Navigation Menu

[Bear]

Writing time difficult to find but taking a moment for some inspirational instrumental

Two Steps From Hell

The Enchantress

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6vCxBQy2SOk

[Bear]

Tha thump, tha thump tha thump

It was a heartbeat… strong… racing so fast in my chest I thought it would burst.

Tha thump, tha thump tha thump

Breathe.

That was my first thought.

I gasped, sucking air like a drowning man.

Spasms ripple throughout every muscle of my body. I was  rendered helpless in the moment. My mind a heavy cluster of cobweb thoughts.

I focused on what I could.

Breathe.

Tha thump, tha thump tha thump

Slow… steady.. regain control

At least I started stringing a train of thoughts now.

Relax

Breathe.

Tha thump,..        tha thump…    tha thump

I open my eyes but the world is blur, obscure in a halo of haze, …

Breathe.

Tha thump,..        tha thump…    tha thump

Focus on your senses,…

I hear snoring….

Baylis,… good…still asleep… I would be in a world of hurt if he woke to find me in this condition.

My eyes close again, it was best to defer distractions until I found some clarity of thought.

Like why am I in this condition?

Think,… Think….

Tha thump,..        tha thump…    tha thump

I blank my mind and let a chaotic string of images  filter thru as my heartbeat began a slow descent.

The was a woman,… nymph… sexy….yes… sexy…she lured me here…., magically?… thoughts stumble, grasp indiscriminately. No…no… a ring… shiny bright…she named it a stilling ring… severed the link to magic.

So how?

Damn,… how?

I drift in fresh memories…

Without magic?,… emphath,… telepath?… pision?… She was powerful,,, she had manipulated Baylis in his drunken state in a heartbeat,… manipulated me… intoxicated… yes weakened of will… it was her way in. The sliver of a crack to enter in my mind, root her control…to use me… For a purpose… Gods what!

Think,… think…

She made me dance to her will,… controlled me,… over and over,  peeling back the layers of what I was as my resolve weakened. Physically,…, mentally,… spiritually….magically .Coring me out until she found the only part of me which had not submitted to her will. The beast,… the lycan.. it was a part of my soul that stood to itself. Pure in its corruption,…  pure in its own will…. Pure in its motivation of actions.

Yes,… think she wanted you to say something… repeat it. What was it.

The words formed again in my mind.

“TELL ME! SAY IT!. YOU WANT TO BREED ME!” her trembling voice  rose in those memories.

Yeah…I was going to say it. Yes… yes…

Think you ass… you would have said anything… you wanted to cum.

Yes,…I would have said anything…and  just repeated…. without an edge of truth.

But the lycan, why the very essence away that controls it? It is what Aldaris taught me, my will that holds it in check, If that is gone, there is but the beast… with its animal instincts of survival,…to hunt,… kill,… feast

And propagate… the only part of me that would respond truthfully in that moment.

The lycans would have its memories, and though they were mine it was a place I dreaded approaching.  In the still dark of the night they would bubble to the consciousness, things that I had done in that rage after Aldaris’ death. Things that I had allowed to happen. Swallowing hard I lead myself again to that pit of memories.

What did I do?

I see a snippet,… a hand launching to Autumn’s throat. Shock, surprise at the ferocity written complete on her face. A twist and turn,… she is beneath it,… us… me. Her finger clenching the sheets… She shakes barely containing herself… fierce determination in her eyes as she barks something at him,…. Me

“Tell me…” She mouths certainly those words

That hand…holding her yet by the throat.

My hand… human…not the fierce claws…. Human….He could not transform… the stilling ring… the magic drawn in union within her,… the lycan was  severed from the magic necessary to transform

I have to admit all in all if this her plan… a clever woman she was.

I strained to hold into those thoughts and not drift careless into darker memories.

What… what then?

Closed eyes…. Dark…savoring the taking.

Damn… what did he feel?

Satisfaction… the joy of mating…the meteoric rise to the orgasm. Pride… at overcoming her. A flash eyes open snarling,… drooling,… boasting… in a growling, snarling hiss of words…

“Oh you are so right bitch, I will breed you.” The look on her face,… wide mouthed,… eyes rolled back
A sense of that orgasm releasing…. Whiteness.

Tension.

Whiteness?

Something overwhelming the mind,…Crashing on in so hard it shocked mind and body.

Magic,… that’s what it is….

Rushing in,…mine… hers swelling even more powerful until my  body  felt it could burst. A sharp pain on my abdomen…

Where she scratched…a rune?…. A ward…barrier…

AHHHHH… now that orgasm…. I bathed in the memories felt the fullness of magic burn in me until it collapsed and rushed into my loins, boiling over the flood of seed pulsing in release. The orgasm prolonged ,… intense,… every muscle in my body locked and clenched., then…. Nothing.

So I passed out…The orgasm of orgasms and I missed it.

I felt a puddle of envy and disappointment.

Something still seems wrong…. Incomplete?. I linger in that concern.

No Missing. She’s not in my head.  It’s just me….

I feel him gnawing there content,… pressing against the shackles. My dark companion.

The taint.

I don’t feel her.

I sense a body close… very near.

I DON’T FEEL HER!

Another flash of vision right before all goes white. Autumn… The look on her face,… wide mouthed,… eyes rolled back
My hand at her throat

My hand!

Fuck!

The kick of empty dread hits me.

FUCK!

WHAT HAVE I DONE?

[Bear]

want a little mood music to the latest installment?

Aracana
Wings of Gabriel

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDySgeN3l7A

Seductive and sinister instrumental… I wrote this section with this playing in the background

[Bear]

Her fingers drift slowly down my neck spreading to feather across sensuous zones there I never knew existed. Falling lower they tug at my jerkins ties, slowly pulling,…loosening the binds to drift there teasing, …taunting the nerves to inflame in that exotic tingle that swept me. My eyes closed and breaths fell into that shallow rhythm of excitement, obedient to her lead as she slowly lifted the jerkin, my arms rising instinctively as the soft leather slid up. Pulling slowly over my head, she stops, my eyes blinded by the leather and I feel her lips again breathing soft and close to mine.

I am transfixed as stone, incapable of moving, incapable of even forming a kiss to breach that miniscule distance that separates us. Within quicken breaths, my soul screams silently, begging for that touch, but she taunts my inability. The caress of her breath flirts slow, across my lips,  my cheek… along my jaw…returning slow to my lips where she lingers and I feel that first contact, not a kiss but a slight drag of her lip against mine. Again she circles, brushing slow in tracing her pattern.

Madness of need roots within me. Her touch is familiar, tugging in the depths of  my confused consciousness  She works down in almost a calculated pattern as her lips brush  across erogenous zones of my neck and collar that only an experienced lover would know of.  I find myself looking down at her, unaware of how I slipped the jerkin from my head. My hands reaching for her, but are  barred,.. frozen again from movement as the hang above her, .denied in their need of touch  Her breaths feel more intense as she explores my chest and the nymph brushes her fingers across the lattice of scars across my  chest.

I hear speak low as she studies them, traces them with finger tips.

“Such violence…the horrors,….” Her eyes following her fingers as they drift across them, never questioning, reading them like a book. I feel exposed, as if my own body betrays my secrets in some silent way. She looks at the  raking scars of the hellhound, quiet in reflection with eyes moistening as she seems to read the pain that propelled me into that confrontation. When she leans forward again to spill her breath against me I tremble deeper, shaking there under the power of her manipulation, the slightest whisper of a kiss drifts  along the white badge of my internal war. I am vaguely aware she is loosening my trousers,  my mind drifts in a zone of her enchantment., feeling the silent restraint, trembling helpless in my awakened desire. My pants fall to the floor and her touch is on me, pulling slow to stoke my desire.. To say my response was not my own would be a lie. Yet it felt alien, it felt imposed by her will.

She turns reaching for the slumbering form of Baylis. With the effort of a hefty push she rolls him from the bed to plop to the floor below. Baylis snorts, mumbles, but descends again into the snoring sleep of dreams. With her attention turned again I feel that pull, like a puppet on strings I am lead to lie down to the bed on my back.  She  slides slow across me as Baylis saws  in his deadened oblivion to our actions.

Settling back to her seat upon me Autumn with a promising lust filled gaze meeting my wanting eyes. She eases the ties of her diaphanous shift she still is adorned in, slow…seductive in reserved effort, letting the flimsy garment to slid deliciously from her to reveal the stunning body which laid behind the veils. Tight formed, with ample breasts sufficient for her lithe body she shimmered there naked in the caress of the flickering candlelight.

My breath is taken in that moment. I can only watch, tremble in anticipation as she reaches beneath her and draws my hardened shaft between us. Those delicate fingers rise to spread the flower of her sex, and I can see the sexual dew that glistens there as she settles upon me, wrapping those feathered lips about the length of my shaft. The nymph slides slow along me reaching down to my chest to steady herself Rocking, letting her eyes close as she savors the contact as she coats me in her juices. Quickened breaths escape her mouth, slightly parted with each laboring breath as she fans her gathering flaming desires.

I find a sliver of weakness in her will, and raise my head enough to eye her there skating on my cock, watching with eagerness as she grows ever closer in her action to my broad cap. Her eyes sight to mine, and I can read the gathering storm of lust building, so deep, penetrating. I shudder there, a brief instant sensing that that congealed desire burning radiant there is the same as how others have seen emulating from my own eyes.

Again Autumn shifts, rising slow after what seemed an eternity of contact. Her hand drifts to my throbbing cockhead and guides my dripping crown to her to the swelling juices of her core. My mouth waters, and I close my eyes, I want nothing more in the moment of existence than to feel that initial penetration,… to revel in that sweet first kiss of her thickened lips to my cock. Gratefully she gives it to me, a creeping contact which crawls slow letting me find that consumption of contact with the folds of her sex in the holiest of worship. I drool at the sensations, so wet, … slick… silken flesh stretching crushing the meaty crown of my cock as it enters, the slow descent as her pussy gapes to accept the bulk of my hardened shaft.

The nymphs nails dig into my chest as she squirms there feeding me deeper and deeper into her tightness. A slow seductive ride as the  fulfilling whimpers escape her at the bulk engaging her.  My breaths run slow and hard, in that moment I’d  eagerly worshiped forever which of the Gods who would have claimed this as my divined gift. Though it my be my ending, my sacrifice I wrap myself only in the moment of  its passing.She rides me slow sinking deeper and deeper onto the impalement of my manhood until I feel the depths of her press in resistance.

I open my eyes the slightest to watch her ride me with closed eyes her head thrown back as she is consumed in her grip of her own sensations. Her own eyes sliver into view, meeting mine as she catches my peak. Rolling deliciously upon me she leans forward bracing herself in that clawed grip as those divine lips again fall to linger tortuously close, then fall into bliss of contact of that first kiss. It is a kiss of passion moving upon my own lips, intimate in power…, long,…consuming,… the type of kiss that digs deep into the soul and yanks it forward for a response.

And I did.

My lips move against her, mouth parting to accept her entwining tongue. Reflecting to her the flare of desire she has ignited. It’s intensity buckles her will upon me, and my hands slide from the manacles of the imprisonment of her will to grip those hips still moving upon me.

Autumn breaks that kiss with that contact. Pushing herself back to mount my cock deeper into her. One hand clamps upon mine, the other rises to the cup and squeeze her breasts as she churns on me.

Her eyes sparkle as she looks down on me licking her lips. Again I feel that trapped ensnarement. It was as if she played that moment of allowance to reposition us. Not that I cared,…, if this was my last act… my trailing moments of life I would wash myself in the experience of its glory.

Watching her bounce there, watching my cock shimmer in the flooding juices escaping her it fueled my escalating excitement. I groaned and moaned, muscles tight frigid in ability to respond as she fucked me and sent me spiraling quick to the peak. Yet as I found the crest of the peak she grinds down tight upon me. I could not find it.. In that heartbeat her will pressed upon me and quashed the orgasm like a bug as her vagina squeezed my cock in choke.

I gasped shuddering from the command of her will.

In that stilled bond I could feel myself stuffed inside her. Feel the fullness, the ecstasy of of that stretch on the girth and tension on the clit. I could sense everything she felt, our bodies trembling in excitement,… and faint echoes  of my own senses which emulated from her. I could feel that she too had been close to orgasm, and only by her will had repressed it. We were melded in that moment, in fused by the power passion and desire.

And too… a strange cold press of something, a sense of dampening and isolation. I could not put my finger on it, not immediately, until it hit me.

I could not sense magic that flowed in my body. In that fusion I had fallen under the power of the stilling ring.

Yet she gave me no time to ponder, Her sex squeezed on me again over and over, then a rippling of contraction as she milked me. Again I trembled. Could I have moved I would have thrashed in those covers. I was though powerless to respond,  the exotic pull of her on me only allowed me to gasp in ecstasy. And with her eyes closed sensing the effect on me echoing to her she led us again to that peak, higher than before again blanketing the  the orgasm in her will.

We both panted in labored breaths, bodies shaking, quivering there as only her powerful will subdued the release. My mind screams for satisfaction. In the pits of my soul I could feel the primal frustration of the beast. The taint was rooted in the physical, rooted in the magic, and in the decades  it had rooted deep as a part of me. That taint, the power of the corrupted animal had burrowed its dark force into the very heart of my being. Denied its pleasure, denied its binds to the magic it raged, chained and shackled to suffer the torment. Over and over she drove us there to that edge Riding me harder and with each pinnaclled breaching cliff seemingly higher than before.

Each time she imposed her will the beast raged, and each pressing suppression took more and more effort as her own will strained to subdue us. My hips roll now under her, churning as she has allowed me that splendor to fuck back at her thrashing ride. Yet the fury of the beast grew as it thrashed at its imprisonment pressing back with its own will.

She led us to a precipice of heights all seemed ethereal. Our bodies and souls fused beyond the laws of the world. Within that temporal place,  there, our magic founds its freedom. Severed of control magic seeks itself,  coalescence  in unity. I could sense the tendrils of it spread throughout body seeking its merger. Spreading, growing finding that channel of  our union to funnel. My body shuddered as if in orgasm as it weaved through my loins  into her. I could feel it meeting hers within the womb, pooling and growing, entwining as our powers weaved together. I feel her shudder in her response  to the exquisite melding.

We were at this point a singularity, lost completely in the timeless passion of the cosmos.

Autumn spoke low to me as we wavered on that edge of brilliant release.

“Tell me you want to cum…” The press of the nymphs will smothers me.

Yes, yes my mind screamed… I do not know if I answered aloud. Just let me do it.

The press of will again. “Tell me you want to empty  your seed into this tight wet pussy”

“YES”… the beast within yanked hard within its confines. The harder she pressed the fiercer it fought back.

I could feel her finger press against my abdomen,  quaking it dug sharp into my skin flowing as she traced a pattern hard into my skin. Her will again dug deep.

“Tell me you want to breed me”

“YESSSSSS”

“NO! TELL ME! SAY IT. YOU WANT TO BREED ME”  She pressed deep into my soul.

She pressed too far… too hard. Shredding into the soul with the weight of her  words until all that remained was the will of the beast. She startled in its discovery.

And more so at its response.

The beast shattered its shackles.

[Bear]

I looked at my car clock this morning and realized that having forgotten to set it back in the fall… it was finally correct!

Procrastination works…

[Bear]

Gothic Storm – We Meet In Dreams

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2XPC1CRRirA

[Bear]

I unceremoniously dump Baylis onto the big feathered mattress of the bed in his room. It puffs swollen under the impact, then slowly flattens as if exhaling. The satyr snorts, clearing its throat then shifts rocking slight as if to nest onto the covers. I hold my breath there, uncertain enough of Angus’ taunted brew will keep him sedated. The darkness of the room is broken as the nymph lights a candle.

I turn to her as she approaches the bed. Within the soft candlelight I am taken by her beauty. She looks up to me with that expression one gives a close familiar friend. A warmth of a smile, eyes that seem to twinkle in happiness of seeing a long lost acquaintance. I take in that lovely look, sensing a calmness envelope me tighter than before. I shiver slight at its familiarity letting my eyes drift lower to that metal collar about her neck, the metal shimmers slight in its magic, and  holds a slight hue of color… a bluish silver that lies quiet as if muted.

“You know what this is don’t you?”  she says weighing my attention..  Her eyes glanced up and registered the emptiness of admittance in my eyes. She pauses waiting for an answer not to come. “It is a  stilling ring,…, It binds the magic within. Renders the captive incapable of acting on their magic. I can neither cast, nor willingly summon any use of it.” I watch her eyes roll ponderingly,  “It has a benefit too, it renders me immune to the magic of others. Yet I cannot deny how frustrating it is to still feel the glowing sense within, yet be denied the simplest of tapping.”

I was definitely curious, I reached out and nymph bends her neck slightly, offering me exposure to the gracious curve of  the slender lines to confirm such myself. I brushed my fingers slow along the collar, the touch of metal was cold, dampening to the senses. My fingertips have that feeling of dullness, a mull of coldness upon my skin where it brushes against the metal. My fingers trail off it grazing her skin, and I feel the vibrancy of her warmth within, a striking contrast between metal and flesh. Her eyes closed, and body trembled slightly as my fingers drift brief along the silk of her lovely neck. Her breaths deepened, and I needed no insight to simply registrar the excitement that briefest of touch rose in her.

It was a lingering tempting thought. I swallowed hard, shifting my thoughts to my original intent. I was uncertain how I could free her.

The plan so hastily crafted had come to fruit. It was never about pursing her for my pleasure, as strange as it seemed my motivations for once were borne on noble wings. Nymphs are creature of the wild, nourished on the elemental magic of the land they inhabit. Denied that they wither within, the spirit fades. is lost until all that remains is an empty husk of beauty. Even that beauty shall fade if denied the fruit of the source of their magic.

I had seen such within the slave pits of Galathain, a nymph so empty she was soulless animate shell serving the sexual pleasure of her captures. I had held my hand then driven by my vengeance and the pull of the taint. In that tainted lust,  I had used her, felt the emptiness inside, as I satisfied myself,…yet stayed my hand. on a pretext that her owner could lead me further on my quest. I felt that shame, it was an alien guilt of consciousness that  burned within my soul for months..

Now I stand here feeling a chance of redemption, the taint does not distract me from doing what is right. I feel nothing of it. That fact amazes me, though  the moon is waning  and I  should still feel a pull, no matter how slight until it disappears like the moon into the shadow. Only in the new moon do I breath free of it. Yet here I am, calm in the peace of mind, its gone beyond speculation,.. I know…. she is in some form responsible for that.

Knowing her fate is likely that of the husk I used before, I feel a sense of responsibility…  that alien sense of consciousness, even if it is but a single fiber of morality, it still exists in me. She and I are bound by fae magic, and as I must stand in eradicating the taint of lycans from the land, I understand that I should never allow another who shares the source of my magic to suffer as that slave in the pits of Galathain did.

I lift the chain wrist dangling from the wrap of her wrist., it appears fragile, delicate in construction,  light of feel to touch and holds too with much the same dampening effect as the collar. Muted dull,  as if to hide its basic properties.. Wrapping it in my fingers I give it  a powerful jerk. Even though in that touch I know that such action is futile. I feel the magic imbued within it tickle against my skin. The chain holds solid.

“Your efforts will be of no avail.” She says. There is a heavy frankness of truth in her speech before adding…”Mithril…. like my collar. They are maker bound”

I fume at the predicament. Maker bound, only the one who sets and binds it has the power to release it. If Baylis chose to he could brush his fingers across the collar and it would fall from her. My mind churns off in a different direction., sorting thru other options/

“A sorcerer then,… we could easily find one capable enough to break the spell.”

“Not enough time.” She retorts. “There’s not enough time, he will waken soon enough”  The tone in her voice carried no hint of resignation. It carried itself as a simple fact of recognition of the truth and something more which in the moment I strangely felt this ring served a purpose.

I glance to the nymph as she moves from me to circumvent about the bed, raising the chain to avoid entanglement with the bedposts. She moves smoothly in natural refined grace, eyes set on me leaving me with a sense that she assesses and measures me to some standard . She slides onto the opposite side of the bed and brushes back her raven hair exposing the collar of silver blue. There was a flatness to the shine,  and if I focused hard enough, the tale tell shimmer of magic about it.

I grunted very much with growing annoyance. Even though I knew better I drew out my heavy hunting knife out of frustration and folded  the chain over it. This cannot be… I keep telling myself. Not now,…not now. Gods help me find a way. Another sign the taint has lifted, I rarely invoke a prayer of help from those who the rest of the month leave me in a sense of abandonment.

“It won’t work.” She chirped, it seemed she was almost cheerfully baiting me.

Which was true,… I knew even before I attempted the futility of sawing at it with my blade.  Baylis snorted, flopping onto his back and the chain pulls from the relaxed grip of my fingers. A whiff of Baylis’ ale soaked hide drifts to me. Its distinct scent fills me, the mixture of ale, and perspiration from his exploits unique and pungent, the heavy scent of sexual juices..

The nymph giggled  at my expression as I shoved my knife back in its sheathe and froze..

And time seems to halt.

How often do we feel that sixth sense kick in, triggered by the senses,  a place, or subtle action, a word spoken  in the right tone, or the feel of light within a room, where time feels like it has overlapped itself,, the instant and moment when you feel you have breathed this moment before. That sense of déjà vu fell on me, the familiarity of patterns of life being revisited. I could not shake that feeling that I have lived this moment, more than once.

I glanced to the woman, watch as she slides her foot onto the bed. As she leans forward her delicate fingers seemed to glide along those long sensual legs to unlace the ankle straps of her sandal. She smiled coyly as her fingers drifted along her leg as it lifted to allow the sandal to fall free. She knew I loved watching her undress.

Dammit,… these invading thoughts.

She turned slight to reach for the other sandal. Lifting her leg slightly, she twists slight, steadying herself with one hand to the bed. The posture tightening the flimsy veil of a shift upon her, causing her breasts to press molded taunt in the silk and clearly expose the nipple jutting against the fabric. My heart flutters at that sight of her in the candlelight. Her eyes darted quick to me and retreated, and I could read the satisfied smile in confirming I was watching.

I understood the invitation of seduction there. Far too well…like every expression of her face, the look in her eyes they were familiar patterns that seemed to be engrained in my memory.

“Yet you do not recognize me do you Bear?”

I froze at the sound of my name. Warningly eying her, “As you name me.“ I respond in proper acknowledgment of the name. “You know of me then?”

“I know you.”

“You mean you have heard of me. In tavern talk… gossip..”

She cut me off, the tinge of annoyance in her tone. “I… know …you”

I shake my head  as I creep closer,  I am leery of getting closer but can not restrain myself. I have this dreading sense of being a moth bewitched  into the flame.. That gnawing sense of reliving not just an instant, now seems to swell of this whole conversation

“Nay,… nay. We have not met. I would not forget the likes of one such as you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment” Her face skews , lips twisting slightly as  one half folds under her teeth like she always does when she is perplexed. I immediately silently question myself how I knew this “You really do not remember me then. I guess I should not be surprised of that. You are consumed in your vengeance,… your thoughts always constrained by the constant pull of the taint,…You fight,.. you drink,… you fornicate… a cyclic struggle which no doubt represses your memory..”

My heart dropped at her mention of the taint. Let alone verbatim repetition of the boast of a tag I often blustered when the touch of drink was upon me. Yet I have to admit in all that dread. I did have the briefest of wonder of how someone can make the word “fornicate” sound cheery like a whimsical dance.

Yet, as my thoughts again twist on how my secret dread of being so openly exposed. I heard her say  “Autumn”

I looked at her, quite confused and saw her expression dipping into quiet regard. Her face reads plainly of a concern that her words had transgressed too far.

“I am called Autumn.” She lifts a hand towards me, beckoning. “Come.” She coos. “We have so little time.”

I nodded knowing this was but a shell of her true name, one does not give that much power to a total stranger. No doubt I must have given a sense of being utterly dense at that point in my thoughts. I respond to her like an obedient dog, barely managing to mutter the proper greeting response as I approach around the bed. “Then I name thee Autumn” That I repeated the statement softly no doubt revealing my inner turmoil of confusion.

She rose slightly, looking up with doe eyed concern as I towered over her. Her hand reached out  cupping my face with her delicate fingers, a touch that rendered me immobile. I was locked, gazing  into eyes that seem to speak volumes. This close, this personal ….I could feel their depth,… a sense of antiquity in them that belied her youthful appearance, and too that penetrating sense as those eyes peered deep inside my own. The mirror of the soul is found in eyes, I felt the pressure of her stare, the burrowing look as she stripped away the layers of disguise within me. I could not help but feel the raw exposure of my soul standing naked before her, almost in shame she would find that dark secret of the nymphs abandonment…

I was bewitched, incapable of tearing myself from them. My heart was racing,… though my breaths short drawn slow. I seldom feel fear, but I did now as it joins in the feast with me confusion,  gnawing,  creeping in the depths of my helplessness. She had claimed her magic was nullified, yet it’s clear I am not in control of myself. What was she? Who was she?

Since that first look, I could feel her… feel her will upon me. I had carelessly disregarded that smothering quell of the taint and let blind curiosity draw me into this. Curiosity …guilt,.. the strike of a thread of fear,…was I lured here,…  powerless to resist. My breaths quicken as the mind races with growing entanglement I fear I face a monster who preys on my weakness of lust..

Where she touches,  my skin seemed a glow in life, a warmth that radiates and pierces soothingly deeper beneath the leathered hide of my wind toughened skin. I tingled all over, feeling that glowing radiance that spread through my body. Is this the touch of a monster, a demon,… a witch? So soothing, relaxing… my mind swirls in that vortex of overwhelming confusion.

I could hear her speak, …soft… soothingly.  “We have met,. Many times” It was a statement of absolute conviction, I knew it true.

My memories still denied  it. Silent screams echo in the turmoil of thoughts and trembling excitement,  barely manifest in a  mutter of reply.
“Where?….How?”

She drew her face closer to mine lips nearly touching as her head tilted slightly, again weighing… appraising. I felt utterly ensnared in her net of seduction. Helpless…yet never so alive in such a moment,… shivering… the fine hairs of my body standing alert  in anticipation of each sweet breath to caress against my lips.

Her voice dropped to complete hush of a whisper. “In our dreams,…. We meet in our dreams.”

[Bear]

Yes Kait,  I am trying to inspire a new genre of Suds and Sorcery. 

[Bear]

Baylis  was too busy tipping the tankard down his neck and the potent pleasure of the wet mouth on his huge cock.

He hadnt seen it. I mutter a muted, “Thank you Pan”  My eyes drifted downwards as I breathed through my brief prayer and sigh of relief.

The attentive male between the satyrs legs looks a bit flustered. His hand worked frantically along the drooping massive phallus.

I had to smile in that moment, noting the best barometer I held here of Baylis’s condition was the erective strength of his manhood. Well I imagine that his slab of pride had never been eyed so intently for its flaccidity before.

Baylis casts me a wary look eying my half filled tankard. I feign my scowl,…

“Cheat!… he has tried to slip his lesser brew upon me.” I throw down the tankard and buttress my stance as I glare at the bar. Shouting,… “I expect better than this…this swill!”

“To Swill!”

The satyr’s  toast catches me off guard. Baylis drains his tankard, eagerly… very eagerly and his bobbing head as he wipes his mouth afterwards tells me we are close. Hurry Angus. A quick glance to the bar and I find my dread. Angus is bent too purposely, carefully eyeing brew as he refills a tankard. Sips a little, fills a little more, drains a partially filled tankard, and turns swaying awkwardly. Nearly falling as he anchors himself to the bar.

I twist to Baylis and shove my remaining tankard to him. “Ah the next round!”

“Already?” He looks up confused “I never saw that dwarf….”

“My rebuke has him scurrying, fast and furious…Drink!… Drink!”

His eyes drift haphazardly over me. The tankard at his lips as he pauses “Where’s yours.?”

“Drank! Finished!… I am waiting on you!” I embellish a wave over the tankards scattered about us.

He puffs his cheeks,… almost reluctantly lifting the brew in stubborn pride not to be outdone.. I take the chance and glance to the nymph.

“Eyes to me!” The Satyr slurred his command just before the extra brew hit him and his addled brain, it tipped him over and finally he slumped into drunken wonder, beaten for now.

I turned my eyes to him as instructed at the same time. For a brief instant the warning glare had flared but dissolved in a wisp as the effect of alcohol hit him. His erection was gone, the spell broken. The aroused man servicing him was disappointed but then turned to another close by. Their needs and goals now, to service their own pleasures. Their lust too great to care who worked on who. All the seeming mass were the same.

Baylis murmured in his, confused, drunken stupor. “What is happening?”

“Shhhushhh” injected the  nymph in a steady tone. Her eyes were locked to Baylis. “Look at me Baylis. Look at me

Baylis nods slowly as his head lurches about to her. “But for this… I would have had you long ago. Such a choice morsel…” His voice hisses,…it’s amazing the clarity of truth in those slurred words.

“Yes Baylis,” she coos.. “And your reward shall come soon enough”  She reaches for him  Her small delicate fingers cup his cheek., stroking slow.

“You have done magnificently this night. Perfection,… but now its time to rest… to gain your strength for your greatest performance.”

“Performance?”,  my question barely slipping from my lips when she signals my silence.

“It’s time to rest master…to sleep…to sleep..” The soothing tone towards the satyr of her voice is infectious. As she repeats my eyelids flutter with fatigue.

Baylis mutters in a weakening tone of mimicry “Sleep… yes sleep. … “ I can feel his lids sink slow, the droop of his head bouncing down in silent compliance. Mine was too.

When Baylis finally nods off I feel the lift of the burden in the moment, my half closed eyes drift to the nymph who already rises  in slow calm. It’s surreal how she moves, a graceful glide of pose as she lifts herself.. regally, though collared and chain her movements suggest  of station no chains could ever subdue.  In the chaos of this room she alone seems to move within a bubble of controlled contentment.

“It’s about time.I had told you that it took all my patience to let you do what you must. To direct  his focus of things to come upon you.”
Even in the alcohol fuel dullness of my mind I caught that odd twist of her words. She spoke in a tense of past and futire, blurred in a strange entanglement of the present.

Yet those  words flow with a voice of sweet tone that dances in excited anticipation. Those enchanting emerald eyes settle on me again as she reaches down to Baylis. I can feel them press again, a clarity sweeps upon me lifting the groggy veil that had nearly taken me. There too, a sense of satisfaction as if this outcome was fully expected.  “We must  move quick,.. upstairs where prying eyes are less likely to see what must be done.”

I glance about at the mass still consumed within itself. The male rises again from the sea of flexh, his eyes locked to the nymph. I had to concur..

She is right, the audiance  feed yet upon their own lust,  her untouched presence would only cause the mass to attempt in pulling such a lovely creature into their passion. To linger here merely invites trouble of defending her.  Yet, I am taken somewhat of her presumption of my purpose, as if she mistakenly reads my underlying purpose. With a foot to the predatory lust filled male’s chest I nudge him off balanced and back into the consumption of waiting flesh..

I shake the fatigue off, my eyes steadying on her. “What performance were you speaking of..”

“Later… we talk of this later. We need to move from here. Baylis and I  have a room, it will suffice for our needs.” She speaks quickly bending to pull one arm of Baylis over her shoulder, a futile effort to lift the bulk and deadweight of the satyr up.

I had to grin at how she always overestimated her physical strength. She was so powerful in other ways, that she often made that careless assumption.

It was an odd stray thought. …

So unexpected,.. but familiar. Her urging though pushed it aside.

She gathers the thin chain and tugs on the satyrs hand binding her to him.

“Now,..” there is commanding tone in her voice that none could resist in that moment.

I grunt, Baylis is too bulky for my tastes to lift and lug, and in his condition, I have other options other than to rub his foul smell of alcohol and sweat over me carrying him. I reach down and clamp to his ankle  and turn dragging him rudely from his performing throne. His thick fur slides easily on the floor as we navigate to the bar and stairs beyond., the nymph by my side carefully stepping over prostrate forms I take no such care and  plow my treasure over them. As we reach the bar I hear her bark a  “Wait.”

She gathers my walking staff from the counter top and eyes Angus slumped dozing at its foot. It surprises me, she pauses, kneels slight and cups the dwarfs bearded cheek in one hand. Leaning in she whispers too him, too faint for even my sharp ears to catch, yet his eyes pop open, the skewed confused of the alcohol on him until he looks into her eyes. A small smile crosses his face  as she continues that subdued whisper aiding him to his feet. With nary a nod  of acknowledgement to me, Angus wobbles like a duck toward the door under her watchful eyes as she approaches me.

The nymph pauses before climbing the stairs, “And Angus,” she says,…”be careful out there.”

Angus nods,… “Aye my lady…” he pauses, swaying a bit and turns slow with serious eyes upon holding to the nymph  “May Gaia guide and protect you in what needs be done.”

I paid scant attention to them. My mind was wrapped in facing the prospect of ascent of the stairs, the fact a hastily devised plan had come together, a bit tipsy and blurred in a moment of self satisfaction, I was going to take a bit of indulgence in that ascent,  knowing Baylis head would  bounce along that stair length. That just seemed a bonus in the moment.. Something to add to the hangover he would feel. I started up the  stairs feeling quite full of myself as I heard the steady knock of Baylis trailing me upwards.

But …

In retrospect…

I should have caught that….

Blame it on the alcohol, blame the urgency of the moment, blame the indulgence of success, but I should have caught that final exchange between Angus and this nymph.

I really,…

Really,

Should have caught those words.

[Bear]

Again I shove the tankards towards Baylis which he takes instinctively, still with measuring eyes on the waddling dwarf. “Who doesn’t this night.” I hiss softly. “The little bugger is poor of coin. Accosts any who listens with lies they owe him money. Like any would believe a dwarf to extend credit. Their purse strings are as tight as their arses,…”,  I take a sip of the ale, adding casually “but they make fine brew.”

My eyes skirted along Baylis’  hands, and noted the wrap of a thing chain dangling over his left wrist its length dropped to the ground. A chanced a brief glance and glanced again towards the nymph.  Before her where she knelt was a pool of the chain, neatly coiled in a pile before her. The other end snaked up her lap and was wrapped, secured about her right wrist. I had not noted it in that vision, but there again, it was a vision and I shrugged it off to the effects of her beauty, my mind had been far too distracted on other attributes, … so to speak.

I raise the tankard.  “To Dwarven brew!”  I down the drink. Baylis polishes his off before me. I glance to Angus and nod for the next round. He scuttles quick to the bar quickly snatching 4 more tankards, pausing there briefly with a look of concern.

I cannot let Baylis slip from the roll of liquor. Yet even as I turn his attention has drifted to the pair between his legs. One hand buries into the hair of the male and pulls him over that pulsating shaft. Eagerly the man slobbers in joy and plunges open mouth onto Baylis.

“See something you like man?” Baylis has his eyes locked on me. A rather sultry look of fire and beckoning in his eyes.”

“And break his joy?” Nodding towards the blond slobbering over Baylis. “ No, I fear the drink has taken the shine off my wants.”

“Well I can fix that.” Baylis reaches for his lute. The last thing I need is for him to whip up my lust with his talents.

“And waste this opportunity? The bar is as open and free as a wenches you stoked here. “To dwarven ale!”

“We already drank to that.”  His eyes still rightfully eye me suspiciously.

“To free dwarven ale!” I down my drink hearing Baylis mutter.

“I cannot deny that… Free ale!” He drops the lute,  moving the hand forward to shove the man down on his cock as he tosses his drink back.

I chance another peek at the kneeling statuette of the nymph, her head held titled slight with the hint of a knowing sublime smile. Her gaze locked intensely on the satyr as if weighing his responses with expectancy. The intensity catches me off guard, so focused, absolute as if her eyes could bend him to her will. Perhaps I over read here, but feeling that penetrating calm that hovers over me when her eyes shift to me, I wonder in this moment if she brings that to him.. I can feel her shift her attention slowly upon me, …. like a weight that pressing upon the soul,

Angus staggers towards us, and its quite clear the burden of  the ale is beginning to weigh heavy on him. I turn again to him eying the brimming tankards and as he pulls up short I can see  the confusion on him. I give him a silent gesture  to choose which is the heavy brew, but he remains in indecision.

Gods, not now. I lean as hush whispers are exchanged.

“Which is it Angus?”

“I don’t know,  you two are washing yourself quick in this , I just grabbed four to hurry back.”

“arrgh..”  I cannot hide my momentary frustration.

“Is there a problem?” I hear Baylis ask a tinge of slur stretching his words..

I turn quick to Baylis and his response.

My dart of a reply  is quick, “No problem, no problem, he merely voices admiration of your endowment. He’s rather shy in admitting it.”

“Is he now?”  Baylis eyes the dwarf like a choice piece of meat. “I can relieve his inhibitions if he pleases.” His hands fumble toward his lute.

“Bear!”  Angus stands teetering, yet his eyes flare with a panic at me. A harsh whisper escapes  from him. “If he launches some dwarven ditty I’ll hunt you down. There’ll be…”

I grab a pair of tankard from him, swinging quick to Baylis, “As enticing as that might be then who would serve us? Best we think of things in hand then the possibilities …”  I push the brew towards Baylis  who beams bright at the gift and diverts again from the lute accepting them.

His eyes linger on Angus, I lean in and draw his attention away, “The skills of dwarves are far beyond their smithy skills.  Have you ever had dwarven head?”

Baylis peers at me, his eyes finally showing signs of a glassy dullness. He slurs in reply, “No doubt legendary.”

“Asshole… “ I hear Angus hiss. I swing to him quick. Too quick, the quick flood of brew is hitting me and the room spins for a second. I realize there is a chance from all appearances Baylis will outlast us. I lean into Angus hushly instructing, “Test them before you return, leave mine partially filled, our goal is to polish him off not me. Now go!”

Immediately my throat burned as if swallowing fire. My first reaction was to send the potent brew spewing out in a spray over the naked masses before us. I half expected bodies to burst into flames where the brew landed. With watering eyes I glanced to Baylis, draining his tankard. Had he seen my transgression?  My plan could be in ruins if he had. I teetered on the edge of failure and held my breath to await his reaction…..

[Bear]

The comment section of the charts are a bit difficult to read.

Having a nice overview of the poses classification in each sexual orientation thread might be helpful to new users.

[Bear]

Well done Jess and V'

[Bear]

Sonia your count is reasonably accurate.

To be frank its been a long outstanding debate that has perpetuated from the early days of the sites creation. Originally it was driven by sheer economic models of sexual social sites which were driven by simple facts that  roughly 70% of paying users were male hetero's. Female economics of this site (i.e. clothing, poses)  were driven by the gifting system.

A LOT has changed in the past 12 years, Although I tried do a quick verification I did not find any current statistics (would like seeing them here if one could provide them)

Looking at he disparity solely as FF to MF numbers s to ignore that the MF offers tend to be market tests for the other orientation. If you desire some of those I consider as ridiculous (Head standing BJ) by all means shout your wants.

The MF numbers also include a variety of poses for a wider spectrum of “practices” (i.e. Dominix/submissive actions) which lend to the  inflated disparity. I'll be happy to create an overview list under the appropriate thread (which is needed imo)

Achat has never responded well to generalized criticism. Speak in specifics. What pose do you want created from scratch. What pose do you want adopted. (there are appropriate threads where that should answer should be directed) Give them some time to work into production. I tried years ago to get the FF group  to speak up direct and useful  in directing the developers in a direction of what types of offers they  would appreciate seeing. I have an understanding that dildo action doesn't meet the full needs.

[Bear]

A voice had tickled my conscious as I formed my haphazard plan. Feminie, soft,  gentle and reflective in its tone, it spoke in a clarity of sharpness.

“It amazed me that it worked”

I KNEW that voice, from somewhere,… sometime but I could not place it. As I had shared my plan with Angus there was a reaffirming confidence given to me of my words. I am not shaken by much,… but this presence in my mind, a sense of the present moment somehow being history..

I take a deep breath and try to release the thoughts, but it lingers there just out of the consciousness.
 
As I wait on Angus my eyes drift again to the nymph. Her gaze holds on me with a depth of familiarity I cannot shake. It’s like looking across the room into piercing eyes of deep intimacy. Closing my eyes, it still takes all my will power to turn myself away.

Closing my eyes does not help.

I feel her.

I sense her in deepness I cannot fathom in reason

Angus pushed the tankards forward, “It’s on you now laddie.” His words slur some and by the gloss of his eyes one can tell that the special dwarven brew is quite potent.

Its a moment that breaks that hold of the presence.

“No worries,:” I gave him a confident grin. “Besides, what have I told you are my strengths?”

Angus rolled his eyes,… “Aye,,, fighting, drinking and fornicating. Not necessarily in that order.”

I gave him a wink as I pulled the vial of clear liquid from my pouch “Plays to my strengths then doesn’t it?” For all purposes this elixir seemed to quell the mind. I wasn’t certain, but hoped between the brews strength and the mind numbing abilities of the liquid the old seleni would succumb to its effects. I popped the vials cork and tapped a few drops sparingly into the tankard taking.

“Tis a sleeping potion?” Angus eyed the brew curious, as if expecting a pop and smoke.

“Not exactly.” I shrugged carefully recorking the vial.

“That tells me little.”

“Well I am not sure.”

“Not sure?”  Angus grunts weaving a bit. I did not answer him,…I could not answer him for the effects of the  liquid in the vial were as much a mystery to me. All I knew was that it dulled the senses, ..all I could hope for was that it dulled his immense tolerance for alcohol into something manipulative.

With a deep breath to steady my nerves I collected the tankards, carefully as Angus had generously filled them to the brim. The amber fluid sloshed and ran over the edges as I turned pausing to read the clearest track to navigate around the orgy,

I may have sold Angus short in not revealing my true intentions. However I am a secretive creature, driven by the need to remain in the confusing shadows of purpose. It is a necessity when one pursues a demon, or that one carries a dark corruption inside. Like a motto, it manifests into a well rehearsed pattern of behavior. Move in stillness thru humanity, do not create ripples in the pool of society which might bring unwanted attention. Too often I held myself back while injustice played itself out before me. Yes,… I held myself back, and allowed the innocent to fall victim while heartless men took their advantage of them.

Angus might have understood my true compulsion, might was the key word.  Waiting until Baylis cast a suspicious glance towards me before I added a flair of staggering gait to my walk, weaving indirectly towards the satyr leaving behind me a trickling trail of ale on the wooden planked floors.

His eyes held warningly upon as I finally rocked on my heels next to him. He waves me off indifferently, refocusing on the male and female knelt between his legs in worship of that mighty phallus. The blonde who had rode his insatiable engorged member lay exhausted to the side. New lust tended him, tongues which drug slow savoring his prowess, their fingers jockeying in position to grip and stroke him.

I dare to steal a glance of the nymph. Her head tilts slightly taking in my presence with a look of curiosity and amusement. The tilt  of her head just enough for me to catch a glimpse of metal about her neck obsured till now by the drape of her long hair about her neck.

It is the briefest of glimpses, and yet by the satyrs’ glare obviously already too long, I make my move fast before a cloven hoof lashes at me. I shove a pair of tankards forward towards Baylis,  the brew cresting over the tankards rim and spilling onto his chest.

“Drink with me!” I cry, my pitch mildly set boorishly loud enough to cement his attention. He growled, pulling his hips up the seat in surprise as the brew sloshing over him. The cuddling pair between his legs scooted forward chasing their rigid pillar of worship.

Most men would have slapped the tankards away, but satyrs are not most men, being the offsprings of Pan they never turn from the offer of drink.

It’s a course of instinct in them I could have as easily dumped a tankard on his head and offered him the other, he would have as likely accepted the favor of drink .

Still he bore a begrudging reluctance as he yanked the tankards away, its contents rolling again over the rim onto him.

With his attention set firmly on me I held his beady stare. Satyrs are not comely creatures. Squarish of face with high foreheads bearing a distinct ridge under their thick unibrows.  Eyes set deep beneath,  recessed under that ridge leave them with an aura of dark mystery or dark erotic appeal, a distinction depending on how much you have to drank or fallen under the  alluring magic of their music. The horns jutting from his high forehead are thick. denoting a creature of old age. Broad chested, thick arms, the mat of chest hair is thick, but nothing like the coat of hair that covers his hips and leg.

“A toast,” I swear “to the God Pan.” Want a satyr to drink… toast their Deity,  not necessarily a god but to Baylis would not quip at the  over exaggeration, It would be sacrilege not to join in such high salute Baylis  tossed his head back and drained the mug. I smiled as I drained my tankard, thinking blessed are the faithful.

Baylis wiped his mouth, a contented grin on his thin lips. “Dwarven Ale…. A good strong brew. “

I swayed a little nodding… “The good brew… he hides it…a shame,  No doubt your thirst  is great. It takes energy to enthrall such a crowd.” He made to speak, but I cut him off. “A toast,… to your skill and the honor it brings Pan.!” I drank immediately draining the tankard of house ale, sparing a glance to confirming the satyr followed suit,  gulping the  contents down swift.. I turn towards the bar and wave my arms  Shouting “More!,.. Bartender,… More..”

Angus was already moving towards us carefully balancing four more tankards in his precarious weave thru the squirming sea of bodies. He pushes a pair of mugs towards me. Which I take somewhat perplexed, uncertain in the moment if they are my drink of the lite house ale  or the heavy hitting dwarven brew .The obvious confusion must have been apparent, Angus nods his head jerking towards the satyr.

“Ah good my short fellow…. Don’t stop, keep the drink flowing.“ I fumble for a coin and flip it towards him. Again I shove the tankards towards Baylis “Drink,… drink while the brew can still flow freely.”

Baylis is leaning forward, his suspicious gaze locked on Angus as I relieve the dwarf of the remaining tankards. The satyr’s eyes narrow as they follow the retreating dwarf moving to the line of tankards set upon  the bar. “I know him..”

My senses sparked with a warning, all could be undone if Baylis dwelled on that too long. My plan could be defeated when it had scarcely begun.

“They all look alike in my opinion. Turn them upside down and they all look like relatives” I take a deep breath hoping the contents of the vial and hefty brew have found their mark. “Perhaps it is fatigue that clouds your mind. Sleep…”

Baylis shoots me an annoyed glance and grunts. “This evening has just begun.”

I felt a tinge of disappointment, …just a little.

Let's be honest, the plan WAS hastily conceived. But…,

Everything had just begun.

[Bear]

Pfff, can't force the muse

Indeed Momma_andre, true words.
Thank you for the encouraging words Kait' The hole gets dug deeper…

ANother epi is lingering to post, It was the hardest of the original to write, and needed a fresh look and assessment for its place in the story.

[Author]

Posts