The Emperor's Pleasure
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LitShark
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Djavan ignored her tears and screams as he drilled deep into her body, that rush of quick movement had caused her muscles to expand just slightly, enough to make Djavan’s motions pleasurable to them both. Her blood was being diluted by her pussy’s own lubrication. The relaxing of her muscles and added lubrication allowed him move still faster in and out of her tight pussy.
Stranger34
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Tallon's face, already ruddy, flushed in fury. So, his sister was in her bath, was she. He doubted it. This was exactly the sort of game that she delighted in playing with him, and one that was guaranteed to preciptate his flying into a rage.
"Farsiris - you have thirty heartbeats to get out here and speak to me!! If you don't, I will drag you out by your hair. Make it quickly!!"
He looked around, noticing the ornate decorations, the plush, deeply coloured rugs, the comfortable furniture, the little fountain, and his face twisted in disapproval. He disliked the trappings of luxury, he preferred to live a plainer, simpler life, too much comfort was soft, weak, and evidence of dishonesty and falsehood and shallowness, all attributes that he ascribed to his sister.
And yet, he was the one off guard, he was the one uncomfortable. This was Farsiris's world, and not his, he may have made a tactical mistake in coming here, rather than summoning her to see him. In his own environment, he would have felt far more sure-footed.
.....twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty........
"FARSIRIS!!! Out here now, or I will break down your door!"
"Farsiris - you have thirty heartbeats to get out here and speak to me!! If you don't, I will drag you out by your hair. Make it quickly!!"
He looked around, noticing the ornate decorations, the plush, deeply coloured rugs, the comfortable furniture, the little fountain, and his face twisted in disapproval. He disliked the trappings of luxury, he preferred to live a plainer, simpler life, too much comfort was soft, weak, and evidence of dishonesty and falsehood and shallowness, all attributes that he ascribed to his sister.
And yet, he was the one off guard, he was the one uncomfortable. This was Farsiris's world, and not his, he may have made a tactical mistake in coming here, rather than summoning her to see him. In his own environment, he would have felt far more sure-footed.
.....twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty........
"FARSIRIS!!! Out here now, or I will break down your door!"
impish_pixie
In the pink
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Farsiris
Even from her tub, she heard to pounding on the door that could only be one man. Tallon. Only her brother would make such a spectacle of himself… and her. Farsiris toyed with the idea of remaining in her bath, making him come to her but ultimately decided against it. The water was already cooling, and Tallon would think enough to draw out any conversation to either make her uncomfortable in the cold water or force her to confess her weakness in making a tactical error. No, better that is entertained among the silks and delicate objects of her quarters. Let him sit upon her soft cushions or pace across her silk rug.
"Farsiris - you have thirty heartbeats to get out here and speak to me!! If you don't, I will drag you out by your hair. Make it quickly!!"
Farsiris was already rising from the water but the wet marble was slippery and she would not rush. She took the hands of her slaves, as the guided her out of the tub. Once out of the water the flurry of activity began as her slaves tried to make her ready. She stood impatiently as one tried to towel her body dry, then shooed the girl away to slip into her robe. Besan put gold combs in her hair while another vainly ran a brush through the mass of curls.
"FARSIRIS!!! Out here now, or I will break down your door!"
She takes a deep, composing breath before stepping through the doorway, “There is no door, dear brother, nor is there any need to shout.”
The fine silk robe clings to her damp body like a second skin, outlining her perfect figure. Drops of water have created spots of near transparency on the delicate white silk, windows to the skin beneath. Her fiery hair hangs loosely down her back, held off her face by gold combs set with little jewels. As she walks, the length of her gown trails behind her, pulling open the front to reveal a slender leg with each step. Although her cheeks are flushed pink, she gives no indication of discomfort with his presence or her partial dishabille.
Entering the room she smiles at her brother, “Please forgive my dress, Tallon, I was not expecting company and your request sounded so… urgent.”
Walking up to him, she rests a newly manicured hand on his arm and waits for him to lower his cheek for her to kiss.
“Will you be staying for lunch?”
Even from her tub, she heard to pounding on the door that could only be one man. Tallon. Only her brother would make such a spectacle of himself… and her. Farsiris toyed with the idea of remaining in her bath, making him come to her but ultimately decided against it. The water was already cooling, and Tallon would think enough to draw out any conversation to either make her uncomfortable in the cold water or force her to confess her weakness in making a tactical error. No, better that is entertained among the silks and delicate objects of her quarters. Let him sit upon her soft cushions or pace across her silk rug.
"Farsiris - you have thirty heartbeats to get out here and speak to me!! If you don't, I will drag you out by your hair. Make it quickly!!"
Farsiris was already rising from the water but the wet marble was slippery and she would not rush. She took the hands of her slaves, as the guided her out of the tub. Once out of the water the flurry of activity began as her slaves tried to make her ready. She stood impatiently as one tried to towel her body dry, then shooed the girl away to slip into her robe. Besan put gold combs in her hair while another vainly ran a brush through the mass of curls.
"FARSIRIS!!! Out here now, or I will break down your door!"
She takes a deep, composing breath before stepping through the doorway, “There is no door, dear brother, nor is there any need to shout.”
The fine silk robe clings to her damp body like a second skin, outlining her perfect figure. Drops of water have created spots of near transparency on the delicate white silk, windows to the skin beneath. Her fiery hair hangs loosely down her back, held off her face by gold combs set with little jewels. As she walks, the length of her gown trails behind her, pulling open the front to reveal a slender leg with each step. Although her cheeks are flushed pink, she gives no indication of discomfort with his presence or her partial dishabille.
Entering the room she smiles at her brother, “Please forgive my dress, Tallon, I was not expecting company and your request sounded so… urgent.”
Walking up to him, she rests a newly manicured hand on his arm and waits for him to lower his cheek for her to kiss.
“Will you be staying for lunch?”
Darkness Falls
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Phallar
Phallar’s fingers remain inserted for a short time longer, pushing and probing the depths of Roses arse, seeking scars, or other tell tail signs of penetration. Finally satisfied, he removes the digits and not to inspect her sex again, he moves to a side board. Tipping a jug of steaming hot water into a basin, he washes his hands with slow, deliberate care.
After what seems an extra ordinarily long time, the former solder looks at his fingers, and nodding with satisfaction, he dries his powerful hands on a towel. Turning toward his desk, once more ready to sit down, the trainer glances at the still kneeling woman. He snaps “Rise to your feet now Rose, and dance for me.”
Phallar’s fingers remain inserted for a short time longer, pushing and probing the depths of Roses arse, seeking scars, or other tell tail signs of penetration. Finally satisfied, he removes the digits and not to inspect her sex again, he moves to a side board. Tipping a jug of steaming hot water into a basin, he washes his hands with slow, deliberate care.
After what seems an extra ordinarily long time, the former solder looks at his fingers, and nodding with satisfaction, he dries his powerful hands on a towel. Turning toward his desk, once more ready to sit down, the trainer glances at the still kneeling woman. He snaps “Rise to your feet now Rose, and dance for me.”
Mayu
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She slowly stood up and had no idea what to do, she closed her eyes for a moment, she heard a beat in her heart. walking around him, her ass shaking beautifully, and walked away, she grabbed the chair and twirled it so it was facing the wrong way.
touching her body as she sat down, and soon got right up on the chair, spreading her legs, moving her hips into the chair. Shaking her ass and her hips as she twirled around the seat, then sits right down spreading her legs, as she sits on the chair back wards taunting him with her backside, then moving her legs open and closed as she winked at him, she walked right up to him.
And stopped just a bit, she bends her back a bit as she moves her body, working it like she hadn't in a long time. moving her hips around and jumping just a little, moving her arms around, and flaunting her hips and butt as her hands were in front of her.
With a twirl she was done, she had put her whole heart in the dance, she hoped to impress him.
touching her body as she sat down, and soon got right up on the chair, spreading her legs, moving her hips into the chair. Shaking her ass and her hips as she twirled around the seat, then sits right down spreading her legs, as she sits on the chair back wards taunting him with her backside, then moving her legs open and closed as she winked at him, she walked right up to him.
And stopped just a bit, she bends her back a bit as she moves her body, working it like she hadn't in a long time. moving her hips around and jumping just a little, moving her arms around, and flaunting her hips and butt as her hands were in front of her.
With a twirl she was done, she had put her whole heart in the dance, she hoped to impress him.
Darkness Falls
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Phallar
With shocking suddenness, Phallar rises to his feet, and removes the leather jerkin he wears. Reaching up behind him, the tall warrior grasps the unadorned hilt of the sword which hangs upon the wall above him. With a rasp of steel upon leather, the gleaming blade is withdrawn from its scabbard, and the deadly tip hisses softly as it moves through the air directly toward Rose. Ice blue eyes flashing with anger, and lips curled into a sneer of contempt he growls “Watch and learn”
With fluid grace, the former solder steps out from behind his desk, and walks to the centre of the room. With the ease and grace born of years of training, he proceeds into a highly formalised pattern known only to the true sword master. Co-joined in symbiotic union, man and weapon enter into the age-old, and deadly form known as the dance of death.
The polished blade of the great sword glitters brilliantly as it moves rapidly within the shaft of sunlight offered by the open window. With his body shimmering with an ethereal glow, the hardened muscles of the tall warrior’s upper torso writhe and ripple like serpents beneath the taut, lightly tanned skin. Traversing the room with feline balance and agility; first one direction, and then another, Phallar’s blade swivels, and arcs with the cut, parry, and thrust of battle.
Tunning suddenly, he steps toward Rose and with death plastered across his lean visage, Phallar pivots his lithe body into a blindingly fast 360 degree turn, and bringing his sword up, he then strikes down toward the woman’s unprotected head.
The blade quivers bare millimetres from Roses’s scalp, and a tendril of brown hair drifts lazily to the floor. His voice, hard and ruthless, the teacher snarls “When you dance, you do not just bounce and jiggle your arse and tits like some tavern whore. You move with grace, and precision. Every thrust of hip, jut of breast, and arch of brow has a reason for being. Your aim is to attract attention, to create anticipation, to entice a man, and drive him mad with desire. You do not waste the gifts your body offers, by simply spreading your legs, but exploit them, and make them an object of desire” Withdrawing his blade, the Phallar turns his still blazing eyes away, and moves toward his desk “Now leave me Rose, and heed my words. I will summon you when I wish you to return”
With shocking suddenness, Phallar rises to his feet, and removes the leather jerkin he wears. Reaching up behind him, the tall warrior grasps the unadorned hilt of the sword which hangs upon the wall above him. With a rasp of steel upon leather, the gleaming blade is withdrawn from its scabbard, and the deadly tip hisses softly as it moves through the air directly toward Rose. Ice blue eyes flashing with anger, and lips curled into a sneer of contempt he growls “Watch and learn”
With fluid grace, the former solder steps out from behind his desk, and walks to the centre of the room. With the ease and grace born of years of training, he proceeds into a highly formalised pattern known only to the true sword master. Co-joined in symbiotic union, man and weapon enter into the age-old, and deadly form known as the dance of death.
The polished blade of the great sword glitters brilliantly as it moves rapidly within the shaft of sunlight offered by the open window. With his body shimmering with an ethereal glow, the hardened muscles of the tall warrior’s upper torso writhe and ripple like serpents beneath the taut, lightly tanned skin. Traversing the room with feline balance and agility; first one direction, and then another, Phallar’s blade swivels, and arcs with the cut, parry, and thrust of battle.
Tunning suddenly, he steps toward Rose and with death plastered across his lean visage, Phallar pivots his lithe body into a blindingly fast 360 degree turn, and bringing his sword up, he then strikes down toward the woman’s unprotected head.
The blade quivers bare millimetres from Roses’s scalp, and a tendril of brown hair drifts lazily to the floor. His voice, hard and ruthless, the teacher snarls “When you dance, you do not just bounce and jiggle your arse and tits like some tavern whore. You move with grace, and precision. Every thrust of hip, jut of breast, and arch of brow has a reason for being. Your aim is to attract attention, to create anticipation, to entice a man, and drive him mad with desire. You do not waste the gifts your body offers, by simply spreading your legs, but exploit them, and make them an object of desire” Withdrawing his blade, the Phallar turns his still blazing eyes away, and moves toward his desk “Now leave me Rose, and heed my words. I will summon you when I wish you to return”
Mayu
Ghost Of Who I Was
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Rose didn't move seeing this, she looked him dead in the eyes, she wasn't afraid of dying, she wasn't afraid of anything, she sighed some as he wasn't to happy with her, she didn't look at him and when he stopped the blade
inches from her she stared into his eyes, showing no fear, she was ready to
stop all this madness, when he pretty much told her to piss off she walked out and sighed as she went to her room, what did he expect her to do, she
had no damn idea how to dance. She waited patiently until he wanted her
again.
inches from her she stared into his eyes, showing no fear, she was ready to
stop all this madness, when he pretty much told her to piss off she walked out and sighed as she went to her room, what did he expect her to do, she
had no damn idea how to dance. She waited patiently until he wanted her
again.
Darkness Falls
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Phallar
Phallar, though he would never show it, was quite impressed with Rose’s lack of fear, and it almost seemed a pity to break her. But, as the door closes, he shakes his head with a growing irritation, and summons a slave. “She doesn’t understand” he muses quietly to himself “To stupid, or pig headed, and that damn sigh! If she does it again, I’ll beat her arse with a rod of willow”
As the slave quietly enters the teacher’s room, she kneels dutifully, and places her forehead upon the floor. Phallar watches her in silence for a moment, and considers taking to relieve some of the pent up tension which burns in his guts. Instead, he snaps “Go and find Tallon, and respectfully enquire if I may have a word with him”
Phallar, though he would never show it, was quite impressed with Rose’s lack of fear, and it almost seemed a pity to break her. But, as the door closes, he shakes his head with a growing irritation, and summons a slave. “She doesn’t understand” he muses quietly to himself “To stupid, or pig headed, and that damn sigh! If she does it again, I’ll beat her arse with a rod of willow”
As the slave quietly enters the teacher’s room, she kneels dutifully, and places her forehead upon the floor. Phallar watches her in silence for a moment, and considers taking to relieve some of the pent up tension which burns in his guts. Instead, he snaps “Go and find Tallon, and respectfully enquire if I may have a word with him”
Stranger34
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Tallon
Tallon stared at his sister for a moment, as she stepped gracefully towards him, and felt, as he always did, a small knot tightening itself in his stomach. She was beautiful, he could see that, could see why men fought over themselves and even, occasionally, killed each other just to have a taste of her. Flaming red hair down to her waist, fine, alabaster skin, the robe so artfully arranged......he tore his gaze away.
He would not allow her to see any weakness.........and when she placed her soft, delicate fingers on his arm, he brushed it away angrily, ignoring her proffered cheek.
"You ask whether I will stay for lunch!!?"
He began pacing, up and down across the plush carpet of her chambers.
"No, Farsiris, I will not be staying for lunch! You wish me to observe brotherly ritual, yet it is you that is bringing dishonour upon our family. No, do not interrupt! Count Haraman is a well-respected figure at the Court, and his wife has powerful friends, so why do you invite trouble for yourself by flaunting your dalliance with him??
You are becoming a laughing stock at Court, Farsiris, it is said that your legs are opened more frequently than the Main Thoroughfare Gates.
This is not funny, Farsiris!!"
Tallon's face was flushed a deep red, and the veins were standing out like ropes against his huge neck.
"Your reputation may mean nothing to you - after all, you did not have to work hard to earn it! But I had to work hard for mine, and I will not have you drag it into the gutter along with yours. Father spoilt you, he should have put you over his knee when you were younger, and taught you a thing or two about respect. He reserved all the harsh lessons for me, instead. But I tell you this - unless you start to control yourself, or at least begin behaving like an adult, and bcome more discreet about your affairs, I will do what Father should have done all those years ago, and put you over my knee myself!"
Tallon stopped his pacing, and stared directly at his sister, glaring at her with his deep jade green eyes, now almost black with fury.
Tallon stared at his sister for a moment, as she stepped gracefully towards him, and felt, as he always did, a small knot tightening itself in his stomach. She was beautiful, he could see that, could see why men fought over themselves and even, occasionally, killed each other just to have a taste of her. Flaming red hair down to her waist, fine, alabaster skin, the robe so artfully arranged......he tore his gaze away.
He would not allow her to see any weakness.........and when she placed her soft, delicate fingers on his arm, he brushed it away angrily, ignoring her proffered cheek.
"You ask whether I will stay for lunch!!?"
He began pacing, up and down across the plush carpet of her chambers.
"No, Farsiris, I will not be staying for lunch! You wish me to observe brotherly ritual, yet it is you that is bringing dishonour upon our family. No, do not interrupt! Count Haraman is a well-respected figure at the Court, and his wife has powerful friends, so why do you invite trouble for yourself by flaunting your dalliance with him??
You are becoming a laughing stock at Court, Farsiris, it is said that your legs are opened more frequently than the Main Thoroughfare Gates.
This is not funny, Farsiris!!"
Tallon's face was flushed a deep red, and the veins were standing out like ropes against his huge neck.
"Your reputation may mean nothing to you - after all, you did not have to work hard to earn it! But I had to work hard for mine, and I will not have you drag it into the gutter along with yours. Father spoilt you, he should have put you over his knee when you were younger, and taught you a thing or two about respect. He reserved all the harsh lessons for me, instead. But I tell you this - unless you start to control yourself, or at least begin behaving like an adult, and bcome more discreet about your affairs, I will do what Father should have done all those years ago, and put you over my knee myself!"
Tallon stopped his pacing, and stared directly at his sister, glaring at her with his deep jade green eyes, now almost black with fury.
LitShark
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emily123 said:
Emily continued to scream into the mattress as he fucked her. 'It has to be this way,' he told himself, 'If I show her kindness, she'll become accustomed or worse, fall in love. How horrible the road ahead might seem if she were to giver her heart to her trainer.' Djavan continued his all out assault on her pussy, slapping his balls repeatedly on her clit.
emily123
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I was in terrible pain as this brute of a man was getting faster and faster and more relentless and unforgiving with every stroke.
The pain had reached to a level where now i was unable to relax my muscles and they tightly clamp his cock but instead of slowing down it seemed to give him pleasure as hisstrokes now were even more deeper and i could feel his tip on my womb
The pain had reached to a level where now i was unable to relax my muscles and they tightly clamp his cock but instead of slowing down it seemed to give him pleasure as hisstrokes now were even more deeper and i could feel his tip on my womb
LitShark
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Djavan hated hurting Emily so, but the exquisite pleasure her body was bringing him was far to great to slow down. Her tight puss felt as though she was pulling him in with every thrust, milking him. Djavan felt his balls begin to churn slightly, indicating his orgasm was close. He held it back, and continued thrusting, he wanted to use his cum later, use it to humiliate her and teach her where she stood.
emily123
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I could not help but as Djavan thrusted more and more my muscles got more tensed and gripped his cock tighter inflicting more pain.
Soon he started to pinch and twist my nipples which sent another shiver through my spine. My whole body was on fire and drenched in pain
Soon he started to pinch and twist my nipples which sent another shiver through my spine. My whole body was on fire and drenched in pain
LitShark
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Djavan rolled the young girl over onto her side, lifting her right leg in the air. His fingers roughly pinched and twisted her nipples, making her writhe on his cock. His other hand came down forcefully with a loud clap onto your firm round ass.
"Take this dick slut. This is the first day of the rest of your life."
"Take this dick slut. This is the first day of the rest of your life."
LitShark
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Djavan can feel his balls twitching in his sack as he pumps faster still, giving in to the feeling of fucking Emily’s tight virgin pussy. His cock seemed to swell even larger as he buried himself into you fully with a grunt and lets loose burst after burst of his hot cum, blasting into you with tremendous force. There is so much, some even dribbles out around the base of his cock. He groans in pleasure.
emily123
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i cry out in agony as i feel you spray your hot cum inside me in enormous volumes andsme of it leaks out of my pussy sticking on my thighs and dribbling down to my arse crack.
i keep crying knowing you havefully violated me and have marked me by cumming inside me.
i keep crying knowing you havefully violated me and have marked me by cumming inside me.
impish_pixie
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Farsiris
Farsiris turns from her brother, hiding her hurt as Tallon pushes her away and refuses her kiss. Her pace is slow and graceful, allowing him to speak to her back as long as she dares while she composes her face, replacing her obvious emotions, with placid aloofness before she turns back to him and sits down on a low divan.
She listens closely while lifting her legs to recline amid the green and gold silks of her pillows. She half-turns to him as if giving him only partial attention while she adjusts the drape of her robe, the fall of her hair. She turns fully towards him, her eyes watch him pace, back and forth, across her rug, but they do not track him. They want to, they want to follow the powerful grace of his body as it moves, its energy barely restrained, its power so close to erupting.
Her mind wandered for but a moment.
“This is not funny, Farsiris!!"
She relaxes deeper into the silken comforts her body demands, but says nothing as he continues his diatribe. Experience has taught her the more anger he vents early the smoother the meeting will go. She listens, she has heard much of this before but he keeps her attention, she will not make the same error twice. Her chest tightens as he tries a new tack and it catches her by surprise. Before she can decide whether it is calculation on his part or a true element of his wrath, she feels her face redden and her breath come quicker.
Her emerald eyes flash with fury, only supreme effort and fingernails gripping into silk, keep her from flying off the divan to strike him with her bare fists. How could he! What does he know of Father! Father! How dare he bring up Father!
… and put you over my knee myself!"
Sinuously, like a snake positioning to strike, Farsiris rises from the divan. Her temper, super-heated above boiling, needs only the slightest stir to erupt it. With slow, controlled grace, she moves towards him, her emerald eyes never leaving his jade.
“Father?” She hisses, “…over my knee myself?” She stands so close to him that the combined heat of their anger warms the room seems to warm the room.
“You, what?" She tosses her head, "Do you wish Father had tried to make a man out of me as he tried to make a man out of you? Perhaps you would have preferred to spend your days, months, years, confined in the women’s quarters. You could have lived in a gilded cage, allowed to be nothing, allowed to learn nothing, allowed to do nothing. Nothing, nothing but wait. Wait for the day your father and you brother found someone to sell you to, someone who would pay in gold to use your flesh, whether you wished it or not.”
She lifts her chin and stands unconcerned that he towers over her or kill her with the flick of his wrist, “On that day, dear brother, you lost any rights you had over me. Now, I decide who touches me, not you.”
Farsiris turns from her brother, hiding her hurt as Tallon pushes her away and refuses her kiss. Her pace is slow and graceful, allowing him to speak to her back as long as she dares while she composes her face, replacing her obvious emotions, with placid aloofness before she turns back to him and sits down on a low divan.
She listens closely while lifting her legs to recline amid the green and gold silks of her pillows. She half-turns to him as if giving him only partial attention while she adjusts the drape of her robe, the fall of her hair. She turns fully towards him, her eyes watch him pace, back and forth, across her rug, but they do not track him. They want to, they want to follow the powerful grace of his body as it moves, its energy barely restrained, its power so close to erupting.
Her mind wandered for but a moment.
“This is not funny, Farsiris!!"
She relaxes deeper into the silken comforts her body demands, but says nothing as he continues his diatribe. Experience has taught her the more anger he vents early the smoother the meeting will go. She listens, she has heard much of this before but he keeps her attention, she will not make the same error twice. Her chest tightens as he tries a new tack and it catches her by surprise. Before she can decide whether it is calculation on his part or a true element of his wrath, she feels her face redden and her breath come quicker.
Her emerald eyes flash with fury, only supreme effort and fingernails gripping into silk, keep her from flying off the divan to strike him with her bare fists. How could he! What does he know of Father! Father! How dare he bring up Father!
… and put you over my knee myself!"
Sinuously, like a snake positioning to strike, Farsiris rises from the divan. Her temper, super-heated above boiling, needs only the slightest stir to erupt it. With slow, controlled grace, she moves towards him, her emerald eyes never leaving his jade.
“Father?” She hisses, “…over my knee myself?” She stands so close to him that the combined heat of their anger warms the room seems to warm the room.
“You, what?" She tosses her head, "Do you wish Father had tried to make a man out of me as he tried to make a man out of you? Perhaps you would have preferred to spend your days, months, years, confined in the women’s quarters. You could have lived in a gilded cage, allowed to be nothing, allowed to learn nothing, allowed to do nothing. Nothing, nothing but wait. Wait for the day your father and you brother found someone to sell you to, someone who would pay in gold to use your flesh, whether you wished it or not.”
She lifts her chin and stands unconcerned that he towers over her or kill her with the flick of his wrist, “On that day, dear brother, you lost any rights you had over me. Now, I decide who touches me, not you.”
Stranger34
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Tallon stared at her, momentarily lost for words. Not for the first time, his sister had an answer for everything he could throw at her. Gradually the veins in his neck softened, his face lost some of its dark, angry hue.
"That you should be bought, or sold, that is the Emperor's way. Are trying to punish me for following the laws laid down for as long as living memory will allow? You were always different, Farsiris, you always wanted to do things your own way."
He paused, looking around the room.
"I can see - can see you have done well for yourself. You have a husband, postition in the court, wealth. All a long way from the harshness of our upbringing. But you must remember that I, too, have come a long way. I cannot change the laws here. I am a soldier, not a polititian, and not an Emperor.
I do not wish to control who touches you, or who you touch. That is your affair. What I do wish you to do, is to stop flaunting your exploits around the Court. If I am to be a laughing stock, how will I command respect amongst others? It will not be long, before some young hothead will issue a challenge to fight me for my position in the Arena. I have fought hard, to maintain an aura of invincibilty, and you are stripping it away. Laugh at a man, and he is no longer so fearful. One challenge, two, three, I can see off - but for how long? Would you see your brother dead?"
Their eyes were locked now, both completely absorbed in each other's gaze.
Tallon continued, awkwardly.
"You are angry at me, because you feel you were to be sold. I cannot change that. But you were not sold. You escaped the fate of many others, in your position. Are you going to continue to punish me, for something that never happened?"
"That you should be bought, or sold, that is the Emperor's way. Are trying to punish me for following the laws laid down for as long as living memory will allow? You were always different, Farsiris, you always wanted to do things your own way."
He paused, looking around the room.
"I can see - can see you have done well for yourself. You have a husband, postition in the court, wealth. All a long way from the harshness of our upbringing. But you must remember that I, too, have come a long way. I cannot change the laws here. I am a soldier, not a polititian, and not an Emperor.
I do not wish to control who touches you, or who you touch. That is your affair. What I do wish you to do, is to stop flaunting your exploits around the Court. If I am to be a laughing stock, how will I command respect amongst others? It will not be long, before some young hothead will issue a challenge to fight me for my position in the Arena. I have fought hard, to maintain an aura of invincibilty, and you are stripping it away. Laugh at a man, and he is no longer so fearful. One challenge, two, three, I can see off - but for how long? Would you see your brother dead?"
Their eyes were locked now, both completely absorbed in each other's gaze.
Tallon continued, awkwardly.
"You are angry at me, because you feel you were to be sold. I cannot change that. But you were not sold. You escaped the fate of many others, in your position. Are you going to continue to punish me, for something that never happened?"
impish_pixie
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Farsiris
As her brother speaks, her anger cools then heats again. When he first entered her chambers, she was reacting to his anger; it fired hers, now his word drive her.
"You are angry at me, because you feel you were to be sold. I cannot change that. But you were not sold. You escaped the fate of many others, in your position. Are you going to continue to punish me, for something that never happened?"
She raises her hand, as if to slap him but before he can react, she flings herself away from him in a swirl of fiery hair and icy silks. Her ramrod straight back to him, she speaks in a tone as cold as Northern winters.
“I am discreet, I flaunt nothing, I am the prize men flaunt. How was I to know that fucking Tallon’s sister would become the latest fashion among the useless men of the court?”
“As for the rest, I don’t know where to begin, dear brother. Should I be thankful that the disgusting creature who paid to use me had the decency to die, quietly, in my bed? Should I be thankful that my family was so considerate of my wishes, knew them without even asking me, when they chose the man who would force his way into me, night after night?”
She turns back to him, standing so close she can feel his breath in her hair. Her gaze lock with his, fiery emerald and burning jade. Her cheeks burn red and her anger tinges her pale skin pink, her breath comes rapidly, lifting and dropping her chest sharply. She would try to control it but she can’t spare the energy, all her efforts are spent controlling actions, and her words…
“You look around and see what my unlamented husband left me when he died. You see it as if it was given to me but you are wrong. I earned it, every scrap of silk, every bit of gold, and every piece of jewelry, I paid for. I paid for it with my flesh, I earned it on my back, on my belly and on my knees.”
As her brother speaks, her anger cools then heats again. When he first entered her chambers, she was reacting to his anger; it fired hers, now his word drive her.
"You are angry at me, because you feel you were to be sold. I cannot change that. But you were not sold. You escaped the fate of many others, in your position. Are you going to continue to punish me, for something that never happened?"
She raises her hand, as if to slap him but before he can react, she flings herself away from him in a swirl of fiery hair and icy silks. Her ramrod straight back to him, she speaks in a tone as cold as Northern winters.
“I am discreet, I flaunt nothing, I am the prize men flaunt. How was I to know that fucking Tallon’s sister would become the latest fashion among the useless men of the court?”
“As for the rest, I don’t know where to begin, dear brother. Should I be thankful that the disgusting creature who paid to use me had the decency to die, quietly, in my bed? Should I be thankful that my family was so considerate of my wishes, knew them without even asking me, when they chose the man who would force his way into me, night after night?”
She turns back to him, standing so close she can feel his breath in her hair. Her gaze lock with his, fiery emerald and burning jade. Her cheeks burn red and her anger tinges her pale skin pink, her breath comes rapidly, lifting and dropping her chest sharply. She would try to control it but she can’t spare the energy, all her efforts are spent controlling actions, and her words…
“You look around and see what my unlamented husband left me when he died. You see it as if it was given to me but you are wrong. I earned it, every scrap of silk, every bit of gold, and every piece of jewelry, I paid for. I paid for it with my flesh, I earned it on my back, on my belly and on my knees.”
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Stranger34
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I paid for it with my flesh, I earned it on my back, on my belly and on my knees.” Today 07:06 AM
Despite himself, and to his intense annoyance, Tallon felt a single, searing flash of desire for the beautiful creature in front of him, with her back turned. Damn his sister!! She always did know how to get under his skin. They were like ice and fire, so different, and yet, so intensely connected, they simply could not escape each other. They would drive each other to ruin, or death, or both, before they could be rid of each other. Why did he keep coming back for more? He did not search too deeply for an answer to this question, though he asked it, in exasperation, many times.
"You talk of hardship! I would that my hardship could be exchanged for yours. You may have been pawed by insuitable men, in the soft comfort of a warm bed. I would that I could have been in your position, when I was eating dirt grubs in the cold winter of the Tal Mountains, or being flogged to an inch of my life by our father, to toughen me up!"
His own cheeks were flushed again now, matching the hue of hers. And still their eyes locked, in mortal struggle, neither yielding an inch to the other.
"You live in a different world to me, Farsiris, though we live not one hundred paces from one another. I was not aware that you had become a conquest, a prize to be fought over like the young dragons fight over their females in mating season. And you say this is because you are my sister? I do not believe this, Farisis. You make your own reputation - if you complain about the men boasting of their conquest of you, then change the men you are sleeping with. I warn you now - the next oaf I hear bragging about how good you are in bed, I will cut out his tongue, and feed it to the birds. And then I will boast, of the fate that befalls those who mock me, or a member of my family. Be warned!"
They stood there for a split second longer, the beautiful, flameheaded girl with the emerald eyes, and the huge, yet oddly graceful man, with the eyes of jade, the heat of their wills incandescent to any onlooker who might have chanced upon their meeting.
And then Tallon turned towards the door, his cheeks aflame, denying his sister the chance of reply.
Despite himself, and to his intense annoyance, Tallon felt a single, searing flash of desire for the beautiful creature in front of him, with her back turned. Damn his sister!! She always did know how to get under his skin. They were like ice and fire, so different, and yet, so intensely connected, they simply could not escape each other. They would drive each other to ruin, or death, or both, before they could be rid of each other. Why did he keep coming back for more? He did not search too deeply for an answer to this question, though he asked it, in exasperation, many times.
"You talk of hardship! I would that my hardship could be exchanged for yours. You may have been pawed by insuitable men, in the soft comfort of a warm bed. I would that I could have been in your position, when I was eating dirt grubs in the cold winter of the Tal Mountains, or being flogged to an inch of my life by our father, to toughen me up!"
His own cheeks were flushed again now, matching the hue of hers. And still their eyes locked, in mortal struggle, neither yielding an inch to the other.
"You live in a different world to me, Farsiris, though we live not one hundred paces from one another. I was not aware that you had become a conquest, a prize to be fought over like the young dragons fight over their females in mating season. And you say this is because you are my sister? I do not believe this, Farisis. You make your own reputation - if you complain about the men boasting of their conquest of you, then change the men you are sleeping with. I warn you now - the next oaf I hear bragging about how good you are in bed, I will cut out his tongue, and feed it to the birds. And then I will boast, of the fate that befalls those who mock me, or a member of my family. Be warned!"
They stood there for a split second longer, the beautiful, flameheaded girl with the emerald eyes, and the huge, yet oddly graceful man, with the eyes of jade, the heat of their wills incandescent to any onlooker who might have chanced upon their meeting.
And then Tallon turned towards the door, his cheeks aflame, denying his sister the chance of reply.
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impish_pixie
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Farsiris
She cools rapidly, as if plunged into the snow, as he reminds her of the difficulties he faced as a soldier, of his own troubles with father, but no, that doesn’t change anything, today is still today. She feels the smoldering embers of her wrath warm her again.
“Be warned!"
She will not break the gaze; she will not back down. He always ends with a threat and then storms out leaving nothing resolved. He digs the hole for her anger and then leaves her to burn in it alone. Fury rises in her chest, lightening her head and darkening her vision.
She stands, still for moment staring the place where he had been, and she spins, reaching for the crystal goblet left on the table. To release her anger, she throws it at the door in front of him and watches with satisfaction as it shatters to countless flying shards.
“Coward! Why must you always run?” She runs her fingers through her hair knocking the gold combs to the floor, “Why won’t you ever stay until the anger is gone and then talk to me.” With a frustrated gesture of hands, she turns and runs back to her room.
She cools rapidly, as if plunged into the snow, as he reminds her of the difficulties he faced as a soldier, of his own troubles with father, but no, that doesn’t change anything, today is still today. She feels the smoldering embers of her wrath warm her again.
“Be warned!"
She will not break the gaze; she will not back down. He always ends with a threat and then storms out leaving nothing resolved. He digs the hole for her anger and then leaves her to burn in it alone. Fury rises in her chest, lightening her head and darkening her vision.
She stands, still for moment staring the place where he had been, and she spins, reaching for the crystal goblet left on the table. To release her anger, she throws it at the door in front of him and watches with satisfaction as it shatters to countless flying shards.
“Coward! Why must you always run?” She runs her fingers through her hair knocking the gold combs to the floor, “Why won’t you ever stay until the anger is gone and then talk to me.” With a frustrated gesture of hands, she turns and runs back to her room.
Stranger34
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“Coward! Why must you always run?”
“Why won’t you ever stay until the anger is gone and then talk to me.”
Farsiris's words pierced Tallon, as he strode out of her room, pierced him more than anything else she had said. He knew she was right - he was not a man who habitually spent a great deal of time in self-reflection, but on this, he knew she was right.
It did always end like this - with at least one of them casting angry words over their shoulder as they turned to flee. And lately, it had always been Tallon doing the fleeing.
He was dimly aware that he was afraid, afraid of the depths of feeling that he kept for his sister. He rationalised it that he would leave before his rage became so great that he would hurt her, that he was leaving to keep her from harm, but that did not explain the occasional searing bursts of feeling he experienced towards her, that had little to do with anger, and seemed to be about something else entirely.
As usual, he turned his mind away from such thoughts, though they prickled and jabbed at some dark corner of his mind. He had failed, he had not resolved things with his sister, the problem still loomed as large and unpleasant as a giant sandworm. He had at least explained how he had felt, but that might just work as a spur to her, to flaunt herself further, to inflame him beyond measure. At least, when he was angry with her, he paid her attention - why did she want his attention? She had plenty of attention, all she could want and more, from all the men she attracted.........Tallon shook his head, trying to clear it.
He needed to forget about the situation, he needed release. Thoughts of the pretty captive girl swirled into his mind once more.........her skill, her delicacy, her instinctive empathy.......
Reaching his quarters, he was surprised to see a messenger standing outside.
"What is it?" he barked in irritation.
"Master Phallar requires a word with you, Sir," the messenger replied fearfully.
Phallar.......Tallon forced his mind to concentrate. What did one of his trainers want, to ask him to see them? This was most unusual, it was Tallon who would ask to see them, rather than the other way round.
"Tell him he can see me, but that it must be brief. And send a message to the captive girl in the bathouse, Shanti I think her name is, to come and see me directly afterwards."
The messenger nodded, and hurried away.
“Why won’t you ever stay until the anger is gone and then talk to me.”
Farsiris's words pierced Tallon, as he strode out of her room, pierced him more than anything else she had said. He knew she was right - he was not a man who habitually spent a great deal of time in self-reflection, but on this, he knew she was right.
It did always end like this - with at least one of them casting angry words over their shoulder as they turned to flee. And lately, it had always been Tallon doing the fleeing.
He was dimly aware that he was afraid, afraid of the depths of feeling that he kept for his sister. He rationalised it that he would leave before his rage became so great that he would hurt her, that he was leaving to keep her from harm, but that did not explain the occasional searing bursts of feeling he experienced towards her, that had little to do with anger, and seemed to be about something else entirely.
As usual, he turned his mind away from such thoughts, though they prickled and jabbed at some dark corner of his mind. He had failed, he had not resolved things with his sister, the problem still loomed as large and unpleasant as a giant sandworm. He had at least explained how he had felt, but that might just work as a spur to her, to flaunt herself further, to inflame him beyond measure. At least, when he was angry with her, he paid her attention - why did she want his attention? She had plenty of attention, all she could want and more, from all the men she attracted.........Tallon shook his head, trying to clear it.
He needed to forget about the situation, he needed release. Thoughts of the pretty captive girl swirled into his mind once more.........her skill, her delicacy, her instinctive empathy.......
Reaching his quarters, he was surprised to see a messenger standing outside.
"What is it?" he barked in irritation.
"Master Phallar requires a word with you, Sir," the messenger replied fearfully.
Phallar.......Tallon forced his mind to concentrate. What did one of his trainers want, to ask him to see them? This was most unusual, it was Tallon who would ask to see them, rather than the other way round.
"Tell him he can see me, but that it must be brief. And send a message to the captive girl in the bathouse, Shanti I think her name is, to come and see me directly afterwards."
The messenger nodded, and hurried away.
