Where Faeries Live Still ...
folder
Original - Misc › -Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
30
Views:
7,976
Reviews:
108
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Original - Misc › -Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
30
Views:
7,976
Reviews:
108
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
I own these characters. However, this is a work of fiction, any resemblance to any real person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Stripes the Moon
Pen name: Pittwitch
Prompt: Moon
Story: Stripes the Moon
Type: FlashFic
Word count: 1000 exactly
Fandom: Original
Pairing: Original/m/f
Warnings: Spanking, D/s
“Colin!” she barked sharply, “Fetch me a crop.”
Edward stood in the doorway and glared at her angrily.
“You wish to countermand me?” she addressed her brother.
“No,” he growled discontentedly.
“Wise,” she snapped. She continued towards her chamber. She shoved the door open and surged into the room as if a general laying siege to a town. Connor hurried to close the door behind them. Immediately, her nimble fingers began to tear at the fastenings on her gown. Connor rushed to assist.
“NO!” she snarled. “Do not presume to touch me!” She sneered at him, discontent clearly showing on her face. “Pack everything back into the wardrobe. Leave only my traveling clothes.”
Connor hung his head as he hurried to obey his Mistress, hoping to avoid incurring any more of her wrath. Lovingly, he folded each of the garments she had strewn about the chamber, and tucked them safely into the drawers of the wardrobe.
He tried not to jump when she flung the gown across the bed in his direction. She snatched her heavy woolen undergarments and began to dress for the cold ride back to her home, the cottage she loved, away from the prying eyes of the town, and servants in the manse, her brother.
A soft knock on the door caught her attention sharply. “Enter!” she issued.
Meekly, Colin opened the door and entered. She nodded acknowledgment and he quickly crossed the room to fall on his knees, on the braided rug, in front of the dying fire. As his knees hit the floor, Colin raised both hands, offering up a plain leather wrapped riding crop. He bowed his head, and waited.
“Strip and join your brother, pet,” she demanded of Connor. Docilely, he complied, laying his clothes neatly on the chair where Edward had rested just the night prior.
“Colin, how long has it been since you have trained together?” Aine asked idly.
“Mistress, I cannot recall,” Colin answered cautiously. Aine, barefoot, walked across the creaking wooden floor and claimed the crop. Connor fell to his knees, naked, next to his uniformed brother.
“I cannot waste my time re-teaching you two,” Aine grumbled. “There will be times when I call upon absolute faith in my judgment. I will not tolerate doubts.” She emphasized her point with a slash of the crop, testing its weight and flexibility. “The time draws near when your faith, your obedience must be complete.” Aine knelt down in front of the brothers, holding the crop behind her back. “To be obeyed, one must first know how to obey.”
Connor squeezed his eyes shut tight against her forthright gaze. His hands twitched behind his back. Colin stared straight ahead, steadfast.
“Have I ever broken a promise, pet?” Aine whispered.
Connor drew a deep breath through his nose, steadied his heart, and opened his eyes to meet her gaze. “No, Mistress,” he answered softly.
“Yet you doubt me… still,” she commented sadly, her eyes brimming. Rising to her feet, she stood and tapped her foot impatiently as she pondered her next move. “Colin, on the bed!” she barked.
Colin sprang to his feet, asking as he did, “How would Mistress like me to position myself?”
With an annoyed huff, and a wave of her hand, Aine answered, “Sitting on the edge, at the foot.”
Colin instantly complied.
“Assume the position, pet,” she continued.
Connor did not rise as quickly as his brother but rose nonetheless. He stepped to stand in front of his brother. Colin spread his legs and held his arms open for Connor, who stepped inside the offered protection and bowed so that his face rested on the bed next to Colin’s hip. Connor circled his arms around Colin’s waist, and in turn, Colin dropped his hands to his brother’s bare arms to help hold him steady.
Aine watched the two men, and set her jaw. “Duty must,” she murmured. “Fifteen shall be sufficient.”
“Yes, Mistress,” both men answered. Colin bowed his head as if in prayer.
“No!” she shouted, “You will watch and learn!”
“Yes, Mistress,” he agreed reluctantly.
Connor shifted uncomfortably, closing his legs tightly to protect himself. That slight movement enraged Aine further. She kicked his legs apart, to allow his penis to dangle freely. “Keep his legs spread, Colin!” she ordered. “These are mine, pet. You dare not trust me even now?” she raged at him and grasped his balls firmly. “If I so choose, you’ll take all twenty strikes here!” she fumed, tugging roughly. When she snapped twenty, Colin’s eyes grew wide but he did not dare speak in defense of his brother. Aine shoved Connor’s head down further, and pushed his feet forward to force his buttocks higher. He clenched his fists tightly together, unseen, behind Colin’s back. With a grin that bordered on evil, she pulled his penis backwards. “Hold his legs closed now, Colin.”
Colin swallowed hard, but complied, holding his older brother’s legs tightly between his knees, even knowing that he left his brother’s manhood open and vulnerable to her crop.
With no warning, she reared back and lay one vicious strike across both buttocks, low, very near the swell of his engorging balls.
“One, Mistress. Thank you,” Connor spat out, his voice muffled by the coverlets. Aine proceeded to lay into the strikes in rapid succession, raising perfectly aligned, thin red lines rising from her first up and over his buttocks, ten thin red, painful looking sripes. Dutifully, Connor withstood each strike, counting and thanking her respectfully after each. The muscles in Connor’s legs were twitching as he tried to remain steady.
“Long has it been since you were reprimanded thus,” Aine growled as she ran her cool left hand over his heated skin. “Perhaps I have failed you,” she bemoaned her own failure.
“No, Mistress!” Connor vowed vehemently. “No!”
“Time will tell, pet.” Aine fondled his red, swollen sacs, planning her next move. Connor pressed backwards as much as his position would allow, begging silently for more pleasurable contact.
A/N: Thanks to FairySlayer for the title, and thus compliance with the prompt. You rock, Ponyboy.
Prompt: Moon
Story: Stripes the Moon
Type: FlashFic
Word count: 1000 exactly
Fandom: Original
Pairing: Original/m/f
Warnings: Spanking, D/s
“Colin!” she barked sharply, “Fetch me a crop.”
Edward stood in the doorway and glared at her angrily.
“You wish to countermand me?” she addressed her brother.
“No,” he growled discontentedly.
“Wise,” she snapped. She continued towards her chamber. She shoved the door open and surged into the room as if a general laying siege to a town. Connor hurried to close the door behind them. Immediately, her nimble fingers began to tear at the fastenings on her gown. Connor rushed to assist.
“NO!” she snarled. “Do not presume to touch me!” She sneered at him, discontent clearly showing on her face. “Pack everything back into the wardrobe. Leave only my traveling clothes.”
Connor hung his head as he hurried to obey his Mistress, hoping to avoid incurring any more of her wrath. Lovingly, he folded each of the garments she had strewn about the chamber, and tucked them safely into the drawers of the wardrobe.
He tried not to jump when she flung the gown across the bed in his direction. She snatched her heavy woolen undergarments and began to dress for the cold ride back to her home, the cottage she loved, away from the prying eyes of the town, and servants in the manse, her brother.
A soft knock on the door caught her attention sharply. “Enter!” she issued.
Meekly, Colin opened the door and entered. She nodded acknowledgment and he quickly crossed the room to fall on his knees, on the braided rug, in front of the dying fire. As his knees hit the floor, Colin raised both hands, offering up a plain leather wrapped riding crop. He bowed his head, and waited.
“Strip and join your brother, pet,” she demanded of Connor. Docilely, he complied, laying his clothes neatly on the chair where Edward had rested just the night prior.
“Colin, how long has it been since you have trained together?” Aine asked idly.
“Mistress, I cannot recall,” Colin answered cautiously. Aine, barefoot, walked across the creaking wooden floor and claimed the crop. Connor fell to his knees, naked, next to his uniformed brother.
“I cannot waste my time re-teaching you two,” Aine grumbled. “There will be times when I call upon absolute faith in my judgment. I will not tolerate doubts.” She emphasized her point with a slash of the crop, testing its weight and flexibility. “The time draws near when your faith, your obedience must be complete.” Aine knelt down in front of the brothers, holding the crop behind her back. “To be obeyed, one must first know how to obey.”
Connor squeezed his eyes shut tight against her forthright gaze. His hands twitched behind his back. Colin stared straight ahead, steadfast.
“Have I ever broken a promise, pet?” Aine whispered.
Connor drew a deep breath through his nose, steadied his heart, and opened his eyes to meet her gaze. “No, Mistress,” he answered softly.
“Yet you doubt me… still,” she commented sadly, her eyes brimming. Rising to her feet, she stood and tapped her foot impatiently as she pondered her next move. “Colin, on the bed!” she barked.
Colin sprang to his feet, asking as he did, “How would Mistress like me to position myself?”
With an annoyed huff, and a wave of her hand, Aine answered, “Sitting on the edge, at the foot.”
Colin instantly complied.
“Assume the position, pet,” she continued.
Connor did not rise as quickly as his brother but rose nonetheless. He stepped to stand in front of his brother. Colin spread his legs and held his arms open for Connor, who stepped inside the offered protection and bowed so that his face rested on the bed next to Colin’s hip. Connor circled his arms around Colin’s waist, and in turn, Colin dropped his hands to his brother’s bare arms to help hold him steady.
Aine watched the two men, and set her jaw. “Duty must,” she murmured. “Fifteen shall be sufficient.”
“Yes, Mistress,” both men answered. Colin bowed his head as if in prayer.
“No!” she shouted, “You will watch and learn!”
“Yes, Mistress,” he agreed reluctantly.
Connor shifted uncomfortably, closing his legs tightly to protect himself. That slight movement enraged Aine further. She kicked his legs apart, to allow his penis to dangle freely. “Keep his legs spread, Colin!” she ordered. “These are mine, pet. You dare not trust me even now?” she raged at him and grasped his balls firmly. “If I so choose, you’ll take all twenty strikes here!” she fumed, tugging roughly. When she snapped twenty, Colin’s eyes grew wide but he did not dare speak in defense of his brother. Aine shoved Connor’s head down further, and pushed his feet forward to force his buttocks higher. He clenched his fists tightly together, unseen, behind Colin’s back. With a grin that bordered on evil, she pulled his penis backwards. “Hold his legs closed now, Colin.”
Colin swallowed hard, but complied, holding his older brother’s legs tightly between his knees, even knowing that he left his brother’s manhood open and vulnerable to her crop.
With no warning, she reared back and lay one vicious strike across both buttocks, low, very near the swell of his engorging balls.
“One, Mistress. Thank you,” Connor spat out, his voice muffled by the coverlets. Aine proceeded to lay into the strikes in rapid succession, raising perfectly aligned, thin red lines rising from her first up and over his buttocks, ten thin red, painful looking sripes. Dutifully, Connor withstood each strike, counting and thanking her respectfully after each. The muscles in Connor’s legs were twitching as he tried to remain steady.
“Long has it been since you were reprimanded thus,” Aine growled as she ran her cool left hand over his heated skin. “Perhaps I have failed you,” she bemoaned her own failure.
“No, Mistress!” Connor vowed vehemently. “No!”
“Time will tell, pet.” Aine fondled his red, swollen sacs, planning her next move. Connor pressed backwards as much as his position would allow, begging silently for more pleasurable contact.
A/N: Thanks to FairySlayer for the title, and thus compliance with the prompt. You rock, Ponyboy.