Does This Count As a Tide Challenge? (Sayuri) (FB) (M Rating)

The ocean is a vast and life filled place.

It was something that Valen was always drawn to at times when things were quiet. The early morning dawn  slowly cresting over the waves was a quiet greeting to the day in a vast array of colors. He sat upon the beach, the ocean tide crashing closer and closer as the tide came in. In a little while he himself would be sitting in it although that did not matter to him. He sat, legs crossed, hands in his lap as he watched the sun and tide both. The tide wouldn't come in higher enough to fully submerge him, even when sitting so he wasn't worried about drowning where he couldn't get to shore. He didn't have some aversion to getting wet and besides, leaving just because you were going to get soaked was a poor excuse in his crimson eyes.

He wore his black pants, but otherwise nothing else. Lacking his jacket like cloak and his boots. There wasn't a need for either to get wet when they didn't need to and both were further up near a tree safely out of the reach of the tides high point when it eventually came in fully. He kept his pants though. It was a strange thing people had in regards to modesty. Growing up no one had ever cared about such things however here offending people seemed far too easy. Especially, evidently, when one went out in ones bare skin. It was, odd to him. Still odd didn't mean he couldn't simply where pants and so he kept them on, never knowing who might be about to be offended. Without a his jacket though many would choose not to come near him. Given the dozens was brands inset into his skin along his back. He knew what they looked like, though he couldn't see them. Vividly in his mind he remembered each brand, the glowing iron of the depiction that would be permanently emblazoned upon his skin. Each one was etched into his memory and he doubted he would ever forget them.

They made his back a gruesome sight he knew, but that didn't matter to the young man. He could nothing about it and he wasn't sure he would if he could. They were proof that he had been through hell. Of course, he had never realized it himself. Did that make it count less? Probably, if you went through hell but didn't know you were supposed to be suffering, did that invalidate the suffering? Valen didn't know, and he didn't care. One more brand, one not on his back, one far more recent, could be seen on the inside of his wrist. A circle within a diamond, and it was the sigil of the last captain that had owned him. It was the only one on his body he could actually see, and the scarred shape of burnt in flesh greeted his eyes as it always dd. Looking back up, he would take in the view of the sun and see again, the incoming water almost reaching him as it came in.

Sayuri had been up all night, not an unusual thing for her as she preferred the solitude and quiet of the nighttime hours. She had been experimenting with Hyoton in the ocean, attempting to create specific ice formations under the water. She had been moderately successful but she knew it would take more practice to figure out exactly how to utilize the technique to full effectiveness.

While she had been swimming around she had opted to be without clothing for practical purposes, swimming in a gown required more strength than she had. The chill of the water didn’t bother her anyway, so clothing would have just been for aesthetics. She did know that she couldn’t exactly run around the city naked so as the sun began to rise she would wave a hand and a full gown made of sparkling white hyoton would appear as she rose from the waves. Her long blonde hair clung to her as she broke the surface but with a breeze from the open waters it didn’t take long until the sodden hair lifted and began to dry in the morning air.

‘Thank you for choosing to breathe this time, my Queen.’

‘Anything for you. As long as you don’t lock me away again.’

‘I would never, my Queen.’

Sayuri would laugh aloud at the conversation in her mind. She wasn’t angry with Jareth, but she didn’t believe that he would never lock her away again, and in truth she didn’t actually mind. It was a pleasant reprieve from the stress of whatever situation she happened to be in and had the added benefit of her being restrained by someone she adored.

She was so caught up in the happenings within her mind that she almost didn’t notice that anyone else was there and let out a surprised ‘Oh’ when she noticed the man sitting just out of reach of the waves on the beach. Her eyesight wasn’t the best, but as the first rays of light made an appearance on the horizon she was able to make out dark hair and what looked like scars on the man’s back. Intrigued, she would move closer until she could peer down at the man’s back, and take in the full glory of the scars she saw there. Assuming he allowed her that close she would speak quietly to him. “Those are beautiful.”

To say Valen was surprised would be like saying water was wet.

He had not been expecting anyone else to be here, much less that someone else to be a beautiful woman coming out of the sea and shimmering gowns of cold coalescing around her at the wave of a hand. Much less her taking an interest in him and coming closer. He was used to being shunned by most. However all of that paled in comparison when she go closer to him, he was too surprised to stop her frankly. His mind had gone blank there for a moment, she actually commented that his scars were...beautiful? Most people either looked at him with disgust or pity when he didn't wear a shirt. Those he didn't looked at him with anger because they thought he was after the latter. The truth was he didn't really care one way or another about his scars. He wasn't going to hide his past because it made others uncomfortable. Still though, someone commenting that they were beautiful was a surprise. Not an altogether unpleasant one either.

Still though, beautiful women coming out of the sea and talking to you were bad news usually. At least all of the sailor stories he'd heard over the years said so anyway. They couldn't all be wrong, could they? 'So will she drive me mad with a siren song? Seduce me and try to pull me into the sea to drown me? What does seducing someone even mean? What's the point?' He would think. He had heard the word as something women did to men, but he didn't have the knowledge of what it actually meant. It wasn't something his caretaker ever covered with him when he was teaching him. Still, now that she was this close he doubted he could stop her from doing whatever the hell it was she wanted. Be it sing him to madness, or seduce him, whatever that meant. Instead, he would take the moment to marvel at her. She was beautiful, and she seemed to be wearing a gown of ice, or snow, some kind of cold substance. As he had earlier believed. He stared at that attire in wonderment, his eyes looking curious and intent. "Aren't you cold?" He would ask, his mind automatically running through the symptoms of hypothermia. He knew of that from when sailors on ships had fallen into the sea. Practical experience was something he had in abundance if it was something that could be learned from a boat. She didn't seem to showing symptoms but did that mean she wasn't suffering from them?

Without a word he would reach out to her, a curious hand, that would move to cup her cheek if she allowed. He was curious as to if she was cold to the touch. Instinctively, he channeled a bit of fire chakra into the touch. Not enough to cause a burn or anything. However he couldn't let someone die of hypothermia, so he would do what he could do to make her warm if needed. He couldn't believe she didn't feel cold. Everyone felt cold, didn't they? Blinking to himself he would realize he never commented on what she had said and his lips would purse as he considered his response. "I can't say I've ever heard someone call them beautiful before. Thank you, your dress is beautiful too. I'm Valen, genin of Kirigakure." He would say simply, introducing himself. It was the polite thing to do he was told. As this occurred the tide would slowly be moving further and further up the beach. Soon to splash over them. "I'm enjoying the sunrise during the tide. I intended to let it wash over me, but would you like to join me?" He would ask, standing now to potentially move to a spot further up the beach that wouldn't be engulfed by the water. He couldn't ask her to get wet again again she had just gotten out after all. That would be rude. When he stood he would stand straight, his posture erect, to be about two inches shorter than her. This didn't bother him though, although he expected a comment on it. He usually got such when people really saw his height.

The man sitting on the shore didn’t seem to notice her at first, or at least didn’t react to her presence at first. She had managed to walk all the way up to him and speak before he moved or spoke. And his first movement was his eyes as he stared at her Hyoton gown with curiosity. She had forgotten how unusual such a sight might be and took a moment to enjoy the novelty of the scene before answering his question. Rarely did people ask if she was cold, she could think of two distinct times when that had occurred; once in the village of Tetsumura and now here on the beach. In response she would smile mischievously and shake her head gently to indicate ‘no’.

As she shook her head a hand came up to her cheek and she felt the warmth against her skin. It was a touch warmer than she was used to from people’s hands but it was not unpleasant. Sayuri did not move or flinch when Valen’s hand moved to her face, she never feared the actions of others and never felt the need to defend herself from imaginary potential injury. She would stand there and allow him to touch her as she elaborated on her silent answer. “The cold doesn’t bother me. I don’t even notice it, I think what might make you cold is just comfortable for me.” She grinned while she spoke, and would eventually straighten to standing, smoothing out the front of her gown and listening to him introduce himself. “Valen. You must be newly assigned then, as I think I know all of our Shinobi here. I am Sayuri, Princess of Kirigakure.” She would hold out the sleeve of her gown towards him. “Would you like to touch it? I’ve made it out of ice.” She passed over her own introduction quickly, not spending long on honorifics as she moved the topic towards something that was more meaningful to her. Ice.

When Valen stood Sayuri continued speaking, not noticing or commenting on their height difference. Sayuri was small at five foot three, so most of the time she had to crane her neck back to look others in the eye. Eventually she may notice that her neck didn’t complain as she spoke with Valen, but otherwise the concept of shortness or tallness flew over her metaphorical head. His invitation to join him as the tide came in was met with another grin and a sudden movement from the blonde woman as she gracefully sank to the sand and sat facing the open water. “Yes, I would like to join you. I have just spent many hours in the ocean, but I do love it very much. I’ve been looking for sharks you see, and other terrifying creatures of the deep.”

At his question she would give a wicked little smile that spoke of mayhem and when his hand touched her cheek should would not flinch or move away. She would however give her head shake words to go with it. He found it odd that people could be cold and he would stop channeling fire chakra, having not removed his hand quite yet. The difference would be stark, she was actually cold to the touch. Although not uncomfortably so, at least not to him anyway. His eyes would widen in surprise at that, and his head would tilt in curiosity. "It isn't uncomfortable, if anything I want to feel your cold more." He would say his curious eyes watching her before finally withdrawing his hand. He'd always had an affinity for fire, maybe that was why she didn't feel uncomfortable to him? When it came to introductions he would nod in the affirmative of him being new. He was going to speak when she introduced herself and gave him pause. One of the Princesses? That was certainly interesting. However she left the topic as quickly as she came to it, offering to let him touch her gown. The fact that she made it out of ice was interesting and his attention turned toward it as he reached up and felt it. He moved the material between his fingers. It was cold of course, but that wouldn't matter to her now would it? He enjoyed the feel of the gown, and he took a few moments to admire it.

After that he would speak again. "You're correct about me being new of course. I'm a genin, not long graduated." He would say as he stood. However when he offered for her to join him she would surprise him again by sitting down next to where he had been. Princesses don't generally let themselves get soaked did they? With that said, how many princesses go diving for sharks and creatures of the deep too? With that settled he would sit back down next to her, facing the water as the tide slowly came ever closer. "It's the wrong season to find sharks you know. You'll have much more luck in a month or so when the sea warms up a bit more." He would say, nodding out toward the sea. If she wanted to find sharks and other such creatures who was he to stop her? As a princess, wasn't he obligated to help her? "You're not like what I'd imagine a Princess to be Sayuri. I like you." He would say simply, his red eyes turning back toward her. She seemed adventurous and not afraid of getting her hands dirty. Of course he couldn't be aware of just how far down that fucking rabbit hole went yet.

A moment longer and he would realize he had been somewhat rude. His caretaker had always told him that taking something for nothing was rude and so he had to offer something to her for letting him feel her gown. That was only fair and his eyes went back to her before he spoke. "You let me feel your gown, didn't even get mad when I reached out and touched you. I suppose I owe you twice. I don't know what I could do to balance the scales twice over but for one, would you like to feel the brands? You seemed intrigued by them as I was by your gown so it seems only fair to me." He would ask, turning slightly so she could if she wished. He hadn't ever met anyone who would want to even look at them, much less touch them. However she didn't seem to mind their appearance and even said they were 'beautiful'. That made him like her more, as she didn't mind his scarred form. It was a novel experience for the man.

The man on the beach seemed to not fear her, which was new, most that she met were at least uncomfortable in her presence for one reason or another. Though she had not attempted to make him uncomfortable yet so his boldness made sense. She found that he was more curious than anything, even going so far as to comment that she was not like what he’d imagined a princess to be like.

‘Of course you are not, my Queen. You are so much more than a mere Princess.’

‘Thank you, Jareth. Tell me, what am I?’

‘You are my whole world, the icy heart of all my aspirations and a true god among men. You are my Ice Queen.’

‘And you have a way with words unlike any other, my King.’

Sayuri couldn’t help but beam as Jareth spoke in her mind, it would have been easy to assume that her smile was directly related to the compliment that Valen had paid her as she returned her attention to the dark haired man. She could have listened eternally to the charming words of her invisible ‘house guest’, but she knew that she could not ignore the outside world forever. She got enough time completely alone with Jareth while she was sitting atop her mountain and tucked away safely inside her ice castle. “Not lumping me in with the other Princesses is a bigger compliment than you could have known.” Was all she said in regards to his, most likely unintentional, compliment. She wanted to explain how detestable she found the other two, but it wouldn’t serve her to do it now. Not before she was confident she had the new recruit on side.

When Valen asked her if she would like to touch his brands, a wicked grin would spread across her face once more. Sayuri would nod emphatically as she reached her hand up towards the man’s scarred back. From her sitting position she could only barely reach him and rather than stand she would command the man. “Sit down. And tell me, where did you acquire so many beautiful scars?” Assuming the man complied she would run her cold fingers lightly over each brand, as if she were committing them to memory.

Her smile brought a curious expression to his features. Had he made her that happy by telling her she wasn't like what he imagined princesses to be? It was possible he supposed. When she commented as such, that not thinking she was like the other two was a bigger compliment than he could know he would blink in confusion. He had never met a princess before, so how could he tell her she wasn't like the other two? He thought he had said that she wasn't like what he imagined princesses to be like. After all he had heard stories, even during his days in slavery. Stories of heroes and princesses and knights. Stories of rescue, of danger. Still though, it wouldn't do to say otherwise. Besides, he was probably the one who had screwed up his words again. That was the usual case after all. It wouldn't be surprising in the least to see that was the case now. At his offer to let her touch his brands she would get a grin on her face that had a sinful cast to it and she would nod energetically. When she couldn't reach well she was tell him to sit down and to tell her where he got them all.

Of course he would do so, he had offered after all, and so he did. He said before her, his back turned and allowed her to touch them. Her fingers were cold, but not in an unpleasant way. At first it made gooseflesh rise up on his skin and he breathed in sharply for a moment as her skin touched his. It took a moment to become accustomed to her touch, but when he had it found he wanted to lean into it. Usually he didn't let anything touch his back unless he was laying on something or leaning against a wall. So the touch of another person was a strange sensation. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before speaking. "I was born a slave. Each brand is the mark of a previous master. Each time I was traded or sold the new master would first brand their mark into my skin. Then they would brand a single diagonal line through the previous masters brand to show it was now invalid. That theirs was the most recent brand and was therefore who I belonged to. I spent most of my time as a rower on various pirate ships. I was whipped a lot, I suppose there are scars from that back there too, but I've never really cared. Most days I was starved, beaten, and tortured. Of course since it was always the captain deciding to do so and the captain was always my owner. It was his right to do so. I didn't mind, it's what I was supposed to do after all." He would say, beginning with what each brand meant and what he had gone through as a slave. It was apparently a different mindset than most. However most weren't born into the life. Most were captured after they had lived without being enslaved. Valen was raised as one, so to him it was simply normal. He was used to demands, orders, commands. Granted he didn't know what he would do without being on a ship. He supposed that much would be different.

"Eventually, a few years ago I was freed by shinobi of this village. Of course you'll see there appears to be no current brand on my back. All of them have the line through them. There's because according to my previous master, my back was out of room. So he branded me here." He would say, raising his left wrist to show the brand on the inside. It was a diamond with a circle in it, and it was unmarred by any line. "The shinobi, when they said I was free, told me I was my own master now. I suppose that means I need to brand myself? Does that mean I sell myself to another master eventually?" He would say, speaking a curiosity that had been in his mind for a time and a question that had bothered him for a while. "If I'm my own master, and I sell myself..that means I get to try to negotiate my price I suppose. Money would be worthless, as my new master could just demand I give it back to them." He was thinking out loud now, considering the problem. He didn't really know what to do. As they sat, him answering her and more or less explaining his current predicament, the tide would slowly get closer and closer. The salt smell of the sea helped him think, and it was partially why he had come here.

[4]

Sayuri allowed her fingers to trace the scars along Valen’s back, intrigued with the varied designs as he explained where they had come from. Like most people born to wealth and affluence, Sayuri did not understand exactly what Valen meant by ‘slave’. She assumed that he merely meant ‘servant’ and was misusing the word. As far as she knew, slavery was an archaic concept that she’d only read about in fantasy stories - not an actual thing that happened to actual people. It also didn’t help that he threw in words like ‘beaten’ and ‘tortured’. That only served to make the idea sound more delightful to her. In her own twisted perception the whole ordeal sounded like a dream come true.

The one thing she did understand, or thought she did, was the concept of ownership. Valen had pointed out that every time he had been acquired by someone new, that the old brand was marked to indicate it was invalid. She assumed that this was meant to show at a glance that the previous owners had no claim to him, and so she found the unscored brand on his wrist curious. Reaching out her hand she would attempt to grasp Valen’s wrist gently so that she could see the scar better. “So this one means then, that someone somewhere could still lay claim to your skills. That will not do. If you were taken in by Kirigakure that means you’re mine. At least in part. If you allow me, I could claim you and you would never need worry about anything again.” She would consider for a moment Valen’s rhetorical questions about his price. “Whatever you ask is yours, I treat those who swear loyalty to me very well. And no one takes them. I’d kill anyone that tried. Slowly.” Her eyes gleamed as she promised her protection with utmost sincerity.

As he spoke, she would listen, tracing the scars on his back and causing small shivers of sensation to radiate through him. The dark haired male would inhale sharply after a few of them. However he would continue to talk throughout. Eventually devolving into commenting to himself under his breath. However the princess would reach out and grasp his wrist, holding it over and looking at the brand more closely. Then she would ask a question, one that would cause Valen to tilt his head in thought as she spoke. She was right of course, his previous owner did in fact still have a claim of ownership to him. Of course his previous owner was dead. But claims had been claimed afterwards by friends and family before. So why couldn't a friend or family member of his previous owner come to collect him if they discovered him? Of course the fix for this was simple. He had been taken by Kirigakure forces, so it made sense for him to be branded by one of the leaders. The very idea that she had pushed forward. Offering to do it herself. He smiled at her, it was a small, content thing, but it was a smile that no one in the village had seen before.

"I would like that, and I accept that deal. My price, will be assistance. Teach me things, not techniques, or fighting. But things about people, life. When I was brought to Kirigakure I was given to a caretaker. They taught me as much as they could over the couple of years I lived with him. However he died from old age. In addition to teaching me all he could he was ensuring I was training as a shinobi. So all in all, my education was..limited. My price for my servitude to you, is for you to be willing to answer my questions. Help me learn what I need. Be my guide, the one I can turn to for questions any others might consider stupid. Help me however you can, however you're willing..So long as I learn..So long as you agree to that..Then you can mark my current owners brand out. Then mark me however you wish." He would say, his red eyes meeting her blue ones. The next part, if she accepted his terms anyway, was always something that affected him. The reactions he got when that occurred were generally disgust but he didn't mind. He was used to it by now.

[5]

Sayuri returned the man’s smile as he accepted her offer. She was pleased when he saw the wisdom in her offer; it would have been irresponsible of her to allow the opportunity for someone to come and claim a shinobi of Kirigakure. She had offered him anything in exchange for his loyalty, and his choice of payment was. . . unexpected. Her eyebrow would raise very slightly as he named his price, but she nodded and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I can be your guide, I must say I am surprised that that is what you want, but I do understand the need for guidance and am happy to fulfill your request.”

She would grasp Valen’s wrist again tightly this time as she formed talons of ice on her right hand. A vicious smile would form on her face as she looked into Valen’s eyes and spoke. “This will hurt. Quite a lot.” She was not a very strong person, should Valen wish to pull away from her grip he most certainly could. But if he didn’t pull away she would slowly drag the talon through his unmarked brand, the cold being enough that it didn’t quite cut. . . it burned. She could have done it quickly, made it less painful, but she didn’t. She wanted it to hurt, she knew that all great things were accomplished through pain and that the greater the pain the greater the magnificence of what it created.  

Sayuri would glance up from her work intermittently, checking to see Valen’s reaction to the pain she inflicted. She hoped to see pain and fear, but would smile regardless of what she saw. Once she had completed marking his wrist she would release his arm and gently trace a single icy talon along Valen’s jawline. This wouldn’t cut the man, and as she traced the length of his jaw and the tip of the talon reached Valen’s chin she would dismiss the ice and focus her chakra to her teeth. Long icy fangs would form and with only a single phrase as warning, she would lunge forward and sink her ice fangs into the soft flesh of Valen’s neck.

“Now you belong to me.

Unless Valen pulled away from her the fangs would pierce his flesh and hot blood would trickle into her mouth. Her chosen mark.

When her eyebrow raised he would tilt his head to the side in curiosity as he listened to her response. He would open his mouth to respond to her. To ask her why it surprised her that he had requested such despite her offer to grant him anything. However before he could she would reach out and grasp his wrist tightly with ice talons forming on the other hand. Her grip was not particularly strong. Yet he would not break the grasp, why would he? She was to be his new master. She would look into his eyes and inform him of the incoming pain. Although he would not react to the words. That would not bother him in the least. Next she would slowly drag her ice talon through his unmarred brand and the pain would burn into him. For the first time since coming to Kirigakure he would gasp. However it would not be due to pain. Throughout Valen's life as a slave, through his torture, starvation, and in general horrible treatment he had become acclimated to the pain. He had even learned to enjoy it, a great deal in fact. As such when the pain of her marking out his previous masters brand. A circle enclosed within a diamond, the gasp he would let out would be a sudden pleasure and delight.

Where she was cold to the touch, he of course was warm. Polar opposites in truth but now even his cheeks would be flushed. He hadn't hurt like this in a long time, and he thoroughly enjoyed himself. At her smile, he would return it, only this time his wouldn't be the small thing he had given her earlier. It would be wider, more content. A single talon would trace his jaw and when she reached his chin she would dismiss the talons. In their place ice fangs would grow from her teeth and with a single phrase in warning she would come at him and sink her fangs into his neck. Her ears would hear the warning, his body would feel the pain. The piercing pain of ice would radiate through him, cooling his abnormally warm body temperature and giving him a pleasant numbness. But he would not pull away, no, if the marking of his brand was a cool drink of water then this was like being plunged into the icy depths and being held. No, he did not pull away, rather he pulled her closer, holding her against him as the icy numbness suffused him. A moan would escape his lips, a sound he had never made before and it was unfamiliar to his ears. At the same time the water would finally reach them but the cold water was nothing compared to the sensation of absolute cold that she delivered to him. With labored breaths he would finally speak, he had spoken similar words to each of his previous masters. Yet he never called one of them what he was about to call her. The natural progression of her title. He had also never meant the words as strongly as he did now.

"I'm yours, my Queen. I will do anything you command of me."  

[6]

Sayuri always enjoyed the feel of hot blood in her mouth, though normally she took enough that her victim would not live. This victim was different however, she was only marking him, not killing him. It was difficult for her to release her grip on him, especially when she felt him pull her towards him. The action could have been instinctual, or just a muscle twitch because of the pain, but there was no mistaking the moan that came from his lips. He was enjoying her hurting him. She hadn’t been certain until she bit him, but it only spurred her own more. . . which was dangerous.

She clung to him as she lapped up his lifeblood while it spilled from where she had bitten. She also growled, low and deep, a feral sound that rumbled through her as she pressed against the man. Her pupils were fully dilated and frost had begun to creep over her eyes as she drank him in. She was very close to being frenzied, soaked in blood and icy cold sea water, without Jareth there she would have probably killed Valen in her bloodlust. Valen’s words had only increased her passionate need to have more of him and she continued draining the man’s blood.

‘My Queen, please be calm.’

‘No! He’s mine.’

‘Yes, he is. And he will be yours dead if you do not cease.’

Sayuri would snarl audibly as she realized what Jareth was trying to tell her, and released her fangs from Valen’s neck, pulling back to stare into his eyes. “Your Queen has been commanded to allow you to live, and so you shall. You will be a bit weak for a time, but you will recover.” Sayuri was panting as she spoke, her hands still clutching at Valen’s form as she fought to keep herself controlled. She didn’t want to kill him, but she did want to consume him utterly. She would sit there for a time, staring into Valen’s eyes, her fingers digging into his flesh possessively as she moved forward with the tide until she was fully pressed against him. Her dress, being made of only Hyoton, would slowly melt away in the salt filled water as her attention was currently elsewhere. Releasing one of her hands from Valen’s back, she would trail her fingertips sensually up his back until they were woven into his hair on the back of his head. Once there, if Valen stayed where he was, she would tighten her grip on his hair and pull his head forward harshly. She would study his eyes as she yanked on his hair, checking for continued interest in the pain she delivered. She hoped to see him enjoy it as much as he had the ‘marking’. “You are mine. And tell me Valen, what do you wish of your Queen?” She would punctuate each of her words with some type of pain; a yank of his hair, her fingernails digging in, even biting at his neck and ear and jaw. She wanted to see what he desired, for she knew what she did, and she hoped that they were kindred spirits in that regard.

[Claimed RT thread EXP to this post]

The sweet, delicious pain of her coursed through him as her fangs of ice continued to drain him of his precious life's blood. His grip upon her only seemed to tighten as she continued and his restless breathing became more and more labored as his mind was pulled ever closer to madness with a sudden combination of pain and pleasure. Like a sweet fire coursing through him, like a drug taking hold he felt himself slipping away. Moving closer toward the precipice that would drive him absolutely insane forever. He was already in her sway, that was never in question. However just as he was about to pushed off the edge, thrown off the precipice into the abyss that awaited him, she stopped. The pain receded, not completely, no, but it faded gradually, to a dull throbbing on his neck. He felt the sharp puncture marks, felt the blood pumping from his heart and escaping from the two fang marks. The icy salt water washed the blood away as it fell over him, the blood too wet and fresh to withstand the whims of the ocean. The salt water only made the wound hurt more, causing him to shiver in combined pain and anticipation. She spoke to him, spoke of him being weak for a time, but he pushed himself up, forced himself forward. He had strength left, he had withstood pain and suffering for years although it had never been anything like this. Still, his willpower toward her will, toward proving himself to her as worthy, was not to be underestimated.

Her hands still clung to him, and her body pressed against his, her dress of ice and snow had melted under the assault of the ocean, revealing pale skin beneath and her body pressed against his. She would remove a hand from his neck and trail it languidly up his back, eliciting another shiver of anticipation. Her hand would grip his hair, fingers entwining themselves into the black strands and she would tighten her grip and pull his head forward harshly. Another sharp inhalation of breath as he felt a gradual increase in the pain his body felt, but also the pleasure and desire for more. Her blue eyes would meet his red, his own pupils would be dilated now, from desire, from need and he wanted more, needed more, more pain, more pleasure, more of her. She spoke, starting her ownership of him, and then asked him a question. Each word though would be met with another spike of pain, she would pull his hair, dig her nails in, bite him, and he felt his desire, his need surge ever greater.

He needed to answer, needed to put what he felt from her ministrations into words. He still had strength left, he could still go on, could still handle more. "M-More..." The word would be a choked down, barely audible whisper over the crashing of the waves around them. It was harder to speak through the tumultuous tide of sensation his physical body was experiencing. Hard to get the words out through the ever building fire within as the flames of need, of want, stoked hotter, and hotter. "I want more..more pain, more pleasure. I want my Queen to enjoy herself. I want..." He would trail off, his chest still heaving, their bodies still pressed together as she clutched him with her hands, and he held her to him with his arms around her lower back. "I want so many things I cannot explain. I feel something, a desire, like a fire inside that needs fuel. I want my Queen to feed it..I want to see how hot it can become." He would say, still unsure of how to articulate himself properly in this moment. He felt a lethargy over him, she had probably been correct in her statement about being weak. He managed to force himself upright, but he couldn't force himself up, didn't have the energy to reciprocate the pain she caused him. Of course he didn't know he couldn't do so, not yet. Regardless, his red eyes would never waver from hers of frosted blue. He felt his heart beating heavily, like a war drum of an army on the march. No matter what she did, be it hurt him, kill him, or leave him. He wouldn't be able to stop her, wouldn't want to. He would accept whatever boons his Queen granted him.

[7]

[Flashback for Sayuri from here]

Sayuri had been looking for Valen’s reaction, and what she found made her ecstatic. As he tried to speak she would lean in, gently running her fingers through his hair as she realized that he enjoyed pain at least partially as much as she did. Sayuri didn’t just enjoy receiving pain however, she also thoroughly enjoyed giving it. She also knew that the easiest way to control a person was by giving them exactly what they wanted, and then showing them that she had complete control over their desires. In this case she wanted him to feel like she was the only person alive that could give him what he so passionately declared he needed. With her gentle movements, she sought to drive that need higher, until he was near frenzy. So she would move her hands slowly over him; through his hair and across his bare flesh, lapping softly at the weeping wound on his neck. All of her touches were designed to leave him wanting more. She had started with pain and discovered that he enjoyed it - now she would comfort him until he begged her for it again.

“You are a fiery one, Valen. Your skin is warm to the touch. . . I wonder how much hotter it can become?” She would press against him firmly as she asked her rhetorical question, enjoying the feel of his unusual warmth against her unusual chill. By now, unless he had stopped her, she had all but pressed him into the sand and tide as she climbed atop him, her frosted eyes peering intently into his red ones. With only a thought she focused her hyoton into the air around them and snow began to fall, melting as it hit the water. Leaning even closer she would whisper into the man’s ear. “If you enjoy the cold so much, then you won’t mind if I carry you away, will you?” The question was again, rhetorical. She probably would have enjoyed it if she had to actually kidnap him, but she suspected that wouldn’t be necessary. He seemed very amenable to her ideas so far, and if he enjoyed her drinking his blood after biting his neck, then she couldn’t imagine what he would balk at. She did allow her sworn subjects the boon of choice however, and so if he wished it, she would cease in her torment. A toy that was broken was not fun to play with.

She stayed on top of him for a few moments, still gently touching him, still stoking the flame. She knew that she had drunk more of him than she probably should have, and while she did not regret it, she wanted to play more which meant she needed to ensure he would live through her playing. The problem was that she was also seeking the intensity he spoke of, and she was struggling to keep herself in check and play the part of a sadist. She was one, undeniably, however she greatly enjoyed being in the less dominant position. Relatively speaking.

With considerable strength of will, she would stop herself at only biting down hard on Valen’s ear before standing and taking a step back. Now that there was snow everywhere she could summon her companion to attend to her. With a wave of her hand a monstrous Behemoth arose from a nearby pile of snow and slush and ice. Standing at ten meters tall and covered in icy spikes, Sayuri looked especially small next to it. Looking up at the Behemoth she ordered him to pick her and Valen up and return them to her ice castle. The giant ice creature would immediately obey, picking up his Queen first and then Valen unless he ran or objected in some way. The Behemoth was large enough to cradle them both in its palms as it walked, which would place Sayuri and Valen close together inside Marshmallow’s cupped hands. This also had the added benefit of shielding Sayuri’s unclothed form from prying eyes.

Sayuri would continue to tease Valen as they were carried up the mountain, being hopefully infuriatingly gentle and then randomly she would inflict some superficial pain on the man. Her intention was, ultimately, to drive him mad. That was always her intention. For her though, madness was not an end; madness was the beginning. When they finally reached her ice castle, Marshmallow would set her and Valen down gently and then she would dismiss the Behemoth into a pile of snow and ice. With her other two Ice Forged on patrol, this Marshmallow was no longer necessary. Turning to face Valen, she would hold out her hand for him to take and attempt to lead him inside. The castle was stunning, made of pure Yuki Ice, with the occasional shot of wolfs blood in the foundation. Inside it held many rooms and was well furnished with a long wooden table surrounded by cushioned chairs, there were animal skin rugs and even a fireplace to accommodate those without the Yuki bloodline. “Welcome home, Valen. I have a game I would like to play with you, and if you win, then I will give you what you desire. But first, let me attend to your wounds. For this game I need you uninjured.” She would direct his attention to the main room, not caring particularly where he chose to sit, and once he found a place to pause long enough for her to heal him, she would use her medical ninjutsu to help him regain what strength he might have lost.

Her actions now were gentle, soothing, like a lover’s caress on a summer morning as they lay together under the warm sun. Of course Valen would have no idea what any of that meant. Still, the gentleness of her actions, her hands running over his form, her tongue lapping at the fresh blood still dripping from the twin wounds of fang marks upon his flesh. He leaned into her touch, the feel of ice upon fire, opposites that inevitably made him want the touch more. Her words would come, and he would listen. He could do nothing but listen, he was devoid of energy at this point. Barely able to pick himself up, he had enough for a small burst, but not much more. Not without help, not without medical aid or rest. She wondered how much hotter his skin could become, he did too. Was it even hotter to her due to her unusual chill? That would make sense wouldn’t it? He instinctively channeled fire chakra into his body, raising his temperature ever higher to her touch. He wasn’t sure how hot he could make it, but they could find out together if she wished. He certainly wanted to.

Her form would press into him, her body pressing against his and the chill of her form feeling incredible against his heat. It was a physical sensation that he could not begin to describe. It was almost music, like a song of ice and fire that drove him crazy with want that he did not know how to act upon. Her icy eyes looked within his eyes of red, their faces mere inches from one another. He felt the want, felt the need, but didn’t know what for. Ice and snow began to fall on the beach around them, the tide still coming, almost high enough to drown him if they weren’t careful but that would not matter much to him at that moment. If his Queen wanted him to drown, then he would. It was his duty, her orders were his to complete. Yet she still asked him, still gave him the power of choice. What a wonderful Queen she was to him, mere minutes into their pact. The question would come, she wanted to take him away. Where he did not know, and he did not care. He still felt the need to act, he still had that last burst of energy, and with a hungry, animal instinct he would turn his head and move to kiss her, his lips making to close upon hers in instinctive want. He was certain he could be put to death for doing such a thing to his Queen, for daring to touch her in any way of his own accord. But he could not stop that want, that need.

Should the attempt succeed he would taste his own blood upon her tongue and lips and it would make no difference to him. He did not mind the taste of it, did not care. The chill that went through him at the meeting of their lips caused that inner fire to rage. He wondered if his body temperature had increased because of it. If that inner fire had anything to do with the physical one that seemed to roar through him. He would break the contact, his breath heaving as he willingly spent the last of his energy. He was tired, so very tired, but so very content to be in service to this woman who lay atop him. His words came out, between laboured breaths. “You could take me to the world beyond if you so wish, my Queen. I would accept it willingly..” He would say simply, emotions he could not begin to describe or even fathom raging through him like a typhoon.

She stayed atop him for a time, still gently touching him, the feel of her skin upon his sending shivers through him as she maintained that inner flame with her gentle caress. Suddenly however, she would bite down hard into his ear and with breath he had not known he had he let out a moan of mixed pain and pleasure. Then just as quickly she would be gone, her touch gone from his skin, his body feeling the phantom brush of her fingers against him leaving little tingles of sensation. He would feel more than see the monstrous construct arise from the ice and snow around them. Although he had seen her wave her hand so he assumed she was the source. The monstrosity was huge and imposing. Valen himself wasn’t more than a meter and a half tall. This creature was ten meters tall and looked taller from his vantage pressed into the sand. The behemoth would first pick up Sayuri, and then himself, cradling both in it’s palms before it began to move. The constructs hands would cup close, hiding both from view and leaving them extremely close, and that sensation of her touch upon him once more became more than that of phantom feelings.

As the construct traveled she would be gentle at times, and harsh on others, causing some form of minor pain to him. Pressing her hand to his wound, pulling his hair, biting, scratching, each one would elicit a groan of pain and pleasure as they traveled. He became unaware of time, only able to focus on what was occurring to him but unaware of anything else except her presence in the darkness of the constructs cupped hands. After a time, he could not begin to guess how long, they would be set down. The construct would dissolve into hoarfrost, becoming one with the wind as it was blown away. He was barely able to stand, he was so tired. Blood still ran down his chest from her bite earlier, his energy was still spent and he felt a mental and emotional weariness he could not comprehend. Yet he still wanted more, more pain, more pleasure. He wanted to pass out from both, a state of bliss he had never had before. She would extend a hand to him and he eyes would raise to see the fortress before them. It was massive, and beautiful, and when she said the words ‘Welcome home’ something further inside of him broke. This wasn’t a bad thing though, it wasn’t the snapping of his mental foundations. It wasn’t the crushing of his sanity. “I..I’ve never had a home before..” He would say simply, emotion he did not know the name of coming out with the words. He had an apartment in the village sure, but that was simply a shelter, a place to sleep. It had never been a home. Even the caretakers residence had never been a home to him. So the offer of one now, for the first time in his existence, resonated deeply within him.

He took her hand, no questions asked.

He would follow wherever she wished, play whatever games she wanted. “As you wish, I crave the opportunity to play this game.” He would say simply as she led him inside. They would go to large main hall, with cushioned chairs and a long wooden table. She led him into it and let him select a chair. He chose a bench, so the chair back would not interfere with any reach she needed to heal him. When he said she would begin to help him, healing him. Over time, he felt his strength return, his exhaustion fading. His wounds faded, all except the newly formed scar upon his neck where her fangs had bitten into him with wanton glee. Two fang marks that would mark him as hers forever. After a time his energy would be restored, his body fixed as well as could be possible given his scars. With that his red eyes would seek out hers of blue, ready to hear whatever game this might be.

[8]

As much as she enjoyed simply walking around naked, she needed to continue her game so she would create another sparkling ice gown as Valen sat down on a bench. The man had had a curious reaction to her using the phrase ‘Welcome home’, and she tucked that bit of information away for future use. Her current goal did not involve crushing him emotionally, she had been sincere in her statement. If a home meant that much to him, it was nothing for her to give him one. As she knelt and healed the injuries she had given him - the fang marks in his neck and the burned line through his last brand - she studied him carefully. The wounds would heal, but the scars would remain, and as she drew her gaze over him she would smile as she saw the two scarred puncture marks on his neck. After a short while she would rise with her technique complete and brush her hand across him as she stood, her palm resting gently on Valen’s shoulder and squeezing slightly.

A low rumbling sound came from her, a human combination of a growl and a purr, as her grip tightened. She did not feel the need to keep her thoughts from him so she spoke them aloud. “I want to tear you apart, slowly. I would never, since I also want to keep you. But I want you to understand; my desires are deep and dark and vicious. I yearn for pain and torment at all times, it is a need that I have. For myself, pleasure and pain are one and the same and it seems that they are for you as well.” She would drive the point home by sitting on the bench next to him, leaning in and placing her lips against his. She had been surprised by his earlier kiss, but had not reciprocated on it at the time. Now she reciprocated in full. If allowed, she would kiss him deeply, and then take his lower lip between her teeth and clamp down viciously. She did not intend to draw blood, but even with her weaker strength it would be enough to cause pain. She would hold his lower lip in her teeth, hoping to hear the man moan again, though whether he did or not after a few seconds she would release him and pull away while licking her lips.

With a regal bearing and a mischievous grin, Sayuri would hop up onto the table, sitting cross legged with her bare feet sticking out from underneath her newly formed gown. Her blue eyes searched for his eyes and held his gaze as she explained her plan. “Valen, my sweet Ember, my game is simple; all you have to do is cause me pain. If you can do that, then I will do whatever you wish, I will feed your fire and take you to depths unknown. You may use anything you wish; techniques or tools, the choice is yours. This is your home and everything in it is at your disposal - save for the shrine to the King of Lies, you must never touch that without my permission.” In one of the rooms was a small shrine made of ice with sculptures of Jareth that she had made with her own ice and blood. The shrine was obviously different in nature to everything else within the castle; the other rooms were furnished and decorated more typically, with all of the usual accoutrements found in a large palatial estate.

As she stood her hand would rest upon his shoulder, squeezing slightly and a low rumbling from her chest. Like a predator looking upon its prey and wanting to partake in a meal. He felt hunted, more than he did when he was near Sero. That had been an unseen predator, the unknown within the shadows one could not see. This? This was the predator you could see, but could do nothing about. The one that you couldn’t fight because ones fate was inevitable. Your life was her whim and nothing more, and the feeling got his heartbeat racing. She would speak, informing him of what she wanted to do to him. He would let her, it was her right, she owned him after all. He listened to her wants, her desires, how she yearned for pain, for torment. She spoke of them having the same feelings toward pleasure and pain. When she did she sat next to him, and kissed him. She hadn’t returned the kiss before, and he leaned into this one as she did. He had never kissed anyone prior to that moment earlier, and the feeling of hot and cold mixing between their lips sent shivers down his spine. They kissed deeply, before she bit down upon his lower lip, bringing another moan of mixed pleasure and pain from the man. She would hold his lip in her teeth for a few seconds before letting him go.

Then she would grin at him, and hop up onto the table. His red eyes would follow her as she sat, crossing her legs and bare feet sticking out. Then she would explain the game. He was to cause her pain, in anyway he could. If he could, she would do whatever he wished, she would add fuel to his inner fire and bring him to depths he could not yet fathom. He would listen to the rules, this was his home now, and anything in it could be used as his will desired save for one thing. Tilting his head to the side he would consider the caveat. A shrine to the ‘King of Lies’? Some of the pirates he had been owned by had possessed shrines to gods. Was this ‘King’ a god of some kind? If so, if he was living in the home of one who worshipped him, should he not also pay respects. He nodded his head to her game, accepting it as he considered how difficult it could be to hurt her. His hand went to his sword, a test was in order. However, first a question. “You speak of a shrine to the ‘King of Lies’. If I’m to live in this home, is it not right and proper for me to pay my respects? How might I do so? Is there an offering I could leave before the shrine? A prayer?” He would ask, his head tilted in curiosity as his red eyes focused upon her. He would await the answer of his question before swinging the blade one way or another.

Of course Valen was never one to hold back from a challenge.

The moment the blade cleared the sheathe it would ignite, the blade engulfing into fire as it met air and the swing was made with the full force of his body behind. If she had laid the challenge then clearly she was confident. He had no right to question the confidence of his Queen. So he would trust in it implicitly. The blade would swing though the air, the fire cracking as it swung through the oxygen, using it to fuel the fire. The impact would be sudden, and powerful for him, one of his best ones yet to be sure. Should this succeed he would obviously have won the game and he would await her pleasure after sheathing his blade, extinguishing the blade as he did so. Of course in the vastly more likely scenario where absolutely fuck all happened he would blink in surprise. Before obviously sheathing his blade still and blinking at her in curiosity. His head would tilt again as he thought. He would study her, eyes roving over her as he considered his options. “That was my best swing currently..” He would say aloud, not bothering to hide the fact. His eyes would lose focus for a moment as he considered his options. This palace was huge, and..probably had options. Nodding to himself he would move over to her and move to place his hands on her arms. He couldn’t hurt her with his base strength, but given her size and his musculature he was willing to bet he was stronger than her. So he would make to push her down to where she was laying on the table, arms outstretched. Provided this was successful he would speak. “Wait there, let me search a bit for something to try. I have an idea.” He would say to her before turning and walking away, in search of something he could use.

He moved through the palace, searching for something he needed. He would know it when he found it. It took a bit of time but eventually he located it, the kitchens of the palace. Within he searched and found exactly what he needed. Then he would return to her, when he arrived, provided she was where he had physically pushed her. He would nod to himself in preparation. “I return my Queen, my apologies for the wait. I had to find the Kitchens. This is my last attempt, I can’t possibly do anything more without more training myself. So if this fails, I lose your game and will accept any punishment for losing you see fit to give me.” He would say before opening the bottle of alcohol he had obtained. If the fire wasn’t hot enough after all, the answer was to change the fuel source. The alcohol he had found was the highest percentage he could find at 95% and it would burn well. See, alcohol fires burned extremely hot. He knew that from his time on pirate ships some of his owners would use this fact in their raids. It made for a brutal fuel and just about any alcohol fire would cause the blue core of fire that was it when it was at it’s hottest naturally. With the bottle open, provided Sayuri was still laying upon the table, he would pour it over it, not sparing a single drop, the liquid would splash all over the young woman if allowed and once the bottle was empty he would draw his sword again. This time he would only bring his blade near the fire before igniting it. Alcohol ignition point was so low it didn’t need much and with a burst of fire the alcohol would burn over his Ice Queen, the fire would cover her, engulfing her form in the flames that were as hot as he could possibly make them at this time.

Now it was time to see the results of the game.

[9]

As Sayuri sat on the table and explained the rules of the game to her Ember she would watch as he tilted his head as she mentioned the ‘King of Lies’. She hadn’t been expecting that to draw any interest, but when he questioned who she was referring to she had to pause and think.

‘You know, I had never considered that others may wish to worship you.’

‘At the height of my power, all will worship me. Just as they have before.’

‘How should he do that then, if he wishes to, I think he should.’

‘He may be taught, my Queen.’

With his permission given, Sayuri’s expression would become serious. “I will teach you of him in time. Yes, there are certain things you may do to show devotion and love, for now however you need only know that he resides within me. And to please me is to please him.” Then she would sit there patiently awaiting Valen’s attempt to cause her pain. She was doubtful that he would be able to, since her time spent with Jareth she had grown supernaturally resistant to damage and as an unfortunate side effect; she had also grown resistant to pain. It had been a frustrating revelation and since that day she had sought after something or someone. . . anything to bring her the pleasurable pain she craved with every fibre of her being.

When Valen pulled out his sword, Sayuri’s eyes would light up with glee, but she didn’t move. She wouldn’t even flinch as Valen’s sword lit on fire and he swung it with considerable force at her. As expected, it did nothing. The only visible cue that he had even connected the swing, was the slight movement from the force behind the swing. She did look slightly disappointed, but only because she was hoping that this would be the time someone could actually hurt her. She could see the surprised blink and she would grin. “You’ll have to be a bit more creative, my Ember.” She was teasing him but she hoped that the teasing would motivate him in some way.

When he placed his hands on her arms she would let out a very quiet gasp of anticipation. He was much stronger than she was and the feeling of being pushed to the table brought a pleasant blush to her cheeks. She couldn’t fathom what he was going to look for, she suspected some sort of weapon; a knife or rope or something. She had plenty of things available, but she was excited to see just how creative the man could be. She didn’t want to wait, she was as impatient as always, but she did so enjoy the torture of being told to wait. She stayed laying on the table where he had put her and kept her arms outstretched. She could feel desire coiling around inside of her as she waited, and she squirmed minutely as she fought against her impulsiveness and did as he commanded. When he returned he would see her as he left her, but her cheeks were flushed and as she looked towards him wanton desire was evident on her features.

“No apology necessary, my dear Ember. When we are alone, when we play you may behave as you wish, command me as you wish. And you will not be punished for it, rather I will praise you for it. Now please, I beg you, hurt me.” Her voice was strained and breathy as she begged him, her eyes pleading as she looked towards the man she had just given power to. She was near desperation now, the anticipation of pain having the exact effect on her that she had hoped the withdrawal of it would have on Valen. The alcohol that he poured over her body was cold, colder than her own skin or so it felt to her, and she would moan quietly as she twitched while she tried to stay still. When he drew his sword once more and reignited the flame along the blade she finally understood what he was doing. A second was all it took for the liquid she was soaked in to ignite, and at first she felt nothing. Being on fire while impervious to pain was an odd sensation, it felt gentle and warm like a sun kissed summer breeze. But after a few seconds she began to feel the fire’s heat grow in intensity, until eventually she shivered as the first pricks of pain spread across her form. The light from her body in flames danced across the angles of the ice walls and ceiling, creating a glittering display of red, orange and white across the whole room. The table itself began to burn and smoke and the nearby candles wept waxy tears from the aura of heat. She was enjoying the thought of what was happening, and the thought was almost enough to bring her the release she wanted without any physical pain. Almost but not quite, the memories of pain that she had were vivid but distant and she struggled to recreate them. After a few more seconds or years the tiny pricks of pain blossomed into full blown delicious agony.

And then she screamed.

It was a scream of pure pleasure as she arched her back and shook violently, in her ecstasy soaked haze she was unable to keep still any longer and unless Valen held her where she was, she would raise up until she sat still alight, and reach for him. Her eyes would turn from blue to black with the madness of a woman on fire in her gaze. “M-more. . . please I beg you, more. I need more.” It was her turn to beg for more as she attempted to pull him to her, she didn’t know if the flames would burn him though, and if it seemed as though he would be grievously injured she would extinguish them. Otherwise however she would make no move to extinguish the white hot flames, she would dismiss her hyoton gown as she thrashed and undulated all while continuing to scream at the waves of ecstasy that continued to crash over her.

When she responded to his inquiry about paying proper respects he would nod in acceptance. Learning how to properly pay such respects to the god of his Queen would be important to him. Overtime, he could learn how and do so. For now though, if pleasing her was to please him then he had better succeed at this game and bring her to that desirable pain that she wished for so much. “I look forward to learning then.” He would say respectfully. When he drew his sword, her eyes would light with glee but she would not even flinch in response to the swing. However to his surprise nothing would occur, the force of the blow, the sharpness of the blade, the heat of the fire, none of it would matter to the Ice Queen. When she informed him that he would have to be a bit more creative than that he nodded. Then of course he would press her against the table. Her gasp of anticipation and an almost girlish blush would come to her cheeks and he would feel a hot flash of the same want as before. He would disappear and after a time reappear with the alcohol.

When he returned and poured the alcohol over her he would note her strained voice, her flushed cheeks. The begging tone. The moan the cold alcohol would elicit from her lips would send a shiver of want through him once more. She would twitch a bit at the cold of the alcohol and when he ignited the alcohol he would watch and wait. As the alcohol started to burn and temperature started to rise upon her skin. The flames dancing across her pale skin, blue flickering cores with orange tongues licking the air above her and when she shivered he knew he had succeeded in his task. He watched as the fire spread, melting a nearby candle with the heat and as it rose in temperature he would finally hear what he had been trying to hear. Her screams of agony pierced through the hall as she cried out in pure unrestrained pleasure. Her back bowed and she shook and she sat up. Himself unable to get close to the flames due to their heat. He himself was not impervious to fire. Her hand would reach out for him, her eyes turning from blue to black with madness in them before she began to beg and as she did his heart would race. She would reach for him to pull him closer, however he would not allow that to happen, but not because he did not want to go to her embrace.

But because he wasn’t done yet.

See, it took time for the fire to actually heat up, and as it did it was steadily burning away the fuel. So when it finally reached it’s peak, the point where she finally screamed, or some point thereafter. It had already burned away a good deal of the fuel for that fire. What kind of player of this game would he be, if he did not try to ensure he had enough fuel. So when she reached out to him to pull him close, he reached behind his back, to the bottle he had slipped neck down behind his back to stay in place. The second bottle that he would surprise her with. “Lay back down, let the fire take hold, let it consume. But don’t let those same flames reach me my Queen, I cannot handle them as you can.” He would say, before throwing the second bottle at her with all his force. Should it connect it would of course shatter, and the alcohol within would splash over her and the already heated up flames that was adorning her body and the fire would continue at it’s peak, if it had even reached it. This would prolong her pain, her pleasure. And as he stood and watched, his inner fire churning and raging with want and his heartbeat pounding he would speak. “Admit my victory in your game..” He would say, she had given him a directive that he could command her as he wished in private and he would be praised. Now he would use it as best he could. To try to make everything as pleasing as possible for his Queen.

[10]

Sayuri wanted to touch Valen, to share the pain with him, but even as she reached out to pull him towards her he didn’t move. She would let out a pained whimper as she realized that he had no intention of going to her. It made perfect sense of course, she had superhuman constitution and what was merely a pleasurable sensation for her might kill someone else. The logic of it did not stop her from being frustrated however and she wanted to fight back, to insist. And then she saw the second bottle. She groaned with delight as she saw what Valen was going to do. When he commanded her to lay back down she felt a shiver run down her spine. The simple act of being commanded had a soothing effect on her, and she would obediently lay back on the singed table to await further commands. He could have told her to do almost anything, and she would have done it gladly. He had given her something that few had been able to give her for quite some time.

“As you command.” Was all she said as she lay her burning body back against the wood of the long table. She still had small waves of pleasure coursing through her, but the effect had dulled somewhat as the fuel for her passion had burned away. A powerful throw from Valen solved that problem in an instant, and as the bottle shattered against her she was wreathed in flame anew and her screams began again. He had instructed her to let the fire take hold and consume her, and in that moment she gave herself to the flame. The tongues of flame caressed her flesh, each lap against her skin causing her to twist and clutch at the table with her fingers. The heat was intense and it was only by virtue of the cold temperature of the castle that it did not spread further than the table. At Valen’s request to keep the flames from him, she would allow snow to fall inside the room they were in, chilling the air further and leaving only the table as an available burning space.

He was more creative than she had hoped, and as the fire continued to burn, the Ice Queen submitted to the pain. She sighed and wailed, laying on the table in excruciating bliss, she screamed out Valen’s name in between unintelligible cries of agonizing passion. She was beside herself, and barely able to keep her focus on her hyoton to keep Valen safe. She wanted more and she was going to cry out the same when she heard Valen’s next command. The confidence of his order evoked another violent shudder from the woman and she whimpered out her reply to him, her voice soaked with need. “Yes, yes. Ember you are victorious. I will do anything you ask of me, give you anything you desire. I beg you though, please allow me to feel you against me once more. I can extinguish the flames, they need not harm you.” She would stay with her back against the table but she would twist herself to see him clearly, waiting eagerly for his new commands.

As her pained whimper echoed through the room he would keep himself stoic and emotionless. He wanted to go to her too, wanted to embrace her with the fire engulfing them and to hell with the consequences. Wanted to feel the touch of fire as her body of cold was held against him and sending him mad with want and need once more. He almost did it, almost ignored the call for self preservation for what she wanted, what they both wanted. However he managed to keep himself from throwing him into that fire. She unlike her, he would not survive such hot flames, could not. When he pulled the second bottle out however her whimper would turn into a groan of anticipation and delight. At his command she would shiver, and then do so, stating that as he commanded, she would do. This only helped fuel the inner fire within him, the as of yet unexplainable desire for something that he did not know.

As the glass shattered and fuel was quite literally added to the fire, her screams would rise again. He listened to them, he screams of wanton pleasure and pain. He listened as she did as he bid her to let the flames take over. To lose herself to them with the exception of keeping that fire contained. Ice and snow began to fall in the room, preventing to heat from going further. So he watched, he listened, all the while his emotions that he could not yet define and quantify, sent him spiraling out of control. She cried out in pain and bliss, and cried his name out as the one who had brought it to her. Those cries added more fuel to that fire and when he ordered to admit his victory she shuddered, hard before crying out to him. Her admitting his victory was more fuel to an already raging inferno but he still had no idea what to do with it. She admitted she could do anything he wished, but she wanted to feel him against her once more. Assured his safety.

That was all he needed to hear to step forward. If his Queen assured his safety then he would be safe from these flames. Of that he did not doubt in the least. So he moved to her as she twisted to see him and when he reached the edge of the table he would reach for her arm and more to pull her off of it and against him. Should this succeed he would hold her against him, letting him get lost in the feeling of her naked form against him. Of course if she didn’t stop the fire he would be killed by this action, but he still didn’t even hesitate. Should he live, the feeling of her against him would drive him mad with want, with need and his lips would quest for hers once more, taking them should they succeed. He would kiss her furiously for a moment before breaking it and meeting her blue eyes with his red ones. He was shaking with uncontrolled want, filled with a fire he did not know how to express. So when his eyes met hers, he would speak his wants, speak what he wanted her to do. “I want to understand this want, this inner fire. I want what you spoke of earlier. Feed it more, take me to depths unknown. I want to understand what it is I’m wanting, what I’m feeling. You will teach me, guide me in what these mean.” He would say to her. As before these would not be phrased as questions, as requests, but as if she would do it. He would allow her to guide him anywhere she wished in the palace if necessary. However he would have his prize, he had won their competition after all.

It was as it always was when it came to such things. Competitions, he loved them, craved them. Could not resist them. He enjoyed trying to overcome such things. Of course it made itself more prevalent in combat. The thrill of fighting an opponent that might kill you. The clash of skill and want for survival. He loved it all, the contest, the victory. He lost at times of course. He could not win all of them. But even losing made him want to win, strove him forward to take the next challenge. So when Sayuri had told him they would be playing a game. She had unknowingly struck the perfect chord to spur him on. To make him want to win more than he could have otherwise. And win he had, and now he would take the prize at the end. He had earned it after all.

[11]

As soon as Valen stepped forward in response to her plea, Sayuri focused her chakra to the palms of her hands and created a thin sheet of Yuki ice across the fire on her body, instantly extinguishing the flames. A distinct ‘hiss’ noise would be heard as the ice met with fire, and plumes of frigid evaporation would swirl around her. She didn’t enjoy the idea of ridding herself of the pain, but she had promised to keep Valen safe from harm. When his hands connected with her the fire would be gone and she would allow him to pull her off the table and into his embrace. Not that she could have done much to stop him from pulling her, he was more than strong enough to do it without her being able to put up enough resistance to stop him.

Once she was within his arms she would press herself against him, soaking in the radiant warmth of his skin as it reminded her of the exquisite pain she had just endured. She didn’t just enjoy pain however, and the pleasure of the return of his touch evoked another deep moan as his lips locked with hers. She returned his kiss with equal passion, bringing her arms around his torso and pulling him closer to do away with any space between them. She could feel him shaking beneath her grasp and she didn’t understand why he didn’t simply take her, until he gave his next set of commands. Understanding dawned in her mind and she would gently press her forehead against his. “As you command.”

She would hold his gaze for a moment and then pull her head back from his, reluctantly loosening herself from his embrace; she would intertwine her fingers in his and begin walking towards her wing of the castle. She would gladly have taught him right where they stood, but she was also subtly going against his commands as long as she could. She wanted to obey him, but she also wanted to defy him - in order to be punished. She took her sweet time walking down the hallway, assuming she had even gotten that far with Valen in tow, and she would pause periodically to weave herself back into Valen’s arms again and press against him once more. Each time, if he allowed it, she would kiss along his neck and shoulders, silently teasing him and intentionally keeping his inner fire roaring. Her own was roaring as well, and she knew she wouldn’t have much longer before she lost all semblance of self control.

Once they finally arrived at the double door to her suite, she would release her hold of him entirely and push the door open revealing a room with a large four poster bed with heavy drapes pulled back and tied to each post. The bed was lavishly decorated with quilts and fur, and the floor had more animal pelt rugs. Along one wall was a chest of drawers and a washing basin and there were several small tables and comfortable looking chairs. Moving past Valen into the room she would beckon him forward, if he entered the room she would move to where he stood and kneel in front of him, her hands moving slowly up the side of each of his legs, until they finally rested on the waistband of his pants. Looking up at him she would attempt to pull the clothing off of him, gently pulling at his limbs to facilitate the action. If successful she would rise and point towards the bed while pressing herself against his now naked form. She would whisper into his ear, “I will show you what it is that you’re wanting, what prize you have won, but first you need to lay down.” She was trembling with want now, and her voice trembled in time with the heavy beating of her racing heart.

When she came into his arms and his lips met hers she would let out a deep moan and return the kiss with equal ferocity. She pulled them together, space between them no longer existing and he felt the cool form of her body against his. It seemed ludicrous to him that she could still feel cool after he had just lit her on fire. Yet she was, and he relished the feel of the coolness against his skin. When he gave her his commands her forehead would lean to his and her words would send a shiver down his spine. It was hard to remember that this could only be done in private. He had a sinking feeling the repercussions of trying to give her commands publicly would end swiftly, and permanently.

Their eyes would meet for another few moments before she pulled her head back and left his embrace. Their fingers would entwine and she would lead him toward her wing of the castle. He followed her with no questions for a time. Yet after a while he realized that she was prolonging things, rebelling in her own way. Her steps were short, and took time and at times she would come back into his arms and press herself to him, kissing his neck and shoulders. Each bit of contact sent sensations through him that drove him slowly more and more to the edge. He relished the contact and where her lips neck his neck, so did his meet hers. His inner fire continued to rage and he felt an uncontrollable want course through him. He didn’t know where they were going exactly. But at one point when she turned into his arms and kissed along his neck and shoulders he would do the same as he had before.

When eventually she broke away he would grab her by the throat and push her into the wall. His eyes dilated with pent up emotion and lust, although he would not know to call it that. He would pin her there for a time and claim her lips in his again. Holding her against the wall as he vented a small fraction of his desire into that kiss. A moan would escape from his lips between breaths before he broke the kiss and led her off the wall. “I can’t wait anymore..I need you..” He would say, before following her to the double doors at the end of that very wall. She would enter, beckoning in with him into what seemed like her room, a large bed, lavishly decorated and heavy drapes. A washing basin, chests of drawers and small tables with comfortable chairs. When he reached her she would kneel before him, her hands moving up his legs to the waistband of his shinobi pants. Then she would move to pull them off. He would facilitate this by first, kicking off his boots to the side so the pants could come free, and then help her remove the clothing. Once he was as naked as she was she would rise and point toward the bed, pressing herself against him. The full body contact was like nothing he had felt before and he let out a groan of desire for her. She would whisper into his ear what she needed him to do in order to teach him, guide him, toward the prize he had won and he would do so. Moving toward the bed and climbing atop it. He would settle upon it, laying on the bed as requested. His red eyes would watch her all the while, for the first time, although he would not know it. He would look at her as a predator did prey. As someone who wanted something and would have it.

[12]

Her rebelliousness on the way to her suite had the desired effect on both accounts; she successfully drove him closer towards the edge, and she was punished for it. When he gripped her throat and pushed her against the wall she gasped and moaned into his mouth as he kissed her. She thought he was close to breaking and it gave her more energy. Once they were inside the room and she had helped to remove the remainder of his clothing she would watch as he moved to the bed and lay down as she requested. He was gorgeous and she took time to fully appreciate what she was looking at. However, the entire time he moved she felt something she didn’t usually; she felt like he was the hunter and she was the prey. It was a delightful feeling and she savoured it as she meekly moved to the bed. Something about his current demeanour made her feel vulnerable, and so she behaved as though she were. Perhaps it was his cleverness with the fire, or his commanding nature but whatever it was she responded readily to it.

Once she was kneeling on the foot of the bed, she would crawl across it and over his body while allowing her skin to brush against his as she snaked up the length of him, inch by agonizingly slow inch. When her head was level with his stomach she would gently kiss along his torso and then up to his chest and shoulders and neck. She continued kissing along his body until her hips aligned with his and she could feel his hardness against her nethers. The first touch against her elicited a loud gasp along with a shiver of pleasure that inspired her to rock back and forth against him for a few seconds, moaning and sighing as she tortured them both for a fraction longer. When she finally couldn’t take anymore she would angle her hips so that she could feel him firmly at her entrance and all it would take was a bit of downward force and he would slide into her. But she held her position just a bit longer, taking that moment to lock her gaze on his. She would speak breathlessly as she lowered herself onto his shaft all the way to the hilt. Once she felt him enter her fully she would sit still, her inner walls spasming around his girth as her body stretched to accommodate him. “If you need me, my sweet Ember, then take me. I am yours to command. Your prize.”

The meekness she displayed as she came into the room after he had forced her against the wall and kissed her earlier was interesting and it made him feel more in control of something. However it was not what drove the fire in him. That powerful desire for more. As she helped him undress she continued to show it right up to when she came to join him on the bed of furs and blankets. As she moved up his form she would begin to kiss his body somewhere starting at his stomach and moving up slowly, trailing a pattern. He felt an involuntary shiver go through him as he felt her lips on him as she moved up his form until their heads were level. When their hips aligned and he felt himself brush against her nether regions he felt himself stiffen in surprise as inhale sharply. In her it elicited a shiver and groan and she rocked against him for a few moments, torturing them both with something although the sensation felt amazing. As she stopped this however her eyes would meet his as she adjusted her bodies angle. She would speak as she came down upon him, his rod entering her fully as she slowly lowered herself onto it. He gasped at this and his hands went to her hips.

Her words of him being able to take her if he needed her. To command her, that she was his prize took on an entirely new meaning to him as her body stretched to accommodate him. He groaned out, her name on his lips as he let the feeling take him for a moment and let them both sit like that for a few moments. Then tentatively, experimentally, he used his strength to lift her most of the way off of his shaft before setting her back upon it. This would trigger another feeling of sensation that drove him not just toward the breaking point but over it. With another gasp as he moved to pull her down to him, to kiss her he would flip them so that she was laying upon her bed and he atop her. He would claim her lips with his as he pulled her against him, feeling their bodies against one another. As he did, he would rock his hips, slowly at first, but inevitably picking up speed. After a time he would break that kiss and his red eyes would look to meet hers as his hands moved to restrain hers. It was more fun if there was a struggle. A contest to overcome, to win or lose he thought. He wondered if she would accommodate such a request.

Of course she would, she was his Queen, and at the moment, she was his prize.

"I want you to fight me. I want a contest to overcome." He get out breathlessly as he continued to thrust himself into her. Physically he was stronger than she by a massive degree given their body size and muscle composition. Yet that didn't immediately mean she could not fight. She could get leverage, could indeed make it a contest. Could take this even further by causing pain to him. He could not do the same to her nearly so readily, but he intended to be able to and soon. He needed to progress in his shinobi arts. More importantly, he needed to increase the potency of his fire release chakra. So that he could cause her pain without needing the starter. Then he could do so in the middle of this act, as much as she wanted. None of this mattered though and instead he focused on his thrusting into her, the sensation of this act, whatever it was, acting as a release for the fire that had built up within.

[13]