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He had honored his self-promise to remain faithful to Hatshepsut while she was pregnant. Had. But his eyes were now wandering, looking for new toys to play with. One particular toy looked absolutely delicious -- Neithotep H'Sheifa. Such a rare beauty who hardly flouched around his courts. How...interesting. That very interest was the reason he chose to summon her on such a fine evening. He was quite eager to get a taste of his new plaything, he decided. Oh yes, she would be his new toy. She thought she could evade him in court? Perhaps, but it was not so in his realm. She would be found and brought to him screaming if need be. Hopefully, however, she would be a good dog and come when her master called. Of course, a struggle was always far more entertaining. It meant she had a spirit he could crush.
He would not know until she came to him, of course. With Hatshepsut out of the way, he was far more inclined to enjoy himself. He was the King of Kings, the Morning and Evening Star, the Pharaoh, who was to say he could not indulge in his power? He married Hatshepsut only two months ago -- things were barely getting started. His beloved cheetah rested at the foot of his bed while he lay upon it. His eyes lingered where he expected to see her enter. She had some wits about her if she managed to avoid court, surely she would not be so foolish as to ignore his summons. He was relaxed, however, because he knew well enough that no one would dare to do something so audacious when he could have any number of terrible things done to them. On occasion, the impulse struck him to have some poor bastard’s tongue removed. That, of course, would not sit well with the people so, he contained himself. Though, in his own bedchamber, there was no need to contain his desires, whatever they may be. Neithotep would indulge him tonight.
He rose from his bed and crossed the room when he saw her enter, a smirk on his lips as he uttered a simple command, “Kneel.” His voice was hushed, but the glint in his eyes burned bright as day. It was very simple, she would kneel and obey or he would be having a lot more fun than planned tonight.
This character is currently a work in progress.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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He had honored his self-promise to remain faithful to Hatshepsut while she was pregnant. Had. But his eyes were now wandering, looking for new toys to play with. One particular toy looked absolutely delicious -- Neithotep H'Sheifa. Such a rare beauty who hardly flouched around his courts. How...interesting. That very interest was the reason he chose to summon her on such a fine evening. He was quite eager to get a taste of his new plaything, he decided. Oh yes, she would be his new toy. She thought she could evade him in court? Perhaps, but it was not so in his realm. She would be found and brought to him screaming if need be. Hopefully, however, she would be a good dog and come when her master called. Of course, a struggle was always far more entertaining. It meant she had a spirit he could crush.
He would not know until she came to him, of course. With Hatshepsut out of the way, he was far more inclined to enjoy himself. He was the King of Kings, the Morning and Evening Star, the Pharaoh, who was to say he could not indulge in his power? He married Hatshepsut only two months ago -- things were barely getting started. His beloved cheetah rested at the foot of his bed while he lay upon it. His eyes lingered where he expected to see her enter. She had some wits about her if she managed to avoid court, surely she would not be so foolish as to ignore his summons. He was relaxed, however, because he knew well enough that no one would dare to do something so audacious when he could have any number of terrible things done to them. On occasion, the impulse struck him to have some poor bastard’s tongue removed. That, of course, would not sit well with the people so, he contained himself. Though, in his own bedchamber, there was no need to contain his desires, whatever they may be. Neithotep would indulge him tonight.
He rose from his bed and crossed the room when he saw her enter, a smirk on his lips as he uttered a simple command, “Kneel.” His voice was hushed, but the glint in his eyes burned bright as day. It was very simple, she would kneel and obey or he would be having a lot more fun than planned tonight.
He had honored his self-promise to remain faithful to Hatshepsut while she was pregnant. Had. But his eyes were now wandering, looking for new toys to play with. One particular toy looked absolutely delicious -- Neithotep H'Sheifa. Such a rare beauty who hardly flouched around his courts. How...interesting. That very interest was the reason he chose to summon her on such a fine evening. He was quite eager to get a taste of his new plaything, he decided. Oh yes, she would be his new toy. She thought she could evade him in court? Perhaps, but it was not so in his realm. She would be found and brought to him screaming if need be. Hopefully, however, she would be a good dog and come when her master called. Of course, a struggle was always far more entertaining. It meant she had a spirit he could crush.
He would not know until she came to him, of course. With Hatshepsut out of the way, he was far more inclined to enjoy himself. He was the King of Kings, the Morning and Evening Star, the Pharaoh, who was to say he could not indulge in his power? He married Hatshepsut only two months ago -- things were barely getting started. His beloved cheetah rested at the foot of his bed while he lay upon it. His eyes lingered where he expected to see her enter. She had some wits about her if she managed to avoid court, surely she would not be so foolish as to ignore his summons. He was relaxed, however, because he knew well enough that no one would dare to do something so audacious when he could have any number of terrible things done to them. On occasion, the impulse struck him to have some poor bastard’s tongue removed. That, of course, would not sit well with the people so, he contained himself. Though, in his own bedchamber, there was no need to contain his desires, whatever they may be. Neithotep would indulge him tonight.
He rose from his bed and crossed the room when he saw her enter, a smirk on his lips as he uttered a simple command, “Kneel.” His voice was hushed, but the glint in his eyes burned bright as day. It was very simple, she would kneel and obey or he would be having a lot more fun than planned tonight.
When Neithotep received the summons from the pharaoh, all she could do was stare in disbelief at the slave who delivered it. Why in the world would the pharaoh want to see her? Was she in trouble? And if so, what had she done? She couldn’t recall having done anything that might have offended their King of Kings, but the fact that he was summoning her and her alone from her Hei made her cold with sweat. What interest could she possibly hold for a man of such stature?
Dismissing the messenger with a wave, she retreated back to her room with the deftness of a shadow, clenching her hands to halt their trembling. Of all the possibilities that were swirling through her head, not a one of them was pleasant. Perhaps this summons wasn’t to reprimand her, at all. Perhaps it was… something else.
That 'something else' wasn’t typically something she minded, but that 'something else' was usually on her terms and with men she chose. She didn’t want to lay with the pharaoh. She didn’t even want him to look at her. The more he took note of her, the more her absence at Court would be observed, and that was not something she wanted.
But what choice did she have? She couldn’t refuse the command of a pharaoh, not if she wanted to live very long. Perhaps she was wrong and he was summoning her for a different reason entirely. He was married, after all, to a beautiful young woman and the Queen at that. What use did he have for her?
Don’t be so naive, Nia, she told herself as she rifled through her clothing. Did that stop the last one from grabbing Mother? And look where that got us all...
Selecting a golden kalasiris that was a bit more demure than her usual wont, but beautifully flattered her skin tone, she started wrapping it around herself as she contemplated her options. Unfortunately, there weren’t many. She had to go.
So that evening found Neithotep at the palace, shaking like a leaf and doing her very best to hide it. Head held high with her chin in the air, she plastered a smile over her face as she followed the slave deeper into the winding maze of a building, anxiously biting into her lip. When he left her at the door of the Pharaoh’s bedchamber, Nia’s heart sank. It was just as she’d feared, after all.
Many women would be honored to share the bed of the Pharaoh, she tried to bolster herself, taking a deep breath to calm her fluttering nerves. Her own self-encouragement wasn’t very helpful, but she stepped through the door, nonetheless. If it was going to happen anyway, she might as well try to enjoy it. What else could she do?
Stepping past the threshold, she briefly met Iahotep’s eyes before she could stop herself. After seeing the searing heat that burned through his gaze, she instantly regretted that contact, feeling a shiver run over her skin. “Good evening, Your Majesty,” she greeted him in a voice that was blessedly calm, even if she was anything but.
His murmured command set her heart to pounding all that much harder, pausing for only an instant before sinking to the floor on wobbling knees. Her gaze was fixed to the ground in front of her, dark hair falling to conceal her face. She rested her hands on her knees and did her best to keep her breath slow and even. It will all be all right, she reassured herself again, trying not to jump when she heard the tread of his foot approach. It’s nothing you haven’t done before.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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When Neithotep received the summons from the pharaoh, all she could do was stare in disbelief at the slave who delivered it. Why in the world would the pharaoh want to see her? Was she in trouble? And if so, what had she done? She couldn’t recall having done anything that might have offended their King of Kings, but the fact that he was summoning her and her alone from her Hei made her cold with sweat. What interest could she possibly hold for a man of such stature?
Dismissing the messenger with a wave, she retreated back to her room with the deftness of a shadow, clenching her hands to halt their trembling. Of all the possibilities that were swirling through her head, not a one of them was pleasant. Perhaps this summons wasn’t to reprimand her, at all. Perhaps it was… something else.
That 'something else' wasn’t typically something she minded, but that 'something else' was usually on her terms and with men she chose. She didn’t want to lay with the pharaoh. She didn’t even want him to look at her. The more he took note of her, the more her absence at Court would be observed, and that was not something she wanted.
But what choice did she have? She couldn’t refuse the command of a pharaoh, not if she wanted to live very long. Perhaps she was wrong and he was summoning her for a different reason entirely. He was married, after all, to a beautiful young woman and the Queen at that. What use did he have for her?
Don’t be so naive, Nia, she told herself as she rifled through her clothing. Did that stop the last one from grabbing Mother? And look where that got us all...
Selecting a golden kalasiris that was a bit more demure than her usual wont, but beautifully flattered her skin tone, she started wrapping it around herself as she contemplated her options. Unfortunately, there weren’t many. She had to go.
So that evening found Neithotep at the palace, shaking like a leaf and doing her very best to hide it. Head held high with her chin in the air, she plastered a smile over her face as she followed the slave deeper into the winding maze of a building, anxiously biting into her lip. When he left her at the door of the Pharaoh’s bedchamber, Nia’s heart sank. It was just as she’d feared, after all.
Many women would be honored to share the bed of the Pharaoh, she tried to bolster herself, taking a deep breath to calm her fluttering nerves. Her own self-encouragement wasn’t very helpful, but she stepped through the door, nonetheless. If it was going to happen anyway, she might as well try to enjoy it. What else could she do?
Stepping past the threshold, she briefly met Iahotep’s eyes before she could stop herself. After seeing the searing heat that burned through his gaze, she instantly regretted that contact, feeling a shiver run over her skin. “Good evening, Your Majesty,” she greeted him in a voice that was blessedly calm, even if she was anything but.
His murmured command set her heart to pounding all that much harder, pausing for only an instant before sinking to the floor on wobbling knees. Her gaze was fixed to the ground in front of her, dark hair falling to conceal her face. She rested her hands on her knees and did her best to keep her breath slow and even. It will all be all right, she reassured herself again, trying not to jump when she heard the tread of his foot approach. It’s nothing you haven’t done before.
When Neithotep received the summons from the pharaoh, all she could do was stare in disbelief at the slave who delivered it. Why in the world would the pharaoh want to see her? Was she in trouble? And if so, what had she done? She couldn’t recall having done anything that might have offended their King of Kings, but the fact that he was summoning her and her alone from her Hei made her cold with sweat. What interest could she possibly hold for a man of such stature?
Dismissing the messenger with a wave, she retreated back to her room with the deftness of a shadow, clenching her hands to halt their trembling. Of all the possibilities that were swirling through her head, not a one of them was pleasant. Perhaps this summons wasn’t to reprimand her, at all. Perhaps it was… something else.
That 'something else' wasn’t typically something she minded, but that 'something else' was usually on her terms and with men she chose. She didn’t want to lay with the pharaoh. She didn’t even want him to look at her. The more he took note of her, the more her absence at Court would be observed, and that was not something she wanted.
But what choice did she have? She couldn’t refuse the command of a pharaoh, not if she wanted to live very long. Perhaps she was wrong and he was summoning her for a different reason entirely. He was married, after all, to a beautiful young woman and the Queen at that. What use did he have for her?
Don’t be so naive, Nia, she told herself as she rifled through her clothing. Did that stop the last one from grabbing Mother? And look where that got us all...
Selecting a golden kalasiris that was a bit more demure than her usual wont, but beautifully flattered her skin tone, she started wrapping it around herself as she contemplated her options. Unfortunately, there weren’t many. She had to go.
So that evening found Neithotep at the palace, shaking like a leaf and doing her very best to hide it. Head held high with her chin in the air, she plastered a smile over her face as she followed the slave deeper into the winding maze of a building, anxiously biting into her lip. When he left her at the door of the Pharaoh’s bedchamber, Nia’s heart sank. It was just as she’d feared, after all.
Many women would be honored to share the bed of the Pharaoh, she tried to bolster herself, taking a deep breath to calm her fluttering nerves. Her own self-encouragement wasn’t very helpful, but she stepped through the door, nonetheless. If it was going to happen anyway, she might as well try to enjoy it. What else could she do?
Stepping past the threshold, she briefly met Iahotep’s eyes before she could stop herself. After seeing the searing heat that burned through his gaze, she instantly regretted that contact, feeling a shiver run over her skin. “Good evening, Your Majesty,” she greeted him in a voice that was blessedly calm, even if she was anything but.
His murmured command set her heart to pounding all that much harder, pausing for only an instant before sinking to the floor on wobbling knees. Her gaze was fixed to the ground in front of her, dark hair falling to conceal her face. She rested her hands on her knees and did her best to keep her breath slow and even. It will all be all right, she reassured herself again, trying not to jump when she heard the tread of his foot approach. It’s nothing you haven’t done before.
Fear, jealousy, and anger were all emotions that swirled in his court, emotions he learned to root out. It was how he told the cowards from the foolishly brazen and the wise from the stupid. His eyes bore down on her with analytical precision. The poor thing was terrified. He could not help the feline-like smile that formed on his face. Fear in a woman was utterly delicious. She was beautiful, as he expected, but not as beautiful as the sweet submission she offered him. She knew her place, or at least pretended to.
Iahotep watched those gorgeous dark locks cover the face of his evening‘s amusement with savage hunger in his eyes. He would be pulling that hair from the root soon enough. Despite his urge to ravish her right there on the floor, Iahotep merely stepped closer to her...and closer...and closer until he could reach out gently stroke the top of her head. “Tonight, you will call me Master.” His touch remained soft, as though she were a little lamb. “We are going to play a game, you and I,” he breathed slowly in an attempt to calm the arousal growing inside him.
His hand smoothly moved to grip her chin and force her gaze to meet his. She would not yet feel the iron grip of a wrathful pharaoh, should she do exactly as he instructed. “And you will obey, do you understand?” His tone sent a clear message -- he did not want nor expect an answer. Rather, he leaned down and pressed his lips against her forehead, kissing her tenderly before his hold on her vanished. He stood up and crossed to room. Before him was a chair that he took his time sitting in. Let her mind wonder what he had planned next.
With his fiery eyes still watching her every move, Iahotep would pat his leg twice. “Crawl.” His legs were spread apart, leaving enough room for her to come between them. She would be a fool to believe he wanted anything less than her complete and utter obedience. When she came, he again reached out to stroke her hair. A low groan rumbled in his chest. It would be so easy to have those lips wrapped around his-
No, no. They were going to play a game as he said. What was the point of having power if you could not toy with it. His little pet would dance to his music no matter what he said. Of course, that would be too simple. He did not play simple. Idly running his fingers through her dark locks, Iahotep ignored the growing desire to pin the woman to the ground and sate his growing lust. He was the Pharaoh. He knew control. He would speak to her like one would to a young child. His voice soft, but not quite sweet. “Tell me, my dear, are you afraid? Do you fear what I will do to you? Do you fear that you may displease me? Would you do anything to keep that from happening?” His lustful gaze was trained on her, daring her to make a mistake.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Fear, jealousy, and anger were all emotions that swirled in his court, emotions he learned to root out. It was how he told the cowards from the foolishly brazen and the wise from the stupid. His eyes bore down on her with analytical precision. The poor thing was terrified. He could not help the feline-like smile that formed on his face. Fear in a woman was utterly delicious. She was beautiful, as he expected, but not as beautiful as the sweet submission she offered him. She knew her place, or at least pretended to.
Iahotep watched those gorgeous dark locks cover the face of his evening‘s amusement with savage hunger in his eyes. He would be pulling that hair from the root soon enough. Despite his urge to ravish her right there on the floor, Iahotep merely stepped closer to her...and closer...and closer until he could reach out gently stroke the top of her head. “Tonight, you will call me Master.” His touch remained soft, as though she were a little lamb. “We are going to play a game, you and I,” he breathed slowly in an attempt to calm the arousal growing inside him.
His hand smoothly moved to grip her chin and force her gaze to meet his. She would not yet feel the iron grip of a wrathful pharaoh, should she do exactly as he instructed. “And you will obey, do you understand?” His tone sent a clear message -- he did not want nor expect an answer. Rather, he leaned down and pressed his lips against her forehead, kissing her tenderly before his hold on her vanished. He stood up and crossed to room. Before him was a chair that he took his time sitting in. Let her mind wonder what he had planned next.
With his fiery eyes still watching her every move, Iahotep would pat his leg twice. “Crawl.” His legs were spread apart, leaving enough room for her to come between them. She would be a fool to believe he wanted anything less than her complete and utter obedience. When she came, he again reached out to stroke her hair. A low groan rumbled in his chest. It would be so easy to have those lips wrapped around his-
No, no. They were going to play a game as he said. What was the point of having power if you could not toy with it. His little pet would dance to his music no matter what he said. Of course, that would be too simple. He did not play simple. Idly running his fingers through her dark locks, Iahotep ignored the growing desire to pin the woman to the ground and sate his growing lust. He was the Pharaoh. He knew control. He would speak to her like one would to a young child. His voice soft, but not quite sweet. “Tell me, my dear, are you afraid? Do you fear what I will do to you? Do you fear that you may displease me? Would you do anything to keep that from happening?” His lustful gaze was trained on her, daring her to make a mistake.
Fear, jealousy, and anger were all emotions that swirled in his court, emotions he learned to root out. It was how he told the cowards from the foolishly brazen and the wise from the stupid. His eyes bore down on her with analytical precision. The poor thing was terrified. He could not help the feline-like smile that formed on his face. Fear in a woman was utterly delicious. She was beautiful, as he expected, but not as beautiful as the sweet submission she offered him. She knew her place, or at least pretended to.
Iahotep watched those gorgeous dark locks cover the face of his evening‘s amusement with savage hunger in his eyes. He would be pulling that hair from the root soon enough. Despite his urge to ravish her right there on the floor, Iahotep merely stepped closer to her...and closer...and closer until he could reach out gently stroke the top of her head. “Tonight, you will call me Master.” His touch remained soft, as though she were a little lamb. “We are going to play a game, you and I,” he breathed slowly in an attempt to calm the arousal growing inside him.
His hand smoothly moved to grip her chin and force her gaze to meet his. She would not yet feel the iron grip of a wrathful pharaoh, should she do exactly as he instructed. “And you will obey, do you understand?” His tone sent a clear message -- he did not want nor expect an answer. Rather, he leaned down and pressed his lips against her forehead, kissing her tenderly before his hold on her vanished. He stood up and crossed to room. Before him was a chair that he took his time sitting in. Let her mind wonder what he had planned next.
With his fiery eyes still watching her every move, Iahotep would pat his leg twice. “Crawl.” His legs were spread apart, leaving enough room for her to come between them. She would be a fool to believe he wanted anything less than her complete and utter obedience. When she came, he again reached out to stroke her hair. A low groan rumbled in his chest. It would be so easy to have those lips wrapped around his-
No, no. They were going to play a game as he said. What was the point of having power if you could not toy with it. His little pet would dance to his music no matter what he said. Of course, that would be too simple. He did not play simple. Idly running his fingers through her dark locks, Iahotep ignored the growing desire to pin the woman to the ground and sate his growing lust. He was the Pharaoh. He knew control. He would speak to her like one would to a young child. His voice soft, but not quite sweet. “Tell me, my dear, are you afraid? Do you fear what I will do to you? Do you fear that you may displease me? Would you do anything to keep that from happening?” His lustful gaze was trained on her, daring her to make a mistake.
In general, Neithotep was a confident young woman, playful and easygoing in the company of most. But that was not how the young lady of Sheifa felt here kneeling in front of the Pharaoh, whose gaze she could feel boring through her clothing, as if he could see through to her very bones. The closer he came, the more uncomfortable she was, his proximity igniting sparks along her skin that burned and crackled in turn. She wasn’t sure what exactly it was about the man that had her nervous instead of preening, but it was all she could do not to wrench away when she felt his hand run over her head.
The words that followed his touch made her stomach drop, fighting to keep her expression neutral and her eyes fixed on the ground. Master? His hand at her chin forced the latter to his face, the tone of his question making it clear that he meant what he said. She understood very well. It might be a game, but the stakes were too high for her liking. She wasn’t about to disobey.
The Pharaoh’s lips against her forehead nearly made her jump, as strung up with jittering anxiety as she was. Her dark gaze followed his movements across the room, swallowing hard when he sat down. The extended silence that filled the room was nearly suffocating, but with the next word that left his mouth, she wished that silence had never been broken.
He wanted her to crawl to him? Like some cripple or beggar? Nia hardly considered herself a proud woman; after all, she spent more time among the common rabble in dirty taverns than she did her own extravagant home. But this? Humiliating. Degrading. And looking up at Iahotep’s face, she knew that’s exactly what he wanted.
She thought about refusing, just standing up and walking out. However, something told her that if she tried to do so, she wouldn’t even make it to the door. As he’d made clear, the Pharaoh was not a man to be disobeyed. He would have what he wanted, one way or another. So Nia would take the easier path.
At least for now.
Swallowing her revulsion, Neithotep pressed her hands to the floor and took another deep breath. She made her way over to him as quickly as she dared, rising to her knees between his outspread legs as he seemed to expect. But no, it wasn’t to end there, of course it wasn’t. Snared within his net, he was far from done with her.
Iahotep’s hand in her hair sent a shiver down her spine, demurely lowering her eyes as he spoke. There was a moment of quiet when he finished, Nia carefully considering her answer. She could hardly lie to him; she didn’t want to think about the consequences of what would happen if she did. But neither could she tell him the truth of just how terrifying this all was, how out of her depth she truly was. He had every advantage in the world over her, as it was. She didn’t need to give him this, too.
“Yes, I am afraid,” the young woman answered, her voice whisper soft. “I know there are many things you can do to me if I displease you.” Here, she gave him a coy smile, trying to infuse some of her normal charm into the flutter of her lashes. “But I do not think I will displease you, Your Maj-Master.” Another deep inhale to steel herself and she leaned just enough into his hand to show appreciation for his attention, but not enough to be too forward.
“And yes. I will do whatever I can to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Nia hoped she wouldn’t come to regret those words.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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In general, Neithotep was a confident young woman, playful and easygoing in the company of most. But that was not how the young lady of Sheifa felt here kneeling in front of the Pharaoh, whose gaze she could feel boring through her clothing, as if he could see through to her very bones. The closer he came, the more uncomfortable she was, his proximity igniting sparks along her skin that burned and crackled in turn. She wasn’t sure what exactly it was about the man that had her nervous instead of preening, but it was all she could do not to wrench away when she felt his hand run over her head.
The words that followed his touch made her stomach drop, fighting to keep her expression neutral and her eyes fixed on the ground. Master? His hand at her chin forced the latter to his face, the tone of his question making it clear that he meant what he said. She understood very well. It might be a game, but the stakes were too high for her liking. She wasn’t about to disobey.
The Pharaoh’s lips against her forehead nearly made her jump, as strung up with jittering anxiety as she was. Her dark gaze followed his movements across the room, swallowing hard when he sat down. The extended silence that filled the room was nearly suffocating, but with the next word that left his mouth, she wished that silence had never been broken.
He wanted her to crawl to him? Like some cripple or beggar? Nia hardly considered herself a proud woman; after all, she spent more time among the common rabble in dirty taverns than she did her own extravagant home. But this? Humiliating. Degrading. And looking up at Iahotep’s face, she knew that’s exactly what he wanted.
She thought about refusing, just standing up and walking out. However, something told her that if she tried to do so, she wouldn’t even make it to the door. As he’d made clear, the Pharaoh was not a man to be disobeyed. He would have what he wanted, one way or another. So Nia would take the easier path.
At least for now.
Swallowing her revulsion, Neithotep pressed her hands to the floor and took another deep breath. She made her way over to him as quickly as she dared, rising to her knees between his outspread legs as he seemed to expect. But no, it wasn’t to end there, of course it wasn’t. Snared within his net, he was far from done with her.
Iahotep’s hand in her hair sent a shiver down her spine, demurely lowering her eyes as he spoke. There was a moment of quiet when he finished, Nia carefully considering her answer. She could hardly lie to him; she didn’t want to think about the consequences of what would happen if she did. But neither could she tell him the truth of just how terrifying this all was, how out of her depth she truly was. He had every advantage in the world over her, as it was. She didn’t need to give him this, too.
“Yes, I am afraid,” the young woman answered, her voice whisper soft. “I know there are many things you can do to me if I displease you.” Here, she gave him a coy smile, trying to infuse some of her normal charm into the flutter of her lashes. “But I do not think I will displease you, Your Maj-Master.” Another deep inhale to steel herself and she leaned just enough into his hand to show appreciation for his attention, but not enough to be too forward.
“And yes. I will do whatever I can to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Nia hoped she wouldn’t come to regret those words.
In general, Neithotep was a confident young woman, playful and easygoing in the company of most. But that was not how the young lady of Sheifa felt here kneeling in front of the Pharaoh, whose gaze she could feel boring through her clothing, as if he could see through to her very bones. The closer he came, the more uncomfortable she was, his proximity igniting sparks along her skin that burned and crackled in turn. She wasn’t sure what exactly it was about the man that had her nervous instead of preening, but it was all she could do not to wrench away when she felt his hand run over her head.
The words that followed his touch made her stomach drop, fighting to keep her expression neutral and her eyes fixed on the ground. Master? His hand at her chin forced the latter to his face, the tone of his question making it clear that he meant what he said. She understood very well. It might be a game, but the stakes were too high for her liking. She wasn’t about to disobey.
The Pharaoh’s lips against her forehead nearly made her jump, as strung up with jittering anxiety as she was. Her dark gaze followed his movements across the room, swallowing hard when he sat down. The extended silence that filled the room was nearly suffocating, but with the next word that left his mouth, she wished that silence had never been broken.
He wanted her to crawl to him? Like some cripple or beggar? Nia hardly considered herself a proud woman; after all, she spent more time among the common rabble in dirty taverns than she did her own extravagant home. But this? Humiliating. Degrading. And looking up at Iahotep’s face, she knew that’s exactly what he wanted.
She thought about refusing, just standing up and walking out. However, something told her that if she tried to do so, she wouldn’t even make it to the door. As he’d made clear, the Pharaoh was not a man to be disobeyed. He would have what he wanted, one way or another. So Nia would take the easier path.
At least for now.
Swallowing her revulsion, Neithotep pressed her hands to the floor and took another deep breath. She made her way over to him as quickly as she dared, rising to her knees between his outspread legs as he seemed to expect. But no, it wasn’t to end there, of course it wasn’t. Snared within his net, he was far from done with her.
Iahotep’s hand in her hair sent a shiver down her spine, demurely lowering her eyes as he spoke. There was a moment of quiet when he finished, Nia carefully considering her answer. She could hardly lie to him; she didn’t want to think about the consequences of what would happen if she did. But neither could she tell him the truth of just how terrifying this all was, how out of her depth she truly was. He had every advantage in the world over her, as it was. She didn’t need to give him this, too.
“Yes, I am afraid,” the young woman answered, her voice whisper soft. “I know there are many things you can do to me if I displease you.” Here, she gave him a coy smile, trying to infuse some of her normal charm into the flutter of her lashes. “But I do not think I will displease you, Your Maj-Master.” Another deep inhale to steel herself and she leaned just enough into his hand to show appreciation for his attention, but not enough to be too forward.
“And yes. I will do whatever I can to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Nia hoped she wouldn’t come to regret those words.
Pharaoh, Master, what difference did it make really? Those who called him master knew that he ruled over them. Those who called me Pharoah often did so begrudgingly, but to have a lady of his court -- albeit seldom seen -- call him master warmed his body with lust. Yes, he was her master, her Pharoah. She would obey his every whim in order to save her own skin. Though she had done well so far, the desire to utterly break her was immense. His wanted to dig his nails into her flesh and bite her until she bled, pulling her hair until it was nothing more than a dark brown mess.
To watch the lady of a great Hei crawl to him like a dog stirred the darkest of his twisted lusts. Oh, he intended to humiliate her more than this, to show her the true power of a Pharaoh. She would be his by the end of the night whether she knew it or not. Of course, she must have already had some sort of inkling to what he desired from her. What woman was summoned in such a way without some clue as to what awaited her? Fortunately for Neithotep, she had a direct view of exactly what he had planned for her.
He smiled without a hint of kindness or concern. Nothing but bestial desire could be found in his eyes. In hungered to destroy her entirely and he did not care if she saw it. “And you should be afraid.” he purred.
“You will scream for me tonight, in pleasure or in pain, it is your choice, either will be very enjoyable for me.” He nearly had to look away from her as he nudged her head into his hand. It was so, so tempting to pull her into his arms, spread her legs and begin a night of pleasure for them both, but he resisted.
He was not done playing with her yet.
The sound of a soft voice whispering those perfect words to him, fanned the flames of his desire until he could hardly bare to be idle any longer. She was afraid and she knew the punishment for failure, it was perfect. He nearly kissed her. That was until he heard her forget to address him as he ordered her to. Though she corrected herself midway, his gentle caresses ceased. Something dark glinted in his eyes, something hideous and furious. His fingers dug into a thick portion of her hair and twisted roughly to turn her around. He tugged harshly to pull her into his lap so that her back rest flush against his chest. Could she feel what awaited her, craving to feel the touch of the flesh between her thighs?
Growling under his breath, he jerked his hand to the side to expose her neck before his lips descended on the warm skin. He lavished her throat with rough, hungry kisses as his grip tightened. His free hand slid up upon the fabric of her kalasiris and groped at her breasts before his fingers wrapped around her throat. Squeezing the hand gripping her neck, he placed only a threatening pressure -- something that promised more pain should she displease him again. “But you do not think you’ll displease me who?”
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Pharaoh, Master, what difference did it make really? Those who called him master knew that he ruled over them. Those who called me Pharoah often did so begrudgingly, but to have a lady of his court -- albeit seldom seen -- call him master warmed his body with lust. Yes, he was her master, her Pharoah. She would obey his every whim in order to save her own skin. Though she had done well so far, the desire to utterly break her was immense. His wanted to dig his nails into her flesh and bite her until she bled, pulling her hair until it was nothing more than a dark brown mess.
To watch the lady of a great Hei crawl to him like a dog stirred the darkest of his twisted lusts. Oh, he intended to humiliate her more than this, to show her the true power of a Pharaoh. She would be his by the end of the night whether she knew it or not. Of course, she must have already had some sort of inkling to what he desired from her. What woman was summoned in such a way without some clue as to what awaited her? Fortunately for Neithotep, she had a direct view of exactly what he had planned for her.
He smiled without a hint of kindness or concern. Nothing but bestial desire could be found in his eyes. In hungered to destroy her entirely and he did not care if she saw it. “And you should be afraid.” he purred.
“You will scream for me tonight, in pleasure or in pain, it is your choice, either will be very enjoyable for me.” He nearly had to look away from her as he nudged her head into his hand. It was so, so tempting to pull her into his arms, spread her legs and begin a night of pleasure for them both, but he resisted.
He was not done playing with her yet.
The sound of a soft voice whispering those perfect words to him, fanned the flames of his desire until he could hardly bare to be idle any longer. She was afraid and she knew the punishment for failure, it was perfect. He nearly kissed her. That was until he heard her forget to address him as he ordered her to. Though she corrected herself midway, his gentle caresses ceased. Something dark glinted in his eyes, something hideous and furious. His fingers dug into a thick portion of her hair and twisted roughly to turn her around. He tugged harshly to pull her into his lap so that her back rest flush against his chest. Could she feel what awaited her, craving to feel the touch of the flesh between her thighs?
Growling under his breath, he jerked his hand to the side to expose her neck before his lips descended on the warm skin. He lavished her throat with rough, hungry kisses as his grip tightened. His free hand slid up upon the fabric of her kalasiris and groped at her breasts before his fingers wrapped around her throat. Squeezing the hand gripping her neck, he placed only a threatening pressure -- something that promised more pain should she displease him again. “But you do not think you’ll displease me who?”
Pharaoh, Master, what difference did it make really? Those who called him master knew that he ruled over them. Those who called me Pharoah often did so begrudgingly, but to have a lady of his court -- albeit seldom seen -- call him master warmed his body with lust. Yes, he was her master, her Pharoah. She would obey his every whim in order to save her own skin. Though she had done well so far, the desire to utterly break her was immense. His wanted to dig his nails into her flesh and bite her until she bled, pulling her hair until it was nothing more than a dark brown mess.
To watch the lady of a great Hei crawl to him like a dog stirred the darkest of his twisted lusts. Oh, he intended to humiliate her more than this, to show her the true power of a Pharaoh. She would be his by the end of the night whether she knew it or not. Of course, she must have already had some sort of inkling to what he desired from her. What woman was summoned in such a way without some clue as to what awaited her? Fortunately for Neithotep, she had a direct view of exactly what he had planned for her.
He smiled without a hint of kindness or concern. Nothing but bestial desire could be found in his eyes. In hungered to destroy her entirely and he did not care if she saw it. “And you should be afraid.” he purred.
“You will scream for me tonight, in pleasure or in pain, it is your choice, either will be very enjoyable for me.” He nearly had to look away from her as he nudged her head into his hand. It was so, so tempting to pull her into his arms, spread her legs and begin a night of pleasure for them both, but he resisted.
He was not done playing with her yet.
The sound of a soft voice whispering those perfect words to him, fanned the flames of his desire until he could hardly bare to be idle any longer. She was afraid and she knew the punishment for failure, it was perfect. He nearly kissed her. That was until he heard her forget to address him as he ordered her to. Though she corrected herself midway, his gentle caresses ceased. Something dark glinted in his eyes, something hideous and furious. His fingers dug into a thick portion of her hair and twisted roughly to turn her around. He tugged harshly to pull her into his lap so that her back rest flush against his chest. Could she feel what awaited her, craving to feel the touch of the flesh between her thighs?
Growling under his breath, he jerked his hand to the side to expose her neck before his lips descended on the warm skin. He lavished her throat with rough, hungry kisses as his grip tightened. His free hand slid up upon the fabric of her kalasiris and groped at her breasts before his fingers wrapped around her throat. Squeezing the hand gripping her neck, he placed only a threatening pressure -- something that promised more pain should she displease him again. “But you do not think you’ll displease me who?”
Her heart was pounding so hard she worried she might faint, the look in his eyes promising everything she’d feared and more. It was the look of a predator, a man who would never accept the word no. She’d seen that look in men’s eyes before, the rebellious girl who was so prone to trouble. But always she had managed to escape or to turn things to her favor. With the Pharaoh, however, she knew there was no escape. Or, at least, not the kind where she was still intact. How could she have gotten herself into this mess? Why had he suddenly taken note of her now?
I go to one festival, and I land myself here, Nia thought to herself as his hand wrenched her head back, crying out softly when she was roughly tugged into his lap. She could already feel the evidence of his excitement pressed against her backside, her head pulled to the side as his mouth descended on her neck. That’ll teach me to do that again…
Neithotep was a confused mixture of aroused and frightened when his hand started its journey up her kalasiris, the rasp of his facial hair against her skin raising goosebumps where it touched. She drew in a shaky breath before his wandering hand found her throat, gasping sharply when he squeezed. By now, she was wavering more toward frightened, but there was still a little thrill that ran down the back of her neck, a rush of excitement at the forbidden fruit Nia was always so apt to pluck.
“I won’t dis-displease you… Master,” she amended, the flutter of her heart increasing even further. She was sure by now he could feel it under his hand, Nia willing it to slow and her lightheadedness to abate. Her voice was faint when she added, “Please forgive me.”
She’d heard the Pharaoh was a cruel and relentless man; after all, one did not attain such a title with a kind and gentle spirit. However, nothing could have prepared her for the obvious delight he was taking in her fear, the cruel whisper of his not-so-subtle threats against her flesh. Nia felt a pang of sympathy for the queen, wondering how often she had to endure such torments. Or was he more wont to take his desires out on others? Just as he seemed intent on doing now.
“Please, Master, I’ll do as you say. Let me satisfy you.”
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Her heart was pounding so hard she worried she might faint, the look in his eyes promising everything she’d feared and more. It was the look of a predator, a man who would never accept the word no. She’d seen that look in men’s eyes before, the rebellious girl who was so prone to trouble. But always she had managed to escape or to turn things to her favor. With the Pharaoh, however, she knew there was no escape. Or, at least, not the kind where she was still intact. How could she have gotten herself into this mess? Why had he suddenly taken note of her now?
I go to one festival, and I land myself here, Nia thought to herself as his hand wrenched her head back, crying out softly when she was roughly tugged into his lap. She could already feel the evidence of his excitement pressed against her backside, her head pulled to the side as his mouth descended on her neck. That’ll teach me to do that again…
Neithotep was a confused mixture of aroused and frightened when his hand started its journey up her kalasiris, the rasp of his facial hair against her skin raising goosebumps where it touched. She drew in a shaky breath before his wandering hand found her throat, gasping sharply when he squeezed. By now, she was wavering more toward frightened, but there was still a little thrill that ran down the back of her neck, a rush of excitement at the forbidden fruit Nia was always so apt to pluck.
“I won’t dis-displease you… Master,” she amended, the flutter of her heart increasing even further. She was sure by now he could feel it under his hand, Nia willing it to slow and her lightheadedness to abate. Her voice was faint when she added, “Please forgive me.”
She’d heard the Pharaoh was a cruel and relentless man; after all, one did not attain such a title with a kind and gentle spirit. However, nothing could have prepared her for the obvious delight he was taking in her fear, the cruel whisper of his not-so-subtle threats against her flesh. Nia felt a pang of sympathy for the queen, wondering how often she had to endure such torments. Or was he more wont to take his desires out on others? Just as he seemed intent on doing now.
“Please, Master, I’ll do as you say. Let me satisfy you.”
Her heart was pounding so hard she worried she might faint, the look in his eyes promising everything she’d feared and more. It was the look of a predator, a man who would never accept the word no. She’d seen that look in men’s eyes before, the rebellious girl who was so prone to trouble. But always she had managed to escape or to turn things to her favor. With the Pharaoh, however, she knew there was no escape. Or, at least, not the kind where she was still intact. How could she have gotten herself into this mess? Why had he suddenly taken note of her now?
I go to one festival, and I land myself here, Nia thought to herself as his hand wrenched her head back, crying out softly when she was roughly tugged into his lap. She could already feel the evidence of his excitement pressed against her backside, her head pulled to the side as his mouth descended on her neck. That’ll teach me to do that again…
Neithotep was a confused mixture of aroused and frightened when his hand started its journey up her kalasiris, the rasp of his facial hair against her skin raising goosebumps where it touched. She drew in a shaky breath before his wandering hand found her throat, gasping sharply when he squeezed. By now, she was wavering more toward frightened, but there was still a little thrill that ran down the back of her neck, a rush of excitement at the forbidden fruit Nia was always so apt to pluck.
“I won’t dis-displease you… Master,” she amended, the flutter of her heart increasing even further. She was sure by now he could feel it under his hand, Nia willing it to slow and her lightheadedness to abate. Her voice was faint when she added, “Please forgive me.”
She’d heard the Pharaoh was a cruel and relentless man; after all, one did not attain such a title with a kind and gentle spirit. However, nothing could have prepared her for the obvious delight he was taking in her fear, the cruel whisper of his not-so-subtle threats against her flesh. Nia felt a pang of sympathy for the queen, wondering how often she had to endure such torments. Or was he more wont to take his desires out on others? Just as he seemed intent on doing now.
“Please, Master, I’ll do as you say. Let me satisfy you.”
Though the room was quiet, aside from the purring of Isis, it did little to quell how palpable her fear was. He could almost taste it. And now, feeling the thump of her heart in his palm, he knew it was real. Having a woman dance to the tune of his music was a wondrous feeling, even more wondrous than finally taking that woman for himself. The power he held over her was only magnified by her terror. He longed to make her jump simply by looking in her direction as he had done to many a servant. Though, making her jump was not the only thing he intended to do.
Pressing his nose against the side of her neck, he inhaled her scent quietly. “No, you won’t displease me,” he breathed, “but forgiveness must be earned.” He released the dangerously tight grip of her hair, letting it fall back down where it may, though he did not ease his hand from her throat. Oh, no, she was not going to get away with trying to rush him. His grip tightened for a brief moment to stir her terror once again. “If there is one thing you must learn, it is that your master does not enjoy being rushed. You will satisfy me when I am ready.”
His free hand slipped around her left side to rest upon her breast. Gently, he began to knead the soft flesh with his fingers -- a promise that he would remain merciful until she decided he should not be. The choice was entirely up to her. Either she would remain complacent and satisfy his whims, or she would grow foolishly bold and bring immense pain upon herself. Obedience was always preferred, but he was not a stranger to dealing with unwilling women. The question was, which would she choose to be?
Nose still resting on her neck, he spoke to her once again. “Tell me, Neithotep, why you choose to avoid my courts? Did you believe your absence would not be noted?” His fingers traced the lines of her throat absently, though the threat of punishment remained. She would not lie to him, unless she wished to suffer. Shifting his hips, he rubbed himself against her, unable to stop the soft groan that left his lips.
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Though the room was quiet, aside from the purring of Isis, it did little to quell how palpable her fear was. He could almost taste it. And now, feeling the thump of her heart in his palm, he knew it was real. Having a woman dance to the tune of his music was a wondrous feeling, even more wondrous than finally taking that woman for himself. The power he held over her was only magnified by her terror. He longed to make her jump simply by looking in her direction as he had done to many a servant. Though, making her jump was not the only thing he intended to do.
Pressing his nose against the side of her neck, he inhaled her scent quietly. “No, you won’t displease me,” he breathed, “but forgiveness must be earned.” He released the dangerously tight grip of her hair, letting it fall back down where it may, though he did not ease his hand from her throat. Oh, no, she was not going to get away with trying to rush him. His grip tightened for a brief moment to stir her terror once again. “If there is one thing you must learn, it is that your master does not enjoy being rushed. You will satisfy me when I am ready.”
His free hand slipped around her left side to rest upon her breast. Gently, he began to knead the soft flesh with his fingers -- a promise that he would remain merciful until she decided he should not be. The choice was entirely up to her. Either she would remain complacent and satisfy his whims, or she would grow foolishly bold and bring immense pain upon herself. Obedience was always preferred, but he was not a stranger to dealing with unwilling women. The question was, which would she choose to be?
Nose still resting on her neck, he spoke to her once again. “Tell me, Neithotep, why you choose to avoid my courts? Did you believe your absence would not be noted?” His fingers traced the lines of her throat absently, though the threat of punishment remained. She would not lie to him, unless she wished to suffer. Shifting his hips, he rubbed himself against her, unable to stop the soft groan that left his lips.
Though the room was quiet, aside from the purring of Isis, it did little to quell how palpable her fear was. He could almost taste it. And now, feeling the thump of her heart in his palm, he knew it was real. Having a woman dance to the tune of his music was a wondrous feeling, even more wondrous than finally taking that woman for himself. The power he held over her was only magnified by her terror. He longed to make her jump simply by looking in her direction as he had done to many a servant. Though, making her jump was not the only thing he intended to do.
Pressing his nose against the side of her neck, he inhaled her scent quietly. “No, you won’t displease me,” he breathed, “but forgiveness must be earned.” He released the dangerously tight grip of her hair, letting it fall back down where it may, though he did not ease his hand from her throat. Oh, no, she was not going to get away with trying to rush him. His grip tightened for a brief moment to stir her terror once again. “If there is one thing you must learn, it is that your master does not enjoy being rushed. You will satisfy me when I am ready.”
His free hand slipped around her left side to rest upon her breast. Gently, he began to knead the soft flesh with his fingers -- a promise that he would remain merciful until she decided he should not be. The choice was entirely up to her. Either she would remain complacent and satisfy his whims, or she would grow foolishly bold and bring immense pain upon herself. Obedience was always preferred, but he was not a stranger to dealing with unwilling women. The question was, which would she choose to be?
Nose still resting on her neck, he spoke to her once again. “Tell me, Neithotep, why you choose to avoid my courts? Did you believe your absence would not be noted?” His fingers traced the lines of her throat absently, though the threat of punishment remained. She would not lie to him, unless she wished to suffer. Shifting his hips, he rubbed himself against her, unable to stop the soft groan that left his lips.
“I’m sorry, Master,” Nia apologized with a gasp when he squeezed her throat again, closing her eyes and swallowing hard. “I did not mean to rush you. I will do as you say, I swear.” She had no wish for him to make good on his threats.
Another shiver crawled its way down her body as his nose brushed along her neck, her fingers wringing at the fabric of her kalasiris. The woman was a mess of confused emotion, her body uncertain of how to respond to his proximity. Her breath sped as his hand moved back to her breast, its peak stiffening through the fabric at his touch. The soft caress in contrast to his warnings set her further on edge, shifting anxiously in his lap.
Iahotep’s murmured questions only served to increase her anxiety, wondering once more if she really was in trouble, after all. She’d never meant her frequent absences as a slight--she simply had never enjoyed the pomp and arrogance of the nobility. But how could she explain that to him without being insulting?
“I… I’ve never felt I had anything to contribute,” she answered carefully, biting her lip when she felt him rub against her. Gods, but he was enjoying this more than any sane man should. “...Master,” she added hastily. There was a hitch in her breath and a flush in her cheeks as she went on, “My mother and my sisters have always been the real courtiers. I…” The steady movement of his hips briefly redirected her train of thought, only bringing it back under control with a concerted effort. “I’m… not very good at being a lady. I didn’t think anyone really noticed that I wasn’t there.”
Never mind that she was the sister of the newest member of Hei Naddar, and the daughter of a prominent family currently in shame because of Sutekh’s illegitimate birth. Now that she was in the clutch of the Pharaoh, Neithotep was no longer so jealous of his recent change in familial ties. Now, she could only feel pity for her brother that he had to live with such a man. Though she doubted very much he was ever treated in the same manner as she currently was.
“I apologize if my absence offends, Master,” she continued in a murmur, a soft husk in her voice. “That was never my intent, I swear.”
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“I’m sorry, Master,” Nia apologized with a gasp when he squeezed her throat again, closing her eyes and swallowing hard. “I did not mean to rush you. I will do as you say, I swear.” She had no wish for him to make good on his threats.
Another shiver crawled its way down her body as his nose brushed along her neck, her fingers wringing at the fabric of her kalasiris. The woman was a mess of confused emotion, her body uncertain of how to respond to his proximity. Her breath sped as his hand moved back to her breast, its peak stiffening through the fabric at his touch. The soft caress in contrast to his warnings set her further on edge, shifting anxiously in his lap.
Iahotep’s murmured questions only served to increase her anxiety, wondering once more if she really was in trouble, after all. She’d never meant her frequent absences as a slight--she simply had never enjoyed the pomp and arrogance of the nobility. But how could she explain that to him without being insulting?
“I… I’ve never felt I had anything to contribute,” she answered carefully, biting her lip when she felt him rub against her. Gods, but he was enjoying this more than any sane man should. “...Master,” she added hastily. There was a hitch in her breath and a flush in her cheeks as she went on, “My mother and my sisters have always been the real courtiers. I…” The steady movement of his hips briefly redirected her train of thought, only bringing it back under control with a concerted effort. “I’m… not very good at being a lady. I didn’t think anyone really noticed that I wasn’t there.”
Never mind that she was the sister of the newest member of Hei Naddar, and the daughter of a prominent family currently in shame because of Sutekh’s illegitimate birth. Now that she was in the clutch of the Pharaoh, Neithotep was no longer so jealous of his recent change in familial ties. Now, she could only feel pity for her brother that he had to live with such a man. Though she doubted very much he was ever treated in the same manner as she currently was.
“I apologize if my absence offends, Master,” she continued in a murmur, a soft husk in her voice. “That was never my intent, I swear.”
“I’m sorry, Master,” Nia apologized with a gasp when he squeezed her throat again, closing her eyes and swallowing hard. “I did not mean to rush you. I will do as you say, I swear.” She had no wish for him to make good on his threats.
Another shiver crawled its way down her body as his nose brushed along her neck, her fingers wringing at the fabric of her kalasiris. The woman was a mess of confused emotion, her body uncertain of how to respond to his proximity. Her breath sped as his hand moved back to her breast, its peak stiffening through the fabric at his touch. The soft caress in contrast to his warnings set her further on edge, shifting anxiously in his lap.
Iahotep’s murmured questions only served to increase her anxiety, wondering once more if she really was in trouble, after all. She’d never meant her frequent absences as a slight--she simply had never enjoyed the pomp and arrogance of the nobility. But how could she explain that to him without being insulting?
“I… I’ve never felt I had anything to contribute,” she answered carefully, biting her lip when she felt him rub against her. Gods, but he was enjoying this more than any sane man should. “...Master,” she added hastily. There was a hitch in her breath and a flush in her cheeks as she went on, “My mother and my sisters have always been the real courtiers. I…” The steady movement of his hips briefly redirected her train of thought, only bringing it back under control with a concerted effort. “I’m… not very good at being a lady. I didn’t think anyone really noticed that I wasn’t there.”
Never mind that she was the sister of the newest member of Hei Naddar, and the daughter of a prominent family currently in shame because of Sutekh’s illegitimate birth. Now that she was in the clutch of the Pharaoh, Neithotep was no longer so jealous of his recent change in familial ties. Now, she could only feel pity for her brother that he had to live with such a man. Though she doubted very much he was ever treated in the same manner as she currently was.
“I apologize if my absence offends, Master,” she continued in a murmur, a soft husk in her voice. “That was never my intent, I swear.”
Her apology was sweet, in a way, because it was fueled by fear. Would she have admitted to the same thing in the court, without her heart pounding in her chest? He doubted it. Those who had no power over him knew well enough to fear him. She was, at least, not an idiot, which made her all the more appealing. “There is no need to apologize, my dear,” he tutted, “but you must know your Pharaoh notices all absences. I should like to see you more…” The hand on her breast eased down her chest, over her stomach, and down towards what lay hidden by her attire.
“Not a very good lady? I can assure that you will suffice.” He noticed the change in her breathing and finally, he allowed her air to breathe, removing his fingers from her neck. Though, he was not in any rush to give her a reprieve from his touch, for the hand not trying to roughly move fabric away from what it desired, was stroking the side of her thigh. “I wonder, where does the little lamb run off to when she is not in my court?” He breathed softly in her ear. Did she know how excited he was? Surely, she could feel it but knowing what he had planned for her was an entirely different subject. She would learn to love his touch, even if it took months of training. She would learn.
“Your kalasiris is beautiful…” he could feel his hand press flush against her mound, his fingers searching for her sensitive spot. Slowly, his fingers was eased on top of the small bud. He leaned in to whisper in her ear, while he fingers worked in quick, small strokes. “...take it off.”
His attentions quickened before they stopped completely and his hands released her entirely, to allow her the freedom to move. If she was wise, this would not take very long.
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Her apology was sweet, in a way, because it was fueled by fear. Would she have admitted to the same thing in the court, without her heart pounding in her chest? He doubted it. Those who had no power over him knew well enough to fear him. She was, at least, not an idiot, which made her all the more appealing. “There is no need to apologize, my dear,” he tutted, “but you must know your Pharaoh notices all absences. I should like to see you more…” The hand on her breast eased down her chest, over her stomach, and down towards what lay hidden by her attire.
“Not a very good lady? I can assure that you will suffice.” He noticed the change in her breathing and finally, he allowed her air to breathe, removing his fingers from her neck. Though, he was not in any rush to give her a reprieve from his touch, for the hand not trying to roughly move fabric away from what it desired, was stroking the side of her thigh. “I wonder, where does the little lamb run off to when she is not in my court?” He breathed softly in her ear. Did she know how excited he was? Surely, she could feel it but knowing what he had planned for her was an entirely different subject. She would learn to love his touch, even if it took months of training. She would learn.
“Your kalasiris is beautiful…” he could feel his hand press flush against her mound, his fingers searching for her sensitive spot. Slowly, his fingers was eased on top of the small bud. He leaned in to whisper in her ear, while he fingers worked in quick, small strokes. “...take it off.”
His attentions quickened before they stopped completely and his hands released her entirely, to allow her the freedom to move. If she was wise, this would not take very long.
Her apology was sweet, in a way, because it was fueled by fear. Would she have admitted to the same thing in the court, without her heart pounding in her chest? He doubted it. Those who had no power over him knew well enough to fear him. She was, at least, not an idiot, which made her all the more appealing. “There is no need to apologize, my dear,” he tutted, “but you must know your Pharaoh notices all absences. I should like to see you more…” The hand on her breast eased down her chest, over her stomach, and down towards what lay hidden by her attire.
“Not a very good lady? I can assure that you will suffice.” He noticed the change in her breathing and finally, he allowed her air to breathe, removing his fingers from her neck. Though, he was not in any rush to give her a reprieve from his touch, for the hand not trying to roughly move fabric away from what it desired, was stroking the side of her thigh. “I wonder, where does the little lamb run off to when she is not in my court?” He breathed softly in her ear. Did she know how excited he was? Surely, she could feel it but knowing what he had planned for her was an entirely different subject. She would learn to love his touch, even if it took months of training. She would learn.
“Your kalasiris is beautiful…” he could feel his hand press flush against her mound, his fingers searching for her sensitive spot. Slowly, his fingers was eased on top of the small bud. He leaned in to whisper in her ear, while he fingers worked in quick, small strokes. “...take it off.”
His attentions quickened before they stopped completely and his hands released her entirely, to allow her the freedom to move. If she was wise, this would not take very long.
The last thing Nia wanted was to be seen more in court, much less for the gratification of the man whose hand was steadily sliding down her body and eliciting reactions she neither wanted nor expected. She was quivering in his grasp when she nodded in acquiescence, releasing a sharp breath when he so casually reached to part her legs. But how could she say no? It wasn’t like she could just refuse the demand of a King.
What irony that my mother should get the little courtier she wants all because the Pharaoh wanted to fuck me. Looks like we’ll finally have something to bond over…
“Of course, Master,” she murmured, the nerves in her thigh jumping where he stroked. “You will see me as often as you like.” She could only hope that Iahotep was a fickle man and would have enough of her rather quickly. Never in her life had she ever wanted to be fixed in his attention.
Neithotep took several deep breaths when he finally released his grip on her throat, though she paused at his next question. Where did she run off to? Why did he want to know? Did he mean to keep a watch on her? However, she didn’t dare to not answer the question. He didn’t seem the sort of man who liked to repeat himself. “I… taverns, mostly,” she replied with another flush of her cheeks. “The port, sometimes. Places I can… relax. Or… um, not relax. Master.” She tacked on the honorific almost as an afterthought, remembering his warning from before.
Her words were silenced when his fingers found their mark between her thighs, closing her eyes and releasing a soft moan in spite of herself. His next command was not one that surprised her, part of her even shivering with some form of excitement. Even with this reluctant eagerness, she was still loath to totally bare herself to him, to remove the only barrier that remained between them. However, as with the rest of the night, she had little choice in the matter. Standing when the Pharaoh released her, Nia moved to do as she was bid.
Trembling hands slowly pulled the length of golden fabric over her head, revealing beautifully bronzed skin and tantalizing curves. Her kalasiris was soon a delicate pile of fabric on the floor, Nia stepping away from it and resisting the urge to cover herself with her hands. She was not a modest woman by any stretch of the imagination, but with his stare locked on her, she’d never felt more naked.
Neithotep was a seductive woman by nature, but here, her normal instincts served her no good. Nervous with anticipation, she wasn’t sure what to do now that she was bare, afraid that she might take a step out of turn. Deciding the safest bet was to simply return to his lap, she offered an uncertain smile and a tentative hand reached for the collar of his own attire.
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The last thing Nia wanted was to be seen more in court, much less for the gratification of the man whose hand was steadily sliding down her body and eliciting reactions she neither wanted nor expected. She was quivering in his grasp when she nodded in acquiescence, releasing a sharp breath when he so casually reached to part her legs. But how could she say no? It wasn’t like she could just refuse the demand of a King.
What irony that my mother should get the little courtier she wants all because the Pharaoh wanted to fuck me. Looks like we’ll finally have something to bond over…
“Of course, Master,” she murmured, the nerves in her thigh jumping where he stroked. “You will see me as often as you like.” She could only hope that Iahotep was a fickle man and would have enough of her rather quickly. Never in her life had she ever wanted to be fixed in his attention.
Neithotep took several deep breaths when he finally released his grip on her throat, though she paused at his next question. Where did she run off to? Why did he want to know? Did he mean to keep a watch on her? However, she didn’t dare to not answer the question. He didn’t seem the sort of man who liked to repeat himself. “I… taverns, mostly,” she replied with another flush of her cheeks. “The port, sometimes. Places I can… relax. Or… um, not relax. Master.” She tacked on the honorific almost as an afterthought, remembering his warning from before.
Her words were silenced when his fingers found their mark between her thighs, closing her eyes and releasing a soft moan in spite of herself. His next command was not one that surprised her, part of her even shivering with some form of excitement. Even with this reluctant eagerness, she was still loath to totally bare herself to him, to remove the only barrier that remained between them. However, as with the rest of the night, she had little choice in the matter. Standing when the Pharaoh released her, Nia moved to do as she was bid.
Trembling hands slowly pulled the length of golden fabric over her head, revealing beautifully bronzed skin and tantalizing curves. Her kalasiris was soon a delicate pile of fabric on the floor, Nia stepping away from it and resisting the urge to cover herself with her hands. She was not a modest woman by any stretch of the imagination, but with his stare locked on her, she’d never felt more naked.
Neithotep was a seductive woman by nature, but here, her normal instincts served her no good. Nervous with anticipation, she wasn’t sure what to do now that she was bare, afraid that she might take a step out of turn. Deciding the safest bet was to simply return to his lap, she offered an uncertain smile and a tentative hand reached for the collar of his own attire.
The last thing Nia wanted was to be seen more in court, much less for the gratification of the man whose hand was steadily sliding down her body and eliciting reactions she neither wanted nor expected. She was quivering in his grasp when she nodded in acquiescence, releasing a sharp breath when he so casually reached to part her legs. But how could she say no? It wasn’t like she could just refuse the demand of a King.
What irony that my mother should get the little courtier she wants all because the Pharaoh wanted to fuck me. Looks like we’ll finally have something to bond over…
“Of course, Master,” she murmured, the nerves in her thigh jumping where he stroked. “You will see me as often as you like.” She could only hope that Iahotep was a fickle man and would have enough of her rather quickly. Never in her life had she ever wanted to be fixed in his attention.
Neithotep took several deep breaths when he finally released his grip on her throat, though she paused at his next question. Where did she run off to? Why did he want to know? Did he mean to keep a watch on her? However, she didn’t dare to not answer the question. He didn’t seem the sort of man who liked to repeat himself. “I… taverns, mostly,” she replied with another flush of her cheeks. “The port, sometimes. Places I can… relax. Or… um, not relax. Master.” She tacked on the honorific almost as an afterthought, remembering his warning from before.
Her words were silenced when his fingers found their mark between her thighs, closing her eyes and releasing a soft moan in spite of herself. His next command was not one that surprised her, part of her even shivering with some form of excitement. Even with this reluctant eagerness, she was still loath to totally bare herself to him, to remove the only barrier that remained between them. However, as with the rest of the night, she had little choice in the matter. Standing when the Pharaoh released her, Nia moved to do as she was bid.
Trembling hands slowly pulled the length of golden fabric over her head, revealing beautifully bronzed skin and tantalizing curves. Her kalasiris was soon a delicate pile of fabric on the floor, Nia stepping away from it and resisting the urge to cover herself with her hands. She was not a modest woman by any stretch of the imagination, but with his stare locked on her, she’d never felt more naked.
Neithotep was a seductive woman by nature, but here, her normal instincts served her no good. Nervous with anticipation, she wasn’t sure what to do now that she was bare, afraid that she might take a step out of turn. Deciding the safest bet was to simply return to his lap, she offered an uncertain smile and a tentative hand reached for the collar of his own attire.
“Yes, I will see you as often as I like,” he echoed, “You will get used to my bedchamber and in time, your quivering will cease.”
Oh, but her quivering, her blushing, and her moans were all so perfect. Though he knew she feared him, it was a marvel to watch her give in to her most basic desires. It was a game after all, to see what she valued more. He intended to force her to choose between her fear and the pursuit of pleasure. Would she resist if her life was on the line? Would she forget about herself completely and turn to her primal side? Though she did not know it, the game would last longer than just the evening. No, no, an evening would not be enough. There was so much more in store for her.
“Relaxing is perfectly fine, my dear, and something I suggest you do. It will be easier on you that way.” He spoke quietly as she slid off his lap to do as he bid her.
His eyes roamed her body as she undressed, taking account of every curve, from her breasts to her hips, with lascivious detail. Oh, Neithotep, the things he planned to do. He was growing impatient, itching to have her body pressed against his. He did not plan to be gentle. That was reserved for lovers and she was merely a plaything. But he was not completely unforgiving. If her obedience persisted, perhaps he would not bleed her and perhaps he would leave no marks for her to explain. He did enjoy marking his women immensely, to leave a reminder of who owned them, but he was not above being lenient...for now.
He offered a genuine smile as she returned to him without his explicit direction. Good, good, she was learning -- the marks of an intelligent woman. Intelligent perhaps, but still consumed by her fear. The uncertainty of her smile and hesitance told him she still did not know where her boundaries where. All was forgiven, however, because he would soon teach her.
Reaching out, he pulled her hand to his collar. “You may touch me.” He expected her not to delay in undressing him, the impatience in his eyes said as much. Having her hands close to his body made his own arousal so much deeper.
“Go slowly.” He commanded. He wanted to relish in her complete and utter submission, to watch her give in to his demands and so, he leaned back, to feel her hands dance along his bare skin.
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“Yes, I will see you as often as I like,” he echoed, “You will get used to my bedchamber and in time, your quivering will cease.”
Oh, but her quivering, her blushing, and her moans were all so perfect. Though he knew she feared him, it was a marvel to watch her give in to her most basic desires. It was a game after all, to see what she valued more. He intended to force her to choose between her fear and the pursuit of pleasure. Would she resist if her life was on the line? Would she forget about herself completely and turn to her primal side? Though she did not know it, the game would last longer than just the evening. No, no, an evening would not be enough. There was so much more in store for her.
“Relaxing is perfectly fine, my dear, and something I suggest you do. It will be easier on you that way.” He spoke quietly as she slid off his lap to do as he bid her.
His eyes roamed her body as she undressed, taking account of every curve, from her breasts to her hips, with lascivious detail. Oh, Neithotep, the things he planned to do. He was growing impatient, itching to have her body pressed against his. He did not plan to be gentle. That was reserved for lovers and she was merely a plaything. But he was not completely unforgiving. If her obedience persisted, perhaps he would not bleed her and perhaps he would leave no marks for her to explain. He did enjoy marking his women immensely, to leave a reminder of who owned them, but he was not above being lenient...for now.
He offered a genuine smile as she returned to him without his explicit direction. Good, good, she was learning -- the marks of an intelligent woman. Intelligent perhaps, but still consumed by her fear. The uncertainty of her smile and hesitance told him she still did not know where her boundaries where. All was forgiven, however, because he would soon teach her.
Reaching out, he pulled her hand to his collar. “You may touch me.” He expected her not to delay in undressing him, the impatience in his eyes said as much. Having her hands close to his body made his own arousal so much deeper.
“Go slowly.” He commanded. He wanted to relish in her complete and utter submission, to watch her give in to his demands and so, he leaned back, to feel her hands dance along his bare skin.
“Yes, I will see you as often as I like,” he echoed, “You will get used to my bedchamber and in time, your quivering will cease.”
Oh, but her quivering, her blushing, and her moans were all so perfect. Though he knew she feared him, it was a marvel to watch her give in to her most basic desires. It was a game after all, to see what she valued more. He intended to force her to choose between her fear and the pursuit of pleasure. Would she resist if her life was on the line? Would she forget about herself completely and turn to her primal side? Though she did not know it, the game would last longer than just the evening. No, no, an evening would not be enough. There was so much more in store for her.
“Relaxing is perfectly fine, my dear, and something I suggest you do. It will be easier on you that way.” He spoke quietly as she slid off his lap to do as he bid her.
His eyes roamed her body as she undressed, taking account of every curve, from her breasts to her hips, with lascivious detail. Oh, Neithotep, the things he planned to do. He was growing impatient, itching to have her body pressed against his. He did not plan to be gentle. That was reserved for lovers and she was merely a plaything. But he was not completely unforgiving. If her obedience persisted, perhaps he would not bleed her and perhaps he would leave no marks for her to explain. He did enjoy marking his women immensely, to leave a reminder of who owned them, but he was not above being lenient...for now.
He offered a genuine smile as she returned to him without his explicit direction. Good, good, she was learning -- the marks of an intelligent woman. Intelligent perhaps, but still consumed by her fear. The uncertainty of her smile and hesitance told him she still did not know where her boundaries where. All was forgiven, however, because he would soon teach her.
Reaching out, he pulled her hand to his collar. “You may touch me.” He expected her not to delay in undressing him, the impatience in his eyes said as much. Having her hands close to his body made his own arousal so much deeper.
“Go slowly.” He commanded. He wanted to relish in her complete and utter submission, to watch her give in to his demands and so, he leaned back, to feel her hands dance along his bare skin.
Dark eyes fluttered closed for the briefest of moments when he made it clear this wouldn’t be her only night with him, Neithotep’s heart sinking deeper in her chest. Of course, it had been too much to wish otherwise. For what already felt like the hundredth time that evening, she wondered how she could have gone from virtually invisible to suddenly being thrust into the Pharaoh’s line of sight. What about her had captured his interest? And why now?
Somehow, she doubted her quivering would ever cease.
The next words out of his mouth gave her even more reason for that quivering, stealing a glance at Iahotep that betrayed yet more of her anxiety. It will be easier on you that way. The implications of that statement alone made Nia’s knees weak and her mouth dry, trying to ignore the way his eyes traveled down her body as if he was the lion and she was the antelope. When she returned to his lap and found a smile on his face more genuine than her own, some of her anxious tension eased, relieved that she hadn’t managed to offend him with such a simple gesture. But only a little.
At his permission, she gave a small nod of acquiescence, slender fingers slowly stroking over the usekh collar draping his neck and chest. Her nails traced the upper edge of it until they found the ties holding it in place, deftly undoing the closure until the weight of it rested in her hands alone. She carefully pulled the ornate decoration away, gently draping it over the arm of the chair. Her hands took the place of the collar, slowly tracing down the plane of his chest, while one finger in particular etched down the length of the scar that marred the flesh from his shoulder to his hip. He was an attractive man, at least; she’d give him that. Even if he was… intimidating.
Briefly glancing up at his face, a devious little smirk played about the corner of her mouth. Dipping her head down, she brushed her lips along his hip where his scar ended and his kilt began, her hands moving along the hem until they met in the middle. He’d said she could touch him, after all; he had not said it couldn’t be with her mouth. Untying the knot that held the fabric around his waist, she slowly slid it down his legs before pulling it away and depositing it near her discarded kalasiris.
Moving back between his legs, her hands crept slowly up his thighs and steadily moved toward his chest where they came to a short halt. Stroking gently across his collarbones, Nia’s mouth forged its own trail up his sternum to the hollow of his neck where she could feel the flutter of his pulse. He was obviously excited; that much was clear from the hardness standing at attention between his thighs. Daring to meet the Pharaoh’s gaze again, she only hoped that excitement boded well for her. If she continued to please him, perhaps he would be… merciful.
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Dark eyes fluttered closed for the briefest of moments when he made it clear this wouldn’t be her only night with him, Neithotep’s heart sinking deeper in her chest. Of course, it had been too much to wish otherwise. For what already felt like the hundredth time that evening, she wondered how she could have gone from virtually invisible to suddenly being thrust into the Pharaoh’s line of sight. What about her had captured his interest? And why now?
Somehow, she doubted her quivering would ever cease.
The next words out of his mouth gave her even more reason for that quivering, stealing a glance at Iahotep that betrayed yet more of her anxiety. It will be easier on you that way. The implications of that statement alone made Nia’s knees weak and her mouth dry, trying to ignore the way his eyes traveled down her body as if he was the lion and she was the antelope. When she returned to his lap and found a smile on his face more genuine than her own, some of her anxious tension eased, relieved that she hadn’t managed to offend him with such a simple gesture. But only a little.
At his permission, she gave a small nod of acquiescence, slender fingers slowly stroking over the usekh collar draping his neck and chest. Her nails traced the upper edge of it until they found the ties holding it in place, deftly undoing the closure until the weight of it rested in her hands alone. She carefully pulled the ornate decoration away, gently draping it over the arm of the chair. Her hands took the place of the collar, slowly tracing down the plane of his chest, while one finger in particular etched down the length of the scar that marred the flesh from his shoulder to his hip. He was an attractive man, at least; she’d give him that. Even if he was… intimidating.
Briefly glancing up at his face, a devious little smirk played about the corner of her mouth. Dipping her head down, she brushed her lips along his hip where his scar ended and his kilt began, her hands moving along the hem until they met in the middle. He’d said she could touch him, after all; he had not said it couldn’t be with her mouth. Untying the knot that held the fabric around his waist, she slowly slid it down his legs before pulling it away and depositing it near her discarded kalasiris.
Moving back between his legs, her hands crept slowly up his thighs and steadily moved toward his chest where they came to a short halt. Stroking gently across his collarbones, Nia’s mouth forged its own trail up his sternum to the hollow of his neck where she could feel the flutter of his pulse. He was obviously excited; that much was clear from the hardness standing at attention between his thighs. Daring to meet the Pharaoh’s gaze again, she only hoped that excitement boded well for her. If she continued to please him, perhaps he would be… merciful.
Dark eyes fluttered closed for the briefest of moments when he made it clear this wouldn’t be her only night with him, Neithotep’s heart sinking deeper in her chest. Of course, it had been too much to wish otherwise. For what already felt like the hundredth time that evening, she wondered how she could have gone from virtually invisible to suddenly being thrust into the Pharaoh’s line of sight. What about her had captured his interest? And why now?
Somehow, she doubted her quivering would ever cease.
The next words out of his mouth gave her even more reason for that quivering, stealing a glance at Iahotep that betrayed yet more of her anxiety. It will be easier on you that way. The implications of that statement alone made Nia’s knees weak and her mouth dry, trying to ignore the way his eyes traveled down her body as if he was the lion and she was the antelope. When she returned to his lap and found a smile on his face more genuine than her own, some of her anxious tension eased, relieved that she hadn’t managed to offend him with such a simple gesture. But only a little.
At his permission, she gave a small nod of acquiescence, slender fingers slowly stroking over the usekh collar draping his neck and chest. Her nails traced the upper edge of it until they found the ties holding it in place, deftly undoing the closure until the weight of it rested in her hands alone. She carefully pulled the ornate decoration away, gently draping it over the arm of the chair. Her hands took the place of the collar, slowly tracing down the plane of his chest, while one finger in particular etched down the length of the scar that marred the flesh from his shoulder to his hip. He was an attractive man, at least; she’d give him that. Even if he was… intimidating.
Briefly glancing up at his face, a devious little smirk played about the corner of her mouth. Dipping her head down, she brushed her lips along his hip where his scar ended and his kilt began, her hands moving along the hem until they met in the middle. He’d said she could touch him, after all; he had not said it couldn’t be with her mouth. Untying the knot that held the fabric around his waist, she slowly slid it down his legs before pulling it away and depositing it near her discarded kalasiris.
Moving back between his legs, her hands crept slowly up his thighs and steadily moved toward his chest where they came to a short halt. Stroking gently across his collarbones, Nia’s mouth forged its own trail up his sternum to the hollow of his neck where she could feel the flutter of his pulse. He was obviously excited; that much was clear from the hardness standing at attention between his thighs. Daring to meet the Pharaoh’s gaze again, she only hoped that excitement boded well for her. If she continued to please him, perhaps he would be… merciful.
His eyes followed the movement of her hands, as though he could cause them to burst into flame with his gaze alone. He had given her permission to touch him, but his hands were ready to snatch her own, should she want to test him. He intended to bed her, yes, but that did not mean he trusted her not to try something foolish. Fear was an excellent motivator, but also the cause of stupidity. His glare intensified when her hands finally made contact with his collar, daring her to step out of line.
He had not expected her to touch his scar.
His skin was warm with desire but her touch sent tingles up and down his spine. The deep scarring was something he was proud to display, which lead him to often leave his chest bare. Never before, however, had he felt someone touch it in such a way. It was...nice. He made a sound of approval as he met her eyes again.
That smirk of hers did not go unnoticed. So, the little lamb was growing more confident? He stiffened as her warm lips grazed along his hip. He had not expected her to be so bold as to use her mouth on his skin. It was, however, a very good sign in his eyes. She was willing to go beyond his direct command. Good.
He soon found his kilt sliding off his legs and resting on the floor. He remained still as her hand traveled up his thighs and her fingers caressed his collarbone. His breath deepened as her mouth teased its way along the middle of chest to rest where he pulse beat rapidly. He closed his eyes for only a moment to relish in the feeling of soft lips on his throat.
A deep, approving groan rose from his chest as he reached up to run his hands through her hair and down her back. He needed to touch her, anything to keep his hands from forcing her head down to his arousal as he so desperately longed to do. He desired to feel her mouth around his length, to make her choke and gag, to feel warm saliva coat him entirely. His hands did not grab her hair to do so, solely because he was testing her.
She already proved herself eager to please in his mind. Clearly, there was more than her fear at play, for she was bold enough to use her mouth without direction. Now, he allowed her to choose her own pace and watch how she responded to freedom before he took it all away. She would be pinned beneath him with outspread legs as he claimed her over and over again before the evening’s end. A fantasy soon to be realized.
Breathing deeply, he uttered two words, “Satisfy me.”
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His eyes followed the movement of her hands, as though he could cause them to burst into flame with his gaze alone. He had given her permission to touch him, but his hands were ready to snatch her own, should she want to test him. He intended to bed her, yes, but that did not mean he trusted her not to try something foolish. Fear was an excellent motivator, but also the cause of stupidity. His glare intensified when her hands finally made contact with his collar, daring her to step out of line.
He had not expected her to touch his scar.
His skin was warm with desire but her touch sent tingles up and down his spine. The deep scarring was something he was proud to display, which lead him to often leave his chest bare. Never before, however, had he felt someone touch it in such a way. It was...nice. He made a sound of approval as he met her eyes again.
That smirk of hers did not go unnoticed. So, the little lamb was growing more confident? He stiffened as her warm lips grazed along his hip. He had not expected her to be so bold as to use her mouth on his skin. It was, however, a very good sign in his eyes. She was willing to go beyond his direct command. Good.
He soon found his kilt sliding off his legs and resting on the floor. He remained still as her hand traveled up his thighs and her fingers caressed his collarbone. His breath deepened as her mouth teased its way along the middle of chest to rest where he pulse beat rapidly. He closed his eyes for only a moment to relish in the feeling of soft lips on his throat.
A deep, approving groan rose from his chest as he reached up to run his hands through her hair and down her back. He needed to touch her, anything to keep his hands from forcing her head down to his arousal as he so desperately longed to do. He desired to feel her mouth around his length, to make her choke and gag, to feel warm saliva coat him entirely. His hands did not grab her hair to do so, solely because he was testing her.
She already proved herself eager to please in his mind. Clearly, there was more than her fear at play, for she was bold enough to use her mouth without direction. Now, he allowed her to choose her own pace and watch how she responded to freedom before he took it all away. She would be pinned beneath him with outspread legs as he claimed her over and over again before the evening’s end. A fantasy soon to be realized.
Breathing deeply, he uttered two words, “Satisfy me.”
His eyes followed the movement of her hands, as though he could cause them to burst into flame with his gaze alone. He had given her permission to touch him, but his hands were ready to snatch her own, should she want to test him. He intended to bed her, yes, but that did not mean he trusted her not to try something foolish. Fear was an excellent motivator, but also the cause of stupidity. His glare intensified when her hands finally made contact with his collar, daring her to step out of line.
He had not expected her to touch his scar.
His skin was warm with desire but her touch sent tingles up and down his spine. The deep scarring was something he was proud to display, which lead him to often leave his chest bare. Never before, however, had he felt someone touch it in such a way. It was...nice. He made a sound of approval as he met her eyes again.
That smirk of hers did not go unnoticed. So, the little lamb was growing more confident? He stiffened as her warm lips grazed along his hip. He had not expected her to be so bold as to use her mouth on his skin. It was, however, a very good sign in his eyes. She was willing to go beyond his direct command. Good.
He soon found his kilt sliding off his legs and resting on the floor. He remained still as her hand traveled up his thighs and her fingers caressed his collarbone. His breath deepened as her mouth teased its way along the middle of chest to rest where he pulse beat rapidly. He closed his eyes for only a moment to relish in the feeling of soft lips on his throat.
A deep, approving groan rose from his chest as he reached up to run his hands through her hair and down her back. He needed to touch her, anything to keep his hands from forcing her head down to his arousal as he so desperately longed to do. He desired to feel her mouth around his length, to make her choke and gag, to feel warm saliva coat him entirely. His hands did not grab her hair to do so, solely because he was testing her.
She already proved herself eager to please in his mind. Clearly, there was more than her fear at play, for she was bold enough to use her mouth without direction. Now, he allowed her to choose her own pace and watch how she responded to freedom before he took it all away. She would be pinned beneath him with outspread legs as he claimed her over and over again before the evening’s end. A fantasy soon to be realized.
Breathing deeply, he uttered two words, “Satisfy me.”
It was a delicate line that Nia walked, a line between want and obligation, between fear of not pleasing him enough and fear of pleasing him too much. There was a touch of genuine desire behind the stroke of her hands, the delicate brushes of her mouth. After all, she was a red-blooded woman with a passionate libido that rivaled most men. However, her main motivation lie in making sure she didn’t anger her King of Kings, and that she kept that curl of sadistic temper from lashing too far in her direction.
For the time being, it seemed to be working well. His groans and sighs were more gratifying than she cared to admit, and his touch was still gentle enough to keep her from being too worried yet. Then again, Neithotep always had a tendency toward naivete. She had no real clue what she was up against.
Satisfy me.
Her gaze lifted to meet his, her hands pausing in their journey down the peaks and valleys of his musculature. She opened her mouth as if to respond, but instead simply smiled and inclined her head. Lashes gently fluttered against her cheek before her fingers continued in their travel, only stopping when they reached the indents of his hipbones. A single graceful motion dropped her back to her knees, the tip of her nose brushing lightly along the inside of his thigh.
Knelt between his thighs, she felt a rush of her previous anxiety, heart leaping in her throat while the fingers of one hand crept down to gently caress his shaft and what hung beneath it. It’s no different than what you’ve done before, she tried to assure herself as she gently nibbled at the sensitive flesh near where his legs met. He’s the Pharaoh, but he’s still a man. You know how to please men.
The tip of her tongue followed in the wake of her teeth, drawing a slow line to his testes and up to the base of his rod. Pausing, she stole a glance at his face before her tongue moved more in earnest to the tip. Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her lips around the head and pulled him into her mouth, relaxing her jaw that she might pull him in further. Nails brushing over his skin, one hand moved to grip his thigh, while the other paired its motions with the caressing of her lips and tongue.
This character is currently a work in progress.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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It was a delicate line that Nia walked, a line between want and obligation, between fear of not pleasing him enough and fear of pleasing him too much. There was a touch of genuine desire behind the stroke of her hands, the delicate brushes of her mouth. After all, she was a red-blooded woman with a passionate libido that rivaled most men. However, her main motivation lie in making sure she didn’t anger her King of Kings, and that she kept that curl of sadistic temper from lashing too far in her direction.
For the time being, it seemed to be working well. His groans and sighs were more gratifying than she cared to admit, and his touch was still gentle enough to keep her from being too worried yet. Then again, Neithotep always had a tendency toward naivete. She had no real clue what she was up against.
Satisfy me.
Her gaze lifted to meet his, her hands pausing in their journey down the peaks and valleys of his musculature. She opened her mouth as if to respond, but instead simply smiled and inclined her head. Lashes gently fluttered against her cheek before her fingers continued in their travel, only stopping when they reached the indents of his hipbones. A single graceful motion dropped her back to her knees, the tip of her nose brushing lightly along the inside of his thigh.
Knelt between his thighs, she felt a rush of her previous anxiety, heart leaping in her throat while the fingers of one hand crept down to gently caress his shaft and what hung beneath it. It’s no different than what you’ve done before, she tried to assure herself as she gently nibbled at the sensitive flesh near where his legs met. He’s the Pharaoh, but he’s still a man. You know how to please men.
The tip of her tongue followed in the wake of her teeth, drawing a slow line to his testes and up to the base of his rod. Pausing, she stole a glance at his face before her tongue moved more in earnest to the tip. Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her lips around the head and pulled him into her mouth, relaxing her jaw that she might pull him in further. Nails brushing over his skin, one hand moved to grip his thigh, while the other paired its motions with the caressing of her lips and tongue.
It was a delicate line that Nia walked, a line between want and obligation, between fear of not pleasing him enough and fear of pleasing him too much. There was a touch of genuine desire behind the stroke of her hands, the delicate brushes of her mouth. After all, she was a red-blooded woman with a passionate libido that rivaled most men. However, her main motivation lie in making sure she didn’t anger her King of Kings, and that she kept that curl of sadistic temper from lashing too far in her direction.
For the time being, it seemed to be working well. His groans and sighs were more gratifying than she cared to admit, and his touch was still gentle enough to keep her from being too worried yet. Then again, Neithotep always had a tendency toward naivete. She had no real clue what she was up against.
Satisfy me.
Her gaze lifted to meet his, her hands pausing in their journey down the peaks and valleys of his musculature. She opened her mouth as if to respond, but instead simply smiled and inclined her head. Lashes gently fluttered against her cheek before her fingers continued in their travel, only stopping when they reached the indents of his hipbones. A single graceful motion dropped her back to her knees, the tip of her nose brushing lightly along the inside of his thigh.
Knelt between his thighs, she felt a rush of her previous anxiety, heart leaping in her throat while the fingers of one hand crept down to gently caress his shaft and what hung beneath it. It’s no different than what you’ve done before, she tried to assure herself as she gently nibbled at the sensitive flesh near where his legs met. He’s the Pharaoh, but he’s still a man. You know how to please men.
The tip of her tongue followed in the wake of her teeth, drawing a slow line to his testes and up to the base of his rod. Pausing, she stole a glance at his face before her tongue moved more in earnest to the tip. Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her lips around the head and pulled him into her mouth, relaxing her jaw that she might pull him in further. Nails brushing over his skin, one hand moved to grip his thigh, while the other paired its motions with the caressing of her lips and tongue.
Neithotep, beautiful, sultry, Neithotep was playing with a fire she could hardly comprehend. Truthfully, it was not wise to tease him with soft caresses and sweet smiles, though this did not stop a satisfied growl from growing in his chest. Her gentle touch sent warmth throughout his entire body, a warmth that was not nearly enough. His arousal craved more than a gentle touch. It desired to taste tears and hear the screams of a woman in pain.
To see her kneeling between his outspread legs put a smirk on his lips. Yes, yes, submit, my dear. Her submission elicited from him a content sigh. It was truly a wonder to have a woman in her rightful place, pleasing a man as she should. He groaned lowly, leaning his head back the moment he felt her hand teasing the sensitive flesh of his length. His dark eyes, clouded with lust, followed her movements until the wetness of her tongue made a trail along his arousal. A hushed moan passed from his lips as she took him in her mouth. “Good girl.” His hands reached forward, fingers entangling themselves in her hair.
She was doing so well, but it was not enough. Closing his eyes, he gripped the back of her head and forced himself deeper, and deeper still in her mouth. Moaning aloud, he forced her head to the base of his cock. He wanted to hear her gag. He did not allow her the chance to process what he had done before his fingers dug their way deeper into her hair. He yanked her head back, only to thrust his hips forward and bury himself in her mouth again.
He looked down at her, soon finding a rhythm of forcing her head back and forth along his length to match his increasingly brutal thrusts. “Yes.” he hissed through clenched teeth, reveling in the sounds of her struggle.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Deleted
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Neithotep, beautiful, sultry, Neithotep was playing with a fire she could hardly comprehend. Truthfully, it was not wise to tease him with soft caresses and sweet smiles, though this did not stop a satisfied growl from growing in his chest. Her gentle touch sent warmth throughout his entire body, a warmth that was not nearly enough. His arousal craved more than a gentle touch. It desired to taste tears and hear the screams of a woman in pain.
To see her kneeling between his outspread legs put a smirk on his lips. Yes, yes, submit, my dear. Her submission elicited from him a content sigh. It was truly a wonder to have a woman in her rightful place, pleasing a man as she should. He groaned lowly, leaning his head back the moment he felt her hand teasing the sensitive flesh of his length. His dark eyes, clouded with lust, followed her movements until the wetness of her tongue made a trail along his arousal. A hushed moan passed from his lips as she took him in her mouth. “Good girl.” His hands reached forward, fingers entangling themselves in her hair.
She was doing so well, but it was not enough. Closing his eyes, he gripped the back of her head and forced himself deeper, and deeper still in her mouth. Moaning aloud, he forced her head to the base of his cock. He wanted to hear her gag. He did not allow her the chance to process what he had done before his fingers dug their way deeper into her hair. He yanked her head back, only to thrust his hips forward and bury himself in her mouth again.
He looked down at her, soon finding a rhythm of forcing her head back and forth along his length to match his increasingly brutal thrusts. “Yes.” he hissed through clenched teeth, reveling in the sounds of her struggle.
Neithotep, beautiful, sultry, Neithotep was playing with a fire she could hardly comprehend. Truthfully, it was not wise to tease him with soft caresses and sweet smiles, though this did not stop a satisfied growl from growing in his chest. Her gentle touch sent warmth throughout his entire body, a warmth that was not nearly enough. His arousal craved more than a gentle touch. It desired to taste tears and hear the screams of a woman in pain.
To see her kneeling between his outspread legs put a smirk on his lips. Yes, yes, submit, my dear. Her submission elicited from him a content sigh. It was truly a wonder to have a woman in her rightful place, pleasing a man as she should. He groaned lowly, leaning his head back the moment he felt her hand teasing the sensitive flesh of his length. His dark eyes, clouded with lust, followed her movements until the wetness of her tongue made a trail along his arousal. A hushed moan passed from his lips as she took him in her mouth. “Good girl.” His hands reached forward, fingers entangling themselves in her hair.
She was doing so well, but it was not enough. Closing his eyes, he gripped the back of her head and forced himself deeper, and deeper still in her mouth. Moaning aloud, he forced her head to the base of his cock. He wanted to hear her gag. He did not allow her the chance to process what he had done before his fingers dug their way deeper into her hair. He yanked her head back, only to thrust his hips forward and bury himself in her mouth again.
He looked down at her, soon finding a rhythm of forcing her head back and forth along his length to match his increasingly brutal thrusts. “Yes.” he hissed through clenched teeth, reveling in the sounds of her struggle.