Clever title by a clever girl (Leesha & cevl)

Leesha

Leesha

Moon
Joined
Dec 15, 2011
Location
Outeeeer Spaaaaaace
A young Breton woman knelt in a patch of nightshade, plucking the rich purple blooms and sliding them into a small satchel at her right hip. She didn't terribly need nightshade, but the color was her favorite and as she placed the last blossom in the satchel a nearly invisible smile pulled at the corners of her petite mouth. Standing proved to be more difficult than she had anticipated. Her knees ached slightly and the sudden rush of blood back into her shapely calves was less than her favorite sensation.

Almost as if on queue a gentle breeze rustled the tall grass and remaining flowers about her, sending a tantalizingly floral aroma into the air. She breathed in deeply through her nose and held it in for just a second before letting it seep out ever so slowly. Vibrant green eyes darted over the treeline quickly as she knelt again to pick up an ancient stone mask and an Elvin Bow, the latter of which she slide over her shoulder next to a half-full quiver of Falmer arrows. The mask, Krosis, she ran her fingers over fondly before donning it as well.

Another quick scan of the horizon and she took off. Tight leather armor clung to her every curve as she bounded across the clearing and back into the safety of the trees. Not even a branch cracked beneath her lithe feet as she leapt and darted over fallen logs and boulders. Glimpses of a massive stone structure appeared occasionally on the horizon, growing steadily larger and ever more menacing as she approached. Interest piqued, she slowed and crouched before diverting her path up the mountain toward said structure.
 
This woman, who was clearly dressed as an adventurer, an explorer, a graverobber, a fighter, there were many different names you could call people such as her. But today there would be no name-calling, at least not name-calling like that. If she'd be called different names it would be more dirty. If she'd like those more, she wouldn't know, but considering who she'd meet shortly hereafter, she probably would. His presence had the tendency to let mortal morals float away like clouds, so that even a high servant of the divines could fall down to her knees and beg for sex.

From the Daedric plane there was a man watching this curved woman, seeing her body coming closer by the second. With the power he had he kept the way for her fairly clear, only enemies being a bandit and some wolves, as he didn't want to let it be to easy for her, and once she'd come up she'd be able to look up at the statue. If she'd walk forward she'd notice the air going dark, and if she tried to move back, she'd find she couldn't, well, she could, but wouldn't move.

Once she was finally at the statue she'd see a staff theree, at the end, a large ruby, made into the shape of a rose. When she'd try to touch it, it'd pull her into another world. "Well, well." She'd hear, the source being a faintly familiar man, if she had read or heard the tales. "You tried to take my staff away, now did you? Not that you could be blamed for Greed, not here at least, but still." Around her she'd see a feast, where all of the sins were going through, there being fights, fuckings, gobbling up food, anything. "But for touching my staff without permission, would get you some form of punishment, would it not? I hope you have something in mind, as otherwise I'll think of something."
 
She padded around a large rock, moving with the deliberate, slow movements of a shadow. There was a bandit ahead. She heard him before she saw him and by the time she edged around the corner she already had an arrow notched and aimed at where she predicted where his head might be. It was an eerily accurate prediction and with only the slightest correction the arrow was loosed and found a new quiver in the man's splintered skull.

She had little interest in what may lie hidden in his pockets and stepped over the body only to find herself instinctively notching another arrow just seconds before a wolf exploded dramatically from a bush to her right. It was dispatched easily enough with an arrow to the back of the throat. As it yarlped and fell to the ground dead, it's pack boiled out in a mess of snarling, gnashing teeth.

"Fuck this. . ." holstering the bow, she took off up the mountain and dove behind a rock. The shadows almost seemed to envelope her and the wolves ran by in a flurry of gray. Finally free of petty obstacles, she found her destination only a few paces up from where she hid.

A shrine. But to whom? She approached the massive statue slowly, large emerald eyes wide as they were drawn slowly up the terrifying, yet somehow seductive, figure of the Daedric Prince whose name danced on the tip of her small tongue. The world around her seemed to dissipate the closer she drew and equivocally so did she steadily lose any desire to ever move away.

It was then she noticed the staff. It was quite possibly the most beautiful weapon she'd ever seen and without thought or hesitation she reached a lithe, gloved hand out and wrapped her long, delicate fingers around the shaft. Within that instant the world as she knew it ceased to exist. Quite suddenly before her, or rather she was quite suddenly before, the startlingly fallible presence of the Daedric Prince who continued to encircle and tease her tongue with his name.

"Sanguine. . ." it was a whisper, barely a breath, and it held all the awe and terror of simple knowledge. His words she barely heard, though his voice sent delicious chills down her spine.
 
Once the woman had entered the domain of the prince of most, if not all, that was seen as sinning there was no way back. Even if his power there was as limited as it was in the mortal realm he would still be capable of keeping her there with ease. He looked at her, which for her would feel as if something was prodding against the insides of that pretty head of hers. If they would be able to penetrate her mental defenses her mind would be fed with images of a dark kind, though not of a bad one. It were the kind of things most women would have dark dreams about. Having the best sex of the century, having vengeance on all they hated, eating all they wanted (and not get fat), those things.

"We all know what my name is, girl, but the question I have in my mind, what is yours." He said, moving his hand towards her, running it over her chin, and taking her mask off, revealing her face for all of them to see. It wasn't just her mask he took off, but he also really unmasked her, making her incapable of lying for the while that she was under his powers, so until he let her out of his realm, which could be fairly long if she satisfied him, or short if she didn't, or he thought other things would be more fun to do, but either way, she would stick with him watching over her the rest of her life, either because she'd stay with him, because she'd be dead, or because he'd just watch over her travels from his realm.

"But back to my previous question, you still need a punishment for trying to take my staff, so I hope you can come up with one fitting for yourself and your crime, otherwise I will have to think of one myself, which might leave you more crazy then Sheogorath."
 
When the initial shock of being instantly transported into what she now took the time to notice was a typically Sanguinine celebration of excess and debauchery wore off, she found herself not entirely alone in her own mind. At first she fought the mental intruder, whether it was the lascivious atmosphere or the seductive Daedra himself, but it was a losing battle. It wasn't that she was particularly weak willed, but her naturally hedonistic nature made the pleasure around her all the more irresistible. Her mind felt like it was working in slow-motion, which was irritating to say the least, but the fear it evoked was exciting.

"My. . . name?" even her voice felt heavy as she waded through the mental fog. Someone in the distance moaned loudly. "My name is Leesha. . . and I haven't stolen anything." Yet she thought defiantly, though she knew the Prince could probably sense such boldness and may respond. . . at this point she almost wanted him to.
 
The prince smiled at what she said, and what he found in her mind, not direct thought, but more emotions and stuff. He didn't know what he liked better. "Oh, so you haven't stolen anything? From just me, or overall. And if you wasn't planning on stealing anything, why did you grab the Rose?" He asked her, smiling. He leaned in closer to her, and moved his hand over her shoulders. It seemed to go through her clothing, as if they weren't made out of solid materials, and it seemed to get that itself too, all her clothes falling down through her, as if either her or her clothes were a ghost.

He walked around her, then moved his hands around her, locking her arms to her body, and ending his hands on her breasts "Tell me, Leesha." He said, fiddling with her breasts seemingly absentminded, but still skillful, "Were you planning on stealing the Rose?" She couldn't lie here, and he already knew what her answer would be.
 
The blissful fog still wafted playfully around her mind, which wandered aimlessly despite her current predicament and all the distractions about her. Her skin tingled slightly as her clothes quite simply dissipated and vanished through her. She shivered, though not quite from cold, and couldn't stop her body from reacting to his every tantalizing touch.

"I wouldn't call it stealing. . ." she struggled with the words, knowing they weren't the soul-revealing confession the Daedric lord might have wanted, "I mean. . . I have stolen. . . things. . . in the past. . ." her heart quickened under his hands as he fondled her, "It was just laying there. . . out in the open. . ." Here abouts the fog gradually lifted. Only slightly. Enough for some semblance of comprehensible thought.

"Think about it. . . if a fella found an axe lying in the street and took it upon himself to assume the great responsibly of assuring that weapon had a fitting home, well he couldn't rightly be arrested. . . seeing as the owner of the weapon was nowhere to be found and the item in question wasn't in said owners possession. . . because that's not stealing. . . f-finders keepers!" she took a shaky breath, "You. . . you. . . you forfitted ownership of the staff by leaving it lying about for. . . for anyone to take."

Running her small, pink tongue over her lips, she swallowed nervously and fought back another shiver against all the moaning in the background, "I was going to take it. . . oh yes. . . but steal is such a harsh word. . ."
 
The Daedric Lord continued fondling the woman as she was telling her story, one hand gradually moving down over her body, trying to throw her off the hook and fail in her carefully worked up speech. He was fairly impressed by her boldness of twisting the truth to be so close to a lie, and that against a Daedric lord, and one who wasn't nice if he was angry.

"If a fella found a staff like mine there, he would know better then to take away something from a shrine for me, and you should have too. A Daedric prince doesn't 'Forfeit' anything. The closest I do is throw things away, and you wouldn't dare touch the things I do that with. So I suppose you drop the charade, though with that quick thinking mind of yours you have somewhat impressed me."

"So I give you one chance to apologize to me in a proper way, and maybe I'll have some mercy for you." he said. As he said that, she could feel his cock pressing against her back, and with what images started to go into her mind now, she would know the apology he was looking for wasn't one of words. But with how she felt with just his hands touching her, she should wonder how it would feel to have some more intimate parts of him in her.
 
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