[Open] in the merry summer months

[okayimin]

WHO: Sawbones, Jenny Lou, Poesia and YOU
WHAT: a catch all
WHEN: throughout Solace, into whatever the next month is
WHERE: All over
NOTES: light cw for animal dissection for medical purposes in one of Sawbones' prompts, additional nsfw headers in Poesia's threads. gimme that action spam. if u want a closed starter hmu!

Comments

[doneisdone]

Good girl.

[Another crack of the cane against Poesia's thighs, just to keep her alert. Then, it's set aside, and another crate is dragged over for Teren to sit on it, behind her.

She can't expect much of her knees, these days.

Methodically, the tip of the knife begins to trace over the existing welts: never enough to break the skin, but perhaps enough to scratch, trailing always from outside in and stopping just short of her opening.]

Be still, [Teren purrs.]

[bloodandsand]

[ The sting of the cane actually pushes a soft cry out of her, it trailed off into a growling little whine as the tip of the knife traced her skin. Now here was a delight. The knowing that she could snap this woman's neck in a moment, but giving over to obedience was it's own thrill that sweetened the faint scratch of the knife blade.

She stays as still as she can, but it's clearly a struggle. She's a wiggler. ]

[doneisdone]

[It may be true these days, even if it wasn't always. Teren has slowed down; first the full-body injury, then the grippe. This entire year has been a recovery period for her, even if she might've, in her youth, given Poesia a run for her money.

But on some instinctive level, she knows it, and it makes this moment all the sweeter.

A finger slips in, then two. The knife's blade comes to rest where left thigh meets buttock, pressing lightly, ready to sink its point into flesh that might relax back into her touch.

And her touch is clearly one of experience, fingers long and bony and driven by intent.]

[bloodandsand]

[ She almost leans back into the fingers, chasing her pleasure, but the sting of the knife stops. It pulls a whine out of her, now that she's not able to move as she pleases. ]

Seeer! [ She casts another pouting look back at Terren. ]

[doneisdone]

[A little grin; her fingers come out, then return. The knife remains.]

Whining gets you nothing.

[However, it clearly does, as her ministrations continue. It's just on her terms, not Poesia's.]