[Hayame thought of that night perhaps far more than she should.
To Akua, to Set... She supposes it was different, though she certainly never had dared to ask. She hadn't even been able to speak to them the next morning, slipping away as the sun rose like a secret lover in the stories. But they... they were familiar with hedonism in ways she had never been allowed to be, never even known how to conceive. She would not be surprised if they were more than experienced in... coming together in such a way. Such things were likely relatively normal for them. Perhaps, she sometimes thought, with a strange and unidentifiable sort of feeling she wasn't willing or even that capable to explore... Perhaps it had just been a passingly pleasurable night of charity.
But to her it had been everything. Proof that the day after doing something she had always been taught would ruin her that the sun would still rise and find her mostly the same person. An unbinding, throwing away the precious thing she had protected for so long just for the sake of honor and coins in the hand of the man that had bred, raised, and owned her. Lessons she would never have learned or even had anyone to ask for, in the pleasure a woman was capable of receiving if she allowed it, of giving if given freely. Understanding that her experiences, the unwilling mount of a stud in the breeding stall or the sullen opening of a mouth at the whim of a human master, those weren't... those weren't the only realistic options for her any longer.
Realization that no matter how she tried not to, how she feared it would open her up to more hurt, more disappointment... She wanted it. Shamefully craved it. The warm embrace of arms that seemed to want to hold her close. The soft press of lips belonging to someone that cared for her, that would whisper calming or rousing things into her ear. The hot, coiling pulse of having someone to sate her heats so that she didn't need to suffer alone. Perhaps even more importantly having someone that... that even when she wasn't in heat might...
What she had now, even though it was hidden and guarded like a guilty secret... She wouldn't have it if she had not had that night.]
Ah... It is. It's important...
[Akua had urged her to take, to make known her desires, to speak, to act, and even though Hayame tries to convince herself that she wasn't hungry, she wasn't thrumming with need, they had to think about the Oracle... Before she even realizes what she's doing, one of her hands moves in mirror to the other woman's and brushes over the burgundy lace that half-covered dark skin. Akua always wore... such impractical, fancy garments. It is so soft, so delicate, she is just appraising the textile that is all, her fingers finding the place at the sides where the dress was simply open to bare flesh, (that, too, there were always... always parts missing...), slipping inside around that edge to rub the lace between her fingers-
And Akua will find that the dun hair she smooths her palm along is softer, thicker than it was during the Exalt Oracle's trial. Winter was coming to Alenroux, and Hayame's winter coat is beginning to grow in. Her hide trembles and twitches in response to the slightest of touch along the path of touch, and her tail twitches. The one visible eye that had been so sullen and hateful when the sorceress had come to call to inspect the sickly green orb beneath her eyepatch is dazed with longing. She swallows, knowing if there was just some sort of excuse, just enough of one-]
no subject
To Akua, to Set... She supposes it was different, though she certainly never had dared to ask. She hadn't even been able to speak to them the next morning, slipping away as the sun rose like a secret lover in the stories. But they... they were familiar with hedonism in ways she had never been allowed to be, never even known how to conceive. She would not be surprised if they were more than experienced in... coming together in such a way. Such things were likely relatively normal for them. Perhaps, she sometimes thought, with a strange and unidentifiable sort of feeling she wasn't willing or even that capable to explore... Perhaps it had just been a passingly pleasurable night of charity.
But to her it had been everything. Proof that the day after doing something she had always been taught would ruin her that the sun would still rise and find her mostly the same person. An unbinding, throwing away the precious thing she had protected for so long just for the sake of honor and coins in the hand of the man that had bred, raised, and owned her. Lessons she would never have learned or even had anyone to ask for, in the pleasure a woman was capable of receiving if she allowed it, of giving if given freely. Understanding that her experiences, the unwilling mount of a stud in the breeding stall or the sullen opening of a mouth at the whim of a human master, those weren't... those weren't the only realistic options for her any longer.
Realization that no matter how she tried not to, how she feared it would open her up to more hurt, more disappointment... She wanted it. Shamefully craved it. The warm embrace of arms that seemed to want to hold her close. The soft press of lips belonging to someone that cared for her, that would whisper calming or rousing things into her ear. The hot, coiling pulse of having someone to sate her heats so that she didn't need to suffer alone. Perhaps even more importantly having someone that... that even when she wasn't in heat might...
What she had now, even though it was hidden and guarded like a guilty secret... She wouldn't have it if she had not had that night.]
Ah... It is. It's important...
[Akua had urged her to take, to make known her desires, to speak, to act, and even though Hayame tries to convince herself that she wasn't hungry, she wasn't thrumming with need, they had to think about the Oracle... Before she even realizes what she's doing, one of her hands moves in mirror to the other woman's and brushes over the burgundy lace that half-covered dark skin. Akua always wore... such impractical, fancy garments. It is so soft, so delicate, she is just appraising the textile that is all, her fingers finding the place at the sides where the dress was simply open to bare flesh, (that, too, there were always... always parts missing...), slipping inside around that edge to rub the lace between her fingers-
And Akua will find that the dun hair she smooths her palm along is softer, thicker than it was during the Exalt Oracle's trial. Winter was coming to Alenroux, and Hayame's winter coat is beginning to grow in. Her hide trembles and twitches in response to the slightest of touch along the path of touch, and her tail twitches. The one visible eye that had been so sullen and hateful when the sorceress had come to call to inspect the sickly green orb beneath her eyepatch is dazed with longing. She swallows, knowing if there was just some sort of excuse, just enough of one-]
... Just a short time... ?
[Of course. Naturally. Surely?]