Meadow
Force-claiming is not allowed here. This is a peaceful, neutral area meant for socialising.
Posted on July 20, 2020 at 07:51:44 PM by Sabriel
Where her partner appears to have no doubts, the pale-maned mare was beginning to feel the first stirrings of them as Solomon entered the sheltered little world. There was a feral edge to the lust in both his expression and voice, as if his beauty and initial flattery were a mask that had now slipped to show the darkness they concealed. Perhaps it would have been better to remain where there were witnesses, though it was ever an uncertain gamble whether or not they might intervene if things went too far. And by the almost-predatorial way that the champagne male stalked towards Sabriel, she felt that things may have escalated beyond what her limited talents were capable of controlling. If this was still a game, it had become a more serious one; no longer a play at cat-and-mouse, but the deadlier dance of two predators about to clash.
Solomon’s teeth clamped down on the flesh at the base of her neck, and Sabriel gave a hiss in response, her dark ears submerging beneath the silver sea of her mane. The stallion was too close, again, for her to give him a retaliatory kick, though her body shuddered with wanting too - or perhaps just with wanting in general. Despite herself, she was more than responsive when his teeth traced a less-than-gentle path along the rippled dunes of her ribs, unable to repress the soft groan that was exhaled with her previous breath. The dark woman had never been beaten at her own game before; she had never allowed a stallion the opportunity. But for the moment she was enjoying the rough courtship too much to pull away, and instead simply leaned into Solomon’s ministrations. As if he were the single buoy to cling to in the turbulent sea of her pleasure - or perhaps more fittingly, as if she were preparing to release her grasp from said flotsam and slip willingly beneath the roiling surface.
It was the feeling of his breath on the sweat-dampened skin of her flanks that restored Sabriel’s willpower to fight, if not the entirety of her senses. Though warm, it washed over her like a cold breeze, dampening the flames of her ardor enough for her to fight back. “You have made your doubts clear, but I stand by my assurances that my innocent is intact. And so it will remain, Solomon - irrespective of your desires, I will submit to no man.” Her voice was no longer sultry, but now a snarl, and anger had hardened the soft blue of her eyes - though something like fear also lurked in the wide, dark pools of her pupils. This, too, was something her mother had warned her of - but Sabriel, too fond of her games, had disregarded such warnings. She had thought her dam’s tales of being forcefully claimed were exaggerations - that the old harridan had probably allowed it, and then concealed her willing submission with vehement denials.
Again she felt the drag of blunt teeth across the inky canvas of her coat, and could not entirely suppress the shiver of pleasure that followed in their wake. Taking advantage of Solomon’s preoccupation, however, she followed with a forward kick of her hind leg, granting the gesture enough force to bruise his shin - if she managed to connect. A couple heartbeats later, she turned her head to strike viper-quick at his white-and-gold flanks with bared teeth. This time, the pinch she gave him would be harder, and no sympathetic gestures would follow. Though as of yet the stallion had not committed any unpardonable crimes, Sabriel wanted him to receive the message she was communicating well and truly: Back off. Now. If he was diligent enough, perhaps they could begin anew, as if his transgressions had never happened. But if he continued to seek her submission, as he’d phrased it, then the pale-swirled mare intended to fight him every inch of the way.
Afterwards, she swung her hindquarters beyond Solomon’s reach, turning to face him with fire dancing in her eyes. It was more frightening, perhaps, how strongly her body protested this movement; how much her skin ached for the brush of his once she had pulled away. As much as she hated his uncouth manner, it had also drawn her to him - as a flame might draw a moth to its own self-destruction. And so - though she might have taken advantage of the seconds-long window to flee - Sabriel instead made a show of straightening the tangled snarls of her silver mane as best as she could, dark neck arching alluringly. In places her sable coat was dampened by the stallion’s saliva and had formed irregular spikes. These she addressed next, first warming them with a puff of warm breath before smoothing them back into place. Only when her flawless appearance was restored did Sabriel finally turn her attention back to Solomon, her blue eyes full of rebuke, but absent of the hatred that had been there only moments before. “Perhaps I misspoke before,” she offered cuttingly. “By your courtship, I would presume you to be a fumbling colt - perhaps you are the more innocent of us.”
Provocation was, perhaps, not the wisest choice in this situation, but Sabriel’s pride had been wounded by Solomon’s presumption. It was evident that he had ample experience in manners of earthly pleasure, and had apparently thought her to be an easy conquest. But the silver black mare was not about to surrender the sanctity of her womb, no matter what methods her companion chose. Seduction or force, it was all to the same end - she would not grant him this ultimate pleasure.
Replies:
- comfort me with apples, for i am sick of love - By Solomon July 25, 2020 at 02:25:01 AM
- in its taste confounding the appetite - By Sabriel July 25, 2020 at 04:34:50 AM
- comfort me with apples, for i am sick of love - By Solomon July 25, 2020 at 05:11:46 AM
- too swift arrives as tardy as too slow [ x ] - By Sabriel July 26, 2020 at 05:08:18 AM
- comfort me with apples, for i am sick of love - By Solomon July 25, 2020 at 05:11:46 AM
- in its taste confounding the appetite - By Sabriel July 25, 2020 at 04:34:50 AM
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