Cheshire (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ivoryandhorn) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
yuri_challenge2011-03-31 04:36 pm
ivoryandhorn) wrote in yuri_challenge2011-03-31 04:36 pm
Entry tags:
"Caught", Black★Rock Shooter, Dead Master/Black★Rock Shooter
Title: Caught
Creator:ivoryandhorn
Rating: hard R
Warning: noncon
Word Count: ~1200
Prompt: Dead Master/Black★Rock Shooter, ...I still remember / the smile when you tore me apart.
Teaser:
When she wakes, it is in chains. They pull her arms high above her head, one end anchored into the old stone walls, the other spiraling off into the shadows. More chains are wrapped about her ankles, loosely—a threat, but a lax one for now. Her body aches, and it feels like fire stabbing at her shoulders. Her Rock Cannon is nowhere to be found.
And Dead Master stands before her.
It feels as if they've done this before, and likely they have—theirs is a lonely world, given over to the eternal chase of the seeker after the lost. Did she catch her last time? Will she catch her again? Black★Rock Shooter tugs at the chains, testing their heft, and their jangle is muffled as if the air itself wraps tight around them, trapping them in place. In response, the chains around Black★Rock Shooter's legs tighten, coiling higher until they wrap around her knees, pulling them apart as if to welcome Dead Master's approach. She smiles, triumphant, and Black★Rock Shooter searches her green eyes for a signal, a sign. This time, there is none.
Her gaze tracks Dead Master as she kneels and reaches down between Black★Rock Shooter's legs. She tenses as Dead Master's gauntleted hand nears her, the tip of one finger sliding in through one leg of her shorts, making its way across. Black★Rock Shooter barely has time to squirm, the cold hard ridge pressed against her by the taut fabric, before Dead Master neatly tears it open. She tugs against the chains again as Dead Master smirks at her. Her hands rest delicately against Black★Rock Shooter's thighs, thumbs tracing her folds. They slide slowly upwards, one holding the fabric of Black★Rock Shooter's ruined shorts out of the way, the other lingering against a spot that makes her squirm despite herself. Dead Master's tongue darts out to lick her lips, a flash of pink, and the chains draw Black★Rock Shooter's legs further apart as she shifts back and leans down.
When Dead Master's mouth presses against her Black★Rock Shooter gasps; despite her name, Dead Master's breath is warm and her tongue is guided by a thousand years and a thousand lives together. In spite of herself Black★Rock Shooter feels warm through, blood beating in her veins as Dead Master's works her. Her hips twitch, towards or away she can't say, so away is what she thinks, the word fierce as a brand in her mind, and for all it is useless tries to shift away from Dead Master's mouth. The chains tighten in retaliation, drawing her arms even higher with a sharp yank as cold metal bites into the skin around her knees. Dead Master's hands move to her hips, blunt fingertips digging almost painfully into Black★Rock Shooter's rear, pinning her hips in place as she brings her teeth to bear. Dead Master does not bite, but the pressure is enough to remind Black★Rock Shooter of the possibility, the danger; a taunt to match the light teasing flicks of Dead Master's tongue. It builds to impossible heights, Black★Rock Shooter straining against her bonds in denial, but Dead Master pushes her advantage and unwillingly Black★Rock Shooter feels the pleasure crest into climax, clean white light painting the inside of her eyelids.
It leaves her sagging in her chains, shivering lightly as the sweat cools off her skin. They let her down gently, easing the strain in her shoulders as the floor takes the bulk of her weight once more. Dead Master stands up, shedding her gauntlets—chains swoop in, catching them with a muffled clink before they can break the silence against the floor—and shimmies out of her pants. Her legs long and lean, framed by the delicate ruffles of her skirt and her neat little pumps. The chains shift, dragging one of Black★Rock Shooter's legs inward for Dead Master to straddle Black★Rock Shooter's bare thigh. She smiles sweetly at Black★Rock Shooter, cups her cheek with one loving hand while the other reaches down to press two fingers inwards without preamble. Black★Rock Shooter thrashes in her chains at the sensation, she won't—not again—and more spiral out of the shadows, looping high around her thighs to hold them still. Dead Master presses her heel of her palm relentlessly against Black★Rock Shooter while her fingers work relentlessly. Black★Rock Shooter clenches around Dead Master's fingers in spite of herself, and that pulls a small gasp from Dead Master—she squirms against Black★Rock Shooter, skin on skin, already growing slick at the sight and sound of Black★Rock Shooter's growing arousal.
Her eyes stay fixed on Black★Rock Shooter, watching hungrily, the quarry who caught the hunter. The chains ripple lightly along Black★Rock Shooter's limbs, a metallic caress, and Dead Master's thighs tense around Black★Rock Shooter's as she rocks against it. Black★Rock Shooter can already feel her second climax approaching, despite herself; she aches for anything else—but then Dead Master leans up to seal her lips against Black★Rock Shooter's and—
—she can't remember which world this was, which self, but the depths of her memory offer up this moment nonetheless—the mingle of their breaths as they kissed and kissed and kissed, the way the transgression of it, of their hands on each other's breasts and thighs and backs almost undoes her though she wills it to last, not yet, not yet, and finally the two fingers that press against her, seeking entrance, and her thighs spreading in response as she gasped against into another's willing mouth, yes, please, yes—
—and she comes again with a sob, one muffled by Dead Master's mouth. Dead Master moans, her other hand hidden beneath her skirt and she works herself, fingers still sliding in and out of Black★Rock Shooter, almost too much, as she rocks faster against Black★Rock Shooter's thigh, against her own fingers, and she watches helplessly as Dead Master comes, still the most beautiful she had ever seen. She slumps against Black★Rock Shooter when she finishes, hands stilling, and presses a playful kiss against her neck before sitting back. Her white hands cup Black★Rock Shooter's face, leaning in for another kiss; Black★Rock Shooter makes no protest, not until Dead Master moves to deepen it. Then she tossed her head against Dead Master's grip, arms pulling determinedly at her chains. Dead Master sat back with a pout and, when Black★Rock Shooter refuses to still, snarls and threw her head back against the wall
When Black★Rock Shooter awakes she is alone. The chains are gone, and so is Dead Master. She climbs to her feet, slowly, body aching; when she reaches behind her head to assess the wound her gloved hand comes back sticky with half-dried blood. She rubs it away as she strides out into the castle's hollow center. Her ruined shorts flap against her with every step as she limps her way out into the still, empty air.
Somewhere out in the Other World's vast, broken reaches Dead Master waits, or perhaps flees, searching for another lonely heart to draw into her own, another heart to draw Black★Rock Shooter after her. That is who they are, who they were, who they will be, and as long as Dead Master runs, she will seek, even if the chase takes infinite steps as small as the one she takes now.
Creator:
ivoryandhornRating: hard R
Warning: noncon
Word Count: ~1200
Prompt: Dead Master/Black★Rock Shooter, ...I still remember / the smile when you tore me apart.
Teaser:
When she wakes, it is in chains. They pull her arms high above her head, one end anchored into the old stone walls, the other spiraling off into the shadows. More chains are wrapped about her ankles, loosely—a threat, but a lax one for now. Her body aches, and it feels like fire stabbing at her shoulders. Her Rock Cannon is nowhere to be found.
And Dead Master stands before her.
It feels as if they've done this before, and likely they have—theirs is a lonely world, given over to the eternal chase of the seeker after the lost. Did she catch her last time? Will she catch her again? Black★Rock Shooter tugs at the chains, testing their heft, and their jangle is muffled as if the air itself wraps tight around them, trapping them in place. In response, the chains around Black★Rock Shooter's legs tighten, coiling higher until they wrap around her knees, pulling them apart as if to welcome Dead Master's approach. She smiles, triumphant, and Black★Rock Shooter searches her green eyes for a signal, a sign. This time, there is none.
Her gaze tracks Dead Master as she kneels and reaches down between Black★Rock Shooter's legs. She tenses as Dead Master's gauntleted hand nears her, the tip of one finger sliding in through one leg of her shorts, making its way across. Black★Rock Shooter barely has time to squirm, the cold hard ridge pressed against her by the taut fabric, before Dead Master neatly tears it open. She tugs against the chains again as Dead Master smirks at her. Her hands rest delicately against Black★Rock Shooter's thighs, thumbs tracing her folds. They slide slowly upwards, one holding the fabric of Black★Rock Shooter's ruined shorts out of the way, the other lingering against a spot that makes her squirm despite herself. Dead Master's tongue darts out to lick her lips, a flash of pink, and the chains draw Black★Rock Shooter's legs further apart as she shifts back and leans down.
When Dead Master's mouth presses against her Black★Rock Shooter gasps; despite her name, Dead Master's breath is warm and her tongue is guided by a thousand years and a thousand lives together. In spite of herself Black★Rock Shooter feels warm through, blood beating in her veins as Dead Master's works her. Her hips twitch, towards or away she can't say, so away is what she thinks, the word fierce as a brand in her mind, and for all it is useless tries to shift away from Dead Master's mouth. The chains tighten in retaliation, drawing her arms even higher with a sharp yank as cold metal bites into the skin around her knees. Dead Master's hands move to her hips, blunt fingertips digging almost painfully into Black★Rock Shooter's rear, pinning her hips in place as she brings her teeth to bear. Dead Master does not bite, but the pressure is enough to remind Black★Rock Shooter of the possibility, the danger; a taunt to match the light teasing flicks of Dead Master's tongue. It builds to impossible heights, Black★Rock Shooter straining against her bonds in denial, but Dead Master pushes her advantage and unwillingly Black★Rock Shooter feels the pleasure crest into climax, clean white light painting the inside of her eyelids.
It leaves her sagging in her chains, shivering lightly as the sweat cools off her skin. They let her down gently, easing the strain in her shoulders as the floor takes the bulk of her weight once more. Dead Master stands up, shedding her gauntlets—chains swoop in, catching them with a muffled clink before they can break the silence against the floor—and shimmies out of her pants. Her legs long and lean, framed by the delicate ruffles of her skirt and her neat little pumps. The chains shift, dragging one of Black★Rock Shooter's legs inward for Dead Master to straddle Black★Rock Shooter's bare thigh. She smiles sweetly at Black★Rock Shooter, cups her cheek with one loving hand while the other reaches down to press two fingers inwards without preamble. Black★Rock Shooter thrashes in her chains at the sensation, she won't—not again—and more spiral out of the shadows, looping high around her thighs to hold them still. Dead Master presses her heel of her palm relentlessly against Black★Rock Shooter while her fingers work relentlessly. Black★Rock Shooter clenches around Dead Master's fingers in spite of herself, and that pulls a small gasp from Dead Master—she squirms against Black★Rock Shooter, skin on skin, already growing slick at the sight and sound of Black★Rock Shooter's growing arousal.
Her eyes stay fixed on Black★Rock Shooter, watching hungrily, the quarry who caught the hunter. The chains ripple lightly along Black★Rock Shooter's limbs, a metallic caress, and Dead Master's thighs tense around Black★Rock Shooter's as she rocks against it. Black★Rock Shooter can already feel her second climax approaching, despite herself; she aches for anything else—but then Dead Master leans up to seal her lips against Black★Rock Shooter's and—
—she can't remember which world this was, which self, but the depths of her memory offer up this moment nonetheless—the mingle of their breaths as they kissed and kissed and kissed, the way the transgression of it, of their hands on each other's breasts and thighs and backs almost undoes her though she wills it to last, not yet, not yet, and finally the two fingers that press against her, seeking entrance, and her thighs spreading in response as she gasped against into another's willing mouth, yes, please, yes—
—and she comes again with a sob, one muffled by Dead Master's mouth. Dead Master moans, her other hand hidden beneath her skirt and she works herself, fingers still sliding in and out of Black★Rock Shooter, almost too much, as she rocks faster against Black★Rock Shooter's thigh, against her own fingers, and she watches helplessly as Dead Master comes, still the most beautiful she had ever seen. She slumps against Black★Rock Shooter when she finishes, hands stilling, and presses a playful kiss against her neck before sitting back. Her white hands cup Black★Rock Shooter's face, leaning in for another kiss; Black★Rock Shooter makes no protest, not until Dead Master moves to deepen it. Then she tossed her head against Dead Master's grip, arms pulling determinedly at her chains. Dead Master sat back with a pout and, when Black★Rock Shooter refuses to still, snarls and threw her head back against the wall
When Black★Rock Shooter awakes she is alone. The chains are gone, and so is Dead Master. She climbs to her feet, slowly, body aching; when she reaches behind her head to assess the wound her gloved hand comes back sticky with half-dried blood. She rubs it away as she strides out into the castle's hollow center. Her ruined shorts flap against her with every step as she limps her way out into the still, empty air.
Somewhere out in the Other World's vast, broken reaches Dead Master waits, or perhaps flees, searching for another lonely heart to draw into her own, another heart to draw Black★Rock Shooter after her. That is who they are, who they were, who they will be, and as long as Dead Master runs, she will seek, even if the chase takes infinite steps as small as the one she takes now.