Trouble Cometh

"I intruded. I'm sorry."

What seemed like honest and sincere shame danced those shared mental thoughts as you felt her own mind draw back from yours. While she did not venture back mentally, she did seem to brighten again, albeit slightly at the imparted knowledge. That kiss however, bashful or not offered so willingly drew a tiny little moan from her. One of her hands would lift to slip into your hair. Just the tiniest guidance to the angle of the kiss as her tongue would hesitantly dart out to tease at your lips. A curious questioning of permission to press further. It was all too clear that if the invasion was not welcome that it would be withdrawn.

That tongue did catch him off guard. He wasn't sure at first what to do with it. But his body took over and he nipped, pulled and sucked on that tongue, almost like he was trying to pull it from her mouth. The hand on her boob squeezed gently, the soft mound squishing in his fingers sent a spark down between his legs. He was so ready to service her. He just wished he was more knowledgeable to perform better.

It was a surprisingly delicate sound that danced from her lips to mingle with your breath when you responded so deftly to her request to further that kiss. To deepen it to something not so chaste, not so pure. There was no doubt to your mind that it was a good sound. As you began to gently explore her, you would begin to hear the softest humming. Almost like something was charging, yet it wasn't by any means unpleasant. You might have almost thought you imagined it had you not begun to feel gentle vibrations running through her.

He stopped. Confused. He looked down at her innocently 'Umm....are you supposed to be doing that?' He hadn't moved away from her, save to relieve his back. He was still very much in her face, simply inquiring about whether he should be concerned.

Her cheeks colored just the softest hint of rose at your question, a quiet, almost awkward clearing of her throat your initial answer. Flipping the bottom of her shirt up just enough that you could see some of the stitching, you would realize that it was glowing faintly. Not only was it glowing, but were you to run a fingertip along it, you would realize that it was vibrating ever so softly. Flipping the shirt back down,

"It's not a bad thing. It's just ever only happened once before. Well more like just with one person and that was a very long time ago."

His fingers would indeed accept the offer to touch not just her flesh, but the stitching. He seemed to become entranced by it. Even pouting slightly when she recovered herself, such to the point he moved his hand when she did it, then re-uncovered her tummy to continue rubbing around that stitching. Mentally she could see the 2+2=4 and lit light bulb in his head as he blushed again, hard.

Laughing quietly at the blush, in a truly amused, not malicious way, she rubbed the pad of her thumb gently along your cheek. Making no attempt to recover herself once you'd tugged her shirt back up, she peered up at you curiously.

"Why are you blushing ? You're not the one whose body acts like a veritable mood ring meets the energizer bunny when you're both physically AND mentally stimulated by a person."

Her question didn't seem angry or begrudging whatsoever, just a touch embarrassed and a lot intrigued.

He reacted, not saying anything, but seemed intent on something as maneuvered out from under her head. He bounced to the other side of the table. He faced away from her for only a moment but turned, and as he did he pulled the beanie from his head and dropped it to the table. His sweater came next being set next to the beanie. His hands seemed to shake as he peeled his t-shirt off of his torso, exposing flesh marred with scars. Long lashes, small circles, discolored spots littered his flesh. From neck to waist. He paid them no mind, and continued his face red. His pants hit the floor and he looked away from her towards the floor on the other side of the room, to his right. His boxers didn't leave much to the imagination, and he was feeling his own body currently.

Any confusion she had about your actions was very short-lived and was met by instant appreciation. Or was at least until she saw what lay beneath. Because she had never pulled her shirt down, you would see the stitching suddenly spike to angry lines that were a blur between a midnight black and a violent green, almost as if they were signs of a storm brewing. Slowly pushing up to her feet, it was almost stalking how she moved towards you. Upon reaching you, she did a slow circle around you before coming to stand in front of you again. You could see the shifter nature that was part of her creation bleeding through into her gaze as she slowly sank to her knees. You would realize why rather quickly. Setting her hands to your hips, she began to mark by singular mark press little kisses here, licks there. The occasional nip was placed as well as she worked her way up your body until she reached your neck and was standing again.

"You are beautiful. Fuck whoever did that to you. By the God's grace may they be dead already."

The look of satisfaction that crossed his features, in his mindscape she could see a memory. One of him on his knees, clutching at a pile of ash. The feeling of pure joy and happiness that filled him, the blood that covered his hands 'Not God's grace. By mine. She finally pushed me to far' his body did not give away how sensitive his flesh was, and for an outsider looking in it would seem he was ready. Ready to be what she needed him to be, or do what she needed him to. He was ready to be a Good Boy for her.

There was a slow, steadying breath that was exhaled, her forehead resting lightly against yours as she glimpsed the memory of the death of she who had so marked you. Nuzzling her way gently into your throat, a gesture more sensual than sexual, she seemed to just draw in your scent. Oddly enough as she did, it seemed to calm her further. Finally drawing back to look at you, it was an almost rueful grin.

"I'm going to feel horrible when Grigori shows up with food and we don't answer the door. What do you think ? Hang the do not disturb sign ?"

He actually shook his head 'No.' He seemed to have more to say but seemed embarrassed. He awkwardly looked down at himself before nodding to himself and stepped over to his bag 'I...umm..have only one request' He turned back to her holding to strips of leather. One shorter looking to only be long enough and wide enough to be a collar of some form, the other a leash 'Would you be ok using these?' His mind was wild at the thought of this.

It was an entirely playful smile as she started to say something only to be interrupted by a persistent knock at the door. Blinking in absolute disbelieve at the timing, she barely managed to stifle the giggle of exasperation.

"Hold that thought. I'll be right back."

Scurrying over to a small box that rested on the nearby desk, she popped it open before scooping something out. Nearly scampering over to the door, she opened it enough to retrieve the cart. Handing over whatever was in her palm, you would hear her snort before she shut the door again. Wheeling the cart into the room, the glorious smells of food were already permeating the air. Shooting a look back over at you,

"Now where were we before we were so rudely interrupted ?"

He placed the Collar and Leash on the table next to his drink, and walked over to the cart practically drooling 'Its been so long since I've had good gravy, and it smells divine!' He only smelled though. His mind having fallen completely into sub space he looked at her 'You were about to say something' he waited until he was told he could eat. Hell she probably could have told him to go murder someone and eat their liver and he might have. Why was she so able to get him to drop like this. He pondered, but didn't care. He was enjoying where his mind was at, and what was happening. She could have him, however she wanted him.

"Grigori is an exceptional cook. Or so the smells have said. Ive just never had a reason to order before. Though he did say something when he called about breakfast. Crazy old coot somehow knew I'd have a guest tonight. And what we'd order. It's apparently how he had it ready so quickly. That was a bet unexpectedly lost. Also unexpectedly pleasantly lost. But please... While I'm rambling, your food is getting cold. Come. Sit. Eat with me."

As she spoke, she opened one of the meals and began preparing the plate. Presuming that you'd sit in the spot beside hervthat she'd patted, she'd get a perfectly balanced bite of the food before holding it up to your mouth.

"I've never put a collar on someone before, much less a leash. But I'd be willing to try if it would make you happy."

Obediently he sits with her and accepts the food trying not to moan at the savory flavor of the gravy. Any fork full put in front of him would disappear instantly. Like a malnourished puppy he was. 'I can just put it on myself.' He eyed the black leather that sat on the table where he left it. He'd had it for a long time and one would think that he'd want to get rid of it, but no. He was to attached to it. The bubble it gave him was irreplaceable. He smiled and chomped the bit held in front of him chewing happily, even closing his eyes, smiling and bouncing. He looked over at her and squinted at her 'Do you eat? Like do you require sustenance?'

She was all too willing to continue cutting into the dish and feed you bite after bite. Shaking herchead slightly,

"It's not that I don't know how. Or that I'm not willing, I just never have. I'm just usually not on that side of the coin, and when I am, there's never been things like that involved. I'd like to actually try if you're willing, but only once you've finished eating. If I may ask though... Would you be willing to have them replaced ? Obviously still a leash and collar, but ones that can hold different, better memories ?"

There was no forcefulness to her line of questions, just true and sincere curiosity. As she fed you, she would intersperse drinks of your soda as well. Your question had her drawing pause.

"I can eat. I do like doing it, though usually socially. I do require sustenance, but not like what you eat. Think more like a vampire."

'I drink blood to' were the first words thought back to her 'Kinda have to gain there immortality.' His eyes fell back to his collar when she mentioned it 'I have thought about. And I decided against it. The collar didn't make any decisions. But what what did do was give me comfort' He looked at her and smiled as he took another bite 'The memories I have with it are good ones.' He swallowed and giggled 'Well. Good enough'

"Oh. Things you learn. You might say I'm a little under informed about certain types. Yes, it looks like my ignorance is showing through in spades tonight."

She was quite cheerful about it though as she set the now empty dishes aside on the cart. Pulling free the second order, she held up another perfectly sculpted bite in question.

"Do you wear the collar outside of the bedroom or is it just a behind closed doors type of thing ? If I ask too many questions, feel free to tell me to go get bent."

'Only if you wish to be bent over' He blushed as he chewed that fresh bite 'I would love to wear it all the time....but don't trust society enough for that' He reached down and gently retrieved the strap of leather and held it to his neck to fasten it 'Of the 5 holes I prefer the 4th, on the tighter side. I still need to breathe, but its whats comfortable for me'

While there may not have been the most obvious of physical reactions to that first comment, due to the mix of vocal and mental communicae occurring you would get to observe the fact that the mental image that gave her did infact trip certain triggers for her. Triggers that were quite deliciously good.

Setting the fork down before offering you another bite, she gently nudged your hands aside so that she could do the fastening of it herself now that she knew how to do it in the way you preferred.

"I was kind of curious if you needed to breathe or not. I should write a book on all of this. Ghouls 101 ? Ghouls for Dummies ?"

'Blood soup for the Ghouled Soul?' He smiled and then immediately bit his lip as he felt her take over and synch the leather tightly onto his neck. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing trying to keep himself calm. It wasn't working. He turned to look at her and he knew, that his eyes betrayed him. He wanted her to take him, use and abuse him and spit him out into the cold like a dirty little slut boy. Those images he had glimpsed in her mind had his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers, his arousal quite apparent.

Your idea drew a rolling purr of a laugh from her as she reached over and snatched up your glass. Turning it so that her lips would kiss the rim where yours had, she took a quick drink or two before setting it down.

Moving gracefully to her feet, she scooped up a small controller from the table and used it to dim the lighting to the rooms. Once that was done, she tossed it down before stripping out of her own clothing. Once she was fully nude, she moved step back closer. Tugging your boxers down, she would help you out of them before chucking them over her shoulder.

"We'll find those again later. Or I'll just keep you as my prisoner."

There was a playful poke of her tongue at the last comment before you would find yourself pushed back onto the couch so that you could sit where she had been. Following you down so that she was straddling you, she didn't exactly give you time to stop her or comment before she simply impaled herself on your cock.

While there was no barrier to shatter through of true virginity, she was insanely tight. Almost as if sex had not happened for her in quite the very long time. Tight enough that there was a low hiss of pain at the suddenness of the penetration, though you could both smell and feel, she was quite okay with it.

He not only didn't complain, but seemed to be able to predict what she wanted, although his stillness was abundantly clear. Hands at his sides the wild look in his eye coupled with the images flying through his head of the memories. The triggers kept firing....but he kept side stepping them with two words she would hear like a whisper being repeated 'Not her.' As she settled that tight warmth gripping him, and the pleasure that washed over her had him relaxing. He shakily raised his hands to rest on her shoulders. The wild look melted away leaving behind a bright starry eyed young man staring up at her his chest heaving 'Please Mistress' just saying that elated him, his mental voice got huskier and more eager 'How can I help? How can I be good for you? Good to you?'

Those memories. The rapid fire snippets she was able to catch had her body tensing. Yes that meant that she instinctively tightened around where you were buried in her but it was also a good thing her hands were on the couch, not you. For the briefest second you would feel rage from her that would do a shifter proud.

The feel of your hands on her shoulders though, the sound of your voice, though perhaps most importantly the way your eyes looked up at her helped her shove it back. Helped kick the rage back into it's pretty little box and lock it away. The eyes that looked back at you were dark. True pure pools of colorless night that could suck you into them and never let you out again. Resting her forehead against yours, it was a tremor laced giggle that tumbled from her lips.

"I may have forgotten to mention I have anger issues. I'm so going to need to replace this couch. So going to be worth it. Was an ugly thing anyways. But Mistress.... That's new. I think I like it. For one, you did just help. You just called me back to myself quicker than I believed possible. With just a touch. How can you be good for me though ? Simple. Enjoy this ? Enjoy me. You feel divine already just being inside me. But if I must name a specific thing ? I actually like being bit."