The Dreamatorium

[Scuttle Buttin']

Simply a room.

A floor, four walls, a ceiling, a door.

No windows.

In those walls is a kind of magic, limited only by the depth of your imagination.

You can be anyone, anywhere, anywhen.

But you cannot freely enter. There is one key, held by one person, and he alone can permit entrance.

 

[Nina327]

10,000

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

10,000

Yes. Yes it was.

 

[Nina327]

Yes. Yes it was.

-golf clap-

 

[The_Spectre]

Uh oh

 

[DungeonsOfDread]

Does this tickle your fancy?

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Pretty boring for a Dreamatorium.

Just sayin'...

Maybe your dream power is running a little low!

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Well, you have to remember, I'm not very bright.

Maybe we just need to turn your knob.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

I'm sorry?

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

I'm just sayin'...knobs are special.

Just a twist will make you brighter!

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Simply a room.

A floor, four walls, a ceiling, a door.

No windows.

In those walls is a kind of magic, limited only by the depth of your imagination.

You can be anyone, anywhere, anywhen.

But you cannot freely enter. There is one key, held by one person, and he alone can permit entrance.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

finds it interesting that the owner of this slightly lack-luster Dreamatorium...if that is really what it is...thinks a need for a key can keep people out...

snicker

Appears inside the Dreamatorium, is suddenly by her side

I think, dearest heart, that he has a key much in the same way that you do for the Vortex.

Pushes her against the wall and whispers in her ear, almost urgently

Because it is his playground. Because the Vortex is yours.

Blinks. Finds her in a long flowing white gown, with a bowl of glass shards glowing under candlelight nearby, pulls her into my arms.

It is a safe space. One that he deserves as much as you do.

Gestures once more and the image fades and is replaced by a waterfall, to which we stand on the precipice of, I slip behind her, still holding her closely.

To which he also just cleaned up in preparation for a scene. But my love, you had to comment upon. Not that I'm surprised, you are as ever my goddess of chaos and lust.

Teeth slide down an exposed neck, followed by soft sighs, which dance over her ears. Another blink, and we are home, in the vortex.
This time, I am clad in a suit and she kneels before me clad only in a metal collar, attached to a leash which rests in my hands.

My love, he gets his key, and you get yours. I have keys to both. Shall I share them?

Leans down to kiss her, gently, sweetly and yet demanding all at once, another whisper against those deep red lips.

You have other places to be, my love. Places with me...

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

He was breathing hard.

A bit of sweat stood out on his brow.

His clothes were a little disheveled, red tie loosened, the tail of his shirt peeking out beneath the hem of his dark jacket.

His cock was hard, tenting charcoal grey slacks, an obvious collection of the blood that roared through his veins.

Blue-green eyes were focused on her, back to the wall, breasts on display, her skirt hiding the fullness of her backside that was decorated with angry red stripes, a by-product of the meeting between her skin the length of rattan in his hand.

Her full breasts rose and fell rapidly, deep breaths drawn in that mirrored his own. Each of them had the taste of the other's mouth on their lips, the ghost of the feeling of the other's arousal on their fingertips.

Off to his right, her left, a round end table was over on it's side, a broken glass and spilled dark liquor spread out away from the askew top. A single ice cube melted slowly in the middle of the puddle, as if somehow unaware of the heat that both of them so clearly felt in the room.

He grinned at her.

She grinned back.

His empty hand was held out to her, fingers outstretched.

"Another dance?"

 

[Miss_Vivi]

He had found her that night, all red lips and cleavage, another man hanging onto every word that she dropped. The place had been seedy. It wasn't so much that she had wanted to seek out other company, just that she needed a minute away. Red wine on her lips, stranger hanging onto her words, and then she was spun to find those gorgeous eyes on her, full of danger, warning and no small amount of lust.

He still found her, like she knew he would. He always did.

Even when the rattan cane, his favorite fucking toy, had swung across her back, it was less that there had been someone else there, because who cared about that, it was that she hadn't listened, hadn't stayed and didn't do as she was told. Especially when he wanted her too.

A reminder. A reminder of the rules, their agreements and enforced by a piece of rattan. She fucking hated that thing, and her back stung and agreed with that sentiment.

Her hand fit into his and she grinned as well.

"As long as you're ready to lose."

This part was easy, she slid into his arms and pushed. Ignoring all else till he was between her and the wall. One hand on the cane, keeping herself safe, another on his tie, tugging his lips down to hers in a breathless and deep kiss.

A paltry form of control, is still control. Or at least that's what she told herself .

Damn he tasted good.

 

[Britwitch]

It was the clatter of the table and the tinkle of glass that did it.
She probably wouldn't have found them so soon without that unexpected noise in the otherwise silent night. Eyes narrow slightly in the mirror and fingers stop fiddling with hair. She had thought she had the time to prepare. Apparently she'd thought wrong. Either that or he couldn't...

"Oh I bet he couldn't!"

A robe was tied around bare curves and equally bare feet padded out into the corridor. Heat and need and alcohol hit her as soon as she did.
Surveying the scene it was fairly obvious what had happened. She couldn't immediately work out if she was amused or irritated.

"...because waiting two minutes would have killed you?"

Her voice seemed oddly quiet but it did the trick. Eyes sparkled as bodies parted slightly, allowing her to look between their faces.
Arms fold over chest, enhancing the cleavage displayed within the deep 'v' of the dressing gown.

"That was one of my favourite glasses."

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

He moved opposite her when she was against him again, his steps carrying him back as hers moved her forward. A bit of breath was forced from him when his back met the wall, and he felt her hand close around the cane. His bicep tensed at the resistance, but he didn't stop her. For the moment.

Mouths were crushed together again as she pulled on his tie, her taste refreshed on his tongue. His hand released hers, arm around her waist, hand in the small of her back, pulling her body tighter to his. Somewhere in the room was the top she'd been wearing when he found her, but he couldn't in this moment remember where it had been dropped. It may also be ripped a bit.

The other man, whoever he was, ended up with a bit of a show before he was told to leave. How many of the stripes across her ass now were there before the door closed behind the other, he was also unsure of. More than a couple, though.

Between her lips, his tongue forced it's way into her mouth, sparred with her own. It seemed his every cell longed to go to war with hers. He began to move off the wall-

Another voice in the room severed the connection between them, a grin springing to life on his lips, and he opened his eyes to look at the new arrival. A single brow arched over eyes slightly glazed with need, and he surveyed her up and down. Hesitating more than a little at the enticing rise of cleavage.

Flicker to the red head against him.

Flicker back.

"I do get impatient now and then."

The cane was pulled free, waved in the direction of the newcomer.

"Come. We'll make it up to you."

 

[Miss_Vivi]

Alright, so she didn't exactly melt against him when their lips met, and she didn't whimper when his arm dragged across the newly acquired welts. Or at least that's what she was positively sure had happened before the kiss erased her memory and before they were stopped by a gorgeous and cross brunette who glared at them.

He looked sheepish and like he had his hands full.

She just laughed, a bubble of giggles forced from between her sensitive lips, hiding her face tight against his shirt while he waved the beautiful British toy over.

There might have been apology in there somewhere, cause it had been her careless movement that sent the glass and table flying, but when he's hellbent on her, she has to fight. The casualties lay dead and melting on the floor.

However, the laughter and the blush stopped any other words, though when the warm, slightly wet body joined theirs, she, of course, offered up some very apologetic kisses along exposed cleavage.

She was quite sorry.
Vi felt her apology was quite obvious.

 

[Britwitch]

There was a fleeting desire to pout, to turn and saunter away...but she knew she'd only be punishing herself. And she wasn't going to try and kid herself. After all, it was always so much more fun when someone else did the denying.

Slowly she approached, eyes roaming hungrily over the exposed flesh. She couldn't blame him, not really. She'd have been impatient too. So much fire and spice. She was positively mouthwatering.

Nudging him aside and looking over the red head, ruffled and all the more gorgeous for it, there was a pause.

Sighing, although she tried to stop it, at the kisses. There was remorse there, that was obvious. But she didn't want remorse. She wanted something else.

Her lips leant forwards, finding the column of a neck. Tasting, licking, hands pushing her back against the wall. Gently...but firmly.

She heard a movement behind and turned her head, eyes finding his. Words surprisingly firm.

"You. Don't move. It's my turn. At least for now..."

She knew 'now' wouldn't necessarily last long so she was determined to make the most of it.

A nibble of neck, a bite near the shoulder. Delectable didn't come close. Body pushed forwards, soft flesh pressing against equally soft flesh.

She almost wished she'd gone with him, but then the hunt was his game. He was far better at it. This was her game...different...but still so much fun.

Lips trailed across a shoulder, back and forth. Hands rising to the swells of chest against her own. Weighing, squeezing. One dropping between thighs and pressing slightly, rubbing.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

His eyes were nearly sea green as she joined them, and somehow it grew hotter in the room.

The cane, and the hand holding it, hung at his side. It would be used again, of that he had no doubt, but not quite yet. The music had changed, the dance was new, and he was shifting along with it.

Almost aimlessly, unmoored from any real point of focus, his eyes drifted among them. Their bodies somehow similar and yet, in others, strikingly different. He recalled the taste of the Witch's kiss, held it there in his mind for a moment, and then his tongue slipped out and stole the taste of his first dance partner off his lips.

Fucking intoxicating.

The warmth of the body against his was gone, and now her back was to the wall. Still his eyes drifted, trying to drink in as much detail as humanly possible.

He moved off the wall, his intended direction clear, but was stopped by stern words and dark eyes.

He grinned, inclining his head slightly to her.

His wrist rotated, pinwheeling the cane at his side as he watched.

After a short moment he turned away, crossed to the liquor cabinet, and poured himself a new drink. Perhaps this one would not suffer the same fate as the last.

Silent steps carried him to a high backed chair, and he sank into it. He was still quite hard, and under no illusion that it would be lessening anytime soon.

Over the rim of his glass, silent, observant eyes watched them. He drank the liquor, a poor substitute for that which he truly thirsted for. But the burn helped.

The tip of his tongue appeared, stole a drop of the cool liquid off his lips.

He watched. Hungry.

 

[Miss_Vivi]

A study in contrasts.
They had once discussed the contrasts between herself and the one who assaulted her senses now. Between the two women, one sugar, one spice. And together, everything nice. At least that was how the story went, but the contrast was between him and her. Two tempting tones with different beats.

He was all strength, power and denied pleasure till it was sweet enough to taste. She was all enticing warmth and shared pleasure and need.

It was into and against her Vi melted, not even bothering to fight, just pulling hips against hers and clinging to the curves that invited roaming hands. Soft, tiny, whimpers met by even softer lips, another moan met her ears, not sure if it was her own or belonging to the brunette that had so totally conquered her.

In this moment at least.

Sure, it took a moment for that resistance to find it's footing. For her to find her legs, what with wandering pinching, rubbing hands that weakened her will. But she did find it.

Looking over Brit's shoulder at a very hard man, another smile. Another tortured moan handed over as penance for broken glass.

And then it was her turn.

Music change.

She spun the woman in her arms around to face him. Untying the loose belt and sliding the already falling robe from her body. Vi's chest pushed against an exposed back, both of them arching together. One hand around a throat, the other leaving a red trail behind pink nails.

"Look at what you do to him."

The words are even, measured and whispered for both of them. They were equally guilty of his hunger, the cause of and solution to. But even an admittance of guilt wouldn't deter her, and she pushed both of them well into his grasp.

Well, one of them, anyway. No way she was going to be near when that cane whistled through the air once more. Her beautiful British lovely was surrendered to an angry and hungry god.

Vi, danced out of reach to her own soft giggles. She had no doubt that she'd be ordered or dragged back into the fray, soon. Her freedom granted her the minute she needed to find her ability to breathe, which hadn't been right since he'd found her and she'd kissed her.

Tempo change.

 

[Britwitch]

Brit was like a kid in a candy shop. There was simply too much that she wanted to taste, to slip between her lips, to feel. But alas she had only one mouth and two hands. So they were kept busy, very busy.

Stroking, fondling, pulling, teasing. Leaning more and more against Vi's sumptuous frame, starting to lose her grip on where she ended and the other began. Sounds a constant swirl around them. Soft and undeniably wanton.

Then the deliciousness was gone. Pinked face now faced him. She shivered as smooth fabric fluttered to the floor, useless, unwanted. A wave of tension as a hand curled around her throat and the nails of the other drew a quiet hiss from her lips.

There was a moment in which her mind wondered just how she always seemed to end up in this position...between them. And, more often than not, naked. But it was a fleeting moment as a carefully timed shove from Vi pushed her forwards and onto her knees before him.

Landing between spread legs, hands coming to rest on his thighs.
They're tense. Like the rest of him.
She's partly to blame for that but she's not the only one. And yet she's the only one on the floor, at his feet. So far, at least.

A glance back at Vi, watching her dance herself out of harm's way...for the moment.

"You don't really think this saves you, do you?"

A slightly playful smile as Brit turns back to him and runs her palms up his legs towards his body, shuffling a little closer on her knees.

"Your turn now...?"

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Another drink. Liquor held in his mouth for a moment, his tongue swimming in it.

Swallow.

Burn.

And then they were facing him. His head tipped just off center, a brow arched, his gaze fluid between the two of them. He could just hear the whisper between them, floating with the sound of their joined and ragged breathing.

His own seemed to catch in his throat for a moment as the robe was dropped, and she was revealed to him in her entirety.

It might, to an outsider, seem a strange thing. He sat, basically fully clothed, his suit loosened and rumpled here and there but still entirely on. They stood before him, the only piece of clothing between them a skirt that only one wore. To say he seemed overdressed would be a profound understatement.

And yet, there was something exceptionally arousing about it. It made him throb within the confines of fabric.

They approached. Curves and bare flesh swaying and moving and growing within his view.

A well-timed movement over her shoulder, and suddenly Brit was before him. Kneeling. Hands on his thighs. His gaze flickered, one to the other, back again. His focus torn, the one that touched him and the one that seemed to think she was getting away.

A voice gave him focus, drew him in, and his hands gripped tighter, one around a clear glass half-full of swirling liquid, the other around a straight piece of rattan that felt nearly to be an extension of him. Another appendage.

He nodded. His turn. Yes.

The glass is lifted to his lips, a long drink drawn in, swallowed, and then his arm lays along the length of the arm rest. The tumbler is held at the end of curled fingers.

"My turn."

His voice was low, a tone that said more than his words ever could.

"Make her want to come back and see what she's missing."

 

[Miss_Vivi]

A perfect row of white teeth sunk into a red lip, followed by an intake of breath and tingles sliding down a spine to land between her legs, where it made her weak. Wanting. She turned, crossing her arms. Crossing her legs, after finding a chair to watch them both from.

He'd used that tone. The one that was filled with lust and need, and the one sound she could never, ever deny. Even in her chair, squeezing her legs together she felt like crawling in next to Brit, to join her tongue with the other that would soon be sliding up and down hard flesh.

She resisted. How, she would never know.

Her focus was solely on a pert ass that moved as the woman did, her hands moving up and down tense thighs. She breathed, and squeezed her own thighs hoping for a measure of release from her own aching body. It didn't come.

He smirked.
She sighed.
Vi whimpered.

Oh fuck....

 

[Britwitch]

A glint in blue eyes, a glance back over her shoulder and then fingers went to work. Trousers undone, parted and firming flesh found. Pink lips were moistened. One last look up to his face.
"As you wish..."
No more words, not for now, now she used her mouth for another purpose.

Wet warmth embracing him, drawing him in. A sigh as fingers curled around the base and tongue went to work, trailing along skin, following veins, seeking those special spots that made it hard for him to sit still. The ones he tried to ignore. Especially at times like this, of that she was certain. Or at least, of that she hoped.

Another sound - a groan, louder this time, for Vivi's benefit as much as anything.
Dark hair trailed back and forth along his thigh while Brit took up the challenge readily. She would do whatever it took to get the flame haired beauty by her side. A palm cradled sacs, massaging. Cheeks hollowed, increasing the pressure around him. The other hand dipped between her own bare thighs, increasing the noises, her own movements. Hips rocking below, almost in time with her mouth.

Licking and sucking.
Tasting and teasing.
All to please.
Always to please.
Filling, over-filling, her mouth with him time and again.
Brit was nothing if not dedicated.

 

[Scuttle Buttin']

Heavy-lidded eyes watched her, his posture almost appearing relaxed were it not given away by the great vortex of tension she worked to uncover.

His hips pushed forward in the chair, body sinking lower, legs parting further for her. He watched her intently, lips parted, waiting. Ready. So very fucking ready.

Her lips on him sent his eyes rolling, his lids falling, his back arching. He didn't drop the glass, but some of the liquor contained within may have spilled as he shifted, moved, arched, responded.

"Fuck..."

He whispered the word, though exactly what he meant with it he was unsure. Nothing else seemed capable of coming out of his mouth right then. He was a beast of need, and her mouth only drove him on.

A groan from the mouth circled around his cock drew his eyes open, a slight nod from his head. His arms remained unmoving on the armrests of the chair. Goddammit, if she didn't look good there.

With some considerable effort, he pulled his eyes away from the sight of her and flung his gaze across the room. A grin touched on his lips as he met Vi's eyes. He knew he was using that tone with her, and she would know his doing so was entirely on purpose. And both of them knew why it was occasionally broken for a gasp or a low moan.

"Her mouth... is exquisite."

A pause, electric pleasure shifting his features for a moment.

"And doesn't she just look... fucking delicious? Look at those hips move... ah, fuck... I think she wants you over here. I think she wants you to taste her..."