find his bedroom.

It, of course, is invitation only.


Are you in need of purification? Do your sins require punishment?

Purgatory is open.​

 

[BeautifulDream]

Welcome to Heaven

"I am the Rose of Sharon, the lily of the valleys. Like a lily among the thorns, so is my darling among the maidens."


Up the stairs, find your innocence.

Take joy of all this place has to offer.

Or, visit the one who runs this place. But careful, though this is Heaven and you are free to do as you wish, do not enter without an invite. The Mistress isn't as sweet as she seems.

Angels in white mini dresses, white wings attached to their backs, glitters of gold lining their cheeks and sparkling in their hair. They sat upon plush white couches, overly large sporadically covered in plush pillows. The counters were marble, a gleaming white. Even the stone fireplace was white. Everything was white in this world. Every piece of furniture, every gown, every set of wings. It was Heavenly.

It was, after all, her Heaven.

Shades of white the couches, the plush pillows. Her lounge. Marble counter tops, tables, columns, carpets. You couldn't find a single thing that wasn't sweet and innocent here. Well, that wasn't necessarily true. She wasn't so innocent. She just played the part well enough. She was the only dark clad thing in the upstairs floor of the church. She had to stick out though, that's why she was darker. It had to be know she was running the show up here. Her wings were as black as night. They matched the long flowing gown. The painted nails.

This was her home. This was her place of worship.

The main floor was partly hers, but the same claim of ownership could not be given the way it was up here. This simply was hers and hers alone. Just like below was his. His domain. His Purgatory. Both could venture to the other land to seek out whatever they desire, but neither could control it. Neither could run it like the other could. But, both could command the Demons and Angels who were employed.

His home was one of wickedness. Hers was for the sweetness in life. There were no bitter drinks here, there were no troubles. Simply innocence. You wouldn't be chained up here, unless you requested it, we couldn't help but oblige you. But, the chains that bind you would not be harsh or rough. If it was rough you seek, then perhaps you should visit his land. Hers was not cruel. Hers would give you whatever you desire, within bounds, Heaven was after all everything you want.

Heaven was about to open it's gates.

 

[Luna_Wolf72]

Along a path barely lit, a Wolf in the guise of a woman comes carrying two very distinct gift baskets. Amazingly enough, she has managed to find the Church with no trouble. Not that she expected problems. She's a wolf dammit and a good one. Most things can not remain hidden if she wants to find them.

A sigh, then.

She worries that her offerings will go unremarked.

However, one did not gift for a pat on the head and if one required a fucking pat on the head when they gave a gift then they probably should stop with all the fucking gifting.

That thought, long and drawn out as it was, caused her to smile.

Honey brown eyes light up and a low giggle is released into the still morning air. Soundless footsteps bring her to the entrance doors.

Baskets are shifted.

Doors are opened.

Breath is caught.

Beautiful.

Traipsing inside, she allows her nose to lead her to the appropriate places.

At the foot of the stairway leading UP, she left the first gift basket, marked simply with the letters~BD.

Turning toward the left, she places the second basket just beside a door throbbing with heat. That gift is marked with the letters~ SB.

Welcoming chore finished, she retreats, trailing the scent of sandalwood and vanilla behind her.

 

[BeautifulDream]

"Miss, something came for you."

She turned toward the voice, the petite blonde standing in the doorway. The journal moved from her lap to the bed, legs sliding slowly off to the floor as Maddy stepped in toward her. She took the basket, a smile forming on her lips as she admired the contents. How sweet. She knew instantly who it was from. The beautiful and kind wolf.

"Thank you, Maddy." she said as the girl retreated from the room.

"And, thank you Luna." she whispered.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

Sitting in the confessional...speechless....

At least it was pretty, all ornate and wood, and smelling of a thousand dead and meaningless confessions. She bit her lip, and squirmed, and ran her fingers over the wood.

You have to confess in order to enter, little one.

His words, her head. Repeating.
Confess. WHAT tho?
Oh, come on. What were those virtues.. uh, sins again?

Sloth.
Lust.
Gluttony.
Pride.
Uh....
Envy
Wrath
Greed...

I confess... a sigh... I confess... à avoir des sentiments pour un homme que peut-être je ne devrais pas et je trouve cela à la fois passionnant et effrayant.

Another sigh. But a smile.
And she finally exits.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

A final glance in the mirror, and a nod at what he sees there. Polished, dark leather shoes thump firmly across hard wood, and his fingers travel along the plush red as he passes briskly through the room. His steps and the crackling sound of the fire are the only sounds that fill it currently, but that will soon change. The calm before the storm, they called it.

Out through the door, and he's passing down a dark hallway, stone now making the sound underfoot. Every so often he passes by an arch with burning candles on either side, the only light cast into the darkness down here. Soon, it threatens to swallow him up completely.

Up stairs then, his shoes still the only sound echoing around the enclosed area as he ascends toward the light. The door to the church proper is opened and-

What's this, then?

He pauses in the doorway, his eyes settling on a basket. Bending, he lifts it and is met with the scent of sandalwood and vanilla, and a smile touches on his lips. He makes a mental note to send a thank you note later. A step back, the basket set inside the doorway on the other side, and then he continues on. The heaven wooden door shuts silently behind him.

The church seems empty, perhaps Dream is upstairs but he has not heard a peep from her. Now is not quite the time to go looking, either. Other matters to attend to.

Blue eyes flicker to the altar, roped off and empty, at the ready for all manner of public debauchery to be displayed there.

Quick steps carry him across the open floor, between the bars and towards the door at the back of the church. It is a few feet from here where he finally stops, and his hands are clasped in front of him as he waits for her.

But he is not empty-handed.

Held in one hand is a loop of leather, the color of it casting quite the contrast between the dark of his suit, though it is not far off from the red of his tie. Around the back of his neck, hanging down on either side like a scarf, is a bright silver chain, with a clip at one end and a loop of soft leather on the other.

He knows she will have to confess to enter, and a part of him is anxious to hear what it was. Surely you didn't think confession here was confidential?

But as with so many things, that is for later. Now, he waits for her.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

The shoes clicked on the stone floor as she stepped out, smoothing down her dress over curves. If she turned her tattoo would be plainly obvious between her shoulder blades, and for once she'd opted to keep her curls pinned back and not wild and in her face.

Still several shade of red from her confession, she still brightened when she looked up from her dress to see him standing there, not noticing anything but the red tie before she easily slipped into his arms to say hello.

"Hi. Nice place. Hate the confessional."

She grinned and kissed his cheek softly before noticing what was in his hands. Which stopped her while she stared up at him incredulously.

"I thought you said we were going dancing tonight? Dinner and dancing, Daddy. What's this?"

She stepped away from him then, suddenly hating that smirk, and that bit of chain. Damn him.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

"Baby girl."

He smiled brightly when she entered, and didn't even attempt to hide the travel of his eyes over curves and teases of exposed flesh. His hands unclasped as she moved to him, arms encircling her easily, hugging her close to him with a quiet laugh.

"I thought you might, but... rules are rules, you know."

Her question brought the smirk to his expression that she knew hid scores of untold secrets, and usually meant trouble for her. In the space created by her step back he lifted the hand holding the collar, holding it up for her to see.

"This, baby girl, is for you. I know it's not quite the dinner and dancing, but... soon. I have things I want to show you first."

The distance between them was erased with a step forward , and the collar, unclasped, was opened by his hands.

"Now chin up. Let's not dawdle here when there are so many other places to see."

 

[Miss_Vivi]

She would never tell him that she loved this part, that her collar, in a beautiful pink made her happy, and shivery, and very much his. She'd never tell him, but somehow doubted that it made a difference. She turned and felt the leather surround her neck, sending tingles down her spine. While she moved her hair, he tightened it and made sure that the fit was right before closing it.

A smile upon her lips, while all of her focus was suddenly on that piece around her neck, her hands already playing with the small ring on the end, the metal making small clinking noises as she spins it and rolls it around her fingers. She blushes, and thinks about moving her hands.

She doesn't want to. She also doesn't really want to meet his eyes, realizing that the next piece will surely short circuit her brain, her bratiness, and make her very vulnerable to him.

"Daddy, don't use that.. please."

An accusing finger points at the length of chain that dangles from his hand, while her head shakes out a no. And she knows that it will be pointless.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Eyes that had appeared rather green today are drawn instantly to the tattoo as she turns, and he takes a moment to admire it on her skin. The moment passed, he is quickly to work, the collar slipped snugly around her neck, then tightened when her hair is lifted out of the way.

He admires her in it when she turns, quite pleased.. and, yes, more than a little aroused.. at the sight, and can't help but to smile as she toys with the O ring, noting the color on her nails is not far off from that of the collar.

The pointing finger pulls his attention to the length of chain looped behind his neck, and he glances down at the bright silver that stands out in sharp contrast to the darkness of his jacket. Both hands now free, he reaches up and gathers the length of leash in his hands until it is free from over his shoulders.

"None of that, baby girl."

His hands move, one slipping the loop of leather at the end of the leash onto his wrist, and the other closes around the clasp at the other end, thumbing it open. With his empty hand he reached out to her, index finger hooking under her chin and lifting it, his lips lowering to meet hers in a soft, light kiss.

Their lips together, the back of his forefinger trails under her chin and down her throat until he meets the collar, and then the ring is grasped, the clip placed on, and his thumb releases it, letting it spring closed. The kiss is broken then, a satisfied little growl coming to life in the back of his throat, and with his hand still closed around the clasp, he gives a light tug.

"There. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

He cannot help but to grin, and with a nod of his head in the direction he'd come from, he continues on.

"Are you ready to see Purgatory, baby girl?"

 

[Miss_Vivi]

The moment is so quiet that one would have have to been watching the entire little tableau in order to understand what had happened. Just like that and her power is handed over to him.

Weak knees and everything.

The click at the end of the leash seals her role in all of this and she melts internally. She wants to cling, to crawl, to beg and to please. Damn leash. It's a constant and clanking reminder of who he is and where she belongs.

"Yes, Daddy. Please show me Purgatory."

Her words and voice are small, which is so unlike the girl who is usually loudly proclaiming her freedom to the world. In this moment, her world ends at the close of his fist, which tugs lightly at the chain.

He turns and walks off and all Vi notices is the beautiful stone flooring, not willing or ready to look up at the grandeur around them. She does however notice and note his gorgeous backside.

Which she hopes fervently for the chance to mark up with her nails... if he ever frees her from this binding.

Part of her wants to kick him.
She won't.
Stupid leash.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Her voice is quiet, and the change in it is unmistakable. With a smile, a nod, he releases the leash near the clasp, his other hand closing around the chain near where the leather looped around his wrist begins.

"Come with me, baby girl."

A light tug as he turns away, and he leads her across the open floor, between the long bars with all manner of potent liquors waiting at the ready, and around the altar to a heavy wooden door.

He pushes through it without hesitation, revealing the darkness hidden behind it. There is no pause in his steps, no glance back to make sure she's following him, the slack in the leash enough to tell him she's keeping pace with him. Not fighting.

Down the stairs, and with the door closing behind them they are swallowed up by the darkness.

Steadily he leads her forward, deeper under the church, through the darkness at the bottom of the stairs and into the hallway of dim and flickering light. Hard soles on stone and the occasional clink of metal on metal as the leash and the O-ring moves with them. Slowly, past alcove after arched alcove, candles flickering in holders on the wall at regular intervals.

It is about halfway down this hallway, leading her to another doorway hidden in darkness, that he stops and turns back to her. The hand holding the leash begins rotating, wrapping more and more of the chain around his hand, reeling her into him. More and more, links and links and links of chain taken in by his hand until it's up under her chin and he has her against him, his eyes on hers in the darkness. Moving forward, his lips find hers in a soft kiss, his eyes reopening to her as it's broken.

"On your knees, baby girl." His voice is a whisper, vanishing in the darkness just past them, words meant for her ears only. "Show me that you'll be a good girl tonight."

 

[Miss_Vivi]

She doesn't notice the scenery, she doesn't see any of it, that would require her to lift her eyes, to look up, she wants to but doesn't feel like it would be right. There is something about her submission that makes her quiet, focused and small. It's a vulnerable thing.

But she trusts him.

So she trails after him, admiring the lines of strength, his masculinity, and the way he moves. Her heels click after him and she smiles, almost content.

Very wrapped up in her own little world that she hardly notices it when he stops, and the leash goes taut as she is reeled into and against him. His lips find hers and she melts against him, wanting to touch, to demand him to free her from this, but she doesn't.

For once.
She wonders how long this will last.

The thought is as fleeting as the kiss.

"On your knees, baby girl. Show me that you'll be a good girl tonight."

The usual and ready protest leaps to her lips, ready to spring forth and rupture the silence and the moment that seems to cloak them in this candle lit hallway. But she kills it, suppressing that need to fight for now, with a new need. To please him.

Not that her fight doesn't please him.

In this instance however, she gives him something else, keeping her body close to his, she lowers her eyes and kneels, without a sound. Her dress rides up, and the leash and collar tug at her neck though his hand lowers with her, but she keeps her eyes downcast until she kneels completely.

When her shoes are off and she feels ready, she looks at him and grins. It's that impish grin of hers, the one that she uses when she knows that he wants something, and she'll give it as long as she wants it too.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Shadows seem to dance around them, dozens of half-hidden and flickering candles casting dim light in a thousand different directions. Her eyes are easy to find in that darkness by the reflection of light in them, and his gaze remains fixed on them as she lowers herself before him, the coiled leash in his hand making the steady descent with her.

His free hand moves to open the button on his jacket, letting it fall open, and then he bends at the waist, his lips on hers again for a moment. Pulling back just enough to look down into her face, and still his voice was low, a whisper that did not exist past her.

"Unzip me, baby girl. Please me."

Another soft, quick kiss was left on her lips, and then he straightened. His hand turned in the opposite direction it had a moment before, unwinding the leash from around it and giving her slack to move.

In the darkness, he watched her with silent eyes.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

They'd talked about this moment during construction of this place. Standing in this hallway, while she looked around dreamily and whispered little ideas in his ear, she was sure his attention was on the blueprints and yelling at the workers that grated on his nerves while construction ran interminably long.

She swore that he hadn't heard her. She would have promised this on a stack of bibles that he wasn't paying attention to her in that moment.

She should have known better. She should always know better.

That's not how he works.
That's how she finds herself on her knees, in this dancing light hallway, looking up at the man who she calls Daddy and he tells her in not so many words exactly what she told him that day.

She squirms under his gaze.
She squirms under his kiss.
She sighs softly, while biting her lip to keep from smiling.

Her eyes fasten to the zipper in front of her. Silently contemplating her next move, her bottom lip fastened between her teeth. Her hand reaches up to move the fabric that covers the zipper, but she does not unzip it, yet.

Sitting a little taller, she leans forward and uses her teeth to pull the zipper down, her eyes finding his while she slowly lowers it, one little click-zip at a time. When it finally is lowered, she does not use her hands, her nose nuzzling gently between the folds of clothing, till she finds what she is looking for.

He's already hard.

Which she loves, a soft whimper, pressed against him, her tongue dipping out to drag along his length, till she finds the head and gently teases him free of his clothing using her mouth and maybe just a little bit of her fingers.

Before wrapping red lips around him, she looks up at him and the shadows that dance around him, the only sound the wind moving through the building. She aims to change that, sliding him all the way into her mouth and down her throat, breathing past her need to gag, until her nose rests once more against his clothing. She swallows weakly, tightening around him.

And then she waits for him to break the silence.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Every few moments the light flickers in just the right way, and he can see the bottom lip caught between her teeth as she looks at him, contemplation etched on her shrouded features. He expects her hands to reach for him at any moment - just what it is she's contemplating he has no real idea - and so he's a bit surprised when she leans forward and catches her zipper with her teeth.

A grin finds his lips at this, a low chuckle at the surprise of it, but he is nonetheless a bit impressed when she manages to fully open the zipper. Expecting her hands again, he is once more surprised when she pushes her nose between parted clothing, and over the rustle of clothing he can hear her whimper. And he knows what it is for.

When her tongue finds him, his hips give an involuntary twitch forward. In the darkness he is unsure if her hands ever actually rise to help, but he knows more of the work is done by her mouth, and quickly he is freed from his trousers and captured between her lips. His breathing is heavier almost instantly, he throbs on her tongue, and in the darkness his eyes strain to watch as she descends his length.

Her nose is against him, he can feel her hot breath washing over his skin, and it is the swallow around him that pulls the first low groan from him, a sound that echoes off the stone around them.

"Fuck."

The word is spoken quietly, almost a whisper, but still there is enough for him to hear it come echoing back to him. He is not ready to relinquish his claim on her throat yet, and so he reaches, grabs the clip hooked to the ring on the collar, and he pulls. Her lips are around his base, his hips press forward, giving her every last centimeter of him, holding her there, groaning more loudly this time.

And then he releases, letting her back off of him, breathe, and ready herself for more.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

"Fuck"

The reverential silence is broken with one word, one that would likely be offered is breathless wonder several times this night.

She is pulled and placed tighter against him, her chest thrust against his thighs and part of her wants to place her hands against his hips to gain some measure of control. Her hands are placed behind her back.

She clenches them there, digging nails into her own palms while he presses his advantage past her lips, tongue and into the back of her throat which rages at her, wanting to push him out. Breathing, she tries to relax.

It feels like hours before he lets go and she pulls back with a ragged breath and a cough.

It's the barest moment before the chain is unyielding and pulling her back against him. She forces herself to keep her hands behind her back and accept it, which isn't easy when she sees the smile on his lips.

That all-knowing, I licked it, therefore mine smile. She whimpers around him, wanting to yell, or struggle, but he took that tonight, and once more she finds herself with her nose against the soft fabric of his pants, breathing his scent in with every breath, his cock throbbing against her tongue, while the wetness from her mouth slides past her lips and begins to trail down her chin.

Pleading moans now drip past her lips just like that line, before he relents and frees her.

Breath.
Cough.
"Daddy."
Breath.
Moan.
Gag.
Whimper.

And the silence descends once more, while she pleads with her lips and eyes to be freed from this, or for him to continue his assault.

Fuck.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Exhale.

For a moment her mouth is off of him, letting her breathe freely, an unseen string of saliva bridging the gap between the end of his cock and her bottom lip.

He claims her mouth, her lips, her tongue, her throat all over again, caring not if she can fight her gag reflex, but knowing that she will fight it. Whether she wants to or not.

The only sounds are the occasional whisper of wind down the length of the hall, her cough and ragged breathing as he allows her to have it, the wet struggle of her mouth to accommodate him, and the low groans drawn from him by the sheath he has turned her mouth into.

Another reprieve, and her voice breaks the routine of sounds, though whether it's a pleas for him to stop or simply a word because her mind is telling her she has to say something, he has no idea. He doesn't stop to consider, either, because this is not about what her mind or her body wants, about her need to breathe or the burning in her throat.

Here, now, she is on her knees for him. Her mouth is open, her throat open, for him. Often, his every move is designed to build things up for her. Now, he simply takes. He uses her, feeds on the gasp of breath she's allowed between each new fucking of her mouth.

And then, it is over suddenly, he is done with her here in this tunnel of darkness and dancing light. Not done with her entirely, no. There is much left to take from her tonight, much more she has to do for him. But here, now, he wants something else.

With his grip just below the ring of the collar, he pulls her off his cock one last time and then continues pushing, putting her back fully on her heels so that he may bend over and lower his face close to hers.

"Leave your shoes here," he says through the darkness, his voice low and dripping with his arousal, his need of and for her, "You won't need them anyway."

Straightening up, he tucks his hard and saliva-coated cock back into his trousers, though the shape of him is still quite evidence against the fabric.

"Crawl for me, baby girl." His voice is louder this time, echoing again off the stone, and then he turns and begins his progress anew, leading her deeper into the place of punishment and cleansing.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

Breathe...gag...breathe... inhale and gasp and cough... mess.. it repeated and repeated until she was just duplicating her behavior. There was no pleasure in this for her, and that's probably what made it pleasurable for her.

Fucking masochist.

She hated and adored him for this, and didn't fight his entry into her throat, just let him take and take from her, while gladly giving it up. Power games, always the aphrodisiac.

Until he was done, and then he ordered something of her but she didn't listen because all she could hear was his lust infused growl which slid down her body and landed between her legs, making her pulse quicken, his kiss further cleansing any thought from her brain. She was a hot mess and he hadn't actually touched her.

Damn him.

The words themselves became quite clear when he turned on his heel and headed down the hallway. She didn't want to leave her shoes, they were quite expensive, but she had no choice when the leash became tight and she was dragged a little, a squeak from her throat as she fought to keep up on her hands and knees.

There was no crawling in this dress.
It was up around her hips and steadily crawling up over her ass. She tried to pause to tug it back down, but he kept moving, and she couldn't really stop without being dragged. Of course her little whimpers and cries were ignored, not that she wanted him to turn around and see her in this mess.

Damn him.

Another pause, another tug, and when he finally stopped, she knelt upright and was busy dragging the bodice up and the skirt down and when she finally looked up, noticing that she wasn't being dragged, to meet his eyes, she noticed his smirk. She stopped mid tug on her bodice, grinning and blushing like a total idiot and not the effortlessly graceful submissive she sometimes wanted to be.

Dammit.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

She knew what he wanted, knew what was expected of her, and he was not about to stop and tell her how to make it happen. It was because of this that he ignored the tension in the leash, simply tightening his grip and dragging her along when it became taut, without a glance cast back in her direction as he did. Either she'd figure it out, or she'd leave this tunnel with far less skin on her knees than she had when she entered her.

It was at the doorway that he finally grew annoyed enough to stop and turn, and his head began a slow shake as he watched her. Her grin, visible even in the deeper darkness near the end of the hall, brought something of a chuckle to his lips, though exactly how much humor was actually in it was hard to say.

His jacket still open, he bent at the waist once more, his red tie hanging down between them as he did.

"Take it off. Right here. Now. And leave it. You can come back and get it after I'm done with you."

He straightened again, his hands moving to adjust the cuffs of his shirt before pausing midway through to look back to her, adding:

"Any hesitation, and I'll tear it off of you."

He finished the adjustment of his cuffs, and then his eyes returned to her, brows lifted.

Waiting.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

The smallest smile, and perhaps a chuckle. Still, she winced a little when he bent over, expecting the worst.

"Take it off. Right here. Now. And leave it. You can come back and get it after I'm done with you."

His voice was low and in that tone that left her with no room for wiggling. Literally.

"Any hesitation, and I'll tear it off of you."

She attempted to scramble to standing but the leash was too low for it to work well and she ended up bent over and pulling the dress down off her chest and hips. The pink strapless bustier and matching panties, stayed. She folded the dress carefully before setting it aside and kneeling quickly.

And finally exhaled.
He hadn't made it worse.
Well any worse.

She was sure she was going to fall out of the top of this bustier if she had to crawl much further.


Next time he asked her out, she was wearing armor.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

He was silent, leash held in his hand as he watched her, bent over and undressing in the darkness. The dress was carefully folded - clearly not an item she wanted torn off her, much to his pleasure as he rather wanted to see her in it again - and set aside. His eyes flickered past her, to where her shoes rested askew in the middle of the stone hallway, and he grinned a bit to himself.

Trail of breadcrumbs...

He didn't expect anyone to find them, she was the first to venture into Purgatory besides him, but certainly she didn't know that no one else would. It made him wonder how long it would take for that realization to dawn in her mind. Someone coming upon shoes, then a folded dress a few feet later was likely to expect something quite interesting at the end of the trail.

With a satisfied nod, he started to turn back and continue leading her deeper when he stopped.

The smirk returned slowly.

Leash in hand, he turned back to her once more, indicating what little she wore with a nod of his head.

"The rest of it, too."

If you're going to leave someone a trail, why not leave them an enticing one?

 

[Miss_Vivi]

They were off once more and she scrambled to keep up with him, eyeing her wayward and devious chest for signs of flying their confinement, when he stopped them once more and she looked up.

"The rest of it, too."

Apparently it didn't and wouldn't take much. Apparently it was going to be a little too easy for her to find that line where she was just not ready or done and for those two little letters to fall unbidden from her lips.

"No, Daddy."

She gasped after hearing her words, and then froze. Not sure whether to strip or to wait for him to react. Debating for a split second she knelt up and removed the bustier, her breasts tingling to be free of their captivity, and then sliding the panties down her hips and kicking them off. Both items were tossed aside quickly, while she kept her head down and hoped that he would react now.

Reacting now meant it was mostly over.
Reacting later meant it was going to be so much worse.

She hated it when he waited.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Their eyes met in the darkness, and his narrowed at her words, head tipping to the side just slightly. He hadn't expected the no, and from her gasp it seemed it surprised her a bit too. There was only a momentary hesitation before she was taking the rest off, and quickly her body was fully exposed to his gaze.

And ordinarily at this moment, he'd take a moment to let his eyes travel over every exposed curve. But this was a moment that called for something different.

A step towards her erased any distance between them, and he bent at the knees, crouching down to her level. The hand that held the leash dangled, forearm resting across his thigh, and with the empty hand he reached out to her, cupping her chin in his hand and keeping her face pointed to his.

"That was your one, baby girl. No more." His brows rose as he spoke to her, his eyes intent on her own despite the dancing shadows across their features. "I hear that word again from you after you're told to do something, and I will bathe this place in your screams tonight. Do you understand me, baby girl?"