Five fics for Ru-chan
All written for her original series, Fallen. And written about, oh I'd say 3 or 4 years ago.
These are presented primarily for hers and my personal nostalgia factor. ^_^ But there's still some pretty good stuff in here. Slash, het, femmeslash, religious symbolism, belts, ANGST... Ah, memories. Listed in the order in which I wrote them. I think.
Untitled Boniface/Innocent non-con drabble
He wanted to scream, but not this time. He wouldn't give Boniface the satisfaction anymore. The older man had him chained to the table, the tight leather cuffs cutting into his tender wrists, and he could feel the warmth of his own blood running slowly into his hands. Another pair of scars to join the many that criss-crossed his forearms. Innocent savored the thought. He hated Boniface, but loved to bear the marks. In some perverse way he did not entirely understand, they made him feel special. Distantly, he heard a buckle being undone. Boniface did love belts. Innocent pressed his face into the heavy wood and waited. He had done this before.
Boniface loved his little fucktoy. It showed in every bruise, every welt, every snakelike cut that left whisper thin white scars on pale skin. He loved the cries, the pleas for mercy, the tear stained screams that left the boy's throat raw and bleeding and so very hot around his cock. He shivered with lust at the memory, and ran rough hands down Innocent's back. Innocent was still and silent, and didn't seem to notice him at all. For all Boniface could tell, the boy might well be asleep behind those closed eyes. In a fluid, familiar motion, he unbuckled the the leather strap on his shoulder. Innocent would scream for him, eventually. He always did.
Ensconced in his cavern of computers and cables, Urban heard a distant scream of pain. With very little thought, he turned the volume on his monitors up. Not that he particularly cared what Boniface got up to in their spare time, but he did hope there would be no visible scars on Innocent. It was always awkward to get notes from teachers regarding the boy. Politely phrased, always, but always with that underlying fear of abuse. If they only knew... Urban made a noise not entirely unlike a laugh, and went back to his work.
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This was my first real foray into writing smut. Rough and awkward in places, I still like the idea behind it. Contains dubiously consensual S&M between and adult and a minor. See? I was doing it before it was fashionable. ^_^
Hello
Arma closed her eyes tightly to block out the wasteland surrounding her. The once verdant landscape was stained black with the blood of the fallen. A great battle had been fought here, and neither side had been victorious. Forcing herself to open her eyes and walk, she surveyed the ravaged landscape for survivors.
"I should have been here," she thought aloud. "They needed me." Damn Samael and his games; his distractions.
The field was devoid of all life. Arma looked from corpse to corpse, hoping fervently that one being had survived. She stopped suddenly as she realized exactly who it was she was thinking of.
"Lamia."
And yet, it wasn't really surprising. Lamia had always been there, whether she was wanted or not, always willing to please. She had a light that illuminated even the darkest corners of the heart, and Arma wasn't sure she could live if that light went out.
Wasn't sure she wanted to.
Off to her right, something made a sound. A small wounded cough. "Hello?" she called out.
"I knew you'd make it," said a weak voice.
Her heart sped up. "Lamia? Lamia, where are you?"
"I'm sorry I can't go very fast. It's hard to see." A thin figure was walking towards her very slowly. Arma ran out to meet her, a relieved smile on her face. She wanted to hold Lamia tightly and never let her go, and leave all this mess behind. Before she could, Lamia fell to the ground hard. Worried, Arma knelt beside her and for the first time realized how severe her injuries were. Lamia was bleeding from a gash on her forehead, and a massive puncture wound in her stomach. Her right leg was broken, and her entire body was covered in bruises and dirt.
"Oh god, Lamia. You're hurt."
"Yeah. It was a battle, you know." she managed a feeble laugh and Arma smiled in response.
"I knew you'd get here, Arma, but I think you missed the good part."
"No, finding you alive is the good part," Arma said, and Lamia grinned. Tearing fabric from her own clothing and the bodies strewn around them, Arma tried to bandage her friend's wounds. After several minutes, the blood was still flowing freely from her head and stomach.
"I don't think I've ever seen you so worried," Lamia laughed softly.
"I can't get the bleeding to stop! Why won't it stop?" Arma was panicking. "Oh god, Lamia, I don't want you to die."
"I don't think I'm dying. It's... It's just really dark."
Arma was lost. "Please. Please, just hang on! I'll save you, Lamia, I swear!"
"I know you will," Lamia whispered. Gathering her strength, she sat up and leaned in closer to Arma, as if to kiss her. "You always do."
Arma strained forward to close the distance between their lips. Lamia's head fell back and her body became a dead weight in her friend's arms. Arma buried her face in Lamia's neck and tried to remember how to breathe as the night closed in around her.
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Is it me you're looking for? Lots of angst and blood, but not in the sexy way. Written at about 3 am listening to Lionel Richie.
Hold
Arma suddenly opened her eyes. She didn't know where she was.
Blackness stretched unbroken as far as the eye could see. She felt like she couldn't move. Leather hugged her torso, comforting and tight, and she knew she was geared for battle. No enemies could be seen, and Arma was afraid.
There was a soft noise behind her; an almost imperceptible exhalation of breath. She tried to turn around and failed. A sharp laugh broke the silence.
"Whatsa matter? Can't move?" A voice mocked her from the darkness.
"Who are you?" Arma demanded.
"Now, now," the voice admonished, "You're hardly in the position to be asking the questions here. But maybe I have been a little rude." There was a bright flash, and Arma found herself in the center of a circle of light. The force holding her released, and she collapsed to the ground.
A man walked into the circle. He was dressed in what seemed to be a vast array of belts, and very little else. Mostly, he wore bare skin and a wicked expression. It was a good look for him, honestly. His hair was white, with a brown stripe down the center; sort of a reverse skunk thing. A skunk mullet. Arma smiled at that, despite the situation. The man walked over to her and hauled her roughly to her feet. His eyes traveled slowly up her body, and she shivered involuntarily when their eyes met.
"So, you're my counterpart, huh? I thought you'd have bigger boobs than that." He let go of her, and she stumbled back. Counterpart? She was confused by that remark, but Arma never was one to let an insult slide.
"Funny," she retorted, "I thought you'd have better hair than that."
He looked at her for a second, briefly stunned. Then he threw his head back and laughed, a rich, melodious sound that echoed through Arma's head like razorblades. The man stepped in front of her and grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.
"I like you," he said, still chuckling low in his chest. He moved in even closer, and Arma fought the urge to blush at his proximity.
"The feeling isn't mutual" she spat.
The hand on her chin released its grip and gently caressed her cheek. Her eyes closed of their own volition at the light touch. She felt his laugh rather than heard it; felt hot breath on her ear. "But you don't even know me," he whispered seductively. "I can be very nice..." He kissed her cheek. "Very nice indeed." Arma opened her eyes in shock as he leaned in to kiss her lips. Summoning all her strength, she shoved him away. He took a step back of his own will, rather than any force of hers. "What's wrong, Flats? Don't like men?"
"Don't like you" she responded harshly. He laughed again, low and rumbling, then launched himself at her. Arma found herself completely pinned to the floor by the man, who leaned over her with a malicious and triumphant expression.
"Like it rough, do you?" he asked, slamming her wrists to the floor over her head. "That can be arranged." One-handed, he began to pull at the straps of her uniform, licking and biting flesh as it was exposed. Arma felt humiliated. She was afraid, and desperate to escape the stranger's clutches.
"Please stop." she ordered, trying to sound authoritative. He took no notice of her, but continued with his efforts. Despite her mind's resistance, her body was beginning to respond to the man's actions. "Stop! Get off me!" she pleaded, her control eroding quickly. "Please..." Her voice was little more than a panicked sob.
"I like it when you beg." the man said, nibbling on her neck. "Do it some more." He bucked his hips into her sharply, and she yelped in surprise. "Ooh, even better. Let's see what sounds I can get you to make."
Arma opened her mouth to retort, to scream, to moan, to do something... but no sound came out. She tried to take a breath and couldn't. She was suffocating. The man atop her ceased what he was doing and looked up. "Damn it! She always gets in the way." he said cryptically. He stood up, adjusted his belts, and smirked at her. "Later, Flats," he said. "I have the feeling we'll be seeing a lot of each other." And he was gone.
Arma was panicking. She was going to die if she couldn't take a breath soon. She closed her eyes and tried to will air into her body.
She sat bolt upright in bed and gasped loudly for breath. She looked around and saw that she was in her room. Lamia was standing next to her bed, holding her school uniform, and wearing the most impatient expression.
"I'm sorry, Sunshine, but we were gonna be late if you slept any later. So get your ass out of bed!" Lamia tossed the clothes at her and headed for the door. She looked back over her shoulder and smiled wryly. "You'll have to tell me about that dream you were having, sometime. Sounded kinda kinky." She winked and left the room laughing.
So it had been a dream. A very disturbing, very graphic dream. Arma shook her head as she got dressed. It had felt so real. She blushed at the memory and grabbed her bag, determined to figure it out after school.
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Oh, Boniface... Your dialogue was so fun to write, you magnificent bastard. Hetfic! Contains some non-consensual sexual situations. Lots of mindfuckery.
Home
Maris snuck in the front door, and took off her shoes. She didn't want to wake anyone up, coming home at... was it really a quarter to two?
Tonight had been Marty's birthday, and he would not accept that Maris had to go home directly after work when there was partying to do. He pulled the guilt card by accusing her that she just didn't care about her dear old boss, and she agreed to go out for an hour or two.
That had been around nine o'clock.
She called home after they closed the restaurant and told Vesta she would be home a little late. But she had no idea that she would be out all night, and she didn't want to call again in case she woke someone up. Probably Neiva, and she wouldn't say anything about it openly, but she would hold it against Maris for a long time.
It was late and she should just go to bed, but her stomach was growling and interfering with the whole "stealth" effect she was going for. A little side trip to the kitchen, and she would be off to bed.
Vesta had probably been worried. Maris felt awful about that. Vesta was her friend, and meant a lot to her, and she hated to see the poor girl upset. That was part of the reason she was being so quiet. She didn't want to wake Vesta, because Vesta would make a big fuss about her and want to make sure she was all right. Maris smiled at the thought of Vesta zipping around her, asking a million questions. She felt so lucky to have such a good friend.
Opening the door to the kitchen, Maris stopped short. Vesta was sitting there, fast asleep, with her head on the table. Had she waited up all night?
"Vesta?" Maris whispered, trying to judge how deeply asleep the girl was. Vesta didn't respond, except to snore softly and snuggle her head further into her arms. Maris figured it was probably safe enough to fix a sandwich, then she'd carry her friend to a more comfortable place to sleep. She opened the fridge. "Leftover meatloaf, huh? Yummy."
"Maris?" a sleepy voice asked from behind her, "Maris, is that you?"
She walked over to the table and ran her fingers through Vesta's hair. "Yeah, it's me."
"You didn't come home. I waited for you"
"I'm sorry, Vesta. Marty wouldn't let me go. It was his birthday, after all. And I wanted to call, but I didn't want to wake you up, because you've been working really hard lately, and..."
"Maris?"
"Yeah?"
The dark haired girl put a finger to her friend's lips. "You're talking too fast."
Maris laughed, "That's a switch, isn't it?" The laughter was contagious. Maris turned back to the fridge to see what she could make of that meatloaf.
"Are you hungry?" Vesta asked, standing and stretching her back, "I saved you some dinner."
Maris smiled. "My savior!" she said, as she sat down at the table. Vesta walked over to the microwave and turned it on. Thirty seconds later, she pulled out a warm plate covered with plastic wrap. She removed the wrap with a flourish, revealing...
""Fishsticks!" Maris exclaimed. "Just what I was hungry for."
"Well, good. Because you're not leaving this room until that plate is empty." Vesta smiled and sat down across from her friend. "Did you have fun?"
Maris paused between bites. "I suppose. Marty just wouldn't quit. He wanted to party all night long. He's getting a little old for it, though. It was fun, but it felt like there was something missing to me."
"Missing?"
"Yeah. Or like there was somewhere I'd rather be."
"Well, you wouldn't have rather been here! Lamia and Arma got into it again, and Ora had a bad day at school, and Neiva had a bad day at... wherever it is she goes everyday. Or maybe she didn't, I dunno, she's always kinda like that. Finished?" Vesta asked. But it was a rhetorical question, as the plate had been empty for several minutes.
"Yes," Maris mock whined, "even the vegetables. Can I have dessert now, Mom?" She winked and Vesta and stuck out her tongue.
"Not with that attitude, young lady," Vesta retorted, laughing. "And besides, I don't even think we have anything dessert-like around here." She began opening and closing the cabinets, "Well, no. Lamia has some candy around here somewhere that she thinks no one knows about. Oh, but I can't find it! I suppose I could run down to the convenience store and get you some ice cream or something if you..." She was cut short by Maris stepping closely in front of her and putting a finger against her lips.
"Vesta," she whispered.
Vesta's breath caught in her throat. "Y-yes?" she managed.
"You're talking too fast." Maris smiled and lowered her hand. Vesta grabbed it, and held it tightly.
"I just want you to be happy, Maris."
Maris laughed softly, "I am happy, Vesta. Mission accomplished."
Vesta beamed up at her. "I'm glad. I'm so glad!" Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes.
Worried, Maris wrapped her arms around her friend. "Vesta, what's wrong?"
The dark haired girl shook her head, and pressed her face against Maris's neck.
"No, tell me."
"It's nothing." Vesta said. "I was just really worried about you. I miss you when you aren't here."
"Oh, Vesta." Maris sighed and pulled the girl closer, "I miss you too. There's nowhere I would rather be than spending time with you. I'm sorry I made you upset. I'm sorry I was so late."
Vesta pulled away from the embrace and looked her friend in the eyes. "Really?"
"Absolutely." Maris said. "I care a lot about you."
Vesta didn't know what to say, or even if she should say anything. She could feel the blush radiating from her face, and realized it was pretty stupid to act this way around her best friend. Rather than say anything, she leaned in and brushed her lips against the blue haired girl's, hoping Maris would understand.
Maris inhaled sharply in shock, but didn't move away. Vesta... Vesta kissed her. "It should be weird," she thought, "kissing my best friend." But it wasn't. It felt natural. Like coming home. "Home," she whispered softly. She closed her eyes and returned the kiss.
After a moment, the two girls parted. Maris looked down at her friend. She was so beautiful, standing there with her eyes closed and a faint blush staining her cheeks. Maris leaned down and kissed her again. Vesta wrapped her arms around her friend's neck and held her tightly.
"I think I figured it out, Vesta." Maris said softly.
"Figured what out?" the dark haired girl asked.
"What was missing." Maris brushed a stray lock of hair from her friend's face. Vesta sighed and leaned into the touch. Maris smiled at her. "You. This. This was what was missing."
Vesta pulled her friend close once again. "Just don't ever leave me." she whispered.
"Don't worry," Maris replied, planting a kiss on Vesta's forehead. "I'm not going anywhere."
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Girls in luuuuuuv. ^_^
Untitled Lucifer/Boniface non-con fic
Boniface entered the great room nervously; acutely aware of the sound his bare feet made against the cool marble. slap...slap...slap The room appeared to be empty, and the boy was more confused than ever.
“Sir?” he asked timidly. He had been summoned to Lucifer’s chambers, a rare thing for others his age, and he had been shining with pride and excitement at the honor his master was giving him. But now Lucifer was nowhere to be seen.
There was little furniture, save the enormous bed that dominated the center of the room. It belied his master’s desire for rich and beautiful things. Silken pillows were scatterered lushly on the satin covers. Boniface smiled. It was funny to think of his warlike master, so masculine and aggressive, sleeping on such a girly bed.
“Something funny?” A rich baritone inquired.
Boniface wheeled around. Lucifer was leaning against a column as if he’d always been there. Instantly, the boy was on one knee before him.
“M-Master! I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were there.”
Lucifer laughed, a deep sound like the growling of a great cat. “Didn’t know that I was in my room? When I had summoned you to meet me?” He shifted out of his leaning pose and crossed his arms. “Boniface, I thought you were smarter than that.”
Boniface didn’t know what to say. He chose to keep silent, his eyes glued to the floor.
“Get up.” Lucifer stood in front of him, tall and stern and terrible. The boy began to rise, but a hand on his head stopped him. “Or better yet, make yourself useful, as long as you’re on your knees.”
“My lord?”
The hand tightened in his hair. It was almost painful, but Boniface said nothing. Lucifer unbuckled the clasp that held his loincloth in place.
Boniface gasped, seeing his master revealed. Surely, he hadn’t been summoned here for this?
His head was pulled up sharp, the grip on his hair certainly drawing blood.
“You heard me, boy. Don’t play dumb. No one likes an idiot.”
He would have hung his head in shame, if Lucifer hadn’t been holding it. To his surprise, it wasn’t shame at being used by his master, or even being admonished by him. He risked a glance upward.
“My lord, I... I don’t...”
The archangel jerked him to his feet and pulled his face close. “Listen to me, boy” he spat, “I have been angered today, and I have been wronged and denied in the worst of ways. It will not happen again. You will do as I say!” He threw Boniface roughly to the floor.
The boy crawled to his knees. He bowed his head reverently.
“I’m sorry, Master, but you misunderstand.” Lucifer’s eyes flared in wrath. Boniface met his gaze evenly.
“I want to serve you, Lord. But I don’t know how.”
A moment passed in tense silence. The archangel burst into loud, hard laughter. The boy’s face reddened and he felt tears beginning to rise.
At length, his master’s outburst subsided. “Boniface, Boniface...” His hair was affectionately ruffled. “You just put your mouth on it. Do I have to spell everything out for you?”
Tentatively, but with new determination, Boniface reached out and gently grasped the archangel’s member. Leaning forward, he softly kissed the tip.
“That’s nice, boy, but there’s no need to be coy.” With that, he seized Boniface’s head and forced his way into the boy’s mouth. Boniface gagged and began to choke at the invasion. Lucifer pulled his head further forward.
“Ah, that’s better. Watch your teeth.” He leaned against the pillar once more.
Boniface was smothered. He struggled to breathe as his head was forced back and forth on his master’s shaft.
“Do you know why I summoned you, Boniface? Don’t answer that.” Lucifer chuckled to himself and continued to work the boy. “I summoned you because, out of all the hosts, you remind me most of myself. But I see you wavering, see you shying away from the greatness you could achieve. Oh, yes, you could be truly great someday, I can see it.” His breathing began to grow ragged. Boniface felt numb, both from the abuse and the shock at his master’s words of praise. He relaxed in spite of himself.
“Ooh, yeah, that’s a good boy.” The archangel fucked his mouth harder and continued his speech.
“There is a lot of talk about love now, and doubtless there will be more in the days to come. You’ll know more about them soon. But let me tell you something about love, Boniface. It’s the reason I called you here. The most important lesson to learn.”
For the first time since their encounter began, Boniface grew genuinely excited. He wrapped his arms around his master’s thighs and took control of the movement. He ran his tongue wildly along Lucifer’s cock and pushed it deeper into his own throat than he would have thought possible, using his hands to pleasure what he couldn’t reach. Lucifer braced himself against the pillar and rode the assault, smirking at this new development.
“I must tell you about love, Boniface.” With a guttural groan he ripped the eager mouth away and covered the boy’s face with his seed.
Boniface sat there, dripping, confused and aroused. He looked at his master, who slid catlike to sit on the floor next to him. The archangel leaned ever closer, and Boniface thought for a mad moment that he was about to be kissed.
Lucifer grabbed his chin and turned his head harshly to the side.
“There is no such thing as love,” he whispered harshly, “Only power, and those unafraid to wield it.”
As if nothing had ever happened, he was on his feet, donning a robe of dark red silk. He threw a towel at Boniface, still stunned on the floor. “Clean yourself up and get the hell out. You are dismissed.”
The boy did as he was told. He was nothing if not obedient.
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Ahahahaha! I had totally forgotten about this one. Yes, that is THE Lucifer, and the abovementioned Boniface, except in this story I think he's about 13. And aw... my first blowjob fic. So yeah, dub-con oral sex between an adult and a minor. Goddamn, I am a sick fuck sometimes...
There you go, Ru-chan! Now you can keep them with you all the way in Japan. ^_^
These are presented primarily for hers and my personal nostalgia factor. ^_^ But there's still some pretty good stuff in here. Slash, het, femmeslash, religious symbolism, belts, ANGST... Ah, memories. Listed in the order in which I wrote them. I think.
Untitled Boniface/Innocent non-con drabble
He wanted to scream, but not this time. He wouldn't give Boniface the satisfaction anymore. The older man had him chained to the table, the tight leather cuffs cutting into his tender wrists, and he could feel the warmth of his own blood running slowly into his hands. Another pair of scars to join the many that criss-crossed his forearms. Innocent savored the thought. He hated Boniface, but loved to bear the marks. In some perverse way he did not entirely understand, they made him feel special. Distantly, he heard a buckle being undone. Boniface did love belts. Innocent pressed his face into the heavy wood and waited. He had done this before.
Boniface loved his little fucktoy. It showed in every bruise, every welt, every snakelike cut that left whisper thin white scars on pale skin. He loved the cries, the pleas for mercy, the tear stained screams that left the boy's throat raw and bleeding and so very hot around his cock. He shivered with lust at the memory, and ran rough hands down Innocent's back. Innocent was still and silent, and didn't seem to notice him at all. For all Boniface could tell, the boy might well be asleep behind those closed eyes. In a fluid, familiar motion, he unbuckled the the leather strap on his shoulder. Innocent would scream for him, eventually. He always did.
Ensconced in his cavern of computers and cables, Urban heard a distant scream of pain. With very little thought, he turned the volume on his monitors up. Not that he particularly cared what Boniface got up to in their spare time, but he did hope there would be no visible scars on Innocent. It was always awkward to get notes from teachers regarding the boy. Politely phrased, always, but always with that underlying fear of abuse. If they only knew... Urban made a noise not entirely unlike a laugh, and went back to his work.
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This was my first real foray into writing smut. Rough and awkward in places, I still like the idea behind it. Contains dubiously consensual S&M between and adult and a minor. See? I was doing it before it was fashionable. ^_^
Hello
Arma closed her eyes tightly to block out the wasteland surrounding her. The once verdant landscape was stained black with the blood of the fallen. A great battle had been fought here, and neither side had been victorious. Forcing herself to open her eyes and walk, she surveyed the ravaged landscape for survivors.
"I should have been here," she thought aloud. "They needed me." Damn Samael and his games; his distractions.
The field was devoid of all life. Arma looked from corpse to corpse, hoping fervently that one being had survived. She stopped suddenly as she realized exactly who it was she was thinking of.
"Lamia."
And yet, it wasn't really surprising. Lamia had always been there, whether she was wanted or not, always willing to please. She had a light that illuminated even the darkest corners of the heart, and Arma wasn't sure she could live if that light went out.
Wasn't sure she wanted to.
Off to her right, something made a sound. A small wounded cough. "Hello?" she called out.
"I knew you'd make it," said a weak voice.
Her heart sped up. "Lamia? Lamia, where are you?"
"I'm sorry I can't go very fast. It's hard to see." A thin figure was walking towards her very slowly. Arma ran out to meet her, a relieved smile on her face. She wanted to hold Lamia tightly and never let her go, and leave all this mess behind. Before she could, Lamia fell to the ground hard. Worried, Arma knelt beside her and for the first time realized how severe her injuries were. Lamia was bleeding from a gash on her forehead, and a massive puncture wound in her stomach. Her right leg was broken, and her entire body was covered in bruises and dirt.
"Oh god, Lamia. You're hurt."
"Yeah. It was a battle, you know." she managed a feeble laugh and Arma smiled in response.
"I knew you'd get here, Arma, but I think you missed the good part."
"No, finding you alive is the good part," Arma said, and Lamia grinned. Tearing fabric from her own clothing and the bodies strewn around them, Arma tried to bandage her friend's wounds. After several minutes, the blood was still flowing freely from her head and stomach.
"I don't think I've ever seen you so worried," Lamia laughed softly.
"I can't get the bleeding to stop! Why won't it stop?" Arma was panicking. "Oh god, Lamia, I don't want you to die."
"I don't think I'm dying. It's... It's just really dark."
Arma was lost. "Please. Please, just hang on! I'll save you, Lamia, I swear!"
"I know you will," Lamia whispered. Gathering her strength, she sat up and leaned in closer to Arma, as if to kiss her. "You always do."
Arma strained forward to close the distance between their lips. Lamia's head fell back and her body became a dead weight in her friend's arms. Arma buried her face in Lamia's neck and tried to remember how to breathe as the night closed in around her.
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Is it me you're looking for? Lots of angst and blood, but not in the sexy way. Written at about 3 am listening to Lionel Richie.
Hold
Arma suddenly opened her eyes. She didn't know where she was.
Blackness stretched unbroken as far as the eye could see. She felt like she couldn't move. Leather hugged her torso, comforting and tight, and she knew she was geared for battle. No enemies could be seen, and Arma was afraid.
There was a soft noise behind her; an almost imperceptible exhalation of breath. She tried to turn around and failed. A sharp laugh broke the silence.
"Whatsa matter? Can't move?" A voice mocked her from the darkness.
"Who are you?" Arma demanded.
"Now, now," the voice admonished, "You're hardly in the position to be asking the questions here. But maybe I have been a little rude." There was a bright flash, and Arma found herself in the center of a circle of light. The force holding her released, and she collapsed to the ground.
A man walked into the circle. He was dressed in what seemed to be a vast array of belts, and very little else. Mostly, he wore bare skin and a wicked expression. It was a good look for him, honestly. His hair was white, with a brown stripe down the center; sort of a reverse skunk thing. A skunk mullet. Arma smiled at that, despite the situation. The man walked over to her and hauled her roughly to her feet. His eyes traveled slowly up her body, and she shivered involuntarily when their eyes met.
"So, you're my counterpart, huh? I thought you'd have bigger boobs than that." He let go of her, and she stumbled back. Counterpart? She was confused by that remark, but Arma never was one to let an insult slide.
"Funny," she retorted, "I thought you'd have better hair than that."
He looked at her for a second, briefly stunned. Then he threw his head back and laughed, a rich, melodious sound that echoed through Arma's head like razorblades. The man stepped in front of her and grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.
"I like you," he said, still chuckling low in his chest. He moved in even closer, and Arma fought the urge to blush at his proximity.
"The feeling isn't mutual" she spat.
The hand on her chin released its grip and gently caressed her cheek. Her eyes closed of their own volition at the light touch. She felt his laugh rather than heard it; felt hot breath on her ear. "But you don't even know me," he whispered seductively. "I can be very nice..." He kissed her cheek. "Very nice indeed." Arma opened her eyes in shock as he leaned in to kiss her lips. Summoning all her strength, she shoved him away. He took a step back of his own will, rather than any force of hers. "What's wrong, Flats? Don't like men?"
"Don't like you" she responded harshly. He laughed again, low and rumbling, then launched himself at her. Arma found herself completely pinned to the floor by the man, who leaned over her with a malicious and triumphant expression.
"Like it rough, do you?" he asked, slamming her wrists to the floor over her head. "That can be arranged." One-handed, he began to pull at the straps of her uniform, licking and biting flesh as it was exposed. Arma felt humiliated. She was afraid, and desperate to escape the stranger's clutches.
"Please stop." she ordered, trying to sound authoritative. He took no notice of her, but continued with his efforts. Despite her mind's resistance, her body was beginning to respond to the man's actions. "Stop! Get off me!" she pleaded, her control eroding quickly. "Please..." Her voice was little more than a panicked sob.
"I like it when you beg." the man said, nibbling on her neck. "Do it some more." He bucked his hips into her sharply, and she yelped in surprise. "Ooh, even better. Let's see what sounds I can get you to make."
Arma opened her mouth to retort, to scream, to moan, to do something... but no sound came out. She tried to take a breath and couldn't. She was suffocating. The man atop her ceased what he was doing and looked up. "Damn it! She always gets in the way." he said cryptically. He stood up, adjusted his belts, and smirked at her. "Later, Flats," he said. "I have the feeling we'll be seeing a lot of each other." And he was gone.
Arma was panicking. She was going to die if she couldn't take a breath soon. She closed her eyes and tried to will air into her body.
She sat bolt upright in bed and gasped loudly for breath. She looked around and saw that she was in her room. Lamia was standing next to her bed, holding her school uniform, and wearing the most impatient expression.
"I'm sorry, Sunshine, but we were gonna be late if you slept any later. So get your ass out of bed!" Lamia tossed the clothes at her and headed for the door. She looked back over her shoulder and smiled wryly. "You'll have to tell me about that dream you were having, sometime. Sounded kinda kinky." She winked and left the room laughing.
So it had been a dream. A very disturbing, very graphic dream. Arma shook her head as she got dressed. It had felt so real. She blushed at the memory and grabbed her bag, determined to figure it out after school.
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Oh, Boniface... Your dialogue was so fun to write, you magnificent bastard. Hetfic! Contains some non-consensual sexual situations. Lots of mindfuckery.
Home
Maris snuck in the front door, and took off her shoes. She didn't want to wake anyone up, coming home at... was it really a quarter to two?
Tonight had been Marty's birthday, and he would not accept that Maris had to go home directly after work when there was partying to do. He pulled the guilt card by accusing her that she just didn't care about her dear old boss, and she agreed to go out for an hour or two.
That had been around nine o'clock.
She called home after they closed the restaurant and told Vesta she would be home a little late. But she had no idea that she would be out all night, and she didn't want to call again in case she woke someone up. Probably Neiva, and she wouldn't say anything about it openly, but she would hold it against Maris for a long time.
It was late and she should just go to bed, but her stomach was growling and interfering with the whole "stealth" effect she was going for. A little side trip to the kitchen, and she would be off to bed.
Vesta had probably been worried. Maris felt awful about that. Vesta was her friend, and meant a lot to her, and she hated to see the poor girl upset. That was part of the reason she was being so quiet. She didn't want to wake Vesta, because Vesta would make a big fuss about her and want to make sure she was all right. Maris smiled at the thought of Vesta zipping around her, asking a million questions. She felt so lucky to have such a good friend.
Opening the door to the kitchen, Maris stopped short. Vesta was sitting there, fast asleep, with her head on the table. Had she waited up all night?
"Vesta?" Maris whispered, trying to judge how deeply asleep the girl was. Vesta didn't respond, except to snore softly and snuggle her head further into her arms. Maris figured it was probably safe enough to fix a sandwich, then she'd carry her friend to a more comfortable place to sleep. She opened the fridge. "Leftover meatloaf, huh? Yummy."
"Maris?" a sleepy voice asked from behind her, "Maris, is that you?"
She walked over to the table and ran her fingers through Vesta's hair. "Yeah, it's me."
"You didn't come home. I waited for you"
"I'm sorry, Vesta. Marty wouldn't let me go. It was his birthday, after all. And I wanted to call, but I didn't want to wake you up, because you've been working really hard lately, and..."
"Maris?"
"Yeah?"
The dark haired girl put a finger to her friend's lips. "You're talking too fast."
Maris laughed, "That's a switch, isn't it?" The laughter was contagious. Maris turned back to the fridge to see what she could make of that meatloaf.
"Are you hungry?" Vesta asked, standing and stretching her back, "I saved you some dinner."
Maris smiled. "My savior!" she said, as she sat down at the table. Vesta walked over to the microwave and turned it on. Thirty seconds later, she pulled out a warm plate covered with plastic wrap. She removed the wrap with a flourish, revealing...
""Fishsticks!" Maris exclaimed. "Just what I was hungry for."
"Well, good. Because you're not leaving this room until that plate is empty." Vesta smiled and sat down across from her friend. "Did you have fun?"
Maris paused between bites. "I suppose. Marty just wouldn't quit. He wanted to party all night long. He's getting a little old for it, though. It was fun, but it felt like there was something missing to me."
"Missing?"
"Yeah. Or like there was somewhere I'd rather be."
"Well, you wouldn't have rather been here! Lamia and Arma got into it again, and Ora had a bad day at school, and Neiva had a bad day at... wherever it is she goes everyday. Or maybe she didn't, I dunno, she's always kinda like that. Finished?" Vesta asked. But it was a rhetorical question, as the plate had been empty for several minutes.
"Yes," Maris mock whined, "even the vegetables. Can I have dessert now, Mom?" She winked and Vesta and stuck out her tongue.
"Not with that attitude, young lady," Vesta retorted, laughing. "And besides, I don't even think we have anything dessert-like around here." She began opening and closing the cabinets, "Well, no. Lamia has some candy around here somewhere that she thinks no one knows about. Oh, but I can't find it! I suppose I could run down to the convenience store and get you some ice cream or something if you..." She was cut short by Maris stepping closely in front of her and putting a finger against her lips.
"Vesta," she whispered.
Vesta's breath caught in her throat. "Y-yes?" she managed.
"You're talking too fast." Maris smiled and lowered her hand. Vesta grabbed it, and held it tightly.
"I just want you to be happy, Maris."
Maris laughed softly, "I am happy, Vesta. Mission accomplished."
Vesta beamed up at her. "I'm glad. I'm so glad!" Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes.
Worried, Maris wrapped her arms around her friend. "Vesta, what's wrong?"
The dark haired girl shook her head, and pressed her face against Maris's neck.
"No, tell me."
"It's nothing." Vesta said. "I was just really worried about you. I miss you when you aren't here."
"Oh, Vesta." Maris sighed and pulled the girl closer, "I miss you too. There's nowhere I would rather be than spending time with you. I'm sorry I made you upset. I'm sorry I was so late."
Vesta pulled away from the embrace and looked her friend in the eyes. "Really?"
"Absolutely." Maris said. "I care a lot about you."
Vesta didn't know what to say, or even if she should say anything. She could feel the blush radiating from her face, and realized it was pretty stupid to act this way around her best friend. Rather than say anything, she leaned in and brushed her lips against the blue haired girl's, hoping Maris would understand.
Maris inhaled sharply in shock, but didn't move away. Vesta... Vesta kissed her. "It should be weird," she thought, "kissing my best friend." But it wasn't. It felt natural. Like coming home. "Home," she whispered softly. She closed her eyes and returned the kiss.
After a moment, the two girls parted. Maris looked down at her friend. She was so beautiful, standing there with her eyes closed and a faint blush staining her cheeks. Maris leaned down and kissed her again. Vesta wrapped her arms around her friend's neck and held her tightly.
"I think I figured it out, Vesta." Maris said softly.
"Figured what out?" the dark haired girl asked.
"What was missing." Maris brushed a stray lock of hair from her friend's face. Vesta sighed and leaned into the touch. Maris smiled at her. "You. This. This was what was missing."
Vesta pulled her friend close once again. "Just don't ever leave me." she whispered.
"Don't worry," Maris replied, planting a kiss on Vesta's forehead. "I'm not going anywhere."
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Girls in luuuuuuv. ^_^
Untitled Lucifer/Boniface non-con fic
Boniface entered the great room nervously; acutely aware of the sound his bare feet made against the cool marble. slap...slap...slap The room appeared to be empty, and the boy was more confused than ever.
“Sir?” he asked timidly. He had been summoned to Lucifer’s chambers, a rare thing for others his age, and he had been shining with pride and excitement at the honor his master was giving him. But now Lucifer was nowhere to be seen.
There was little furniture, save the enormous bed that dominated the center of the room. It belied his master’s desire for rich and beautiful things. Silken pillows were scatterered lushly on the satin covers. Boniface smiled. It was funny to think of his warlike master, so masculine and aggressive, sleeping on such a girly bed.
“Something funny?” A rich baritone inquired.
Boniface wheeled around. Lucifer was leaning against a column as if he’d always been there. Instantly, the boy was on one knee before him.
“M-Master! I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were there.”
Lucifer laughed, a deep sound like the growling of a great cat. “Didn’t know that I was in my room? When I had summoned you to meet me?” He shifted out of his leaning pose and crossed his arms. “Boniface, I thought you were smarter than that.”
Boniface didn’t know what to say. He chose to keep silent, his eyes glued to the floor.
“Get up.” Lucifer stood in front of him, tall and stern and terrible. The boy began to rise, but a hand on his head stopped him. “Or better yet, make yourself useful, as long as you’re on your knees.”
“My lord?”
The hand tightened in his hair. It was almost painful, but Boniface said nothing. Lucifer unbuckled the clasp that held his loincloth in place.
Boniface gasped, seeing his master revealed. Surely, he hadn’t been summoned here for this?
His head was pulled up sharp, the grip on his hair certainly drawing blood.
“You heard me, boy. Don’t play dumb. No one likes an idiot.”
He would have hung his head in shame, if Lucifer hadn’t been holding it. To his surprise, it wasn’t shame at being used by his master, or even being admonished by him. He risked a glance upward.
“My lord, I... I don’t...”
The archangel jerked him to his feet and pulled his face close. “Listen to me, boy” he spat, “I have been angered today, and I have been wronged and denied in the worst of ways. It will not happen again. You will do as I say!” He threw Boniface roughly to the floor.
The boy crawled to his knees. He bowed his head reverently.
“I’m sorry, Master, but you misunderstand.” Lucifer’s eyes flared in wrath. Boniface met his gaze evenly.
“I want to serve you, Lord. But I don’t know how.”
A moment passed in tense silence. The archangel burst into loud, hard laughter. The boy’s face reddened and he felt tears beginning to rise.
At length, his master’s outburst subsided. “Boniface, Boniface...” His hair was affectionately ruffled. “You just put your mouth on it. Do I have to spell everything out for you?”
Tentatively, but with new determination, Boniface reached out and gently grasped the archangel’s member. Leaning forward, he softly kissed the tip.
“That’s nice, boy, but there’s no need to be coy.” With that, he seized Boniface’s head and forced his way into the boy’s mouth. Boniface gagged and began to choke at the invasion. Lucifer pulled his head further forward.
“Ah, that’s better. Watch your teeth.” He leaned against the pillar once more.
Boniface was smothered. He struggled to breathe as his head was forced back and forth on his master’s shaft.
“Do you know why I summoned you, Boniface? Don’t answer that.” Lucifer chuckled to himself and continued to work the boy. “I summoned you because, out of all the hosts, you remind me most of myself. But I see you wavering, see you shying away from the greatness you could achieve. Oh, yes, you could be truly great someday, I can see it.” His breathing began to grow ragged. Boniface felt numb, both from the abuse and the shock at his master’s words of praise. He relaxed in spite of himself.
“Ooh, yeah, that’s a good boy.” The archangel fucked his mouth harder and continued his speech.
“There is a lot of talk about love now, and doubtless there will be more in the days to come. You’ll know more about them soon. But let me tell you something about love, Boniface. It’s the reason I called you here. The most important lesson to learn.”
For the first time since their encounter began, Boniface grew genuinely excited. He wrapped his arms around his master’s thighs and took control of the movement. He ran his tongue wildly along Lucifer’s cock and pushed it deeper into his own throat than he would have thought possible, using his hands to pleasure what he couldn’t reach. Lucifer braced himself against the pillar and rode the assault, smirking at this new development.
“I must tell you about love, Boniface.” With a guttural groan he ripped the eager mouth away and covered the boy’s face with his seed.
Boniface sat there, dripping, confused and aroused. He looked at his master, who slid catlike to sit on the floor next to him. The archangel leaned ever closer, and Boniface thought for a mad moment that he was about to be kissed.
Lucifer grabbed his chin and turned his head harshly to the side.
“There is no such thing as love,” he whispered harshly, “Only power, and those unafraid to wield it.”
As if nothing had ever happened, he was on his feet, donning a robe of dark red silk. He threw a towel at Boniface, still stunned on the floor. “Clean yourself up and get the hell out. You are dismissed.”
The boy did as he was told. He was nothing if not obedient.
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Ahahahaha! I had totally forgotten about this one. Yes, that is THE Lucifer, and the abovementioned Boniface, except in this story I think he's about 13. And aw... my first blowjob fic. So yeah, dub-con oral sex between an adult and a minor. Goddamn, I am a sick fuck sometimes...
There you go, Ru-chan! Now you can keep them with you all the way in Japan. ^_^