Archive | August 17, 2012

Coffee Break, a story of the Black House for the May Giraffe Call (@Rix_Scaedu)

From [personal profile] rix_scaedu‘s commissioned prompt. This comes directly in order with the rest of the Black House story (see tag), the same day as First Day of Work.

Content warnings: d/s and sexual content.

If her Master gave her a reference when her time with him was through, Pretty/Yaminah would have more than earned it. Being his executive assistant was an exhausting and exhaustive position, as much so, if not more, than any position she’d taken for him in his private rooms. Doing it backwards and in heels, the bones of her corset and the tightness of her skirt never letting her forget who she was, that almost made it easier. At least the armor and the prison of her suit kept her upright, never faltering, never flinching. She needed that.

Her Kraken, her Master, treasured her, and, even if she had not arrived in the same car as him, that was quickly apparent to all others in the office. That, of course, came with at least three flavors of jealousy from all sides: those who wanted to be in her Master’s bed (or had been), those who would not go that far but envied her the status it clearly gave her (without understanding, of course, what it took her to earn it) and wanted the Master’s eye for more professional pursuits, and those who envied her Master because he had her.

“Enjoy it while it lasts.” Lydia from Accounts Receivable was a lovely, svelte woman whose beauty was entirely covered by her poison attitude. “He gets bored quickly.”

And she would still be his, until her two years had passed. Yaminah smiled at Linda and thanked her for the advice.

“Does he put you up in that mansion of his, or is he pretending to be virtuous and paying for an apartment?” That was Greg in Legal, who was still very young and very eager. Yaminah leaned close to his ear, knowing that gave him full view of her cleavage.

“I will pretend you did not ask that question, and not tell Mr. Krake you’re asking about his personal life, how’s that?”

The bobbing of his Adam’s apple was something to behold. “Uh…”

“But I need help with this contract. Something smells fishy about it.”

“Fishy?” He found footing, and it was in a genteel smirk. “Is that the legal term?” Her cleavage was still at eye level though, both tempting him and reminding him that he’d overstepped. He looked over the contract, and found the fishiness she’d been worried about.

“It’s a pity he resorts to nepotism instead of hiring internally. Still, welcome to the company.” One look at Carrie in Marketing told Yaminah/Pretty why she wasn’t the Master’s assistant. She was prettier than Pretty, dressed much the same (although Pretty doubted there was steel surrounding her; she didn’t need it. Her spine was solid iron), even made up much the same, as if the Master had been taunting her by dressing his assistant, and perhaps he had.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Carrie, it was clear, was a control freak. “Please let me know if I can assist you in any manner.” The Master might enjoy taking a control freak to bed, but she served him better being unbroken, in the position she currently held.

She would have said, or thought, that dealing with people was even harder than being Mr. Krake’s assistant, except that dealing with people was why he had brought her on. So she smiled at everyone, sweetheart or jerk or miserable waste of space, and spent a few minutes socializing with every person she was sent to speak with.

Her employer, more than any before him, understood what she could do, and what she needed. He wouldn’t expect miracles until he’d given her the tools to perform them; the tool she needed most was to know people, so he made sure that she spent her first morning on the job getting to know as many of his employees as possible.

After her third time of being nearly directly called a slut and her fourth inappropriate touch, Yaminah/Pretty was getting a bit sick of knowing people. She kept it from her face while she walked back to Mr. Krake’s office, her chin high, her smile warm and friendly. Only when his door was closed did she allow herself to sag at all.

He took one look and knew. “I believe it’s time for a coffee break. Lock the door, Pretty Girl. I have no appointments for the next twenty minutes, is that correct?”

She glanced at his schedule for the look of the thing, although she already had today’s itinerary memorized. “Twenty-five, sir.” His office door locked with a double deadbolt. Nobody was getting in without breaking the door down. The windows, she had noted earlier, were curtained and mirrored as well. They were as private here as they were in his suite.

“Very good.” He nodded at her in approval. “Now kneel, lovely thing. “

The order was a shock to her system. She knelt, eyes half-closing chin up, throat with its tiny chain bared. “Sir?”

“This is your coffee break, Pretty Girl. This is, as well, my break. I’d say we’d both earned it, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Very, very good, Pretty. Take that jacket off, and the blouse. We’ll leave the rest on; this is just a break, after all.”

Her fingers fumbled on the first button, but by the third, she was moving smoothly again; she was Pretty again, and her goal in life was simply to please her master.

By the time she had the clothing off – he took shirt and jacket from her and draped them over a chair – he had his pants unbuttoned and down. “That’s my pretty girl. Hands at the small of your back. Perfect posture, my treasure, just like that.”

Just like that. She could do it, just like this, just like he wanted. “Yes, Master.”

“I love the way you sound when you say that. That’s my girl. Now, I believe you know what to do with this.”

She smiled, because he was smiling. “Yes, my Master. Of course I do.”

“Good girl. Show me.”

She did, putting her all in to it, keeping her posture perfect, her back straight, her hands clasped behind her back. He tasted, as he always did, clean, fresh, with the faintest suggestion of the sea. He smelled like himself, the sweetest scent she had ever known.

Her heels left small imprints in her ass, even through the skirt. The corset held her perfectly straight, and held her breath to small careful rhythms. The skirt held her knees close together, and the pose gave her no room to deal with the warmth between her legs. She had no concerns. He would give her release when he wanted her to have it.

She took him in, using every trick that he had taught her, and every trick she’d learned before him. She wanted his pleasure to be perfect. She wanted him to be perfectly pleased with her.

“That’s it. That’s it, lovely.” His groans were the reward she’d been asking for. “That’s it, yes. Yes. Perfect, Pretty.”

When he helped her to her feet, he was wearing a broader smile than she remembered seeing ever before. “You are truly a treasure, Pretty Girl.” His thumb brushed across her lip and chin, wiping off a small smear of his seed. “Did you enjoy your coffee break?”

The warmth between her legs was nearly unbearable. “Yes, Master.” And she was, as he’d known she’d be, relaxed and confident once again.

“Good girl. Go get us each a coffee, and we’ll talk about the Martinez meeting.”

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August Giraffe Call: Fuzzy Adventures and Quests

The call for prompts is now OPEN!

I am now taking prompts on the themes of Fuzzy (and/or) Adventures & Quests. Leave one or many prompts, and I will write (over the next month) at least one microfic (150-500 words) to each prompter (prompts may be combined)

Prompts can be related to one of my extant settings (See my landing page-landing page) or they can be for something completely different.

Prompting is free! But Donations are always welcome.

If you have donated, I will write to one extra prompt of yours.

In addition, for each $5 you donate, I will write an additional 500 words to the prompt(s) of your choice.

If I get two new prompters or one new donator, I will write a setting piece (setting chosen by poll) explaining something about the prompts.

At $30 in donations, T & I will get take-out!

At $40 in donations, I will post an additional 1000-2000-word fic on the subject of the audience’s choice.

At $50, anyone who donated $7.50 or more will have a copy of “Alder by Post” mailed to them if they wish

At $70, I will write two extra 500-word continuations – chosen by prompters picked by random number generator

At $100, I will write three extra 500-word continuations – chosen by prompters picked by random number generator

At $130, I will record a podcast of an audience-choice story and post it for everyone to Listen to.

For more about the Rabbit Safari, click here

For more information on Giraffe Calls, see the landing page.

Donate below<

I also take payment by Dwolla

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The Rabbit Safari

This Autumn’s goal for Giraffe Call monies is A Rabbit Safari!

Here’s a sheet. And a sheet with Theocracy.

My grandmother gave me those sheets when my parents built their house; I was 5. That makes them thirty-one years old. And they’re in bad shape, but I love them.

My mother recently brought down my childhood bed, which now lives in the upstairs as a guest bed. Before it was my childhood bed, it was my uncle’s bed. So I’d like something that reminds me of my childhood sheets on the bed. Enter Spoonflower, to have new pillowcases printed from the old pattern.

The goal for the room re-do is $250.

At $45, I’ll have fabric printed. I’ll post two pictures of the kittens being adorable in the guest room I’m trying to renovate.

When it reaches $70, I’ll get sheets to coordinate. I’ll post more kitten pictures. 😉

$100 lets me add pretty blankets and bunny pillows. I’ll post two more pictures of reader’s choice, anything house-related.

$125 gets me to a nice matching table lamp.

At this level, anyone who donated $20 or more can request a bunny sachet, tiny stuffed knit bunny, or another bunny-related solid item mailed, or an additional 500-word story which will involve a bunny in some manner.

An additional $125, bringing me to $250, I can put a rug over the hideous linoleum.

When I get there, I will post an additional 2500-word story which will in some way involve bunnies.

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Bowen’s Summer Continued

This is a continuation of The July Linkback Story by [personal profile] imaginaryfiend‘s request.
It wasn’t that far to Addergoole. It had seemed farther, on the way home, but then again, on the way home, he’d ridden in silence. Phelen and Rozen spent the ride cracking inappropriate jokes, Baram laughing along and sometimes grunting in a word or two. And, in something that was new, they talked to him, too. Included him.

Included him in everything except an explanation of what was going on. That, Rozen was keeping close to his chest. “You’ll see,” is all he’d say on that matter – and Bowen noted that, in their rather cramped motel room that night, they all made sure he slept in the middle.

If he’d wanted to get away, that wouldn’t really have stopped him. He was pretty sure they all knew it, too. He was tempted to prove it, to show them that’s Aggie’s little sheep bitch… but he decided to stay, to show them that he wasn’t afraid. He was cy’Fridmar, after all, like them.

And then they were driving back into the school where he’d been held captive for a year, and nothing could have stopped him from panicking and clawing at the door, wondering why it suddenly wouldn’t let him out. It was only when Rozen stopped the car that he realized what he’d been doing, and sat back in his seat, embarrassed.

Rozen and Baram said nothing. It was Phelen, a puddle of black shadows in the back seat, who just nodded, like he understood. “Breathe. And remember that it didn’t beat you. The school did its best to fuck you up, but in the end, you won.”

It was a nice pretend game, but Bowen knew the truth. His cheeks flushed. “It’s not like I got out on my own.”

“People don’t get out of being Kept on their own.” Rozen’s rumble sounded amused. “It’s the whole idea.”

What would you know? He wasn’t suicidal, so he didn’t snap at Rozen. Again, it was Phelen who nodded, like he was reading his mind. He might be, for all Bowen knew.

“Just because we didn’t get stuck under the collar doesn’t mean we don’t have some idea what it’s like. You did what you had to, and you survived.”

“But it’s good to remember who helps you out.” Rozen twisted to pin Bowen with a glance.

He found he was squirming. “I helped her with Aggie, didn’t I? I owed her, so I made it right.”

“You did?” Rozen turned back to the road, but Bowen thought he sounded surprised. “Hunh. Good for you. But did you ever say thank you?”

Bowen wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box, but the way Rozen sounded, he thought there was more going on here than his debt. “I don’t think I did,” he admitted. “Is that where we’re going? Why, I mean?”

“Yeah.” He grunted softly. “First stop on the trip, at least. You’re going to thank the girl for what she did.” He drove in silence for a while, through the wheatfields that had led to so much misery. “It took guts to do what she did. Most people wouldn’t go up against an upperclassmen, especially one with a powerful crew.”

Bowen hadn’t thought about it quite like that before. “I guess it did. Hunh.” He stared at the wheat. “Why would she do that?”

Next to him, Phelen laughed. “You’d have to ask her, but I can bet you I know the answer already.”

It was Baram who mumbled out an answer. “She thought it was right.”

What Was Right (LJ)

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Character Development Meme: Kendrew, Shang, Eluned, Pania

52 19 Days To 52 Weeks

For the 52 days leading up to the 52 weeks of Addergoole: Year 9, I will be posting something Addergoole-related every day.

Today: parts of a character development meme!

16.) Are there any blood relatives that your character is particularly close with, besides the immediate ones? Cousins, Uncles, Grandfathers, Aunts, et cetera. Are there any others that your character practically considers a blood relative?

Kendrew was raised by his father and his father’s partner, a man he considers to be a second father to him. He doesn’t know his mother at all, and frankly always assumed he was a sperm-donation surrogate pregnancy sort of thing (he wasn’t, but there was some Hugr and some Ambrus involved in his conception).

In addition to his fathers, he lived near his father’s parents, and was particularly close with his grandfather Joe, and with his father’s youngest sister Amelia. She acted as a mother figure to him when he was younger, and as a buddy and confidant as he got older.

His fathers have a younger daughter as well, Brynja, but the age difference is great enough that Kendrew finds her an annoyance, rather than a close relative.

He already has a son, but his fathers don’t know about that.

17.) What’s your character’s desk/workspace look like? Are they neat or messy?

Shang’s organizational style is “piles;” his piles are very tidy, but to an unaware observer, it looks like, well, piles of papers (and other things) all over his desk. His first week of Addergoole, he actually found the furniture storeroom to requisition a second desk, to give him more room to organize things. He has piles – often more than one – for each class.

His clothes, similarly, are sorted in hampers/milkcrates/coat trees.

18.) Is your character a good cook? What’s their favorite recipe, whether they’re good or not? (Microwave mac-and-cheese applies.)

Luna knows three dishes when she comes to Addergoole – tuna-noodle casserole, rum cake, and chicken pot pie. She likes making these three quite a bit, though, and once she starts paying attention, as she’s encouraged to, she comes to realize that there’s building-out from all three of those recipes to be done, to more varied dishes.

19.) What’s your character’s preferred means of travel?

Adie likes trains. She really, really likes trains. On the other hand, she really, really, really hates airplanes, which explains why she’s a pale and nauseous mess when Wylie meets her at the airport.

She likes cars, too, enough to know the classics, but her real fascination is with trains. She collects accurate model trains but dreams of some day owning her own rail car, or maybe even her own rail line. She doesn’t know how to drive, yet, and really has no interest in learning.

These are all new characters to Ag Year 9; tonight, you can ask them anything.

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Countdown to Addergoole Year 9: Jovanna and Aeowyn

52 19 Days To 52 Weeks

For the 52 days leading up to the 52 weeks of Addergoole: Year 9, I will be posting something Addergoole-related every day.

Today I present Jovanna and Aeowyn, best known so far as Ahouva’s friends.

Jovanna is a tall, slender girl with a dancer’s body, tight-muscled and lean, with hardly any chest to speak of; she camouflages this with ruffled shirts. She likes ruffles all around, tiered skirts and flounced hems and sleeves.

Her skin is deep brown, her hair long, curly, and prone to frizzing. Her eyes are silver-grey, and her makeup is well-done but often a bit heavy-handed. She’s a follower, socially, quiet unless spoken to and often a wall-flower.

Aeowyn is a leader to Jovanna’s follower, outgoing and sharp-tongued. Short, tiny, and blonde (Addergoole has a surplus of tiny blondes!) Her hair is shoulder-length and smooth platinum blonde; she has bright blue eyes and pale skin. She and Jovanna commiserate over their lack of noticeable chests.

She likes whatever’s in fashion for clothes, but prefers things that are boyish – pants rather than skirts, button-down shirts. Hats. Aeowyn loves hats.

Neither have innate powers determined yet. Jovanna’s Change is pika-related; Aeowyn’s is snake-related

They appear in the following stories:
Three-Way Continued

And Today, You can ask them any question you want!

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