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Madam Mim
One Big Modern Mess
- Joined
- May 30, 2013
"Would a girl fuck you like this?" he barked, driving hard into her.
As he slammed her face into the countertop Jenny's mouth opened in a silent laugh. "A...girl...already...has..." Which was true, but at this point it was really mostly to egg him on.
It worked. He leaned his weight on her, crushing her throat in his grip. Her walls clenched around him as he hit her again, bouncing her head against the counter. The pinprick of her vision closed entirely, her hearing muffled and left altogether. The world was black and silent.
~*~
Well, this was a...different form of edging, that was certain. Jenny found herself standing, though not on any particular surface, in the Void. She and the Void were old friends, inasmuch as a Void could be friends with anyone. This was where the Something lived--existed was probably a better word--some aspect of eternity that was ancient and hungry, vengeful, loving...completely unknowable and yet Jenny could feel it as well as she could feel herself. The Something yearned to break free, to wreak its terrible love upon the world, and she never felt so whole nor so known as when she was in the Something as it fused itself to what was left of her wrecked and ragged soul. There was a sort of pinging in her consciousness and something (small 's') seemed to flip over a counter in her soul: 9,767. They were close. Some day, soon, Jenny would know again what it felt like to have her soul whole and with purpose apart from this endless drifting, cleaning up after a man's messes just as she always had, just as her foremothers had since the beginning of humanity. A seething hatred and a white-hot love consumed her all at once, as it always did when she was in this place.
There was an elf, impossibly far away and yet close enough to reach out and touch. Like the Void and the Something and her soul, Jenny only ever remembered him when she was here; never in the living world. It was as though she had two minds which held two separate sets of memories: one which remembered her mortal life, her afterlife, and all of the joy and pain that had come with it, and one which lived here which had always existed and knew nothing but rage and lust and a violent sort of possessive love that strangled anything too weak to contain it. But Jenny was not weak. She was the Vessel, which this self knew, and the elf called this self the Fair One.
He wasn't there physically, not really. She knew that just as much as she knew she wasn't there physically. She also knew that he was all at once much older and impossibly younger than herself. She called him Haerin, though she did not remember him ever telling her his name. He had been here even longer than she had, and it was only in the Void that she remembered the first time they met, when he had come onto the Black Pearl to commune with Máthair Inbhuanaithe, when he had demanded her darkness and she, in return, had demanded all that he was that she may give life to the world as he gave life to her.
Haerin came into her vision, smiling gently as he brushed some hair out of her face and laid his palm against her cheek. "Almost," he murmured. "It's nearly time."
Jenny leaned her cheek against his palm. She couldn't feel it, but at the same time had the impression of a cool, dry hand. "I long for you, my love."
"And you shall have me, mistress. But the Fair One doesn't yet understand as she must." They did this a lot: they spoke of Jenny as though she weren't there, and she felt as though she were eavesdropping on her own conversation. "She must know, she must understand, before we can rend the mortal realm with your love."
She gasped, arching her back gently as pleasure shot through her. It felt as though he was filling her, completing her, while gently rubbing her clit, but he remained standing plainly in front of her, one hand on her face and the other on her waist. He smiled, though the smile was a little sad, a little rueful.
"The Fair One must return," he murmured, "but we will meet again soon."
~*~
Jenny's eyes flew open and she took a deep, gasping breath. She had gotten good at this, and from the feeling of things she had only been dead for maybe four or five minutes. She awoke, as she often did after dying, with the ghost of a kiss on her forehead and the very edge of an orgasm. It was frustrating to say the least; she remembered dying on the edge, and was still there. Her companion's expression was a queer mixture of panic, shock, and relief. She sat up from her place on the floor with a wild grin.
There was no high quite like death.
"Well don't just gawp," she laughed, pushing herself to her feet. "Y' look like ye've never choked a girl out before, boyo." She grabbed him by the back of the hair and pulled him down into a deep kiss. "And ye've still not got me off." With another wild grin, she pushed him onto the mattress on the floor before straddling him.
As he slammed her face into the countertop Jenny's mouth opened in a silent laugh. "A...girl...already...has..." Which was true, but at this point it was really mostly to egg him on.
It worked. He leaned his weight on her, crushing her throat in his grip. Her walls clenched around him as he hit her again, bouncing her head against the counter. The pinprick of her vision closed entirely, her hearing muffled and left altogether. The world was black and silent.
~*~
Well, this was a...different form of edging, that was certain. Jenny found herself standing, though not on any particular surface, in the Void. She and the Void were old friends, inasmuch as a Void could be friends with anyone. This was where the Something lived--existed was probably a better word--some aspect of eternity that was ancient and hungry, vengeful, loving...completely unknowable and yet Jenny could feel it as well as she could feel herself. The Something yearned to break free, to wreak its terrible love upon the world, and she never felt so whole nor so known as when she was in the Something as it fused itself to what was left of her wrecked and ragged soul. There was a sort of pinging in her consciousness and something (small 's') seemed to flip over a counter in her soul: 9,767. They were close. Some day, soon, Jenny would know again what it felt like to have her soul whole and with purpose apart from this endless drifting, cleaning up after a man's messes just as she always had, just as her foremothers had since the beginning of humanity. A seething hatred and a white-hot love consumed her all at once, as it always did when she was in this place.
There was an elf, impossibly far away and yet close enough to reach out and touch. Like the Void and the Something and her soul, Jenny only ever remembered him when she was here; never in the living world. It was as though she had two minds which held two separate sets of memories: one which remembered her mortal life, her afterlife, and all of the joy and pain that had come with it, and one which lived here which had always existed and knew nothing but rage and lust and a violent sort of possessive love that strangled anything too weak to contain it. But Jenny was not weak. She was the Vessel, which this self knew, and the elf called this self the Fair One.
He wasn't there physically, not really. She knew that just as much as she knew she wasn't there physically. She also knew that he was all at once much older and impossibly younger than herself. She called him Haerin, though she did not remember him ever telling her his name. He had been here even longer than she had, and it was only in the Void that she remembered the first time they met, when he had come onto the Black Pearl to commune with Máthair Inbhuanaithe, when he had demanded her darkness and she, in return, had demanded all that he was that she may give life to the world as he gave life to her.
Haerin came into her vision, smiling gently as he brushed some hair out of her face and laid his palm against her cheek. "Almost," he murmured. "It's nearly time."
Jenny leaned her cheek against his palm. She couldn't feel it, but at the same time had the impression of a cool, dry hand. "I long for you, my love."
"And you shall have me, mistress. But the Fair One doesn't yet understand as she must." They did this a lot: they spoke of Jenny as though she weren't there, and she felt as though she were eavesdropping on her own conversation. "She must know, she must understand, before we can rend the mortal realm with your love."
She gasped, arching her back gently as pleasure shot through her. It felt as though he was filling her, completing her, while gently rubbing her clit, but he remained standing plainly in front of her, one hand on her face and the other on her waist. He smiled, though the smile was a little sad, a little rueful.
"The Fair One must return," he murmured, "but we will meet again soon."
~*~
Jenny's eyes flew open and she took a deep, gasping breath. She had gotten good at this, and from the feeling of things she had only been dead for maybe four or five minutes. She awoke, as she often did after dying, with the ghost of a kiss on her forehead and the very edge of an orgasm. It was frustrating to say the least; she remembered dying on the edge, and was still there. Her companion's expression was a queer mixture of panic, shock, and relief. She sat up from her place on the floor with a wild grin.
There was no high quite like death.
"Well don't just gawp," she laughed, pushing herself to her feet. "Y' look like ye've never choked a girl out before, boyo." She grabbed him by the back of the hair and pulled him down into a deep kiss. "And ye've still not got me off." With another wild grin, she pushed him onto the mattress on the floor before straddling him.
