Captures of moments, conversations.
what if I told you
there was a wolf
who knew where you slept
and wasn’t afraid
to set his teeth
against your dreams
and make them his.
if you are marked
by intent
(gripped from behind, tangled hair in rugged claws)
would you offer
yourself to the wolf?
It has been a while since I shared one of these conversations.
I met Keysha at a weekend-long convention I attended; between events at the convention, I spent my time in my hotel room, door open, reading a book and listening to the world outside.
A few weeks after the convention, I corresponded with Keysha. We both had plans to attend the convention again the next year, but it never happened.
—
Keysha wishes muchly that you'd simply dragged me into your room at Con. I'd wanted to pester you, but every time I saw you alone, you were reading.
D'jaevle smiles. I was keeping myself entertained; several people did come by to pester me. But you were mostly otherwise occupied. Besides, how much trouble do you think you'd have let yourself get into?
Keysha pages: Actually, a lot of the time I was bouncing around, looking for things to do.. and I tend to not interrupt people who are reading, I value my time with books. But… *whimpers* Enough trouble to get both of us hungry for more? At the right touch, I'd have done anything…"
D’jaevle touches your cheek, but his fingers are not gentle, "Anything? Because I can tell you that if you had responded right…so easy to slip your shirt over your head, to give a naked canvas to play with. For fingers to linger on your shoulders, slipping around the front from behind."
Keysha whimpers from more shivers. "Being touched can be the greatest seduction, when it's done right. And if someone takes that time, I'm very seducible. Anything."
D’jaevle brushes your lips with fingertips, "You know well enough now, my patience. Unfolding, the slow heat. Finding each sensitive part. I thought of it – of what you would look like under my fingers. Of how your whimpers would sound."
Keysha curses missed opportunity, and tugs your jeans lower, caressing the revealed skin with her lips and fingers. "This gives us… who knows how much added time, to tease one another before we meet, then?
D’jaevle takes another deep breath as you move. "Enough." He takes a slow breath, "Anything. Anything, hands finding your bare breasts. Anything, fingers parting to capture nipples. Anything, walking that edge, seeing how far you'll let the line take you, there in a room."
Keysha wraps both of her legs around one of yours and whimpers, pressing her face against your stomach to muffle it. "Such cruel thoughts you fill my mind with.. and yes.. anything. I would happily be led down that line, as far as it would take me."
D’jaevle pages: Cruelty is a double-edged knife, and soon I must sleep.
Keysha would far rather have you at night than sleep.
D’jaevle smiles. Are you offering yourself in the place of sleep?
Keysha blushes. "If you'd want me"
D’jaevle chuckles, "Oh, I do. But to replace sleep…you'd have to offer yourself. Your skin. Your heat. What do you fear?"
Keysha pages: to me, there are two types of fear,.. but one is better expressed as dread. I don't /dread/, talking to you on the phone,.. I fear it.. which is a much more delicious sensation, one I can savor and enjoy, and succumb to if I were to go through with it. It would be the delight of being drawn into talking, and of teasing, since I'm the most nervous on the phone, out of any form of interaction. It's the knot in the pit of my stomach, that feeling of danger, without it being present, and then, giving in and letting go…. that's what I mean. It's enough to make my whole body ache with wanting,.. enough to make me stifle whimpers just from reading and thinking of what you suggest doing to me.. it's fearing that I would give in to all of it, if I could, and wanting to. It's wanting to be helpless under your control.
D’jaevle pages: Tell me what you want.
Keysha pages: I want to feel the heat of your kisses, and your hands, roughly parting my legs as I lie beneath you. I want the sensation of your teeth against my nipple, biting hard enough to make me gasp as you enter me, after driving each other nearly to the brink of madness with desire. And I want to feel us give each other shuddering pleasure until we collapse, spent and exhausted, finally able to rest, too tired to move apart. I want to feel my heart racing just at the thought of you, feel my breath quicken at the sight of you, my legs tremble at the sound of your voice.
D’jaevle smiles. Yes. And now – now, what is it you want me to make you do?
Keysha pages: other than beg for release?
D’jaevle pages: Yes.
Keysha doesn't know what her options are, which makes it hard.
D’jaevle smiles. Take off your shorts.
Keysha does so… but only after closing the blinds.
D’jaevle pages: 'Panties.'
Keysha blushes… and does.
D’jaevle pages: “Part your thighs. Press your palm down along the inside, against the heat. Drag your fingers up against yourself. Then again. Again. Until you are wet.'
Keysha shivers and whimpers, doing as you ask, eyes closed for a minute.
D’jaevle pages: 'It won't take much. You're already right there. Fingers moving, think of my eyes on you.’
Keysha is…very wet, with an aching pain between her legs, needing to be filled, joined.
D’jaevle pages: ‘I want to hear you whimper. When I tell you how I am going to nudge against you, just barely inside, just at the edge, back and forth.'
Keysha buries her face against the bed, hiding. "Oh god, that's cruelty. It's like holding water before a person dying of thirst, and keeping it just out of reach."
D’jaevle pages: ‘I told you cruelty was double-edged.’
Here is one half of a conversation with Madeleine, my little vampire bitch and companion.
—
Madeleine shivers. "Though I am still inclined to occasional daydreaming about that night…"
…
Madeleine shakes her head. "Not one moment… the whole evening. But I suppose, really, the first time I felt your touch on my skin."
…
Madeleine nods slowly. "And the first time I felt your hands around my neck. Trembling, knowing how badly I wanted to surrender to you, doing it, and simultaneously being unable to believe that I was."
…
Madeleine mmmms dreamily. "I remember that too. And all the many gasps thereafter. Mostly because you bit me, you vampire, you."
…
Madeleine purrs. "Mostly the vampire, I think. There are too many dark promises in your whispers."
…
Madeleine squirms and, consequently, rubs back against your lap. "Some of your own creation… oh, and don't worry, if it gets too crowded, we can always make more."
…
Madeleine smiles at that, drawing a breath while she can. "I make few enough of them, don't I? Yes."
…
Madeleine moans and squirms again, gasping out, "What I want to know is how you know my weaknesses so well… or is it that I'm not so different from most other women?"
…
Madeleine shakes her head a little. "Who wouldn't? To see the passing of eternity… to feel such power… to remain like a god when everything else passes away? To be eternally young, and inestimably old…?"
…
Madeleine sighs softly. "I wish… but we grow old, and die. Even more reason to make the most of the time we have."
…
Madeleine closes her eyes and lays her head back against your shoulder again, her neck stretched taut and bared beneath your hand. "And relive them over and over…"
…
Madeleine moans softly… half sighs… and turns her head slightly to feel the roughness of your beard against her lips.
…
Madeleine whimpers into your mouth, knees getting a little weak as she trembles uncontrollably. "Another weakness…" she moans. "Your strength."
…
Madeleine whimpers again. "Maybe all the marks you left the -first- time will be gone by then."
We mark what we would own, lining skin with scratches and bites. We write our ownership in the calligraphy of the cruel, broad brush strokes of word and whip, leaving scars both emotional and physical. The most delicious of morsels are plucked still red and sore, a tasting of plump flesh engorged with pleasure.
Yours.
It becomes an internal anthem, a mantra to self, and this belief of place, this dedication to the life carved out by you, for you, with you, is enough to fill you entirely, washing away the grit that would sandpaper you into nothingness.
—
Madeleine laughs. "I'm a woman… you shouldn't get your hopes up."
D’jaevle looks down at you in his lap, "And I am cruel. I shall leave one here," his finger runs over your neck, right where it meets your shoulder. "And here,", his finger slips down to your breasts, tracing the curve of one, stopping along the side, "Maybe here…" the finger continue to your hip, lazily teasing the skin.
Madeleine grins. "All new places… perhaps one day, there won't be a single part of me below the neck that you've not marked."
Some lessons are harder than others.
—
Faith: is there anything that I /can/ do that you would want?
D’jaevle: Tonight? No. The cost of having you is in your flesh, in the naked offering.
Faith: the thought of you hard,… even considering wanting me,… makes me feel weak, wanting. I’m aching, wanting my legs to be spread apart, so that I can be entered.
D’jaevle: I am sending you to sleep with an ache to match my own.
Faith: *whimpers*
Faith: I /need/ the feeling of being entered…
D’jaevle: Some things will have to wait.
D’jaevle: I am patient.
D’jaevle: I go to sleep, or rather, to linger in bed and envision. And then sleep.
Faith: you’re going to make me insane….
D’jaevle: Good.
D’jaevle: Now sleep. Or rather, go lay in bed and think of being on your knees.
Faith: you’ve made me ache so badly…
Faith: please.. can I at least give myself some release? Even as inadequate as it is?
D’jaevle: No.
D’jaevle: Tomorrow, yes.
D’jaevle: Tonight, no.
Faith: God.. I will go insane. I don’t know how to sleep like this.
D’jaevle: Consider it a lesson.
It is a delicious ache when someone gets under your skin, into your bloodstream, inside your head. An ache that flares every time you are reminded of them. A graceless thought that touches off all the reasons they make you need them.
—
D’jaevle says “Do you ever think about my voice?”
Madeleine says “Like, all the time.”
D’jaevle arches a brow, “Really.”
Madeleine says “I think about YOU all the time.”
D’jaevle runs a hand down the side of your neck, slowly, his eyes on yours, “I like that. I like being under your skin.”
Madeleine sighs. “I think, often, about seeing you again.”
D’jaevle leans in closer, voice almost a whisper, “I love stripping you bare.” He brushes his lips across your forehead, “How does the thought of seeing me again make you feel?”
Madeleine shudders. “Very, very wet… especially in the highly-suggestible state I’m in.”
D’jaevle leans in close, his hands slipping over your shoulders, “What do you want right now?”
Madeleine grins. “Mmm…, I want you. I want to be on my knees again at your feet. I want to feel the heat of your breath and your lips on my throat…”
D’jaevle smiles, his voice becoming soft again, “I also enjoyed having you bent over the bed, my fingers sliding into you from behind, finding just how wet you were for me.”
Madeleine shivers. “I am always wet when you’re around. Or even when you’re in my head.”
D’jaevle lets his hand drift down your stomach his hair brushing your cheek, “It’ll be harder next time to not want to push you, to do things I know might bend you to the limit. To want more from inside of you.”
Madeleine laughs. “If you worry, don’t give me alcohol. I’m far more stubborn without it.”
D’jaevle tilts you back, one hand on your lower back to support you as his breath tickles your throat, “And right now? If I told you I wanted to bury my fingers in your hair and force you gently, through words that make you want it like a life-saving medicine, to slip your lips over me and take all of me, what would you do?”
It is a thin line, the distance between fear and desire, between want and need, between hope that it is real and despair that it is too much so.
—
Laura: *shivers* And if I tried to stop you? Put my hands on yours?
D’jaevle: Without speaking? Just hands on mine? I’d pause…for a moment. And then continue, with your hands on mine, and now you’d be doing it with me.
Laura: …and if I asked you? to please stop?
D’jaevle: While you were trembling in my hands?
D’jaevle: I’d speak softly and tell you that you’d need to do more than that. That I was going to take it. That I could feel you wet already.
Laura: *blushes* And if I begged you? And told you I was afraid?
D’jaevle: Begged me to stop?
Laura: *nods*
D’jaevle: I’d take your hand and slide it down the front of your panties, guided by my own. Curl your fingers against the heat, let you feel how hot it felt.
Laura: *whimpers*
Holly pages: “it gives me a rush to flash you while someone else is here.”
D’jaevle smiles. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Holly pages: “yes, i’m very wet.”
D’jaevle pages: “Remove your shirt.”
Holly pages: “can i get up from my desk to do it?”
D’jaevle pages: “Yes.”
Holly pages: “you can see my nipples through this bra.”
D’jaevle pages: “I want you to push your chair back three feet and slip your bra up to show your breasts.”
Holly whimpers.
D’jaevle pages: “Now.”
Holly pages: “would you like anything else?”
D’jaevle pages: “I want you to undo your jeans.”
Holly smiles. they’re black knit slacks, no undoing to them ;)
D’jaevle smiles. “Then show me your panties.”
Holly pages: “front or back?”
D’jaevle pages: “Front.”
Holly pages: “i dont think i can.”
D’jaevle waits.
Holly pages: “they’re very plain.”
D’jaevle “Say it. Tell me what you are.””
Holly pages: “i am your fucktoy.”
D’jaevle pages: “How did it make you feel to slip your pants down for me?”
Holly pages: “so hot.”
D’jaevle pages: “How hot?”
Holly pages: “i can feel my wool sweater grazing across my nipples.”
Holly pages: “i’m imagining it’s your teeth.”
D’jaevle pages: “Find out how wet you are.”
Holly pages: “very.”
D’jaevle pages: “How badly do you want to cum?”
Holly pages: “very, very bad. i want to feel your cock filling me even more.”
Holly pages: “my whole body is tense.”
D’jaevle pages: “I want you to run your fingers over your clit, once, hard.”
Holly pages: “i want more.”
D’jaevle pages: “How much?”
Holly pages: “if only i knew how much longer she would be..”
Holly pages: “i want to hear you.”
Holly pages: “i want you to hear me.”
Holly pages: “i would have to be so quiet.”
D’jaevle pages: “Now, then. Do you understand?”
Holly pages: “yes.”
Holly pages: “yes, please.”
Holly pages: “but you have to let me leave the office”
Holly pages: “i’m not doing it in here.”
D’jaevle pages: “Stay in the seat.”
Holly pages: “no, i won’t answer.”
Holly pages: “i absolutely cannot.”
D’jaevle waits.
Holly pages: “i wouldn’t be able to say a word to you!”
D’jaevle pages: “I’m going to make you be quiet.”
D’jaevle pages: “And do as I say. Exactly. Do you understand?”
Holly pages: “yes.”
D’jaevle pages: “Answer. Do you understand?”
Holly pages: “yes!”
D’jaevle pages: “Ask me to call now.”
Holly pages: “please call now. hurry.”
There are only two people I have ever considered myself Master to. For only two has it meant something other than a role to be played. For only two has it been true in a way that goes deeper than skin and blood.
The Occasionally Cruel One is one of those two. And she has, in her beautifully agonizing silence, become deaf to my words. So I force myself to forget her, that I don’t continue to muse on the lilt in her voice when she is impassioned, or the deft twist of a word when she is naughty, or the way she became mine the moment my teeth found her neck in truth. I force myself to forget so that I can stop checking how tightly the door is closed.
This exchange, captured several years ago, summarizes my relationship with her rather perfectly.
—
From afar, Madeleine blinks innocently. “I don’t mean to torment you, Master. Really.”
D’jaevle pages: I just bet.
Madeleine pages: Honestly, my Master…
D’jaevle pages: Yes?
Madeleine pages: I’m lying. I really was trying to torment you. Bad of me, isn’t it?
Like the warm kiss on the side of your neck that makes your knees weak, we all have an image, an idea, that can have a similar affect. A mental erogenous zone, this scenario has a way gripping our imagination and not letting go until we’ve managed to get it out our system by indulging our baser desires. This idea colors everything and can make places or people we would not normally consider as erotic to become so when placed on the stage or our mind’s arena. It promises mischief and we are sometimes helpless within its grasp.
One of these ideas, for me, is misbehaving at the office. Throw in a few references to hard, dirty, sex, and…
***
03.05.03
Teri pages: well, file it away in the back of your dirty little mind.. Because it’s been way to long since I had a really good vicious beating. I would think that you’d appreciate the opportunity to have a run at my tender hide again ;) I could be a little slut for you, if you like. I’ve got this dress that stops high and some garters to go with my corset…. *g*. All you’d have to do is bend me over…
D’jaevle pages: And spank you? Whip you? Flog you? Fuck you?
From afar, Teri wouldn’t mind any of the above. Or all of the above. I have this lovely image of being bent over your desk in that outfit. Tell me, D’jaevle, how long has it been since you fucked a woman’s ass?
D’jaevle pages: It’s been a while.
Teri pages: Miss it?
D’jaevle pages: About as much as you probably miss having your ass beaten bright red.
Teri pages: Ooooh, that’s really saying something….There’s nothing quite like the feeling of being split open and violated over and over and over…
D’jaevle pages: With fingernails biting into skin or tweaking nipples hard enough to send sharp lines to your clit.
Teri pages: that could be alot of fun.. *g* A pair of nipple clamps does that job nicely…Mmmm… would you want to whip me? Or flog me? Or spank me? mmm? Run a knife across my back.. or my arms.. or my legs…drip a candle over all the delicate bits? mmm.. Oh the options of things to do… But I’ll be a little slut for you, and let you do anything you want to me..
D’jaevle pages: Anything?
Teri pages: Why, what did you have in mind?
D’jaevle pages: Let’s go back to that image of you dressed up and bent over my office desk.
Teri pages: It’s a shame you’re office isn’t more private. *g* Otherwise I might actually show up dressed as such…
D’jaevle grins. Promises, promises.
Teri pages: It’d be rather hard to sneak in….at least not until after midnight, and Rose knows me well enough to know when some thing’s up ;)
D’jaevle chuckles.
Teri pages: I see.. *grins* Tell me something… what do you feel when you press me against the wall and beat me?
D’jaevle arches a brow. Hunger. Power. Excitement.
Teri pages: mmmmmm…do you have any idea how turned on I am right now?
D’jaevle pages: Tell me.
Teri pages: I can feel my clit throbbing against the fabric of my underwear. Are you turned on?
D’jaevle pages: I would say so, yes. Enough to make me want to just bend you over the desk, draw your pants over hips….
Teri pages: Mmm. I’d have to bite my lip to keep from making a sound. I’m already dripping wet.
D’jaevle pages: Your breasts pressed to the hard surface while your ass rubs back against my fingers.
Teri pages: you’d like that, wouldn’t you… Or you could push me up against the wall…
Teri pages: Drop my pants..
D’jaevle pages: And?
Teri pages: fuck me in to the wall…hands squeezing breasts, body crushed against me…
D’jaevle smiles. Or one hand pressed around your neck, while the other finds your clit.
Teri pages: ooohhh…I like that one better. Nothing makes me cum harder than a hand squeezing my throat….