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Jun. 2nd, 2007 02:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tweedle2Title: India 1882 : The Magpie
Pairing: Orli/Liv, Orli/Liv/OMC
Rating: NC17
Warning: Drug use, BDSM, Het.
Disclaimer: Fiction
Summary: My answers to questions raised in![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
abundantlyqueer’s The Crystal Gem, which grabbed me and would not let go. Do read The Crystal Gem because without that none of this would have happened.
Previous Parts:
India 1881
India 1885, Part One
India 1885, Part Two
India 1875
India 1887, Part One
India 1887, Part Two
India 1888, Part One
The group of drabbles, ficlets and fics that I’m tidying up and posting was the very first fanfiction that I felt compelled to write back in late 2006.
My thanks toabundantlyqueer for her input and encouragement and for writing The Crystal Gem in the first place. All Crystal Gem 'verse is listed here.
This part explains how Orlando came to be such a drugged up floozy and that Miranda wasn't joking when she told Elijah to stay away from Livvy.
India 1882 : The Magpie
‘Magpies seem to be jacks of all trades – scavengers, predators and pest-destroyers, their challenging, almost arrogant attitude has won them few friends.’ RSPB (Royal Society for the Protection of Birds).
What a horrible dull place full of horrible boring little men. All the colour leached out in this horrible tropical heat. And that reminds her. She pokes the punka wallah sharply with the tip of her parasol. With a jerk, the fan resumes its sedate pace.
The train is late. Hours and hours late and hours and hours she has been sitting on the shaded veranda of the char house. It probably won’t even be worth it.
Finally in a burst of smoke and steam, the train arrives and shudders to a halt. Almost immediately it disgorges its latest batch of offerings from England. As she thought, not very promising. She mentally ticks them off as they stumble down the steps on to the dusty platform: family, family, too old, family, too poor, too ugly, family, too infirm and, ha, too short!
Grief! How is a woman to amuse herself in this God forsaken place?
And for God’s sake, another three to swell the ranks of the local Fishing Fleet by the look of it. Three more po-faced spinsters sent to India to find husbands. Her lips twist. Chance would be a fine thing. She raises her tea cup high in mock salute.
Then she spots him. Tall and slender, skin flushed from the sun and, oh Lord, young and handsome.
She stands up gracefully and snaps open the parasol. The sun through the pink silk casts a light that warms her skin and cools her eyes. She is tall and slender as well and imagines just how well they will look together. And they will be together for she is quite determined.
She straightens her shoulders and steps down into the street.
***
Ian has come especially to meet the new lieutenant. It is his first tour of duty and India can be overwhelming in many ways.
He sees a young man looking expectantly up the street.
He also sees the well turned out young woman approaching at an oblique angle.
A quick word to the driver pulls the carriage up hard between the two.
***
Dust rises in a cloud around her and nearly drives her back to the shelter of the shop. She fans her herself furiously and then presses her handkerchief to her lips. Across the carriage she meets concerned brown eyes. Cursing Ian the necessity of her frock’s imminent trip to the fuller, she sways once, twice and collapses artfully into the street.
***
Orlando is sorry Captain McKellen reached her first. She was into the carriage and away before he could offer any assistance.
He hopes she is all right.
***
He sees her again one week later.
It is a glancing meeting before they ricochet apart.
Their companions are their colleagues and each knows more about the other than Orlando ever will. The officers pass with the briefest of nods and the ladies with eyes demurely lowered.
Only Orlando has the ill manners or naivety to stare. When dark blue eyes flicker up as a step is stumbled, he feels concern; when the same eyes catch and hold his, he feels rewarded.
He is beginning to think his companions rather provincial.
***
Two weeks later the market is crowded. She has seen him but he has not seen her. She moves through the crowd and positions herself carefully. When the crowd surges around her, with a pretty cry she shoves herself hard against him. Parcels spill from her hands. His quick reaction saves her from falling but he has caught her most inappropriately. One hand has brushed across her bosom and the other grips her waist tightly.
She draws in a sharp breath and tips her head up. He is blushing hard. His apology is stuttered but he can’t release her until she is willing to stand on her own two feet. And willing she is not.
“I’m so sorry! Are you all right?”
She bites her bottom lip with a grimace of pain, “My ankle, I must have turned it. I don’t think I can stand.” She sags harder against him forcing him to grip her more tightly.
Feeling quite panicky and with the eyes of the market on him, Orlando slides one arm behind her knees and the other farther around her waist to sweep her up and off her feet. Quite naturally her head drops to his shoulder and her hand curves around the back of his neck for support.
That’s how he sees it.
***
It is not how Ian sees it when the scruffy ragamuffin reports the incident to him.
***
The next time he sees her it is one month later. He knows who she is now, not the least is the fact that she is sitting in full state on the brothel’s wide veranda. And then there are the things that the other men are so willing to tell him. He believes what he sees; how can he not? But the things they say? Orlando is not so sure.
At her smile of invitation, he pauses only a moment before placing his foot on the first step.
***
They are chatting companionably when Orlando is called from the street.
“Sahib Bloom!” Despite the local attire Orlando recognises Captain McKellen’s young ward, Elijah. “Sahib Bloom, I have an important message from McKellen Sahib.”
“Bring it here, boy.” Orlando feels very grown up receiving messages and flirting with a beautiful woman.
“Boy! I am no more a boy than you are!” The thirteen year old Elijah is incensed. “Come down and get your stupid message if you want it and if you don’t I’ll tell McKellen Sahib that you were too busy with her.”
“Elijah, come up,” Livvy calls out sweetly. “We have sweetmeats and lemonade.”
Elijah takes a step forward and then two back from the porch. Although he’s loath to admit it, eventually he mumbles, “Can’t. I’m not allowed.”
“Poor baby,” commiserates Livvy with a smirk.
Elijah looks like he may well burst. There is no reply he can think of that will adequately convey his fury. He stands quivering a further moment before throwing the message into the dirt and stomping off.
Orlando and Livvy burst out laughing. Helpless with mirth Livvy leans against Orlando and smiles up at him with open admiration.
Orlando feels very grown up indeed.
***
Ian has soothed and rewarded the messenger with the missed sweets and lemonade.
He cannot fix the other so easily. One must admit the addiction before one can accept succour.
***
Orlando’s body is tired but his mind plays over and over the afternoon’s scene. How beautiful Livvy was. How when she leant forward he could just make out the swell of her breasts. His heart beats furiously and his breath is short. He remembers how soft they had felt that day she’d had turned her ankle and he’d brushed against them. His hands cup of their own accord and he imagines their weight resting in his palms. He reaches down in frustration and cradles the weight of his own balls. Squeezes the weight of his own balls. He flushes and his mouth goes dry.
He kicks back the covers and struggles to dress himself.
After all, she had said she hoped to see him again.
***
The message, discreetly delivered, comes while she’s working and Livvy wants to end the current liaison now. She’s too impatient to let nature take its course, particularly at this sedate pace, but she doesn’t really want to go to Orlando tasting of another man’s cum.
It’s a problem.
***
Orlando is shown to a small ornate room. Wine and a hookah are offered. He declines the pipe but gratefully accepts the wine.
The only place to sit is the enormous bed that fills most of the room.
He shifts restlessly and remains standing.
***
Alone in her room, she has stripped naked. A hastily called maid works to erase the marks of the night’s labour thus far.
She shrugs into a heavy gown. The bodice is laced tightly so her white breasts are forced high and very round. If she stretches just so, her rouged areola peak over the creamy lace like twin suns at dawn.
She can take a hint as well as the next whore when it suits her.
Livvy glances at the clock. Eight minutes. Amazing.
She gives an unladylike snort. What really is amazing is the effect of one well placed finger up an unsuspecting ass.
***
Orlando is staring out of the room’s small window and only hears the click of the door being shut firmly. He turns slowly and can hardly believe what he’s seeing. Long dark hair is piled high displaying a long slender neck and deep décollege.
“Is that wine? May I?”
Orlando wrenches his eyes from the locket resting low on her bosom and offers the glass. He notices too late that it is empty and clumsily turns to refill it. When he turns back she is only a step away. He offers it again. She cups her hand around his as well as the glass and draws them both to her. She lowers her head to drink but continues to look up through her lashes at him. His hand shakes and a splash of wine leaves the glass. It drops by the locket and runs into the crease between her breasts.
“Oh dear.” she says mildly. “Whatever shall we do?”
At Orlando’s wide-eyed look she removes the glass from his hand and sets it aside.
“If we’re not quick the lace will be ruined.”
She moves closer to him fingering the ribbons trailing from the bodice.
“Have you no handkerchief?”
The pretty bow comes undone easily.
“No? Then we will have to make do.”
She pulls her shoulders back and the lacing parts. He can only stare down open mouthed as pert rosy nipples are revealed.
“Come,” she says. “We can do better than that.”
With her hand curved around his neck she draws his mouth down. His lips moved gently and he mouths tentatively at the red stain. She gasps and drops her head back pressing against his lips. She shifts and a nipple grazes his cheek. He looks up in shocked wonder. At her gentle smile he drops his gaze back down to nuzzle more surely. He takes the nipple between his lips and sucks gently. He moans helplessly as it stiffens under his tongue and the sweet taste of berries blossoms in his mouth. He rolls his face against the softness and his hands creep up to stroke and caress.
“Yes. Orlando. Yes. That feels so good. Touch them.”
He becomes almost frantic; wrenching the lacing fully apart, kneading and sucking between the two. She clasps his head to her, twisting her hands into his hair and pulling him closer. She jerks him up sharply and presses her lips to his. She licks at his lips and opens to him when he responds in kind. His hands clutch at her and his tongue stabs deeply. She drags a hand back down to her breast and arches against him. He breaks the kiss and leans gasping against her neck.
“Come,” she says. “Shall we make ourselves more comfortable?”
***
The late afternoon sun highlights the sheen of sweat on his chest. Liv smacks her lips loudly and grins impishly at Orlando. He huffs out a laugh when he has finds the breath to do so. Her head is pillowed against his thigh and her tongue snakes out to take little licks at his flaccid flesh.
“No. No! Too much! Too much!” He winces and tries to squirm away but she takes his balls firmly in her hand, forcing him to still.
“No,” she murmurs into the crease of his thigh, fondling him and watching the twitchings of his cock with interest. “No, it’s not.”
***
The chirping of the birds makes an odd accompaniment to the rhythmic slapping of flesh on flesh.
****
Livvy pauses. She gathers up her hair, lifting it to cool the sweat on her back and at the nape of her neck. The rain outside cools the air but it’s still heavy with humidity. Orlando arches desperately under her twisting the cords tighter around his wrists. He’s close, so close and if she’d just…
“Please, Livvy. Please!”
***
“Stay, Orlando.”
This is not difficult. His limbs are heavy and his mind can think of nothing but to follow her movements around the room with his eyes. He has suckled the bitter paste from her skin and now it is no hardship to do as she says.
He finds his eyes have closed but opens them again when the bed shifts under him. She’s kneeling at his side with her hands behind her back. Her head is tilted to one side, considering. Her gaze is steady.
He smiles up at her. She is so beautiful.
“Orlando. I have something for you. Turn onto your stomach, Orlando.”
****
Another use has been found for the raised breakfast tray. Rather lying cosily beneath it feeding each other pastries, Orlando’s torso is draped across it. He is kneeling before it, ass high as if in supplication. His arms are stretched toward the corners of the ornate headboard and are held there with loops of cord.
“You must be absolutely quiet or I will be angry.”
“Yes, Livvy.” The crack of leather on flesh resounds through the room and Orlando jerks taut with a cry.
“Quiet I said.” The belt falls again and Orlando bites back the cry.
“That’s good Orlando. Very good.” A gentle hand soothes the reddened skin. “Would you like something to help you be quiet?”
At his nod she moves around the bed and slides under his arm and lies so that her face is beneath his. She extends her tongue and he can see the two brown tablets resting there. He strains downward and sucks in her tongue and the pills. He stretches his head back to swallow and she gently strokes his throat in encouragement. When his head drops back down she kisses him hungrily. His cock hangs clear of the tray and she reaches underneath to draw her hand up and down its length. She continues until his breathing becomes deep and regular.
“There. That’s better. I think we’re ready to continue.” With a quick kiss, she rolls out from underneath him. She trails her fingers down the long line of his back as she moves to the foot of the bed.
He’s relaxed now and feels more than ready for anything she chooses to give him.
***
It feels like hours have passed. He’s sweating and shaking. The movement of the carved ivory dildo is like bursts of electricity in his ass. He thrusts back onto it as best he can, his cock bobbing and swaying beneath him. A particularly deep thrust forces a moan from him.
The dildo stills.
“Oh dear, and we were doing so well. I think a little more help is in order.” Orlando tenses for the blow and hangs his head in relief when gentle fingers push sweat blackened hair from his face. “My poor baby. You are so good and brave. Do you trust me?” She presses soft kisses to his neck and shoulders. She cups a hand under his chin and pulls his face toward hers. Her smile is sweet and tender. She kisses his lips chastely. “Do you?”
By the time she lets him cum even without the cloth binding his mouth he would not have made a sound.
***
“I think this suits us very well. Come, stand next to me and look.”
The mirror reflects two people he has never seen before.
She is dressed in black and her skin shines like ivory against it. Her black hair seems to reach to her feet mixed as it is with silk scarves. The scarves over her breasts are so fine they cover her only in shadow.
He is all in white, from the top of the turban to the hem of the soft trousers. Initially he had laughed at the design of the trousers, after all what was the point wearing trousers whose centre seam is completely open from front to back? He had caught on to the novelty of the idea very quickly.
“And the finishing touch,” she says as she slips the mask into place and fits it smoothly over the bridge of his nose and the arch of his cheekbones.
They turn back to the mirror. His eyes look quite black against the white silk. Her eyes under her own mask crinkle with pleasure and she laughs in delight. “You look like some wild Indian prince. Really, even I should not recognise you.”
***
There is a dull knock at the door that makes him start.
They’re stretched out on the bed together and he grasps at her.
“Shhh, Orlando. Be still my pet. This is going to be very special. I’m giving you something very special. Just wait. No, no be still. I’m not leaving you. I’ll be right back. And remember you must be quiet. Very quiet.”
Orlando freezes at the sound of the door opening. Strains to hear anything that will give him a hint as to what is to come next. He can see nothing past the mosquito netting shrouding the bed’s canopy. His heart rate rockets when he hears murmured voices and he squeezes his eyes shut tight. The sound of the door closing does not reassure him.
He has smoked some opium to relax and thinks maybe he should ask for more. But in a second she is by his side again and the feeling of panic recedes.
“There, there my beautiful prince,” she says curling again at his side. “I’m here. I’m here. Let me look at you.” She touches his hair and straightens his mask. She smoothes a hand down his chest and strokes the soft hairs below his navel. She reaches lower and insinuates her hand into the opening of his trousers. She pulls strongly along the length of his cock and bends over his chests to suck a nipple to hardness. Of its own volition, his hardening cock splits apart of the trouser’s unconventional opening. The white silk framing his flesh makes it look a deep dark red.
“There,” she murmurs softly with an air of finality and curls more closely against him. “Come,” she says more loudly and strokes his chest soothingly.
A dark shape approaches and a hand reaches out, drawing the edges of the netting apart.
Orlando hears the deep gasp quite clearly.
***
He is completely surrounded. Livvy’s long legs hold him close. He is trapped willingly far inside her. And, oh, he has never felt this fullness before. He has chewed his lower lip raw stifling the words that want to come. Faster. Harder. He feels a frisson of fear at the thought of those words slipping out.
The thick hot cock in his ass withdraws slowly and then forces its way back in.
It has never been like this before.
***
“You are so clever, Orlando,” she whispers to his sleeping form. “Really, I think there is little more that I can teach you.”
***
He wakes up alone. His eyes automatically scan the room but he can see no sign of her. He stretches stiffly and searches for his clothes.
***
“Orlando! I did not see you there. I’m sorry but I really can’t stop.” At his crestfallen look she relents slightly and presses a cool kiss to his cheek. “Can you come back later?”
***
“I am sorry, Sahib. Mistress Olivia is not available this evening. She has told me she is not to be disturbed under any circumstance. You know I cannot.”
***
When he sees her next she is sitting on the veranda in the company of a young fair skinned man. Her eyes flick up briefly to meet his. She gives him a slight smile and then turns back to her companion.
Orlando stands a moment longer shifting nervously. At the questioning look from the young man, he turns away in confusion.
He stumbles on the first step down.
***
Miranda sighs and reaches out to touch his arm in comfort. “Orlando, go home. She will not see you. You must forget her.”
She sighs again watching him go.
***
The heavy door opens and the light from inside illuminates him briefly. He’s left in darkness once more as it swings shut. The smell of opium dissipates quickly in the cool night air.
He doesn’t know how long he has been watching the men come and go.
Another man passes him and reaches for the door; pulls it open. He turns back to Orlando and after a long look of appraisal, smiles and opens the door wider; inviting.
There is a long pause before Orlando nods sharply and follows him inside.
***
Once the messenger has left, Ian allows himself a deep sigh of relief. He thinks there may be hope. At the least now, Orlando is out of the frying pan.
Next part, The Peepal Tree
Pairing: Orli/Liv, Orli/Liv/OMC
Rating: NC17
Warning: Drug use, BDSM, Het.
Disclaimer: Fiction
Summary: My answers to questions raised in
abundantlyqueer’s The Crystal Gem, which grabbed me and would not let go. Do read The Crystal Gem because without that none of this would have happened.Previous Parts:
India 1881
India 1885, Part One
India 1885, Part Two
India 1875
India 1887, Part One
India 1887, Part Two
India 1888, Part One
The group of drabbles, ficlets and fics that I’m tidying up and posting was the very first fanfiction that I felt compelled to write back in late 2006.
My thanks to
abundantlyqueer for her input and encouragement and for writing The Crystal Gem in the first place. All Crystal Gem 'verse is listed here.This part explains how Orlando came to be such a drugged up floozy and that Miranda wasn't joking when she told Elijah to stay away from Livvy.
India 1882 : The Magpie
‘Magpies seem to be jacks of all trades – scavengers, predators and pest-destroyers, their challenging, almost arrogant attitude has won them few friends.’ RSPB (Royal Society for the Protection of Birds).
What a horrible dull place full of horrible boring little men. All the colour leached out in this horrible tropical heat. And that reminds her. She pokes the punka wallah sharply with the tip of her parasol. With a jerk, the fan resumes its sedate pace.
The train is late. Hours and hours late and hours and hours she has been sitting on the shaded veranda of the char house. It probably won’t even be worth it.
Finally in a burst of smoke and steam, the train arrives and shudders to a halt. Almost immediately it disgorges its latest batch of offerings from England. As she thought, not very promising. She mentally ticks them off as they stumble down the steps on to the dusty platform: family, family, too old, family, too poor, too ugly, family, too infirm and, ha, too short!
Grief! How is a woman to amuse herself in this God forsaken place?
And for God’s sake, another three to swell the ranks of the local Fishing Fleet by the look of it. Three more po-faced spinsters sent to India to find husbands. Her lips twist. Chance would be a fine thing. She raises her tea cup high in mock salute.
Then she spots him. Tall and slender, skin flushed from the sun and, oh Lord, young and handsome.
She stands up gracefully and snaps open the parasol. The sun through the pink silk casts a light that warms her skin and cools her eyes. She is tall and slender as well and imagines just how well they will look together. And they will be together for she is quite determined.
She straightens her shoulders and steps down into the street.
***
Ian has come especially to meet the new lieutenant. It is his first tour of duty and India can be overwhelming in many ways.
He sees a young man looking expectantly up the street.
He also sees the well turned out young woman approaching at an oblique angle.
A quick word to the driver pulls the carriage up hard between the two.
***
Dust rises in a cloud around her and nearly drives her back to the shelter of the shop. She fans her herself furiously and then presses her handkerchief to her lips. Across the carriage she meets concerned brown eyes. Cursing Ian the necessity of her frock’s imminent trip to the fuller, she sways once, twice and collapses artfully into the street.
***
Orlando is sorry Captain McKellen reached her first. She was into the carriage and away before he could offer any assistance.
He hopes she is all right.
***
He sees her again one week later.
It is a glancing meeting before they ricochet apart.
Their companions are their colleagues and each knows more about the other than Orlando ever will. The officers pass with the briefest of nods and the ladies with eyes demurely lowered.
Only Orlando has the ill manners or naivety to stare. When dark blue eyes flicker up as a step is stumbled, he feels concern; when the same eyes catch and hold his, he feels rewarded.
He is beginning to think his companions rather provincial.
***
Two weeks later the market is crowded. She has seen him but he has not seen her. She moves through the crowd and positions herself carefully. When the crowd surges around her, with a pretty cry she shoves herself hard against him. Parcels spill from her hands. His quick reaction saves her from falling but he has caught her most inappropriately. One hand has brushed across her bosom and the other grips her waist tightly.
She draws in a sharp breath and tips her head up. He is blushing hard. His apology is stuttered but he can’t release her until she is willing to stand on her own two feet. And willing she is not.
“I’m so sorry! Are you all right?”
She bites her bottom lip with a grimace of pain, “My ankle, I must have turned it. I don’t think I can stand.” She sags harder against him forcing him to grip her more tightly.
Feeling quite panicky and with the eyes of the market on him, Orlando slides one arm behind her knees and the other farther around her waist to sweep her up and off her feet. Quite naturally her head drops to his shoulder and her hand curves around the back of his neck for support.
That’s how he sees it.
***
It is not how Ian sees it when the scruffy ragamuffin reports the incident to him.
***
The next time he sees her it is one month later. He knows who she is now, not the least is the fact that she is sitting in full state on the brothel’s wide veranda. And then there are the things that the other men are so willing to tell him. He believes what he sees; how can he not? But the things they say? Orlando is not so sure.
At her smile of invitation, he pauses only a moment before placing his foot on the first step.
***
They are chatting companionably when Orlando is called from the street.
“Sahib Bloom!” Despite the local attire Orlando recognises Captain McKellen’s young ward, Elijah. “Sahib Bloom, I have an important message from McKellen Sahib.”
“Bring it here, boy.” Orlando feels very grown up receiving messages and flirting with a beautiful woman.
“Boy! I am no more a boy than you are!” The thirteen year old Elijah is incensed. “Come down and get your stupid message if you want it and if you don’t I’ll tell McKellen Sahib that you were too busy with her.”
“Elijah, come up,” Livvy calls out sweetly. “We have sweetmeats and lemonade.”
Elijah takes a step forward and then two back from the porch. Although he’s loath to admit it, eventually he mumbles, “Can’t. I’m not allowed.”
“Poor baby,” commiserates Livvy with a smirk.
Elijah looks like he may well burst. There is no reply he can think of that will adequately convey his fury. He stands quivering a further moment before throwing the message into the dirt and stomping off.
Orlando and Livvy burst out laughing. Helpless with mirth Livvy leans against Orlando and smiles up at him with open admiration.
Orlando feels very grown up indeed.
***
Ian has soothed and rewarded the messenger with the missed sweets and lemonade.
He cannot fix the other so easily. One must admit the addiction before one can accept succour.
***
Orlando’s body is tired but his mind plays over and over the afternoon’s scene. How beautiful Livvy was. How when she leant forward he could just make out the swell of her breasts. His heart beats furiously and his breath is short. He remembers how soft they had felt that day she’d had turned her ankle and he’d brushed against them. His hands cup of their own accord and he imagines their weight resting in his palms. He reaches down in frustration and cradles the weight of his own balls. Squeezes the weight of his own balls. He flushes and his mouth goes dry.
He kicks back the covers and struggles to dress himself.
After all, she had said she hoped to see him again.
***
The message, discreetly delivered, comes while she’s working and Livvy wants to end the current liaison now. She’s too impatient to let nature take its course, particularly at this sedate pace, but she doesn’t really want to go to Orlando tasting of another man’s cum.
It’s a problem.
***
Orlando is shown to a small ornate room. Wine and a hookah are offered. He declines the pipe but gratefully accepts the wine.
The only place to sit is the enormous bed that fills most of the room.
He shifts restlessly and remains standing.
***
Alone in her room, she has stripped naked. A hastily called maid works to erase the marks of the night’s labour thus far.
She shrugs into a heavy gown. The bodice is laced tightly so her white breasts are forced high and very round. If she stretches just so, her rouged areola peak over the creamy lace like twin suns at dawn.
She can take a hint as well as the next whore when it suits her.
Livvy glances at the clock. Eight minutes. Amazing.
She gives an unladylike snort. What really is amazing is the effect of one well placed finger up an unsuspecting ass.
***
Orlando is staring out of the room’s small window and only hears the click of the door being shut firmly. He turns slowly and can hardly believe what he’s seeing. Long dark hair is piled high displaying a long slender neck and deep décollege.
“Is that wine? May I?”
Orlando wrenches his eyes from the locket resting low on her bosom and offers the glass. He notices too late that it is empty and clumsily turns to refill it. When he turns back she is only a step away. He offers it again. She cups her hand around his as well as the glass and draws them both to her. She lowers her head to drink but continues to look up through her lashes at him. His hand shakes and a splash of wine leaves the glass. It drops by the locket and runs into the crease between her breasts.
“Oh dear.” she says mildly. “Whatever shall we do?”
At Orlando’s wide-eyed look she removes the glass from his hand and sets it aside.
“If we’re not quick the lace will be ruined.”
She moves closer to him fingering the ribbons trailing from the bodice.
“Have you no handkerchief?”
The pretty bow comes undone easily.
“No? Then we will have to make do.”
She pulls her shoulders back and the lacing parts. He can only stare down open mouthed as pert rosy nipples are revealed.
“Come,” she says. “We can do better than that.”
With her hand curved around his neck she draws his mouth down. His lips moved gently and he mouths tentatively at the red stain. She gasps and drops her head back pressing against his lips. She shifts and a nipple grazes his cheek. He looks up in shocked wonder. At her gentle smile he drops his gaze back down to nuzzle more surely. He takes the nipple between his lips and sucks gently. He moans helplessly as it stiffens under his tongue and the sweet taste of berries blossoms in his mouth. He rolls his face against the softness and his hands creep up to stroke and caress.
“Yes. Orlando. Yes. That feels so good. Touch them.”
He becomes almost frantic; wrenching the lacing fully apart, kneading and sucking between the two. She clasps his head to her, twisting her hands into his hair and pulling him closer. She jerks him up sharply and presses her lips to his. She licks at his lips and opens to him when he responds in kind. His hands clutch at her and his tongue stabs deeply. She drags a hand back down to her breast and arches against him. He breaks the kiss and leans gasping against her neck.
“Come,” she says. “Shall we make ourselves more comfortable?”
***
The late afternoon sun highlights the sheen of sweat on his chest. Liv smacks her lips loudly and grins impishly at Orlando. He huffs out a laugh when he has finds the breath to do so. Her head is pillowed against his thigh and her tongue snakes out to take little licks at his flaccid flesh.
“No. No! Too much! Too much!” He winces and tries to squirm away but she takes his balls firmly in her hand, forcing him to still.
“No,” she murmurs into the crease of his thigh, fondling him and watching the twitchings of his cock with interest. “No, it’s not.”
***
The chirping of the birds makes an odd accompaniment to the rhythmic slapping of flesh on flesh.
****
Livvy pauses. She gathers up her hair, lifting it to cool the sweat on her back and at the nape of her neck. The rain outside cools the air but it’s still heavy with humidity. Orlando arches desperately under her twisting the cords tighter around his wrists. He’s close, so close and if she’d just…
“Please, Livvy. Please!”
***
“Stay, Orlando.”
This is not difficult. His limbs are heavy and his mind can think of nothing but to follow her movements around the room with his eyes. He has suckled the bitter paste from her skin and now it is no hardship to do as she says.
He finds his eyes have closed but opens them again when the bed shifts under him. She’s kneeling at his side with her hands behind her back. Her head is tilted to one side, considering. Her gaze is steady.
He smiles up at her. She is so beautiful.
“Orlando. I have something for you. Turn onto your stomach, Orlando.”
****
Another use has been found for the raised breakfast tray. Rather lying cosily beneath it feeding each other pastries, Orlando’s torso is draped across it. He is kneeling before it, ass high as if in supplication. His arms are stretched toward the corners of the ornate headboard and are held there with loops of cord.
“You must be absolutely quiet or I will be angry.”
“Yes, Livvy.” The crack of leather on flesh resounds through the room and Orlando jerks taut with a cry.
“Quiet I said.” The belt falls again and Orlando bites back the cry.
“That’s good Orlando. Very good.” A gentle hand soothes the reddened skin. “Would you like something to help you be quiet?”
At his nod she moves around the bed and slides under his arm and lies so that her face is beneath his. She extends her tongue and he can see the two brown tablets resting there. He strains downward and sucks in her tongue and the pills. He stretches his head back to swallow and she gently strokes his throat in encouragement. When his head drops back down she kisses him hungrily. His cock hangs clear of the tray and she reaches underneath to draw her hand up and down its length. She continues until his breathing becomes deep and regular.
“There. That’s better. I think we’re ready to continue.” With a quick kiss, she rolls out from underneath him. She trails her fingers down the long line of his back as she moves to the foot of the bed.
He’s relaxed now and feels more than ready for anything she chooses to give him.
***
It feels like hours have passed. He’s sweating and shaking. The movement of the carved ivory dildo is like bursts of electricity in his ass. He thrusts back onto it as best he can, his cock bobbing and swaying beneath him. A particularly deep thrust forces a moan from him.
The dildo stills.
“Oh dear, and we were doing so well. I think a little more help is in order.” Orlando tenses for the blow and hangs his head in relief when gentle fingers push sweat blackened hair from his face. “My poor baby. You are so good and brave. Do you trust me?” She presses soft kisses to his neck and shoulders. She cups a hand under his chin and pulls his face toward hers. Her smile is sweet and tender. She kisses his lips chastely. “Do you?”
By the time she lets him cum even without the cloth binding his mouth he would not have made a sound.
***
“I think this suits us very well. Come, stand next to me and look.”
The mirror reflects two people he has never seen before.
She is dressed in black and her skin shines like ivory against it. Her black hair seems to reach to her feet mixed as it is with silk scarves. The scarves over her breasts are so fine they cover her only in shadow.
He is all in white, from the top of the turban to the hem of the soft trousers. Initially he had laughed at the design of the trousers, after all what was the point wearing trousers whose centre seam is completely open from front to back? He had caught on to the novelty of the idea very quickly.
“And the finishing touch,” she says as she slips the mask into place and fits it smoothly over the bridge of his nose and the arch of his cheekbones.
They turn back to the mirror. His eyes look quite black against the white silk. Her eyes under her own mask crinkle with pleasure and she laughs in delight. “You look like some wild Indian prince. Really, even I should not recognise you.”
***
There is a dull knock at the door that makes him start.
They’re stretched out on the bed together and he grasps at her.
“Shhh, Orlando. Be still my pet. This is going to be very special. I’m giving you something very special. Just wait. No, no be still. I’m not leaving you. I’ll be right back. And remember you must be quiet. Very quiet.”
Orlando freezes at the sound of the door opening. Strains to hear anything that will give him a hint as to what is to come next. He can see nothing past the mosquito netting shrouding the bed’s canopy. His heart rate rockets when he hears murmured voices and he squeezes his eyes shut tight. The sound of the door closing does not reassure him.
He has smoked some opium to relax and thinks maybe he should ask for more. But in a second she is by his side again and the feeling of panic recedes.
“There, there my beautiful prince,” she says curling again at his side. “I’m here. I’m here. Let me look at you.” She touches his hair and straightens his mask. She smoothes a hand down his chest and strokes the soft hairs below his navel. She reaches lower and insinuates her hand into the opening of his trousers. She pulls strongly along the length of his cock and bends over his chests to suck a nipple to hardness. Of its own volition, his hardening cock splits apart of the trouser’s unconventional opening. The white silk framing his flesh makes it look a deep dark red.
“There,” she murmurs softly with an air of finality and curls more closely against him. “Come,” she says more loudly and strokes his chest soothingly.
A dark shape approaches and a hand reaches out, drawing the edges of the netting apart.
Orlando hears the deep gasp quite clearly.
***
He is completely surrounded. Livvy’s long legs hold him close. He is trapped willingly far inside her. And, oh, he has never felt this fullness before. He has chewed his lower lip raw stifling the words that want to come. Faster. Harder. He feels a frisson of fear at the thought of those words slipping out.
The thick hot cock in his ass withdraws slowly and then forces its way back in.
It has never been like this before.
***
“You are so clever, Orlando,” she whispers to his sleeping form. “Really, I think there is little more that I can teach you.”
***
He wakes up alone. His eyes automatically scan the room but he can see no sign of her. He stretches stiffly and searches for his clothes.
***
“Orlando! I did not see you there. I’m sorry but I really can’t stop.” At his crestfallen look she relents slightly and presses a cool kiss to his cheek. “Can you come back later?”
***
“I am sorry, Sahib. Mistress Olivia is not available this evening. She has told me she is not to be disturbed under any circumstance. You know I cannot.”
***
When he sees her next she is sitting on the veranda in the company of a young fair skinned man. Her eyes flick up briefly to meet his. She gives him a slight smile and then turns back to her companion.
Orlando stands a moment longer shifting nervously. At the questioning look from the young man, he turns away in confusion.
He stumbles on the first step down.
***
Miranda sighs and reaches out to touch his arm in comfort. “Orlando, go home. She will not see you. You must forget her.”
She sighs again watching him go.
***
The heavy door opens and the light from inside illuminates him briefly. He’s left in darkness once more as it swings shut. The smell of opium dissipates quickly in the cool night air.
He doesn’t know how long he has been watching the men come and go.
Another man passes him and reaches for the door; pulls it open. He turns back to Orlando and after a long look of appraisal, smiles and opens the door wider; inviting.
There is a long pause before Orlando nods sharply and follows him inside.
***
Once the messenger has left, Ian allows himself a deep sigh of relief. He thinks there may be hope. At the least now, Orlando is out of the frying pan.
Next part, The Peepal Tree
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2007-06-02 04:32 pm (UTC)Bravo!
:D
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Date: 2007-06-02 04:47 pm (UTC)And, ack!, there has got to be a better way of dealing with links. Thanks again for that.
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Date: 2007-06-02 05:01 pm (UTC)I can't imagine what would prompt Ian send that naughty little harlot, Elijah, to lusty Karl for safe-keeping (and hot sex), but I'm sure you'll think of something.
:D
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Date: 2007-06-03 11:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-03 12:20 pm (UTC):D
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Date: 2007-08-14 01:28 am (UTC)YES! YES! Most definitely-absolutely-positively-YES! Send him to Karl.
This was a wicked chapter! I loved Elijah having a snit (and still getting him lemonade). Full of the awesome! Thanks for making my day!
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Date: 2007-08-14 06:53 am (UTC)Okay. This is where I've got to ask, "Have you read The Crystal Gem?" Because Elijah has been sent to Karl and hotness ensues. I'm working on the 'why' and have just started pondering. :D He will have to be quite naughty. :D
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Date: 2007-08-23 07:19 pm (UTC)I suck. Yes, I've read The Crystal Gem (and I took the opportunity to go reread after reading all of your fabulous stories). I guess I just want more - and for Elijah to be sent repeatedly to KarlI'm selfish like that. ;)no subject
Date: 2007-08-23 08:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-08 10:41 pm (UTC)i like to think that Karl is Orlando's dark saviour, but who knows.
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Date: 2008-09-09 06:54 am (UTC)'i like to think that Karl is Orlando's dark saviour, but who knows.' *g* Sorry, but he's already taken in aq's The Crystal Gem which is the end to this series of stories. But there are other manly men out there who might well fit the bill. ;)