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Akila got that a lot. I don’t know why, but I didn’t take you for a sailor. How does one act like a sailor? Did she have to walk around talking about the ocean and only the ocean? Did she have to bathe in the ocean until she reeked of saltwater and fish shit? Oh now, she just had to be a man. That’s right.
Classic seeing as the two women just gutted a tavern of men. Oh but surely this woman was the most ladylike of females, with her tea parties and fancy dresses, all giggly at the sailors waving them over so she can bat her full, thick eyelashes. This girl was clearly the epitome of femininity.
She didn’t end there. Her tone was neutral, but with a gaze tinged with suspicion, she asked Akila where she was from. For fucks sake. Akila was used to suspicion. Most times it was warranted. It’s not like Akila was some upright citizen following the letter of the law and helping every child and woman in need. Fuck that. But suspicion here wasn’t warranted. If Akila wanted to get rid of this woman, she would have, and far before she ever got anywhere near her ship.
So, with an unamused expression, she once again raised her brow at the woman, “Egypt.” Was her answer, as plain as it could be. “Does it matter?” No, it very much didn’t. Akila was an equal opportunity asshole. It didn’t matter where someone was from- she’d fuck you up either way. And Akila wasn’t this way because she was Egyptian. She knew plenty of Greeks quick with their knives, present company included.
Now it was Akila’s turn to be suspicious. Was she going to try to attack her simply due to her prejudices- the bitch seemed crazy enough to do just that. Or was she going to run off and pin the whole thing on Akila? Akila would cut the tongue she’d use to snitch and shove it down her throat to choke on if she even thought about doing that.
The cheeky smile that played on Akila’s lips never faded, but her eyes grew sharper as she watched the woman. Akila never trusted anyone- not fully. A knife in the back was just as likely as a knife in the front to her. And she had just met the woman. Akila wouldn’t put a hand on her bloodied khopesh just yet, but should the woman go to make a move- Akila would respond in kind.
The playful sarcastic tone also remained as she gestured around the ship, “Make yourself at home,” Just not too homey. “Unless, of course, this isn’t to your liking?” It certainly was no inn, and Akila expected her to be gone first thing in the morning if not before that. As soon as she was comfortable the coast was clear, at the very least.
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Akila got that a lot. I don’t know why, but I didn’t take you for a sailor. How does one act like a sailor? Did she have to walk around talking about the ocean and only the ocean? Did she have to bathe in the ocean until she reeked of saltwater and fish shit? Oh now, she just had to be a man. That’s right.
Classic seeing as the two women just gutted a tavern of men. Oh but surely this woman was the most ladylike of females, with her tea parties and fancy dresses, all giggly at the sailors waving them over so she can bat her full, thick eyelashes. This girl was clearly the epitome of femininity.
She didn’t end there. Her tone was neutral, but with a gaze tinged with suspicion, she asked Akila where she was from. For fucks sake. Akila was used to suspicion. Most times it was warranted. It’s not like Akila was some upright citizen following the letter of the law and helping every child and woman in need. Fuck that. But suspicion here wasn’t warranted. If Akila wanted to get rid of this woman, she would have, and far before she ever got anywhere near her ship.
So, with an unamused expression, she once again raised her brow at the woman, “Egypt.” Was her answer, as plain as it could be. “Does it matter?” No, it very much didn’t. Akila was an equal opportunity asshole. It didn’t matter where someone was from- she’d fuck you up either way. And Akila wasn’t this way because she was Egyptian. She knew plenty of Greeks quick with their knives, present company included.
Now it was Akila’s turn to be suspicious. Was she going to try to attack her simply due to her prejudices- the bitch seemed crazy enough to do just that. Or was she going to run off and pin the whole thing on Akila? Akila would cut the tongue she’d use to snitch and shove it down her throat to choke on if she even thought about doing that.
The cheeky smile that played on Akila’s lips never faded, but her eyes grew sharper as she watched the woman. Akila never trusted anyone- not fully. A knife in the back was just as likely as a knife in the front to her. And she had just met the woman. Akila wouldn’t put a hand on her bloodied khopesh just yet, but should the woman go to make a move- Akila would respond in kind.
The playful sarcastic tone also remained as she gestured around the ship, “Make yourself at home,” Just not too homey. “Unless, of course, this isn’t to your liking?” It certainly was no inn, and Akila expected her to be gone first thing in the morning if not before that. As soon as she was comfortable the coast was clear, at the very least.
Akila got that a lot. I don’t know why, but I didn’t take you for a sailor. How does one act like a sailor? Did she have to walk around talking about the ocean and only the ocean? Did she have to bathe in the ocean until she reeked of saltwater and fish shit? Oh now, she just had to be a man. That’s right.
Classic seeing as the two women just gutted a tavern of men. Oh but surely this woman was the most ladylike of females, with her tea parties and fancy dresses, all giggly at the sailors waving them over so she can bat her full, thick eyelashes. This girl was clearly the epitome of femininity.
She didn’t end there. Her tone was neutral, but with a gaze tinged with suspicion, she asked Akila where she was from. For fucks sake. Akila was used to suspicion. Most times it was warranted. It’s not like Akila was some upright citizen following the letter of the law and helping every child and woman in need. Fuck that. But suspicion here wasn’t warranted. If Akila wanted to get rid of this woman, she would have, and far before she ever got anywhere near her ship.
So, with an unamused expression, she once again raised her brow at the woman, “Egypt.” Was her answer, as plain as it could be. “Does it matter?” No, it very much didn’t. Akila was an equal opportunity asshole. It didn’t matter where someone was from- she’d fuck you up either way. And Akila wasn’t this way because she was Egyptian. She knew plenty of Greeks quick with their knives, present company included.
Now it was Akila’s turn to be suspicious. Was she going to try to attack her simply due to her prejudices- the bitch seemed crazy enough to do just that. Or was she going to run off and pin the whole thing on Akila? Akila would cut the tongue she’d use to snitch and shove it down her throat to choke on if she even thought about doing that.
The cheeky smile that played on Akila’s lips never faded, but her eyes grew sharper as she watched the woman. Akila never trusted anyone- not fully. A knife in the back was just as likely as a knife in the front to her. And she had just met the woman. Akila wouldn’t put a hand on her bloodied khopesh just yet, but should the woman go to make a move- Akila would respond in kind.
The playful sarcastic tone also remained as she gestured around the ship, “Make yourself at home,” Just not too homey. “Unless, of course, this isn’t to your liking?” It certainly was no inn, and Akila expected her to be gone first thing in the morning if not before that. As soon as she was comfortable the coast was clear, at the very least.
What Akila didn’t understand and what Xanthippe wouldn’t tell her was that she was afraid of the water. There were very few things that the young woman feared, but drowning was tantamount among them. She’d been only a child, out on a pleasant day cruise with her lordship’s family, when she fell over the side of the boat and sank like a rock. It was nothing short of the grace of the gods that kept her alive that day, and that was why she was so uncomfortable now.
But fear was weakness. And weakness could not be known.
The sailor declared dryly that she was from Egypt, asking Xanthippe if it mattered. “Sometimes,” was her own dry response. “You tell me if it matters.”
Xanthippe felt no loyalty toward her country, only toward her lord. If she was xenophobic, it was only for the distrust of something different, not out of any sense of blind patriotism. What if Akila wanted to hurt her because of her nationality? Granted, if she did want to hurt her, she could have done it long before now. But what if she was saving up for the moment? Lulling her into a false sense of security before she struck her down?
After all, it was something she would do.
It didn’t matter if she trusted her, though. Xan had made the choice to come aboard, just as she had made the choice to follow her. She didn’t really have a choice, honestly; as the gods said, she was safer on this ship than she was on dry land, especially after all they had just done. Who knew how many guards were out there right now, searching for two women with their descriptions? Would she be spotted and detained as soon as she left the ship? Better to take her chances here, close enough to the dock that she could still get away if she had to. Perhaps she would just stay above deck for now, keep her eyes on her potential exits.
For a moment, she glanced toward the pier, wondering if she maybe she was safer out there. If she had to flee the ship and couldn’t jump to the dock, what if she fell in the water? Would she sink again, only this time, with no one to save her?
She hated this uncertainty. She hated when things didn’t make sense.
She loved this uncertainty. She reveled when things didn’t make sense.
She was a contradiction unto herself.
“I don’t think it is a bad thing to ask where you come from, after the night we’ve had,” Xanthippe pointed out, her brow raised in the other woman’s direction as she crossed her arms over her chest. “We’ve broken at least, oh, I don’t know, three or four laws tonight, all in a row. I don’t think it’s… untoward to ask a few questions. You’re welcome to do the same to me.”
Not that I’ll tell you the truth.
At Akila’s sarcastic suggestion that she make herself at home, Xan smirked and perched herself on the edge of a nearby barrel as she made a show of getting comfortable. “Hm. Don’t mind if I do.” This was fine—an open vantage point, close to the edge of the ship. Entrances and exits covered, Akila and her crew within clear sight. Maybe she could relax a little.
Noting the way the rest of the crew deferred to her, the way she had immediately shoved the crate off on another man, Xan’s gaze turned speculative as it took in the sailor woman. “Are you the captain of this ship, Akila?” Her tone had lost some of its suspicion, replaced instead with a more genuine curiosity. Was such a thing even possible? She’d never heard of a woman captain before.
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What Akila didn’t understand and what Xanthippe wouldn’t tell her was that she was afraid of the water. There were very few things that the young woman feared, but drowning was tantamount among them. She’d been only a child, out on a pleasant day cruise with her lordship’s family, when she fell over the side of the boat and sank like a rock. It was nothing short of the grace of the gods that kept her alive that day, and that was why she was so uncomfortable now.
But fear was weakness. And weakness could not be known.
The sailor declared dryly that she was from Egypt, asking Xanthippe if it mattered. “Sometimes,” was her own dry response. “You tell me if it matters.”
Xanthippe felt no loyalty toward her country, only toward her lord. If she was xenophobic, it was only for the distrust of something different, not out of any sense of blind patriotism. What if Akila wanted to hurt her because of her nationality? Granted, if she did want to hurt her, she could have done it long before now. But what if she was saving up for the moment? Lulling her into a false sense of security before she struck her down?
After all, it was something she would do.
It didn’t matter if she trusted her, though. Xan had made the choice to come aboard, just as she had made the choice to follow her. She didn’t really have a choice, honestly; as the gods said, she was safer on this ship than she was on dry land, especially after all they had just done. Who knew how many guards were out there right now, searching for two women with their descriptions? Would she be spotted and detained as soon as she left the ship? Better to take her chances here, close enough to the dock that she could still get away if she had to. Perhaps she would just stay above deck for now, keep her eyes on her potential exits.
For a moment, she glanced toward the pier, wondering if she maybe she was safer out there. If she had to flee the ship and couldn’t jump to the dock, what if she fell in the water? Would she sink again, only this time, with no one to save her?
She hated this uncertainty. She hated when things didn’t make sense.
She loved this uncertainty. She reveled when things didn’t make sense.
She was a contradiction unto herself.
“I don’t think it is a bad thing to ask where you come from, after the night we’ve had,” Xanthippe pointed out, her brow raised in the other woman’s direction as she crossed her arms over her chest. “We’ve broken at least, oh, I don’t know, three or four laws tonight, all in a row. I don’t think it’s… untoward to ask a few questions. You’re welcome to do the same to me.”
Not that I’ll tell you the truth.
At Akila’s sarcastic suggestion that she make herself at home, Xan smirked and perched herself on the edge of a nearby barrel as she made a show of getting comfortable. “Hm. Don’t mind if I do.” This was fine—an open vantage point, close to the edge of the ship. Entrances and exits covered, Akila and her crew within clear sight. Maybe she could relax a little.
Noting the way the rest of the crew deferred to her, the way she had immediately shoved the crate off on another man, Xan’s gaze turned speculative as it took in the sailor woman. “Are you the captain of this ship, Akila?” Her tone had lost some of its suspicion, replaced instead with a more genuine curiosity. Was such a thing even possible? She’d never heard of a woman captain before.
What Akila didn’t understand and what Xanthippe wouldn’t tell her was that she was afraid of the water. There were very few things that the young woman feared, but drowning was tantamount among them. She’d been only a child, out on a pleasant day cruise with her lordship’s family, when she fell over the side of the boat and sank like a rock. It was nothing short of the grace of the gods that kept her alive that day, and that was why she was so uncomfortable now.
But fear was weakness. And weakness could not be known.
The sailor declared dryly that she was from Egypt, asking Xanthippe if it mattered. “Sometimes,” was her own dry response. “You tell me if it matters.”
Xanthippe felt no loyalty toward her country, only toward her lord. If she was xenophobic, it was only for the distrust of something different, not out of any sense of blind patriotism. What if Akila wanted to hurt her because of her nationality? Granted, if she did want to hurt her, she could have done it long before now. But what if she was saving up for the moment? Lulling her into a false sense of security before she struck her down?
After all, it was something she would do.
It didn’t matter if she trusted her, though. Xan had made the choice to come aboard, just as she had made the choice to follow her. She didn’t really have a choice, honestly; as the gods said, she was safer on this ship than she was on dry land, especially after all they had just done. Who knew how many guards were out there right now, searching for two women with their descriptions? Would she be spotted and detained as soon as she left the ship? Better to take her chances here, close enough to the dock that she could still get away if she had to. Perhaps she would just stay above deck for now, keep her eyes on her potential exits.
For a moment, she glanced toward the pier, wondering if she maybe she was safer out there. If she had to flee the ship and couldn’t jump to the dock, what if she fell in the water? Would she sink again, only this time, with no one to save her?
She hated this uncertainty. She hated when things didn’t make sense.
She loved this uncertainty. She reveled when things didn’t make sense.
She was a contradiction unto herself.
“I don’t think it is a bad thing to ask where you come from, after the night we’ve had,” Xanthippe pointed out, her brow raised in the other woman’s direction as she crossed her arms over her chest. “We’ve broken at least, oh, I don’t know, three or four laws tonight, all in a row. I don’t think it’s… untoward to ask a few questions. You’re welcome to do the same to me.”
Not that I’ll tell you the truth.
At Akila’s sarcastic suggestion that she make herself at home, Xan smirked and perched herself on the edge of a nearby barrel as she made a show of getting comfortable. “Hm. Don’t mind if I do.” This was fine—an open vantage point, close to the edge of the ship. Entrances and exits covered, Akila and her crew within clear sight. Maybe she could relax a little.
Noting the way the rest of the crew deferred to her, the way she had immediately shoved the crate off on another man, Xan’s gaze turned speculative as it took in the sailor woman. “Are you the captain of this ship, Akila?” Her tone had lost some of its suspicion, replaced instead with a more genuine curiosity. Was such a thing even possible? She’d never heard of a woman captain before.
Sometimes. You tell me if it matters. This girl had a mouth. Akila… liked it. She gave her a satisfied smirk. It wasn’t worth another response. So long as the words sand rat didn’t come from her mouth, any answer was fine.
And it wasn’t like sand rat, or sea rat for that matter, was particularly offensive, but to be insulted because of where she was born after such a lovely time together would have stung with betrayal. Akila would only be doing what is right by cutting her tongue and tossing it overboard. Ophelia was a partner in crime, at least for tonight. Cruel words such as that would break Akila’s heart.
That or Akila had a very short fuse.
But alas, the conversation continued as Ophelia got comfortable on one of her barrels. Well, Akila did say make herself at home. Akila continued to lean on the railing, eyes flicking quickly down her body once again. They slowed at the woman’s curves, and especially her breast. Akila was much more a chest girl than she was an ass girl- and this woman had plenty of both. She’d be a good pleasure slave, but Akila cared more about Ophelia in her own bed.
“Only three or four? Slow night.” Akila kicked off the rail and went over to one of the crates. This should ha- ah, yes. Some more wine wouldn’t hurt. “But that’s just me.” Akila bit the cork and popped the small amphorae. One of her men who saw what she was doing disappeared for a second, handing her two mugs. Not all of them were dumb.
“Yeah, I’m captain,” Akila said simply as she poured the wine into the mugs. She handed her new companion another. She knew what she was thinking. It’s the same thing everyone thought. Not just a woman sailor, but a woman captain? How could she do something like that?
Simple. Because Akila gave no fucks and did what she wanted.
Was it easy? No, but she did it anyhow. Eight god damned years of being a ship’s whore, and a bit of time with Khalid being an idiot before the ship realized the smartest, most capable person around also happened to be the same person with the sexiest set of breast. Fight smarter, not harder, and Akila did just that.
But she didn’t want a backstory, and Akila wasn’t going to fucking give it to her. That was boring. Small talk, chitter-chatter, Akila didn’t want to talk about her. She wanted to… know about Ophelia. If that even was her name, she didn’t give much of a shit.
“You fight well.” For a woman, was what most people would add to that. “Where’d you learn to kill?” Akila asked, blunt as ever. Once more, she propped her hip on the rail, this time beside the girl. She wasn’t checking her out this time. She was looking right in her eyes.
“You can probably guess where I picked it up.” Akila gestured around. She wasn’t hiding much. Akila didn’t feel at a particular disadvantage. “But you? The pretty blond Greek woman alone in the tavern? You’re not the type I’d expect to see gutting men like pigs.” Which they were. Akila took a swig of her wine. “What’s the story?”
Truth or lie, Akila didn’t much care either. There was no way to verify, and she doubted she would ever see the woman again. Besides, Akila didn’t trust anyone but herself and her crew, and that woman was certainly neither of them. But nonetheless, Akila wanted a good story... or good sex, whichever the woman was willing to give her.
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Sometimes. You tell me if it matters. This girl had a mouth. Akila… liked it. She gave her a satisfied smirk. It wasn’t worth another response. So long as the words sand rat didn’t come from her mouth, any answer was fine.
And it wasn’t like sand rat, or sea rat for that matter, was particularly offensive, but to be insulted because of where she was born after such a lovely time together would have stung with betrayal. Akila would only be doing what is right by cutting her tongue and tossing it overboard. Ophelia was a partner in crime, at least for tonight. Cruel words such as that would break Akila’s heart.
That or Akila had a very short fuse.
But alas, the conversation continued as Ophelia got comfortable on one of her barrels. Well, Akila did say make herself at home. Akila continued to lean on the railing, eyes flicking quickly down her body once again. They slowed at the woman’s curves, and especially her breast. Akila was much more a chest girl than she was an ass girl- and this woman had plenty of both. She’d be a good pleasure slave, but Akila cared more about Ophelia in her own bed.
“Only three or four? Slow night.” Akila kicked off the rail and went over to one of the crates. This should ha- ah, yes. Some more wine wouldn’t hurt. “But that’s just me.” Akila bit the cork and popped the small amphorae. One of her men who saw what she was doing disappeared for a second, handing her two mugs. Not all of them were dumb.
“Yeah, I’m captain,” Akila said simply as she poured the wine into the mugs. She handed her new companion another. She knew what she was thinking. It’s the same thing everyone thought. Not just a woman sailor, but a woman captain? How could she do something like that?
Simple. Because Akila gave no fucks and did what she wanted.
Was it easy? No, but she did it anyhow. Eight god damned years of being a ship’s whore, and a bit of time with Khalid being an idiot before the ship realized the smartest, most capable person around also happened to be the same person with the sexiest set of breast. Fight smarter, not harder, and Akila did just that.
But she didn’t want a backstory, and Akila wasn’t going to fucking give it to her. That was boring. Small talk, chitter-chatter, Akila didn’t want to talk about her. She wanted to… know about Ophelia. If that even was her name, she didn’t give much of a shit.
“You fight well.” For a woman, was what most people would add to that. “Where’d you learn to kill?” Akila asked, blunt as ever. Once more, she propped her hip on the rail, this time beside the girl. She wasn’t checking her out this time. She was looking right in her eyes.
“You can probably guess where I picked it up.” Akila gestured around. She wasn’t hiding much. Akila didn’t feel at a particular disadvantage. “But you? The pretty blond Greek woman alone in the tavern? You’re not the type I’d expect to see gutting men like pigs.” Which they were. Akila took a swig of her wine. “What’s the story?”
Truth or lie, Akila didn’t much care either. There was no way to verify, and she doubted she would ever see the woman again. Besides, Akila didn’t trust anyone but herself and her crew, and that woman was certainly neither of them. But nonetheless, Akila wanted a good story... or good sex, whichever the woman was willing to give her.
Sometimes. You tell me if it matters. This girl had a mouth. Akila… liked it. She gave her a satisfied smirk. It wasn’t worth another response. So long as the words sand rat didn’t come from her mouth, any answer was fine.
And it wasn’t like sand rat, or sea rat for that matter, was particularly offensive, but to be insulted because of where she was born after such a lovely time together would have stung with betrayal. Akila would only be doing what is right by cutting her tongue and tossing it overboard. Ophelia was a partner in crime, at least for tonight. Cruel words such as that would break Akila’s heart.
That or Akila had a very short fuse.
But alas, the conversation continued as Ophelia got comfortable on one of her barrels. Well, Akila did say make herself at home. Akila continued to lean on the railing, eyes flicking quickly down her body once again. They slowed at the woman’s curves, and especially her breast. Akila was much more a chest girl than she was an ass girl- and this woman had plenty of both. She’d be a good pleasure slave, but Akila cared more about Ophelia in her own bed.
“Only three or four? Slow night.” Akila kicked off the rail and went over to one of the crates. This should ha- ah, yes. Some more wine wouldn’t hurt. “But that’s just me.” Akila bit the cork and popped the small amphorae. One of her men who saw what she was doing disappeared for a second, handing her two mugs. Not all of them were dumb.
“Yeah, I’m captain,” Akila said simply as she poured the wine into the mugs. She handed her new companion another. She knew what she was thinking. It’s the same thing everyone thought. Not just a woman sailor, but a woman captain? How could she do something like that?
Simple. Because Akila gave no fucks and did what she wanted.
Was it easy? No, but she did it anyhow. Eight god damned years of being a ship’s whore, and a bit of time with Khalid being an idiot before the ship realized the smartest, most capable person around also happened to be the same person with the sexiest set of breast. Fight smarter, not harder, and Akila did just that.
But she didn’t want a backstory, and Akila wasn’t going to fucking give it to her. That was boring. Small talk, chitter-chatter, Akila didn’t want to talk about her. She wanted to… know about Ophelia. If that even was her name, she didn’t give much of a shit.
“You fight well.” For a woman, was what most people would add to that. “Where’d you learn to kill?” Akila asked, blunt as ever. Once more, she propped her hip on the rail, this time beside the girl. She wasn’t checking her out this time. She was looking right in her eyes.
“You can probably guess where I picked it up.” Akila gestured around. She wasn’t hiding much. Akila didn’t feel at a particular disadvantage. “But you? The pretty blond Greek woman alone in the tavern? You’re not the type I’d expect to see gutting men like pigs.” Which they were. Akila took a swig of her wine. “What’s the story?”
Truth or lie, Akila didn’t much care either. There was no way to verify, and she doubted she would ever see the woman again. Besides, Akila didn’t trust anyone but herself and her crew, and that woman was certainly neither of them. But nonetheless, Akila wanted a good story... or good sex, whichever the woman was willing to give her.
It discomfited her a little, the way the other woman’s gaze travelled down her body as if inspecting her for flaws. Of course, that wasn’t actually what Akila was doing, but Xanthippe was often oblivious to such overtures. She understood sex and attraction, at least on a basic level, but her own tastes were… not so easy to define. As was much of her experience of the world around her—it was always a little bit different than the ways others described it. To her, sex was a tool, not necessarily a pleasure, and if nothing could be gained from it, what was the point? But there were times she felt arousal without the ability to interpret it—inappropriate times where lust should not come in to play. It was a complicated feeling, one she didn’t understand, so she simply ignored it, and even now, she did not think to pinpoint it for what it was.
Akila’s attention soon shifted, anyhow, turning the conversation back to her after giving the blunt answer that she was the captain. She asked Xan how she had learned to fight, pointing out that she didn’t exactly seem the type, and the woman smirked a little in return. Did she really expect her to tell her anything remotely truthful? There were some stories she told no one, particularly a stranger.
“I was taught,” she answered simply, though she neglected to say by who. “And I train every day. Only a fool lets their body fall to waste with the dangers of the world at every turn.”
Tell her how the power of the gods imbues you with your strength.
Does it?
You are alive and strong now, are you not? Who do you think is to blame?
Not often you, as much as you try to get me in trouble.
And yet, here you stand. Hale and whole. Healthy and well. Perhaps we challenge you and protect you in ways you don’t even understand.
It would be nice if you helped me to understand now and then.
“There is not much of a story to tell,” she went on with a shrug, though she supposed that wasn’t quite true. Perhaps her story was a little more fascinating from an outside perspective, but it was her story, and not to be revealed to the likes of this woman. Xanthippe knew things no mortal should know, heard things no mortal should hear, and it was not her place to set that burden on others.
Besides, why she was so nosy? Why did she need to know? Did she seek to build a case against her, use the fodder she gave when the authorities came swooping down on them both? No, that was just her paranoia talking. Xanthippe had told her she could ask questions, even if she hadn’t promised the truth. Did she expect Akila to do otherwise?
Is it paranoia or us?
I know the difference between my voice and yours.
Do you?
Truthfully, she didn’t, not always. There were times where it felt like she was being overcome, where the gods meant to erase the little spark that made her her. Part of her thought it a blessing, a grand gift that the gods should find her so worthy. But what would happen when she was erased? When she was nothing more than a walking vessel? Was she even a real person now?
No, now was not the time to be overwhelmed by existential worry. Of course she was real. She was here now, wasn’t she?
Xanthippe doubtfully eyed the mug of wine offered to her before she took it, wondering if more alcohol was really the best option at the moment. Wasn’t that what got her into all this mess? But perhaps it would help quiet the raging doubt, the crippling paranoia that made her question every word that dropped from her lips.
But wasn’t that what kept her alive?
Realizing she had been quiet for a long time now, not even sure if Akila had spoke again since she had, the handmaid shook her head and took a deep swallow of the offered beverage. If she was breaking more rules tonight, she might as well break them all.
“I was born here, I will likely die here, but I will not die without a fight. That’s all there really is to tell,” she finally said after such a long pause. “Anything beyond that is unnecessary.”
After another moment, she added, “Most men are pigs, I find. They deserve little better than what those men back there got.”
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It discomfited her a little, the way the other woman’s gaze travelled down her body as if inspecting her for flaws. Of course, that wasn’t actually what Akila was doing, but Xanthippe was often oblivious to such overtures. She understood sex and attraction, at least on a basic level, but her own tastes were… not so easy to define. As was much of her experience of the world around her—it was always a little bit different than the ways others described it. To her, sex was a tool, not necessarily a pleasure, and if nothing could be gained from it, what was the point? But there were times she felt arousal without the ability to interpret it—inappropriate times where lust should not come in to play. It was a complicated feeling, one she didn’t understand, so she simply ignored it, and even now, she did not think to pinpoint it for what it was.
Akila’s attention soon shifted, anyhow, turning the conversation back to her after giving the blunt answer that she was the captain. She asked Xan how she had learned to fight, pointing out that she didn’t exactly seem the type, and the woman smirked a little in return. Did she really expect her to tell her anything remotely truthful? There were some stories she told no one, particularly a stranger.
“I was taught,” she answered simply, though she neglected to say by who. “And I train every day. Only a fool lets their body fall to waste with the dangers of the world at every turn.”
Tell her how the power of the gods imbues you with your strength.
Does it?
You are alive and strong now, are you not? Who do you think is to blame?
Not often you, as much as you try to get me in trouble.
And yet, here you stand. Hale and whole. Healthy and well. Perhaps we challenge you and protect you in ways you don’t even understand.
It would be nice if you helped me to understand now and then.
“There is not much of a story to tell,” she went on with a shrug, though she supposed that wasn’t quite true. Perhaps her story was a little more fascinating from an outside perspective, but it was her story, and not to be revealed to the likes of this woman. Xanthippe knew things no mortal should know, heard things no mortal should hear, and it was not her place to set that burden on others.
Besides, why she was so nosy? Why did she need to know? Did she seek to build a case against her, use the fodder she gave when the authorities came swooping down on them both? No, that was just her paranoia talking. Xanthippe had told her she could ask questions, even if she hadn’t promised the truth. Did she expect Akila to do otherwise?
Is it paranoia or us?
I know the difference between my voice and yours.
Do you?
Truthfully, she didn’t, not always. There were times where it felt like she was being overcome, where the gods meant to erase the little spark that made her her. Part of her thought it a blessing, a grand gift that the gods should find her so worthy. But what would happen when she was erased? When she was nothing more than a walking vessel? Was she even a real person now?
No, now was not the time to be overwhelmed by existential worry. Of course she was real. She was here now, wasn’t she?
Xanthippe doubtfully eyed the mug of wine offered to her before she took it, wondering if more alcohol was really the best option at the moment. Wasn’t that what got her into all this mess? But perhaps it would help quiet the raging doubt, the crippling paranoia that made her question every word that dropped from her lips.
But wasn’t that what kept her alive?
Realizing she had been quiet for a long time now, not even sure if Akila had spoke again since she had, the handmaid shook her head and took a deep swallow of the offered beverage. If she was breaking more rules tonight, she might as well break them all.
“I was born here, I will likely die here, but I will not die without a fight. That’s all there really is to tell,” she finally said after such a long pause. “Anything beyond that is unnecessary.”
After another moment, she added, “Most men are pigs, I find. They deserve little better than what those men back there got.”
It discomfited her a little, the way the other woman’s gaze travelled down her body as if inspecting her for flaws. Of course, that wasn’t actually what Akila was doing, but Xanthippe was often oblivious to such overtures. She understood sex and attraction, at least on a basic level, but her own tastes were… not so easy to define. As was much of her experience of the world around her—it was always a little bit different than the ways others described it. To her, sex was a tool, not necessarily a pleasure, and if nothing could be gained from it, what was the point? But there were times she felt arousal without the ability to interpret it—inappropriate times where lust should not come in to play. It was a complicated feeling, one she didn’t understand, so she simply ignored it, and even now, she did not think to pinpoint it for what it was.
Akila’s attention soon shifted, anyhow, turning the conversation back to her after giving the blunt answer that she was the captain. She asked Xan how she had learned to fight, pointing out that she didn’t exactly seem the type, and the woman smirked a little in return. Did she really expect her to tell her anything remotely truthful? There were some stories she told no one, particularly a stranger.
“I was taught,” she answered simply, though she neglected to say by who. “And I train every day. Only a fool lets their body fall to waste with the dangers of the world at every turn.”
Tell her how the power of the gods imbues you with your strength.
Does it?
You are alive and strong now, are you not? Who do you think is to blame?
Not often you, as much as you try to get me in trouble.
And yet, here you stand. Hale and whole. Healthy and well. Perhaps we challenge you and protect you in ways you don’t even understand.
It would be nice if you helped me to understand now and then.
“There is not much of a story to tell,” she went on with a shrug, though she supposed that wasn’t quite true. Perhaps her story was a little more fascinating from an outside perspective, but it was her story, and not to be revealed to the likes of this woman. Xanthippe knew things no mortal should know, heard things no mortal should hear, and it was not her place to set that burden on others.
Besides, why she was so nosy? Why did she need to know? Did she seek to build a case against her, use the fodder she gave when the authorities came swooping down on them both? No, that was just her paranoia talking. Xanthippe had told her she could ask questions, even if she hadn’t promised the truth. Did she expect Akila to do otherwise?
Is it paranoia or us?
I know the difference between my voice and yours.
Do you?
Truthfully, she didn’t, not always. There were times where it felt like she was being overcome, where the gods meant to erase the little spark that made her her. Part of her thought it a blessing, a grand gift that the gods should find her so worthy. But what would happen when she was erased? When she was nothing more than a walking vessel? Was she even a real person now?
No, now was not the time to be overwhelmed by existential worry. Of course she was real. She was here now, wasn’t she?
Xanthippe doubtfully eyed the mug of wine offered to her before she took it, wondering if more alcohol was really the best option at the moment. Wasn’t that what got her into all this mess? But perhaps it would help quiet the raging doubt, the crippling paranoia that made her question every word that dropped from her lips.
But wasn’t that what kept her alive?
Realizing she had been quiet for a long time now, not even sure if Akila had spoke again since she had, the handmaid shook her head and took a deep swallow of the offered beverage. If she was breaking more rules tonight, she might as well break them all.
“I was born here, I will likely die here, but I will not die without a fight. That’s all there really is to tell,” she finally said after such a long pause. “Anything beyond that is unnecessary.”
After another moment, she added, “Most men are pigs, I find. They deserve little better than what those men back there got.”
What danger has this girl seen? Who taught her? Why was she taught? All questions Akila was curious about. But Akila wasn’t a dumbass. This girl wouldn’t tell her. Akila was more and more convinced with each passing second that the girl would prefer to pry out her own teeth than tell Akila anything of worth. It was a shame. She was so entertaining earlier in the night. Now she was… well, boring.
None of what she told Akila explained how she learned to kill. Fighting and killing were two very different skills. Though perhaps there was something fundamentally wrong with this observation. Could you learn to kill, or was that something innate? Were people born with that ability, or was it taught over time? Akila had seen men pushed to the brink where they chose their own death over someone else’s. Those men were weak, and they deserved to no longer exist. Akila was never taught to kill; she decided to do it all on her own. But her experience did not mean that others were the same way.
This was too much philosophy for her drunk brain and not something Akila thought the girl would have anything to supply. Instead, she listened to what the girl had to say. Most men are pigs, I find. Fuck if that wasn’t true. Akila had yet to find a man; her crew included, that wasn’t some sort of pig. But to be fair, women were as well. All around her, people were rotten. The world was not separated by good people and bad people. No, they were separated by people who acknowledged it and people who lived in denial. Akila fucking acknowledged that she was a piece of shit person and lived with no regrets because of it.
“Couldn’t have put it better myself.” Akila clinked her mug with her companion before tipping her head back as she downed the rest of the wine. That was good. Right, she should continue off with the night. “Right through, there are my quarters.” Akila pointed to a closed-off area of her ship. “Let’s fuck.”
Akila had a way with words. She could be a silver-tongued seducer. Honey just dripped from her words. Her eyes could cloud with lustful allure, drawing a person in. But… that was when Akila gave a shit. She didn’t really care about the song and dance. If there was one thing Akila lacked, it was patience. She was blunt, to the point.
Sure, there was a chance this woman wasn’t into women. But what did Akila have to lose? She could say no, and who the fuck cared? It’s not like Akila would lose sleep over it. Though… a little more alcohol wouldn’t harm Akila’s chances. She topped off the woman’s drink. “Unless you’d rather do it right here. But my crew don’t fucking deserve that show.” They were shit heads, the lot of them. They could wank off to little shows in the tavern, not to her, and this lovely woman that Akila was spending time with.
So with a grand gesture towards the captain’s quarters and a quirk of her scarred brow, Akila smirked at the woman, “After you.” Captain Akila of Edwa, Songstress of the Sea, Child of the Sands, and Master of Pickup Lines, clearly. How could she not be wooed?
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What danger has this girl seen? Who taught her? Why was she taught? All questions Akila was curious about. But Akila wasn’t a dumbass. This girl wouldn’t tell her. Akila was more and more convinced with each passing second that the girl would prefer to pry out her own teeth than tell Akila anything of worth. It was a shame. She was so entertaining earlier in the night. Now she was… well, boring.
None of what she told Akila explained how she learned to kill. Fighting and killing were two very different skills. Though perhaps there was something fundamentally wrong with this observation. Could you learn to kill, or was that something innate? Were people born with that ability, or was it taught over time? Akila had seen men pushed to the brink where they chose their own death over someone else’s. Those men were weak, and they deserved to no longer exist. Akila was never taught to kill; she decided to do it all on her own. But her experience did not mean that others were the same way.
This was too much philosophy for her drunk brain and not something Akila thought the girl would have anything to supply. Instead, she listened to what the girl had to say. Most men are pigs, I find. Fuck if that wasn’t true. Akila had yet to find a man; her crew included, that wasn’t some sort of pig. But to be fair, women were as well. All around her, people were rotten. The world was not separated by good people and bad people. No, they were separated by people who acknowledged it and people who lived in denial. Akila fucking acknowledged that she was a piece of shit person and lived with no regrets because of it.
“Couldn’t have put it better myself.” Akila clinked her mug with her companion before tipping her head back as she downed the rest of the wine. That was good. Right, she should continue off with the night. “Right through, there are my quarters.” Akila pointed to a closed-off area of her ship. “Let’s fuck.”
Akila had a way with words. She could be a silver-tongued seducer. Honey just dripped from her words. Her eyes could cloud with lustful allure, drawing a person in. But… that was when Akila gave a shit. She didn’t really care about the song and dance. If there was one thing Akila lacked, it was patience. She was blunt, to the point.
Sure, there was a chance this woman wasn’t into women. But what did Akila have to lose? She could say no, and who the fuck cared? It’s not like Akila would lose sleep over it. Though… a little more alcohol wouldn’t harm Akila’s chances. She topped off the woman’s drink. “Unless you’d rather do it right here. But my crew don’t fucking deserve that show.” They were shit heads, the lot of them. They could wank off to little shows in the tavern, not to her, and this lovely woman that Akila was spending time with.
So with a grand gesture towards the captain’s quarters and a quirk of her scarred brow, Akila smirked at the woman, “After you.” Captain Akila of Edwa, Songstress of the Sea, Child of the Sands, and Master of Pickup Lines, clearly. How could she not be wooed?
What danger has this girl seen? Who taught her? Why was she taught? All questions Akila was curious about. But Akila wasn’t a dumbass. This girl wouldn’t tell her. Akila was more and more convinced with each passing second that the girl would prefer to pry out her own teeth than tell Akila anything of worth. It was a shame. She was so entertaining earlier in the night. Now she was… well, boring.
None of what she told Akila explained how she learned to kill. Fighting and killing were two very different skills. Though perhaps there was something fundamentally wrong with this observation. Could you learn to kill, or was that something innate? Were people born with that ability, or was it taught over time? Akila had seen men pushed to the brink where they chose their own death over someone else’s. Those men were weak, and they deserved to no longer exist. Akila was never taught to kill; she decided to do it all on her own. But her experience did not mean that others were the same way.
This was too much philosophy for her drunk brain and not something Akila thought the girl would have anything to supply. Instead, she listened to what the girl had to say. Most men are pigs, I find. Fuck if that wasn’t true. Akila had yet to find a man; her crew included, that wasn’t some sort of pig. But to be fair, women were as well. All around her, people were rotten. The world was not separated by good people and bad people. No, they were separated by people who acknowledged it and people who lived in denial. Akila fucking acknowledged that she was a piece of shit person and lived with no regrets because of it.
“Couldn’t have put it better myself.” Akila clinked her mug with her companion before tipping her head back as she downed the rest of the wine. That was good. Right, she should continue off with the night. “Right through, there are my quarters.” Akila pointed to a closed-off area of her ship. “Let’s fuck.”
Akila had a way with words. She could be a silver-tongued seducer. Honey just dripped from her words. Her eyes could cloud with lustful allure, drawing a person in. But… that was when Akila gave a shit. She didn’t really care about the song and dance. If there was one thing Akila lacked, it was patience. She was blunt, to the point.
Sure, there was a chance this woman wasn’t into women. But what did Akila have to lose? She could say no, and who the fuck cared? It’s not like Akila would lose sleep over it. Though… a little more alcohol wouldn’t harm Akila’s chances. She topped off the woman’s drink. “Unless you’d rather do it right here. But my crew don’t fucking deserve that show.” They were shit heads, the lot of them. They could wank off to little shows in the tavern, not to her, and this lovely woman that Akila was spending time with.
So with a grand gesture towards the captain’s quarters and a quirk of her scarred brow, Akila smirked at the woman, “After you.” Captain Akila of Edwa, Songstress of the Sea, Child of the Sands, and Master of Pickup Lines, clearly. How could she not be wooed?
Xanthippe wasn’t sure if she could have been more surprised by the woman’s next words, a mug clinked against hers as the ship’s captain bluntly suggested they go fuck. Wait… what? Had she just heard her correctly? The shock was sure to be plain on her face as she turned to eye Akila, attempting to ascertain if she had been serious or not. Was this some further ploy to weaken her? To gain her trust so that she could be easily tossed away? Or did she actually mean it?
And if she did mean it… what was Xan supposed to say? She wasn’t exactly the sort to go falling into strangers’ beds, particularly if there was nothing to be gained from it. She didn’t really understand the people that did that sort of thing, that seemed to enjoy the conquest of finding new bedfellows. Was it love that drove them? An uncontrollable lust? She supposed she could understand that, though the things she lusted for were not quite so accepted.
“Are you… what?”
Such a brilliant response, one that was sure to go down in the annals of history. She still couldn’t figure out if this woman was joking or not, and Xanthippe found herself… flustered. An odd state of being for one like her, and numb, unthinking fingers raised her glass to her lips when Akila topped it off again. Her eyes widened when she even suggested they could just do it right there on the deck, and surely that meant she wasn’t serious. She wouldn’t just… do that, would she?
Coward.
Are you serious right now?
Live a little, Xanthippe.
I would say I’ve lived a lot tonight, thank you.
Sex is a normal part of being human.
Well, I’m not exactly a normal human, now am I? Besides, she’s a woman.
And a beautiful one at that. Look at her, those curves, that supple flesh. You’ve spilled blood together. How much more intimate can you become?
It’s wrong.
But killing’s right?
That was different.
Was it?
Were the gods actually… encouraging her to do this? Since when were they trying to get her bedded? Did they think she might have something to gain from this woman, and that’s why they thought she should do it? What did they know that she didn’t?
Plenty.
Oh, shut up.
Maybe there was merit to this, and she couldn’t deny the fierce thrill she’d felt earlier in the night when she stood there with Akila, her blade slashing through flesh and bone. She imagined it was much like the lust others felt, drawing her breath short and flushing pale skin. She wondered if Akila felt that same rush, and perhaps that was why she made her suggestion now. After all, it was a common enough thing for soldiers following the heat of battle, was it not? A release of tension, a celebration of life itself?
“I don’t… I’ve never been with a woman before,” she finally managed to stammer out, though it wasn’t a denial, exactly. There was a warmth building under skin, and it wasn’t the alcohol this time. “How do you even… What goes where?”
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Xanthippe wasn’t sure if she could have been more surprised by the woman’s next words, a mug clinked against hers as the ship’s captain bluntly suggested they go fuck. Wait… what? Had she just heard her correctly? The shock was sure to be plain on her face as she turned to eye Akila, attempting to ascertain if she had been serious or not. Was this some further ploy to weaken her? To gain her trust so that she could be easily tossed away? Or did she actually mean it?
And if she did mean it… what was Xan supposed to say? She wasn’t exactly the sort to go falling into strangers’ beds, particularly if there was nothing to be gained from it. She didn’t really understand the people that did that sort of thing, that seemed to enjoy the conquest of finding new bedfellows. Was it love that drove them? An uncontrollable lust? She supposed she could understand that, though the things she lusted for were not quite so accepted.
“Are you… what?”
Such a brilliant response, one that was sure to go down in the annals of history. She still couldn’t figure out if this woman was joking or not, and Xanthippe found herself… flustered. An odd state of being for one like her, and numb, unthinking fingers raised her glass to her lips when Akila topped it off again. Her eyes widened when she even suggested they could just do it right there on the deck, and surely that meant she wasn’t serious. She wouldn’t just… do that, would she?
Coward.
Are you serious right now?
Live a little, Xanthippe.
I would say I’ve lived a lot tonight, thank you.
Sex is a normal part of being human.
Well, I’m not exactly a normal human, now am I? Besides, she’s a woman.
And a beautiful one at that. Look at her, those curves, that supple flesh. You’ve spilled blood together. How much more intimate can you become?
It’s wrong.
But killing’s right?
That was different.
Was it?
Were the gods actually… encouraging her to do this? Since when were they trying to get her bedded? Did they think she might have something to gain from this woman, and that’s why they thought she should do it? What did they know that she didn’t?
Plenty.
Oh, shut up.
Maybe there was merit to this, and she couldn’t deny the fierce thrill she’d felt earlier in the night when she stood there with Akila, her blade slashing through flesh and bone. She imagined it was much like the lust others felt, drawing her breath short and flushing pale skin. She wondered if Akila felt that same rush, and perhaps that was why she made her suggestion now. After all, it was a common enough thing for soldiers following the heat of battle, was it not? A release of tension, a celebration of life itself?
“I don’t… I’ve never been with a woman before,” she finally managed to stammer out, though it wasn’t a denial, exactly. There was a warmth building under skin, and it wasn’t the alcohol this time. “How do you even… What goes where?”
Xanthippe wasn’t sure if she could have been more surprised by the woman’s next words, a mug clinked against hers as the ship’s captain bluntly suggested they go fuck. Wait… what? Had she just heard her correctly? The shock was sure to be plain on her face as she turned to eye Akila, attempting to ascertain if she had been serious or not. Was this some further ploy to weaken her? To gain her trust so that she could be easily tossed away? Or did she actually mean it?
And if she did mean it… what was Xan supposed to say? She wasn’t exactly the sort to go falling into strangers’ beds, particularly if there was nothing to be gained from it. She didn’t really understand the people that did that sort of thing, that seemed to enjoy the conquest of finding new bedfellows. Was it love that drove them? An uncontrollable lust? She supposed she could understand that, though the things she lusted for were not quite so accepted.
“Are you… what?”
Such a brilliant response, one that was sure to go down in the annals of history. She still couldn’t figure out if this woman was joking or not, and Xanthippe found herself… flustered. An odd state of being for one like her, and numb, unthinking fingers raised her glass to her lips when Akila topped it off again. Her eyes widened when she even suggested they could just do it right there on the deck, and surely that meant she wasn’t serious. She wouldn’t just… do that, would she?
Coward.
Are you serious right now?
Live a little, Xanthippe.
I would say I’ve lived a lot tonight, thank you.
Sex is a normal part of being human.
Well, I’m not exactly a normal human, now am I? Besides, she’s a woman.
And a beautiful one at that. Look at her, those curves, that supple flesh. You’ve spilled blood together. How much more intimate can you become?
It’s wrong.
But killing’s right?
That was different.
Was it?
Were the gods actually… encouraging her to do this? Since when were they trying to get her bedded? Did they think she might have something to gain from this woman, and that’s why they thought she should do it? What did they know that she didn’t?
Plenty.
Oh, shut up.
Maybe there was merit to this, and she couldn’t deny the fierce thrill she’d felt earlier in the night when she stood there with Akila, her blade slashing through flesh and bone. She imagined it was much like the lust others felt, drawing her breath short and flushing pale skin. She wondered if Akila felt that same rush, and perhaps that was why she made her suggestion now. After all, it was a common enough thing for soldiers following the heat of battle, was it not? A release of tension, a celebration of life itself?
“I don’t… I’ve never been with a woman before,” she finally managed to stammer out, though it wasn’t a denial, exactly. There was a warmth building under skin, and it wasn’t the alcohol this time. “How do you even… What goes where?”
The girl looked perplexed, like a deer caught in the woods. Akila didn’t much expect that response. Perhaps a no, maybe, if she were straight, or some enthused excitement otherwise- but not complete and utter befuddlement. What was Akila too blunt? She didn’t seem like the type to need romancing, nor was Akila the type to wine and dine her bed buddies. Did she not notice Akila checking her out? Was she that thick?
I don’t… I’ve never been with a woman before.
Cute. Beautiful, deadly, and completely innocent in the ways of bedding women. This would be fun. What goes where? Precious. Akila will teach her. And she’d have so much fun doing it. And that beautiful blush building on her cheeks. Akila’s hand gently brushed them, “Follow me.”
She led the girl to her private captain’s quarters, taking a moment to light a candle to give a nice ambiance to the room. Not… that Akila was that romantic of a girl. Things would get violent, she was sure of it.
“I’ll teach you,” Akila said, tilting her head to one side. She made her way towards the girl, hand sliding to the fasten at her waist, untying it with ease. There she saw what Akila had been thinking about since she first laid her eyes on them- those drop-dead sexy breasts, with nipples just begging to have the pirate girl’s mouth to be around. And then there was her bare ass that was just looking to be smacked.
This was going to be a fucking great night.
“You never know when this… might be useful to you.” Like if the two ever ran into each other again. Look at Akila, being oh so friendly. “You want to know what goes where? Well, your hands… can go right here…” Akila brought them up to the woman’s breast, assisting her kneading them. Akila ran her finger over the woman’s nipples, a small twist to perk them up and harden. She’ll have them aching for her before the night was out.
“To start with. And then your lips,” Akila took a step closer to close the distance between the pair. One hand remained at her breast, while the other went to her chin, tilting it towards the pirate. “Fights for dominance.”
Akila attacked them with her own, giving the breast a squeeze with her hand. Her teeth grazed the bottom of the girl’s lip. She couldn’t help but marvel every time she kissed a woman how tiny their lips were in comparison to men, and yet she had meant plenty that was far fiercer than any men she knew. Akila sucked on the woman’s bottom lip, giving her a look that was clouded with pure lust before breaking apart again.
“And then,” Akila said, with a smirk dancing across her face and eyes glinting with amusement, “You do back. Rougher.” This woman had fight, Akila had seen more than enough evidence of that. But how much fight she had well… Akila’s eyes dropped to the daggers that were strapped to her. Akila wanted to find out.
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The girl looked perplexed, like a deer caught in the woods. Akila didn’t much expect that response. Perhaps a no, maybe, if she were straight, or some enthused excitement otherwise- but not complete and utter befuddlement. What was Akila too blunt? She didn’t seem like the type to need romancing, nor was Akila the type to wine and dine her bed buddies. Did she not notice Akila checking her out? Was she that thick?
I don’t… I’ve never been with a woman before.
Cute. Beautiful, deadly, and completely innocent in the ways of bedding women. This would be fun. What goes where? Precious. Akila will teach her. And she’d have so much fun doing it. And that beautiful blush building on her cheeks. Akila’s hand gently brushed them, “Follow me.”
She led the girl to her private captain’s quarters, taking a moment to light a candle to give a nice ambiance to the room. Not… that Akila was that romantic of a girl. Things would get violent, she was sure of it.
“I’ll teach you,” Akila said, tilting her head to one side. She made her way towards the girl, hand sliding to the fasten at her waist, untying it with ease. There she saw what Akila had been thinking about since she first laid her eyes on them- those drop-dead sexy breasts, with nipples just begging to have the pirate girl’s mouth to be around. And then there was her bare ass that was just looking to be smacked.
This was going to be a fucking great night.
“You never know when this… might be useful to you.” Like if the two ever ran into each other again. Look at Akila, being oh so friendly. “You want to know what goes where? Well, your hands… can go right here…” Akila brought them up to the woman’s breast, assisting her kneading them. Akila ran her finger over the woman’s nipples, a small twist to perk them up and harden. She’ll have them aching for her before the night was out.
“To start with. And then your lips,” Akila took a step closer to close the distance between the pair. One hand remained at her breast, while the other went to her chin, tilting it towards the pirate. “Fights for dominance.”
Akila attacked them with her own, giving the breast a squeeze with her hand. Her teeth grazed the bottom of the girl’s lip. She couldn’t help but marvel every time she kissed a woman how tiny their lips were in comparison to men, and yet she had meant plenty that was far fiercer than any men she knew. Akila sucked on the woman’s bottom lip, giving her a look that was clouded with pure lust before breaking apart again.
“And then,” Akila said, with a smirk dancing across her face and eyes glinting with amusement, “You do back. Rougher.” This woman had fight, Akila had seen more than enough evidence of that. But how much fight she had well… Akila’s eyes dropped to the daggers that were strapped to her. Akila wanted to find out.
The girl looked perplexed, like a deer caught in the woods. Akila didn’t much expect that response. Perhaps a no, maybe, if she were straight, or some enthused excitement otherwise- but not complete and utter befuddlement. What was Akila too blunt? She didn’t seem like the type to need romancing, nor was Akila the type to wine and dine her bed buddies. Did she not notice Akila checking her out? Was she that thick?
I don’t… I’ve never been with a woman before.
Cute. Beautiful, deadly, and completely innocent in the ways of bedding women. This would be fun. What goes where? Precious. Akila will teach her. And she’d have so much fun doing it. And that beautiful blush building on her cheeks. Akila’s hand gently brushed them, “Follow me.”
She led the girl to her private captain’s quarters, taking a moment to light a candle to give a nice ambiance to the room. Not… that Akila was that romantic of a girl. Things would get violent, she was sure of it.
“I’ll teach you,” Akila said, tilting her head to one side. She made her way towards the girl, hand sliding to the fasten at her waist, untying it with ease. There she saw what Akila had been thinking about since she first laid her eyes on them- those drop-dead sexy breasts, with nipples just begging to have the pirate girl’s mouth to be around. And then there was her bare ass that was just looking to be smacked.
This was going to be a fucking great night.
“You never know when this… might be useful to you.” Like if the two ever ran into each other again. Look at Akila, being oh so friendly. “You want to know what goes where? Well, your hands… can go right here…” Akila brought them up to the woman’s breast, assisting her kneading them. Akila ran her finger over the woman’s nipples, a small twist to perk them up and harden. She’ll have them aching for her before the night was out.
“To start with. And then your lips,” Akila took a step closer to close the distance between the pair. One hand remained at her breast, while the other went to her chin, tilting it towards the pirate. “Fights for dominance.”
Akila attacked them with her own, giving the breast a squeeze with her hand. Her teeth grazed the bottom of the girl’s lip. She couldn’t help but marvel every time she kissed a woman how tiny their lips were in comparison to men, and yet she had meant plenty that was far fiercer than any men she knew. Akila sucked on the woman’s bottom lip, giving her a look that was clouded with pure lust before breaking apart again.
“And then,” Akila said, with a smirk dancing across her face and eyes glinting with amusement, “You do back. Rougher.” This woman had fight, Akila had seen more than enough evidence of that. But how much fight she had well… Akila’s eyes dropped to the daggers that were strapped to her. Akila wanted to find out.
Xanthippe followed after the other woman in a sort of daze, feeling as if her body was under some control that wasn’t her own. Was she really about to do this? Would she regret it later? Would she even like it? She posed these questions to the gods themselves, and yet, they remained curiously silent, as if holding their breath in anticipation. Well. Wasn’t that interesting?
Once the door was closed behind them, Akila was lighting a candle, and then was on her again, her hands fiddling with the ties of her clothing. For a moment, Xan raised her own hand as if to stop her, unsure this was the right thing to be doing. Why were the gods being so quiet now? Why was it when she actually needed their advice, they couldn’t be bothered to speak? What was the point of being a divine vessel if she couldn’t call upon them at her own need?
However, she soon let her hand drop, the woman’s touch against her flesh oddly… nice. It was stirring feelings within her that she was hard put to recognize, a craving so similar to those she felt for the darker joys of life. Was this what others felt, why they paired off and disappeared into the shadows? What a novel thing…
Before she could protest, Akila was then taking her hand and leading it to her breast, squeezing fingers around hers to show her what should be done. This was… nice, too. The warmth, the softness of her flesh as she weighed it in her hand; there was a fluttering in her belly as she mimicked the action the captain took, her thumb brushing over the dusky flesh of a quickly hardening nipple.
Gasping when Akila did the same to her, she felt her own nipples tighten, hardening to peaks that begged for her attention. Even the men she had lain with had not prompted these same reactions, though, then again, she had not lain with them out of curiosity or desire. For her, it had been nothing more than a… business transaction, almost. An exchange of information for the delights of the flesh.
This, though, this was different. There was no exchange in this, only lust, and Xanthippe found herself drawn into it in a way she was hard put to describe. When Akila’s lips met hers, she made no move to stop her, her mouth parting at the insistent kiss. Between the hand teasing at her nipple and the play of lips and tongue against hers, she was nearly overwhelmed, closing her eyes and leaning into it in spite of herself. When the kiss was broken, she almost protested, but that was before the captain was insisting she do it in return.
Her mouth parted again, unsure how she ought to respond before she decided to simply go with it. This was… fun, and Xanthippe rarely allowed herself to indulge in fun. She had already broken so many rules tonight, what did it matter? If there were consequences to be had, she may as well be thoroughly worthy of them.
Leaning forward, she pressed her own kiss to Akila’s lips, hard and fast with no tenderness to the gesture. Her hand curled around the side of her neck to pull her in closer, deepening the kiss and leaving little room for protest. She wanted her to be rough? She wanted to fight for dominance? Fine, this was a game she understood. And it was one she wouldn’t lose.
The hand at Akila’s breast squeezed harder, nails digging into the soft flesh as she bit and tugged at the woman’s lower lip. Having decided she would go along with this, there was little hesitation as she pressed her body to Akila’s, pushing until her back collided with the wall before biting at her lip again, while her free hand curled around the captain’s wrist to hold it captive against the rough grain of the cabin wall.
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Xanthippe followed after the other woman in a sort of daze, feeling as if her body was under some control that wasn’t her own. Was she really about to do this? Would she regret it later? Would she even like it? She posed these questions to the gods themselves, and yet, they remained curiously silent, as if holding their breath in anticipation. Well. Wasn’t that interesting?
Once the door was closed behind them, Akila was lighting a candle, and then was on her again, her hands fiddling with the ties of her clothing. For a moment, Xan raised her own hand as if to stop her, unsure this was the right thing to be doing. Why were the gods being so quiet now? Why was it when she actually needed their advice, they couldn’t be bothered to speak? What was the point of being a divine vessel if she couldn’t call upon them at her own need?
However, she soon let her hand drop, the woman’s touch against her flesh oddly… nice. It was stirring feelings within her that she was hard put to recognize, a craving so similar to those she felt for the darker joys of life. Was this what others felt, why they paired off and disappeared into the shadows? What a novel thing…
Before she could protest, Akila was then taking her hand and leading it to her breast, squeezing fingers around hers to show her what should be done. This was… nice, too. The warmth, the softness of her flesh as she weighed it in her hand; there was a fluttering in her belly as she mimicked the action the captain took, her thumb brushing over the dusky flesh of a quickly hardening nipple.
Gasping when Akila did the same to her, she felt her own nipples tighten, hardening to peaks that begged for her attention. Even the men she had lain with had not prompted these same reactions, though, then again, she had not lain with them out of curiosity or desire. For her, it had been nothing more than a… business transaction, almost. An exchange of information for the delights of the flesh.
This, though, this was different. There was no exchange in this, only lust, and Xanthippe found herself drawn into it in a way she was hard put to describe. When Akila’s lips met hers, she made no move to stop her, her mouth parting at the insistent kiss. Between the hand teasing at her nipple and the play of lips and tongue against hers, she was nearly overwhelmed, closing her eyes and leaning into it in spite of herself. When the kiss was broken, she almost protested, but that was before the captain was insisting she do it in return.
Her mouth parted again, unsure how she ought to respond before she decided to simply go with it. This was… fun, and Xanthippe rarely allowed herself to indulge in fun. She had already broken so many rules tonight, what did it matter? If there were consequences to be had, she may as well be thoroughly worthy of them.
Leaning forward, she pressed her own kiss to Akila’s lips, hard and fast with no tenderness to the gesture. Her hand curled around the side of her neck to pull her in closer, deepening the kiss and leaving little room for protest. She wanted her to be rough? She wanted to fight for dominance? Fine, this was a game she understood. And it was one she wouldn’t lose.
The hand at Akila’s breast squeezed harder, nails digging into the soft flesh as she bit and tugged at the woman’s lower lip. Having decided she would go along with this, there was little hesitation as she pressed her body to Akila’s, pushing until her back collided with the wall before biting at her lip again, while her free hand curled around the captain’s wrist to hold it captive against the rough grain of the cabin wall.
Xanthippe followed after the other woman in a sort of daze, feeling as if her body was under some control that wasn’t her own. Was she really about to do this? Would she regret it later? Would she even like it? She posed these questions to the gods themselves, and yet, they remained curiously silent, as if holding their breath in anticipation. Well. Wasn’t that interesting?
Once the door was closed behind them, Akila was lighting a candle, and then was on her again, her hands fiddling with the ties of her clothing. For a moment, Xan raised her own hand as if to stop her, unsure this was the right thing to be doing. Why were the gods being so quiet now? Why was it when she actually needed their advice, they couldn’t be bothered to speak? What was the point of being a divine vessel if she couldn’t call upon them at her own need?
However, she soon let her hand drop, the woman’s touch against her flesh oddly… nice. It was stirring feelings within her that she was hard put to recognize, a craving so similar to those she felt for the darker joys of life. Was this what others felt, why they paired off and disappeared into the shadows? What a novel thing…
Before she could protest, Akila was then taking her hand and leading it to her breast, squeezing fingers around hers to show her what should be done. This was… nice, too. The warmth, the softness of her flesh as she weighed it in her hand; there was a fluttering in her belly as she mimicked the action the captain took, her thumb brushing over the dusky flesh of a quickly hardening nipple.
Gasping when Akila did the same to her, she felt her own nipples tighten, hardening to peaks that begged for her attention. Even the men she had lain with had not prompted these same reactions, though, then again, she had not lain with them out of curiosity or desire. For her, it had been nothing more than a… business transaction, almost. An exchange of information for the delights of the flesh.
This, though, this was different. There was no exchange in this, only lust, and Xanthippe found herself drawn into it in a way she was hard put to describe. When Akila’s lips met hers, she made no move to stop her, her mouth parting at the insistent kiss. Between the hand teasing at her nipple and the play of lips and tongue against hers, she was nearly overwhelmed, closing her eyes and leaning into it in spite of herself. When the kiss was broken, she almost protested, but that was before the captain was insisting she do it in return.
Her mouth parted again, unsure how she ought to respond before she decided to simply go with it. This was… fun, and Xanthippe rarely allowed herself to indulge in fun. She had already broken so many rules tonight, what did it matter? If there were consequences to be had, she may as well be thoroughly worthy of them.
Leaning forward, she pressed her own kiss to Akila’s lips, hard and fast with no tenderness to the gesture. Her hand curled around the side of her neck to pull her in closer, deepening the kiss and leaving little room for protest. She wanted her to be rough? She wanted to fight for dominance? Fine, this was a game she understood. And it was one she wouldn’t lose.
The hand at Akila’s breast squeezed harder, nails digging into the soft flesh as she bit and tugged at the woman’s lower lip. Having decided she would go along with this, there was little hesitation as she pressed her body to Akila’s, pushing until her back collided with the wall before biting at her lip again, while her free hand curled around the captain’s wrist to hold it captive against the rough grain of the cabin wall.
The woman gasped when her nipples hardened to peaks at Akila’s touch- something that already brought a cocky satisfaction to the pirate. Was she vocal? That just made that so much more fun. Though she was sure the men below deck would be jacking off to the sounds the girls would make- the fucking freaks. But now wasn’t the time to think about them. Now Akila just wanted to think about the girl in front of her- and how red her tight little ass will be once the night was over.
It wasn’t often Akila found herself a woman (even less often right after murdering people mercilessly). Perhaps this was why Akila found herself so excited, her skin almost feeling like it was on fire with how horny she was getting. It had been too long for the pirate, and with a freak that Ophelia had proven to be tonight… Akila wanted to see how it would translate to her bed. And her floor. And against the wall. And whichever fucking surface she could have her.
Such a good kitten. For a girl seemingly unaware of what goes where she certainly was ready to dive right in. Hands already around Akila’s breast lips hungrily against hers. This was a sign of damned good night- and it was already one, to begin with. And soon the kitten would be purring.
Akila felt the roughness of the wall at her back, wrist pinned against it. Nails dug into her breast and she had bitten down on Akila’s lip before opening back up to hungrily get more. A moan escaped Akila’s lips fuck how she wanted this. And as they kissed, the captain couldn’t help but smirk. It seemed both were biters. Let’s see if they end up shedding blood.
Akila’s free hand went to the woman’s hair and she got a fist full, yanking it back so that she could expose her neck. From there, her mouth traveled down her throat, pausing and sucking at her rapid pulse for a moment. But her neck, no matter how long and graceful, wasn’t what was of interest to her. Akila’s hand left her hair to instead go to the woman’s breast, squeezing right back nails digging so deep into her flesh that red streaks rose to her otherwise pale skin. Down and down Akila’s mouth went until it got to her appetizer- Ophelia’s delectable nipple. Hard already to the touch, Akila’s tongue rolled over, flicking it teasingly at first. “Good, kitten.” Akila breathed.
Her other hand twisted and played while her mouth began to suck. The pinned wrist to the wall didn’t even bother to try to escape. Akila didn’t need both hands to make her scream. “Get in that chair, kitten. I’ll show you exactly what goes where.” Akila said, as her fingers left her breast to lightly run down her abdomen hovering just centimeters away for what will soon be Akila’s main course- once she got it dripping.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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The woman gasped when her nipples hardened to peaks at Akila’s touch- something that already brought a cocky satisfaction to the pirate. Was she vocal? That just made that so much more fun. Though she was sure the men below deck would be jacking off to the sounds the girls would make- the fucking freaks. But now wasn’t the time to think about them. Now Akila just wanted to think about the girl in front of her- and how red her tight little ass will be once the night was over.
It wasn’t often Akila found herself a woman (even less often right after murdering people mercilessly). Perhaps this was why Akila found herself so excited, her skin almost feeling like it was on fire with how horny she was getting. It had been too long for the pirate, and with a freak that Ophelia had proven to be tonight… Akila wanted to see how it would translate to her bed. And her floor. And against the wall. And whichever fucking surface she could have her.
Such a good kitten. For a girl seemingly unaware of what goes where she certainly was ready to dive right in. Hands already around Akila’s breast lips hungrily against hers. This was a sign of damned good night- and it was already one, to begin with. And soon the kitten would be purring.
Akila felt the roughness of the wall at her back, wrist pinned against it. Nails dug into her breast and she had bitten down on Akila’s lip before opening back up to hungrily get more. A moan escaped Akila’s lips fuck how she wanted this. And as they kissed, the captain couldn’t help but smirk. It seemed both were biters. Let’s see if they end up shedding blood.
Akila’s free hand went to the woman’s hair and she got a fist full, yanking it back so that she could expose her neck. From there, her mouth traveled down her throat, pausing and sucking at her rapid pulse for a moment. But her neck, no matter how long and graceful, wasn’t what was of interest to her. Akila’s hand left her hair to instead go to the woman’s breast, squeezing right back nails digging so deep into her flesh that red streaks rose to her otherwise pale skin. Down and down Akila’s mouth went until it got to her appetizer- Ophelia’s delectable nipple. Hard already to the touch, Akila’s tongue rolled over, flicking it teasingly at first. “Good, kitten.” Akila breathed.
Her other hand twisted and played while her mouth began to suck. The pinned wrist to the wall didn’t even bother to try to escape. Akila didn’t need both hands to make her scream. “Get in that chair, kitten. I’ll show you exactly what goes where.” Akila said, as her fingers left her breast to lightly run down her abdomen hovering just centimeters away for what will soon be Akila’s main course- once she got it dripping.
The woman gasped when her nipples hardened to peaks at Akila’s touch- something that already brought a cocky satisfaction to the pirate. Was she vocal? That just made that so much more fun. Though she was sure the men below deck would be jacking off to the sounds the girls would make- the fucking freaks. But now wasn’t the time to think about them. Now Akila just wanted to think about the girl in front of her- and how red her tight little ass will be once the night was over.
It wasn’t often Akila found herself a woman (even less often right after murdering people mercilessly). Perhaps this was why Akila found herself so excited, her skin almost feeling like it was on fire with how horny she was getting. It had been too long for the pirate, and with a freak that Ophelia had proven to be tonight… Akila wanted to see how it would translate to her bed. And her floor. And against the wall. And whichever fucking surface she could have her.
Such a good kitten. For a girl seemingly unaware of what goes where she certainly was ready to dive right in. Hands already around Akila’s breast lips hungrily against hers. This was a sign of damned good night- and it was already one, to begin with. And soon the kitten would be purring.
Akila felt the roughness of the wall at her back, wrist pinned against it. Nails dug into her breast and she had bitten down on Akila’s lip before opening back up to hungrily get more. A moan escaped Akila’s lips fuck how she wanted this. And as they kissed, the captain couldn’t help but smirk. It seemed both were biters. Let’s see if they end up shedding blood.
Akila’s free hand went to the woman’s hair and she got a fist full, yanking it back so that she could expose her neck. From there, her mouth traveled down her throat, pausing and sucking at her rapid pulse for a moment. But her neck, no matter how long and graceful, wasn’t what was of interest to her. Akila’s hand left her hair to instead go to the woman’s breast, squeezing right back nails digging so deep into her flesh that red streaks rose to her otherwise pale skin. Down and down Akila’s mouth went until it got to her appetizer- Ophelia’s delectable nipple. Hard already to the touch, Akila’s tongue rolled over, flicking it teasingly at first. “Good, kitten.” Akila breathed.
Her other hand twisted and played while her mouth began to suck. The pinned wrist to the wall didn’t even bother to try to escape. Akila didn’t need both hands to make her scream. “Get in that chair, kitten. I’ll show you exactly what goes where.” Akila said, as her fingers left her breast to lightly run down her abdomen hovering just centimeters away for what will soon be Akila’s main course- once she got it dripping.
A sharp inhale as her head was tugged back, the other woman’s mouth travelling along her throat in a way that left gooseflesh in its wake. She hissed as nails dug into her flesh, her own hand reach to cover hers and encourage her to go further. Akila was awakening things in Xan she could scarce comprehend, and each touch of her mouth, each brush of her hand was only bringing them further to life. Fire seemed to blaze in the pit of her belly as the captain’s mouth brushed warm and wet over her nipple, a low sound of pleasure soon following behind. She hadn’t even known she could feel such pleasure from that part of her body, making her wonder what else she had been missing out on while she was focused on other aspects of her life.
She could understand now why so many people got into trouble over this sort of thing—it was a heady feeling, to be touched in such an intimate way. No wonder so many seemed to spend their lives chasing that rush, and for the first time, Xanthippe could empathize. It was not something she could see herself falling into often, but here and now? She was only too happy to indulge the curious desire that seemed to have taken her over.
Warmth followed Akila’s fingertips, the fire in Xan’s stomach flaring to scorch down through her veins as the hand at her wrist reached to tangle into her hair instead. Another touch fluttered down her stomach, closer and closer to the velvety heat her thighs protected. For a moment, Xan hesitated as she hovered there, unsure whether to encourage her further or push her away, but she had already made her decision. She wasn’t about to unmake it now.
The promise of more had Xanthippe surprisingly complacent, pupils dilated and cheeks flushed as she looked back at Akila. ‘Get in that chair, kitten. I’ll show you exactly what goes where.’ A shiver ran subtly across her skin at that before she moved to the chair she indicated, halfway in a daze. Quickly, she tugged the other woman back toward her, unwilling to have her hands free for too long. Bringing Akila’s lips up to hers, she kissed her again, fingers winding into her hair once more with a cruel tug.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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A sharp inhale as her head was tugged back, the other woman’s mouth travelling along her throat in a way that left gooseflesh in its wake. She hissed as nails dug into her flesh, her own hand reach to cover hers and encourage her to go further. Akila was awakening things in Xan she could scarce comprehend, and each touch of her mouth, each brush of her hand was only bringing them further to life. Fire seemed to blaze in the pit of her belly as the captain’s mouth brushed warm and wet over her nipple, a low sound of pleasure soon following behind. She hadn’t even known she could feel such pleasure from that part of her body, making her wonder what else she had been missing out on while she was focused on other aspects of her life.
She could understand now why so many people got into trouble over this sort of thing—it was a heady feeling, to be touched in such an intimate way. No wonder so many seemed to spend their lives chasing that rush, and for the first time, Xanthippe could empathize. It was not something she could see herself falling into often, but here and now? She was only too happy to indulge the curious desire that seemed to have taken her over.
Warmth followed Akila’s fingertips, the fire in Xan’s stomach flaring to scorch down through her veins as the hand at her wrist reached to tangle into her hair instead. Another touch fluttered down her stomach, closer and closer to the velvety heat her thighs protected. For a moment, Xan hesitated as she hovered there, unsure whether to encourage her further or push her away, but she had already made her decision. She wasn’t about to unmake it now.
The promise of more had Xanthippe surprisingly complacent, pupils dilated and cheeks flushed as she looked back at Akila. ‘Get in that chair, kitten. I’ll show you exactly what goes where.’ A shiver ran subtly across her skin at that before she moved to the chair she indicated, halfway in a daze. Quickly, she tugged the other woman back toward her, unwilling to have her hands free for too long. Bringing Akila’s lips up to hers, she kissed her again, fingers winding into her hair once more with a cruel tug.
A sharp inhale as her head was tugged back, the other woman’s mouth travelling along her throat in a way that left gooseflesh in its wake. She hissed as nails dug into her flesh, her own hand reach to cover hers and encourage her to go further. Akila was awakening things in Xan she could scarce comprehend, and each touch of her mouth, each brush of her hand was only bringing them further to life. Fire seemed to blaze in the pit of her belly as the captain’s mouth brushed warm and wet over her nipple, a low sound of pleasure soon following behind. She hadn’t even known she could feel such pleasure from that part of her body, making her wonder what else she had been missing out on while she was focused on other aspects of her life.
She could understand now why so many people got into trouble over this sort of thing—it was a heady feeling, to be touched in such an intimate way. No wonder so many seemed to spend their lives chasing that rush, and for the first time, Xanthippe could empathize. It was not something she could see herself falling into often, but here and now? She was only too happy to indulge the curious desire that seemed to have taken her over.
Warmth followed Akila’s fingertips, the fire in Xan’s stomach flaring to scorch down through her veins as the hand at her wrist reached to tangle into her hair instead. Another touch fluttered down her stomach, closer and closer to the velvety heat her thighs protected. For a moment, Xan hesitated as she hovered there, unsure whether to encourage her further or push her away, but she had already made her decision. She wasn’t about to unmake it now.
The promise of more had Xanthippe surprisingly complacent, pupils dilated and cheeks flushed as she looked back at Akila. ‘Get in that chair, kitten. I’ll show you exactly what goes where.’ A shiver ran subtly across her skin at that before she moved to the chair she indicated, halfway in a daze. Quickly, she tugged the other woman back toward her, unwilling to have her hands free for too long. Bringing Akila’s lips up to hers, she kissed her again, fingers winding into her hair once more with a cruel tug.
Such a good listener this one was. Akila would be tempted to keep her if it wasn’t for the fact that she could snap and try to kill her crew. That and she was a Greek. Still, Akila could appreciate the obedience. Just like she could appreciate the woman’s breast and how warm and plump they were, and her white little ass that was just begging to be grabbed and groped. The woman was a walking fucking tease.
But for tonight she was her tease, and Akila was very possessive over what was her’s. With one last violent pull that brought a moan to the pirate’s lips, the kitten listened and stumbled her was to her chair. There, Akila gave her an almost cheshire-like grin as she sauntered over there. Akila’s dark orbs was clouded with lust.
Now was the time to play. Her fingers trailed down the center of her chest, down her stomach. They moved between the girl’s toned thighs. Both hands rubbed the inside of them, before Akila split them apart, and she finally reached her goal. “These,” She breathed, “go here.” Finally they found the woman’s heat, already wet from the excitement and anticipation. Her thumb rubbed over the top of it, where her forefinger and middlefinger made their way inside. It was slow at first, a teasing dip in. But then Akila started to massage it, the two fingers curling on the inside, as her thumb continued to move back and forth.
“And this,” Akila lowered herself. Where her fingers once trailed downward now her tongue could be found, following the ghost trail she had left previously. The flat of it went down, past the center of her chest, past her stomach, until the pirate was on her knees facing her hand as it moved in and out of the girl. “Goes here too.”
A lick, a nibble, a taste, Akila was still a tease as her tongue moved foward. Akila was selfish in many ways, but she wasn’t a selfish lover. She was experienced, and she was hungry for more. Her tongue flicked where thumb once was, and her lips curled in a smirk.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Such a good listener this one was. Akila would be tempted to keep her if it wasn’t for the fact that she could snap and try to kill her crew. That and she was a Greek. Still, Akila could appreciate the obedience. Just like she could appreciate the woman’s breast and how warm and plump they were, and her white little ass that was just begging to be grabbed and groped. The woman was a walking fucking tease.
But for tonight she was her tease, and Akila was very possessive over what was her’s. With one last violent pull that brought a moan to the pirate’s lips, the kitten listened and stumbled her was to her chair. There, Akila gave her an almost cheshire-like grin as she sauntered over there. Akila’s dark orbs was clouded with lust.
Now was the time to play. Her fingers trailed down the center of her chest, down her stomach. They moved between the girl’s toned thighs. Both hands rubbed the inside of them, before Akila split them apart, and she finally reached her goal. “These,” She breathed, “go here.” Finally they found the woman’s heat, already wet from the excitement and anticipation. Her thumb rubbed over the top of it, where her forefinger and middlefinger made their way inside. It was slow at first, a teasing dip in. But then Akila started to massage it, the two fingers curling on the inside, as her thumb continued to move back and forth.
“And this,” Akila lowered herself. Where her fingers once trailed downward now her tongue could be found, following the ghost trail she had left previously. The flat of it went down, past the center of her chest, past her stomach, until the pirate was on her knees facing her hand as it moved in and out of the girl. “Goes here too.”
A lick, a nibble, a taste, Akila was still a tease as her tongue moved foward. Akila was selfish in many ways, but she wasn’t a selfish lover. She was experienced, and she was hungry for more. Her tongue flicked where thumb once was, and her lips curled in a smirk.
Such a good listener this one was. Akila would be tempted to keep her if it wasn’t for the fact that she could snap and try to kill her crew. That and she was a Greek. Still, Akila could appreciate the obedience. Just like she could appreciate the woman’s breast and how warm and plump they were, and her white little ass that was just begging to be grabbed and groped. The woman was a walking fucking tease.
But for tonight she was her tease, and Akila was very possessive over what was her’s. With one last violent pull that brought a moan to the pirate’s lips, the kitten listened and stumbled her was to her chair. There, Akila gave her an almost cheshire-like grin as she sauntered over there. Akila’s dark orbs was clouded with lust.
Now was the time to play. Her fingers trailed down the center of her chest, down her stomach. They moved between the girl’s toned thighs. Both hands rubbed the inside of them, before Akila split them apart, and she finally reached her goal. “These,” She breathed, “go here.” Finally they found the woman’s heat, already wet from the excitement and anticipation. Her thumb rubbed over the top of it, where her forefinger and middlefinger made their way inside. It was slow at first, a teasing dip in. But then Akila started to massage it, the two fingers curling on the inside, as her thumb continued to move back and forth.
“And this,” Akila lowered herself. Where her fingers once trailed downward now her tongue could be found, following the ghost trail she had left previously. The flat of it went down, past the center of her chest, past her stomach, until the pirate was on her knees facing her hand as it moved in and out of the girl. “Goes here too.”
A lick, a nibble, a taste, Akila was still a tease as her tongue moved foward. Akila was selfish in many ways, but she wasn’t a selfish lover. She was experienced, and she was hungry for more. Her tongue flicked where thumb once was, and her lips curled in a smirk.
Pupils dilated as she watched Akila roam down her body, hands and mouth warm along her skin as she carved such a sensuous trail. Every bit of Xan’s body was on high alert, hyper sensitive to each touch the woman bestowed on her. She shivered, but she wasn’t cold, and she was hard put to understand exactly what it was she was feeling in that moment.
She was practically shaking by the time the other woman made it between her legs, her breath coming quick as sweat started to gather along her brow. This felt… almost what it felt like in a fight. A rush of adrenaline, arousal, a sense of euphoria… yet it was still somehow different. Sharper. Blazing. She couldn’t have described it if she tried, but all she knew was that she wanted more. This was… gods, there were no words.
When Akila’s fingers found their way inside of her, Xanthippe was gasping aloud, the velvety walls clenching tight around the invading digits. Even the men she’d bedded had never made her feel like this, and she wondered what about it was so distinctly different. Was it her motivation? The bloodshed that came before? Or just the simple fact that Akila was a woman, and this was something so outside of the bounds of her normal reality?
Whatever it was, the young woman found herself reveling in it, the moans that spilled from her lips surprising even herself. As Akila’s mouth went down to join her fingers, her moans only got that much louder, head thrown back as her thighs clenched around the woman’s head. What in all the gods’ names was this? And why had she never tried it before?
The forbidden fruit tastes that much sweeter.
Xanthippe did not respond; this was no time for the gods to be speaking in her head. They did not need to be present for this, and so she pointedly ignored them, choosing instead to keep her focus firmly on the here and now. Her fingers tangled in her partner’s hair, urging her on as she once more clenched around Akila’s fingers. The teasing swipes of her tongue had pleas resting on the tip of her tongue, though this… this she could not imagine giving her. When did Xanthippe ever beg for anything? No, her wordless response was enough, body arching as she gave over to the pleasure the pirate offered.
“My name is Xanthippe,” she muttered breathlessly as she looked down at Akila. “If you say my name tonight… I want it to be my real one.”
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Pupils dilated as she watched Akila roam down her body, hands and mouth warm along her skin as she carved such a sensuous trail. Every bit of Xan’s body was on high alert, hyper sensitive to each touch the woman bestowed on her. She shivered, but she wasn’t cold, and she was hard put to understand exactly what it was she was feeling in that moment.
She was practically shaking by the time the other woman made it between her legs, her breath coming quick as sweat started to gather along her brow. This felt… almost what it felt like in a fight. A rush of adrenaline, arousal, a sense of euphoria… yet it was still somehow different. Sharper. Blazing. She couldn’t have described it if she tried, but all she knew was that she wanted more. This was… gods, there were no words.
When Akila’s fingers found their way inside of her, Xanthippe was gasping aloud, the velvety walls clenching tight around the invading digits. Even the men she’d bedded had never made her feel like this, and she wondered what about it was so distinctly different. Was it her motivation? The bloodshed that came before? Or just the simple fact that Akila was a woman, and this was something so outside of the bounds of her normal reality?
Whatever it was, the young woman found herself reveling in it, the moans that spilled from her lips surprising even herself. As Akila’s mouth went down to join her fingers, her moans only got that much louder, head thrown back as her thighs clenched around the woman’s head. What in all the gods’ names was this? And why had she never tried it before?
The forbidden fruit tastes that much sweeter.
Xanthippe did not respond; this was no time for the gods to be speaking in her head. They did not need to be present for this, and so she pointedly ignored them, choosing instead to keep her focus firmly on the here and now. Her fingers tangled in her partner’s hair, urging her on as she once more clenched around Akila’s fingers. The teasing swipes of her tongue had pleas resting on the tip of her tongue, though this… this she could not imagine giving her. When did Xanthippe ever beg for anything? No, her wordless response was enough, body arching as she gave over to the pleasure the pirate offered.
“My name is Xanthippe,” she muttered breathlessly as she looked down at Akila. “If you say my name tonight… I want it to be my real one.”
Pupils dilated as she watched Akila roam down her body, hands and mouth warm along her skin as she carved such a sensuous trail. Every bit of Xan’s body was on high alert, hyper sensitive to each touch the woman bestowed on her. She shivered, but she wasn’t cold, and she was hard put to understand exactly what it was she was feeling in that moment.
She was practically shaking by the time the other woman made it between her legs, her breath coming quick as sweat started to gather along her brow. This felt… almost what it felt like in a fight. A rush of adrenaline, arousal, a sense of euphoria… yet it was still somehow different. Sharper. Blazing. She couldn’t have described it if she tried, but all she knew was that she wanted more. This was… gods, there were no words.
When Akila’s fingers found their way inside of her, Xanthippe was gasping aloud, the velvety walls clenching tight around the invading digits. Even the men she’d bedded had never made her feel like this, and she wondered what about it was so distinctly different. Was it her motivation? The bloodshed that came before? Or just the simple fact that Akila was a woman, and this was something so outside of the bounds of her normal reality?
Whatever it was, the young woman found herself reveling in it, the moans that spilled from her lips surprising even herself. As Akila’s mouth went down to join her fingers, her moans only got that much louder, head thrown back as her thighs clenched around the woman’s head. What in all the gods’ names was this? And why had she never tried it before?
The forbidden fruit tastes that much sweeter.
Xanthippe did not respond; this was no time for the gods to be speaking in her head. They did not need to be present for this, and so she pointedly ignored them, choosing instead to keep her focus firmly on the here and now. Her fingers tangled in her partner’s hair, urging her on as she once more clenched around Akila’s fingers. The teasing swipes of her tongue had pleas resting on the tip of her tongue, though this… this she could not imagine giving her. When did Xanthippe ever beg for anything? No, her wordless response was enough, body arching as she gave over to the pleasure the pirate offered.
“My name is Xanthippe,” she muttered breathlessly as she looked down at Akila. “If you say my name tonight… I want it to be my real one.”
