TEST DRIVE MEME: TWO

[loveskulls]

SCENARIO ONE:
There are many reasons you could find yourself in the depths of the forest. Foraging, hunting, a task set by the mistress or rumors of a plant that grants unfathomable powers once consumed. Whatever the reason may be, you’re in the depths of it now. The flora and fauna seems quite similar to a normal, earth forest. Only it’s rich, green, filled with pastel flowers and leaves and barely touched by humanity. The forest giveth and taketh and the villagers know better than to take advantage of it, particularly when more sinister beings lie in the darker depths of it.

Like, y’know. Bears and shit.

The animals of the forest enjoy playing games with humans. They’ve figured out that the new batches of people don’t seem to realise they can talk, and they revel in starting conversations and stopping them as soon as they realise another human is approaching. They do this so you look mad, of course. They will lie, telling you that eating or drinking certain things within the forest can grant you awesome powers. More often than not, they’re doing it to watch you eat aphrodisiac flowers or drink normal water and act high and mighty.

Plants are also tricky. The mushrooms in the forest are said to taste delicious, like beef and chicken (and they go great in pasta). This information comes from villagers, but they tell you to pick fast and not to linger, because the mushrooms are sly.

What they don’t tell you is that the mushrooms talk too. Not only will they beg you to spare them, they can sense your deepest insecurities and share them with the world, chiming in unison about your deepest secrets loud enough to let everyone in the area hear.

Flowers can release fumes that addle the mind. You see visions of beautiful people and feel compelled to run into their arms, unaware that you’re making out with a tree or a bear. Others are less insidious, simply releasing pleasant fumes that make you want to spoon in the grass and cuddle for hours in the cold forest.

SCENARIO TWO:
On the outskirts of the kingdom, there are rumors of several magical fountains hidden in mountains or forests. Whether you are sent by The Mistress or tasked to do it by rich diplomats for a hefty sum, you have good reason to find them.


One fountain is incredible to look at. The marble carving is ornate and detailed and took an impressive amount of dedication from the petals of each flower to the spirals that surround them. The water will make you absolutely irresistible to those around you. One sip will drive those around you absolutely mad for you. Whether it be a desperate urge to fuck or a desperate urge to sing you sonnets and kiss your feet, they will want you.

One fountain has beautiful, marble figures carved into it. It will change you into the opposite sex, but the finest form of the opposite sex. The height of beauty and body standards, but just enough like yourself that you are almost recognisable.

One fountain is pretty plain. What you see is what you get, but there’s something satisfying about the simplicity. It is, of course, impressively gold plated despite lacking carvings. It grants you not only the desire to fuck, but the power to be the absolute best at it. There is nobody you can’t please, and you can please for hours on end without becoming tired. You are driven to give pleasure to all of those around you, and when allowed, you will absolutely succeed.

The quest to find these fountains is extremely difficult and water is sparse in the areas. It will be almost impossible to resist a small sip, but even the smallest sip can provide nearly an hours worth of effects. There’s plenty of water for you to drink and still fill the vials you’ve been provided, but there’s plenty of reason to be distracted.

SCENARIO THREE:
The Mistress frequently holds a ball, and everyone is always invited. Your outfit is not what you would have picked, really. In fact, you didn’t pick it at all. As soon as you walk through the door, the outfit you choose turns from modest to nearly non-existent. All clothing turns to lingerie or BDSM wear. Sensible pants are leather chaps, dresses are corsets, shoes are heeled and lace is nearly everywhere. The only thing you have to protect your dignity is a lovely, bedazzled mask.

The incense is strong as ever in Mistresses’ Ballroom. It has mild, aphrodisiac effects and seems to calm the nerves. Shot glasses of all colours line the tables, each which a little card in front of them with a vague title.

Red: Passion
(This one is simple, it grants you undeniable passion, lust and desire.)

Orange: Fierce
(Like Red, it offers lust but with a rough edge. It makes you want it, but it makes you want to give it or take it hard.)

Yellow: Sweet
(The kindest cocktail. It offers lust, but sweetly. It makes you want gentle kisses and soft touches.)

Green: Greed
(It sets your sights on more than one partner, possibly at once.)

Blue: Exhibition
(You don’t care where you are, anywhere will suffice. The more people who see, the better.)

Purple: Filthy
(This one encourages dirty talk. All of your words will become suggestive, all of your desires will slip out and some things you thought you’d never say are announced.)

Black: Kinky

(The most potent of all. This shot will cause you to want whips and chains. Dominance. Leather, even. Hope you’ve prepared a safeword.)

The drinks aren’t just on the tables, they’re passed around by scantily dressed waiters and waitresses and offered to you by fellow attendees. The effects are almost immediate, lasting roughly an hour depending on how many you ingest. They can, of course, be combined with other drinks for multiple effects.

The drinks and the drawers aren’t the only aspect of the party. The ballroom is beautiful and fearsome, the walls are decorated tastefully with the skulls of the Mistresses’ enemies. The theme seems to be blood and lust, almost everything is either black or red and the carvings and decorations all resemble skulls and bones. The music is enchanting and inspires rhythm in the worst dancers. This entire night is orchestrated to be an incredible, sexy spectacle for the Mistress and everyone here is merely a humble instrument to her visions.

Comments

[shieldofrohan]

"Like this?" Éowyn pushes her hips forwards a little, slow and steady, and tightens her muscles around him for a moment. Her eyes are fixed on his face, gauging his reaction, enjoying how utterly stunned he looks right now. She considers for a moment, then reaches over to guide his other hand onto her breast again.

This time, instead of just moving her hips against him, she lifts herself almost off him, then sinks back down - but still slow, still gentle. There's something rather dreamlike about all this.

[thefuckingbeam]

Eddie's grip tightens on her hip as he feels her squeeze around him, and his breath leaves him in a shaky exhale. "Exactly like that," he replies, kissing her on the chin. He doesn't have to be asked twice to touch her breasts, either; he cups her firmly, letting his thumb graze across her nipple, perfect and ripe and pink.

He rocks his hips in time with her movements, letting out a strangled groan when she lifts up and then sinks back down like that. "Fuck," he hisses into her shoulder, though there's no urgency in his voice. It's more like a prayer than anything else.

[shieldofrohan]

Her nipples are already hard as pebbles, and when he brushes his thumb over one of them, it pulls another moan out of her, a shiver running through her. She doesn't want to hurry, doesn't want this over, doesn't want this to ever, ever end. Nuzzling against his jaw, she once again trails kisses over his warm skin, her hips rising and sinking again, eyelids fluttering and fingers running through his hair.

"Say my name," she murmurs, against the skin below his ear. Then, on impulse, "Say you love me."

[thefuckingbeam]

That seemed to have been a good thing he just did; Eddie repeats the motion again, and gives her nipple a soft pinch, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. He's absolutely loving all this attention she's giving him, every little kiss and stroke of her fingers.

Her words barely phase him; a rational mind might stutter and stall at her request, a rational person might stop and sit up and tell her she's going too far, that they just met. But Eddie Dean has never been the most rational person at the best of times, and right now he's under the influence of some pretty potent drugs, and maybe, just maybe, there's a tiny bit of truth to it. Maybe this little bit of time he's spent with her has him drunk enough on her to love her. So he doesn't even think twice about it.

"I love you. Éowyn, I love you." His voice is low and soft and warm, his lips pressing softly against her temple.

[shieldofrohan]

She smiles, shifting her hips again, and lets out a shaky little moan. She knows it's strange to want to hear that now, when she knows full well this isn't love but lust... but it feels good to hear him say it, to feel herself wanted, to feel she's made her mark on him.

She doesn't say the same back to him, though. It might be kind, but it would not be honest. Instead, raising her head to look down at him, she murmurs "I have dreamed such things as this."

That, at least, is true - although she's more often touched herself to the thought of something more like their first fuck, raw and wild. But this is sweet, and tender, and there is a place for that, too.

[thefuckingbeam]

"Yeah?" Eddie's grin is shaky but it goes all the way to his eyes. He dips his head, plants warm, open-mouthed kisses at the base of her neck, between her collar bones.

"Think I'll be dreaming about this for a long time." His hand leaves her breast, only to be replaced by his mouth. His tongue laves her nipple in slow, wet strokes. He wants to worship every part of her, to show her exactly how good he can be—and he has no shame in that.

[shieldofrohan]

She opens her mouth to respond, but then his mouth is on her, and in the sharp wash of pleasure, all she can get out is a low, trembling sigh. His tongue feels every bit as good on her breasts as it did between her legs - although, in fairness, it probably helps that she already has something else between her legs. Something which she's currently tightening around again, her inner walls contracting with that new wave of ecstasy.

"I hope you will," she murmurs shakily, when she manages to find her voice, and laughs, low and dark.

[thefuckingbeam]

He closes his mouth around her nipple and sucks, teasing her with soft scrapes of his teeth, groaning into her skin as he feels her tighten around his cock. He pulls back just long enough to say, "It's a promise," before he's moving his attention to her other breast.

Eddie can feel the beginnings of his climax stirring in his gut, a slow, burning heat. He pushes it down; he has to wait. Has to see this thing through till the end, until Éowyn is completely satisfied.

[shieldofrohan]

She lets out a low grunt when he starts to suck, her fingers tensing in his hair, her hips grinding up against him. She's never come more than once before, and it doesn't feel like it should be possible, but she can feel her third climax building, delicious shivers running through her, sweat beading on her skin.

Her movements speed up - not much, but enough to be noticeable, as she pushes back to try and get him as deep as possible.

[thefuckingbeam]

Eddie's hands find her hips once again, and stay firm there, his thumbs rubbing against her hip bones as he guides her. He notices her picking up speed and obliges her by matching the upward rocking of his hips to her thrusts backward, trying to give her as much as he can possibly give.

Vaguely, Eddie wonders how long it's been—he feels like he's been lost in this warm, hazy evening for ages. Not that he's complaining, mind you. There's no way he'd rather have spent this night at this point.

[shieldofrohan]

Éowyn's moans come closer together now, her breath shaking, her eyes unfocused. It takes more and more effort to keep up a rhythm, to concentrate on what she's doing instead of just on the rush of ecstasy it's sending through her.

Finally, she gives in on trying to prolong things, and lets go. Orgasm hits her like a shield-blow, when it comes: her whole body arches, her mouth opening in an almost silent cry, her body tensing around him and her eyes flying open.

[thefuckingbeam]

He wants so badly to come, a realization that hits Eddie all too quickly; his climax is barely below a boil, now, simmering hot and heavy in his core, but he grits his teeth and makes himself keep it down low until Éowyn has reached her orgasm. He watches her with eyes hungry and dark, drinking in every movement, and he doesn't realize for a good minute that he's even talking to her. Coaxing her. "—that's right, come for me, let me watch you lose control, you're so fucking beautiful—" and so on and so forth.

Until, of course, she actually does climax, and Eddie can't quite believe he's managed to make her do that thrice, now. He immediately stops clamping down on his own climax, letting that slow burn of pleasure bubble to the surface, and he follows her soon after, his face screwed up in the sweetest agony, giving himself over to his orgasm with abandon.

[shieldofrohan]

When the wracking spasms of pleasure pass, Éowyn lets out a little laugh, letting herself fall forwards against him, chest on chest. There's a warm kind of pleasure suffusing her, a kind of peace she's rarely felt, and she closes her eyes, letting out a long, low sigh.

"You ought to speak so more often," she tells him with a smile, and turns her face up a little to kiss his jaw.

[thefuckingbeam]

Eddie's perfectly content to let her rest where she will; he's warm and drained and comfortable, a heavy fatigue settling in his limbs, but for now he's happy to enjoy this.

His hands rub absently across her lower back and the top of her ass, and he chuckles. "Oh, I'm sorry, didn't someone tell me not to speak?" He's absolutely teasing.

itt: éowyn has no sense of humour

[shieldofrohan]

She opens her mouth to argue, instinctively, then lets it close again. "That was some time ago," she says instead, with only a slightly aggrieved edge. "Do not hold me to it forever."

rip eddie dean

[thefuckingbeam]

Eddie watches her, and realizes that she completely missed the humor in his tone. He gives her a squeeze. "That was a joke. If you want me to talk....next time, I mean, if you want there to be a next time...well, hell, I'll talk all you want."

Sometimes it's worth it to tell someone what they want to hear. This is absolutely one of those times, in his view.

[shieldofrohan]

There's something almost shy in the look she gives him. The come-down's starting, and soon she'll realise what she just did, but for now...

"Do you?" Want there to be a next time.

[thefuckingbeam]

Idly, Eddie lifts a hand and twirls a few strands of her hair between his fingers. He looks at her with what is ostensibly a serious expression, but as always there's a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"I'm definitely not opposed. If we're gonna be stuck here, I figure we might as well enjoy ourselves." And it's not like they don't clearly have chemistry. To Eddie, it's a no-brainer.

[shieldofrohan]

Éowyn's eyes search his face, with an intensity that might be sort of off-putting. Then she smiles, relaxing up against him.

"If this is a dream," she says quietly, "may it be one that lasts. And I shall be glad to share it with you." And if it isn't a dream... well, the damage has been done already. Where's the harm in carrying it on?

end here?

[thefuckingbeam]

Well, to be fair, Eddie is used to intense. After Roland's icy stare, he can handle anything, he thinks. Still, he's glad to feel her relax again. He wraps his arms around her a little tighter, more than content to just...chill for a little bit. This is good. This is nice.

"A-fuckin' men," he agrees, his voice already a little muzzy. For all he knows, this is a dream. And Eddie Dean has had way worse dreams in his years.