Glamour Lust fic, untitled part 4
Apr. 19th, 2003 12:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jamjarpart 4
(note: The name Mara means bitter, as in "Call me not Naomi [meaning = pleasantness, beautiful], call me Mara [meaning = bitterness] : for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me. Ruth 1:19-21
Because Mark is not a Marcia, of a Stacey, the only other feminised names that I could think of
Also, I've figured out what's so difficult about writing Mark. he doesn't use diminutives, nick-names or endearments. He even calls Davy by his full name, which frankly, I think he only does to be difficult.)
Davy watched Mark flirt with the blond man at the bar with the grim fascination of a passer-by looking at a car-crash, only grateful that he was too far away to hear what they were saying. Mark said something to the man, took a deep breath and said something else, leaning in to touch the man's arm and Davy had seen enough seccubae at work to realise how lethal that touch could be. Mark said something else and the man looked about to object, but Mark bent over and whispered something in his ear, one hand resting lightly on his shoulder, the other disappearing briefly down the front of his jeans. The man's knees buckled and he went down, kneeling at her side. Mark stroked his head, his hand lingering at the back of his neck while he said something that made the man close his eyes and look absurdly grateful. Davy turned to face Iolanthe.
"We've got to get him changed back soon."
"This is really freaking you out, huh?"
Davy looked sick. "It's just, my head knows it's Mark, but it doesn't feel like him."
Iolanthe looked sympathetic and amused. "Poor baby. No glamour and breasts must really make a difference, huh?"
Davy shuddered. "I could take the change in looks and gender, but you know, he doesn't smell like Mark. He smells like..." His whole body twitched and he fell forwards to bang his head on the table. Iolanthe caught him one hand and drew him into a hug. Davy took a deep breath and let Io- the feel of her, her scent, hr glamour, her basic Iolanthe-ness - wash over him.
"Like an attractive human woman, I'm guessing." She cradled him closer as Davy whimpered. Poor baby. She was going to tease him about this later, but right now he needed a little comfort. "I'm going to try and reach Bonnie, okay? You stay here and keep an eye on your brother." She glanced over and saw Mark was flirting with a male lust faerie, who looked enough like Iolaus to make her want to join Davy in shuddering. Mark was disturbingly hot as a woman. Normally, any attraction she might feel to Mark's body was instantly squashed by his personality, by all the things she associated that body with. Even though she knew better than anyone that it was still the same person, it was hard to look at the body and not have to consciously remind herself that this was not someone to lust on.
"Io?" Davy said, catching her attention. She shook her head slightly, then gave into the ever-present urge to kiss him. Davy's combination of love and desire was enough to wipe out any unpleasantness from her mind. And now she really didn't want to leave hi, but the sake of all their sanities she had to try and get Bonnie to take off what she'd done to Mark. "I'm going. Watch out for Mark." Davy started to turn to look and she caught his head in her hands before he could twist round and see Mark, apparently snacking on the incubus's neck while he groped her breasts. "Only sweetie? Try and do it without looking."
~ ~ ~
He was pretty and while there wasn't any real need for it -none of the mixture of desire and appetite he had normally- the sight of an exposed neck still gave him pleasure. The lovely lust fae exposing it was finding himself less in control than he normally was. Markkas laughed, and let his arms go round the incubus's neck, making sure that his bracelets were touching skin. Really, it almost wasn't necessary to have telepathy when he already knew what they were thinking, when he could put thoughts into their heads with such ease. And the lust faerie had much less experience dealing with Markkas's lust than Markkas had. He looked almost drowned in it, and he kept pressing forwards for another taste, urged on by the burn of iron at the back of his neck.
He bit down, relying on the fae being too distracted to pull away. Human teeth weren't as sharp as his own, but they weren't blunt either. Carnivore's teeth at the front, designed to bite into meat like the lovely little bit of flesh in front of him. The blood didn't taste anything like as good- coppery and real, but with none of the intensity it normally carried- but the feeling of power was enough to compensate. Even like this, he forced the world to bend to his will. He could feel the fae flinching from the iron, from the bite, and could feel that he wouldn't couldn't pull away.
"Your bracelets are burning me," the fae said. "Take them off," with enough glamour that if Mark hadn't been expecting it, hadn't had iron against his skin, he would have obeyed.
Instead he lifted his head up and looked the fae in the eye, blood on his mouth looking like he'd cut his lip. "Try that again and more than my bracelets will burn you. Behave or I leave, and you wouldn't like that, would you?" The incubus tightened his grip on Mark's shoulder and turned up the glamour a notch or ten. Mark hissed as lust hit him, hit Nathan at his feet and by the looks of it, infected most of the people in the bar. He closed his eyes, detached one arm from the incubus's neck, and let the bracelet slip off his wrist. Even with his eyes closed, he could see the incubus smirk at having got him to do that.
And then he pressed the bracelet against the incubus's bare chest, just above the heart, and dragged the incubus down for a kiss.
"I could hold a horseshoe against your heart while I kissed you," he breathed into his prey's ear, "and you wouldn't even notice, let alone care, until I took my mouth away from you." He smiled. "And you know why? Because I'm just that good."
There was a look in the incubus's eyes, like he knew Mark was telling the truth. Mark smiled. The incubus wasn't in Aerael's league, but then few were, and part of him felt that it was probably a good idea to get some practice in. His previous experience with Iolaus had been informative, but at the same time he'd been holding so much of himself back. This was an opportunity to work out some of his less sociable appetites, get some practice holding a whip in his human hand, before Aerael managed to find him again.
"Hey, you know the rules," the bar man said, interrupting the tableau. He was frowning at the incubus. "No big glamour in here. I don't want to lose my license 'cause some secubus got hungry and turned my place into an orgy."
"I'm sorry," the incubus said, shaking his head to clear it. "I got carried away." He frowned at the woman, still unsure of how he lost control so easily. She was just standing there, looking at him, her lust flavouring the air with a tint of sadism as bitter as her name. He's never gone in for that kind of thing before, but the pull of desire from this woman was incredible, almost addictive.
Mark was drunk, partly on the sense of his own power, but mostly on alcohol. He had a pretty enough man at his feet and another standing opposite, and he just had to decide what to do with them. Sex was a given, since this body seemed to demand it as much as his own, but he had so many options along with it. He could set the incubus against the human, relying on the incubus's glamour to hold him while Mark used knife and whip. He could chain the incubus to his bed, on his back or maybe on his knees, and Mark could use have the human go down on him, lying next to the incubus, close enough to feed his hunger but not his desire.
He looked down at the boy- Nathan?- and bent down to give him a proper kiss while the incubus collected himself enough for Mark to break him down again. Nathan's head was bent at what was probably a painful angle in order to let Mark have full access to his mouth, so Mark decided a little reward was in order. He brought his hand around to Nathan's throat, pressing down for a moment, not enough to cut off the air, but enough so the threat of it was obvious. It felt warm against his palm and he could feel the pulse beating against his skin. His mouth teased Nathan, forcing him to try and press up to deepen the kiss, only to come up against Mark's unmoving hand on his throat.
Mark pulled away. Nathan looked at him with lost eyes. "Mara, please," he said desperately.
Mark stroked his head, digging his nails in a little and letting them bite in enough to leave crescents on the back of Nathan's neck. "Calm down," he said. He looked at the incubus. "So, did you enjoy that as much as I did?" he asked, "Or should I try for seconds."
The incubus shook his head in amazement. The human at Mara's feet was a mixture of confusion and lust, utterly focussed on her, and he could feel those same emotions in himself. "Bitch," he said, half in amusement and half in respect.
She nodded like a queen accepting a compliment. "A fair assessment," she said.
~ ~ ~
"Bitch" was probably not intended as an insult and was definitely accurate, so Mark nodded his head as gracious as any court sidhe lady accepting the praise that was her due. "A fair assessment," he said, while making a mental note to repay the incubus for it later. He raised a hand to the bite mark on the incubus's shoulder, touched the drying blood and brought it to his lips. "Why, does that put you off?"
The incubus laughed and Mark was reminded of Aerael, although the incubus resembled Iolaus more. He suddenly felt impatient, wanting more, now. His mood spread to the incubus, and he reached forwards to kiss Mark. Mark put one hand on his shoulder, partly to keep him away mostly so his fingers could spread out and touch the bite mark, his mark, while he gave the man light, punishing kisses.
He felt a strong arm around his middle and was pulled away, arms still reaching for the incubus, only to be held almost a foot off the ground, the one arm around him like an iron girder, holding him like a squirming, six-year old. He reacted instantly, digging in with his nails and kicking back with his heels, any instinctive fear completely overwhelmed by his outrage at being held like this. Some part of his mind registered a familiarity about the invader, even before he spoke.
"Mine," Aerael told the other incubus. "Find your own meal-ticket."
tbc.
(note: The name Mara means bitter, as in "Call me not Naomi [meaning = pleasantness, beautiful], call me Mara [meaning = bitterness] : for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me. Ruth 1:19-21
Because Mark is not a Marcia, of a Stacey, the only other feminised names that I could think of
Also, I've figured out what's so difficult about writing Mark. he doesn't use diminutives, nick-names or endearments. He even calls Davy by his full name, which frankly, I think he only does to be difficult.)
Davy watched Mark flirt with the blond man at the bar with the grim fascination of a passer-by looking at a car-crash, only grateful that he was too far away to hear what they were saying. Mark said something to the man, took a deep breath and said something else, leaning in to touch the man's arm and Davy had seen enough seccubae at work to realise how lethal that touch could be. Mark said something else and the man looked about to object, but Mark bent over and whispered something in his ear, one hand resting lightly on his shoulder, the other disappearing briefly down the front of his jeans. The man's knees buckled and he went down, kneeling at her side. Mark stroked his head, his hand lingering at the back of his neck while he said something that made the man close his eyes and look absurdly grateful. Davy turned to face Iolanthe.
"We've got to get him changed back soon."
"This is really freaking you out, huh?"
Davy looked sick. "It's just, my head knows it's Mark, but it doesn't feel like him."
Iolanthe looked sympathetic and amused. "Poor baby. No glamour and breasts must really make a difference, huh?"
Davy shuddered. "I could take the change in looks and gender, but you know, he doesn't smell like Mark. He smells like..." His whole body twitched and he fell forwards to bang his head on the table. Iolanthe caught him one hand and drew him into a hug. Davy took a deep breath and let Io- the feel of her, her scent, hr glamour, her basic Iolanthe-ness - wash over him.
"Like an attractive human woman, I'm guessing." She cradled him closer as Davy whimpered. Poor baby. She was going to tease him about this later, but right now he needed a little comfort. "I'm going to try and reach Bonnie, okay? You stay here and keep an eye on your brother." She glanced over and saw Mark was flirting with a male lust faerie, who looked enough like Iolaus to make her want to join Davy in shuddering. Mark was disturbingly hot as a woman. Normally, any attraction she might feel to Mark's body was instantly squashed by his personality, by all the things she associated that body with. Even though she knew better than anyone that it was still the same person, it was hard to look at the body and not have to consciously remind herself that this was not someone to lust on.
"Io?" Davy said, catching her attention. She shook her head slightly, then gave into the ever-present urge to kiss him. Davy's combination of love and desire was enough to wipe out any unpleasantness from her mind. And now she really didn't want to leave hi, but the sake of all their sanities she had to try and get Bonnie to take off what she'd done to Mark. "I'm going. Watch out for Mark." Davy started to turn to look and she caught his head in her hands before he could twist round and see Mark, apparently snacking on the incubus's neck while he groped her breasts. "Only sweetie? Try and do it without looking."
~ ~ ~
He was pretty and while there wasn't any real need for it -none of the mixture of desire and appetite he had normally- the sight of an exposed neck still gave him pleasure. The lovely lust fae exposing it was finding himself less in control than he normally was. Markkas laughed, and let his arms go round the incubus's neck, making sure that his bracelets were touching skin. Really, it almost wasn't necessary to have telepathy when he already knew what they were thinking, when he could put thoughts into their heads with such ease. And the lust faerie had much less experience dealing with Markkas's lust than Markkas had. He looked almost drowned in it, and he kept pressing forwards for another taste, urged on by the burn of iron at the back of his neck.
He bit down, relying on the fae being too distracted to pull away. Human teeth weren't as sharp as his own, but they weren't blunt either. Carnivore's teeth at the front, designed to bite into meat like the lovely little bit of flesh in front of him. The blood didn't taste anything like as good- coppery and real, but with none of the intensity it normally carried- but the feeling of power was enough to compensate. Even like this, he forced the world to bend to his will. He could feel the fae flinching from the iron, from the bite, and could feel that he wouldn't couldn't pull away.
"Your bracelets are burning me," the fae said. "Take them off," with enough glamour that if Mark hadn't been expecting it, hadn't had iron against his skin, he would have obeyed.
Instead he lifted his head up and looked the fae in the eye, blood on his mouth looking like he'd cut his lip. "Try that again and more than my bracelets will burn you. Behave or I leave, and you wouldn't like that, would you?" The incubus tightened his grip on Mark's shoulder and turned up the glamour a notch or ten. Mark hissed as lust hit him, hit Nathan at his feet and by the looks of it, infected most of the people in the bar. He closed his eyes, detached one arm from the incubus's neck, and let the bracelet slip off his wrist. Even with his eyes closed, he could see the incubus smirk at having got him to do that.
And then he pressed the bracelet against the incubus's bare chest, just above the heart, and dragged the incubus down for a kiss.
"I could hold a horseshoe against your heart while I kissed you," he breathed into his prey's ear, "and you wouldn't even notice, let alone care, until I took my mouth away from you." He smiled. "And you know why? Because I'm just that good."
There was a look in the incubus's eyes, like he knew Mark was telling the truth. Mark smiled. The incubus wasn't in Aerael's league, but then few were, and part of him felt that it was probably a good idea to get some practice in. His previous experience with Iolaus had been informative, but at the same time he'd been holding so much of himself back. This was an opportunity to work out some of his less sociable appetites, get some practice holding a whip in his human hand, before Aerael managed to find him again.
"Hey, you know the rules," the bar man said, interrupting the tableau. He was frowning at the incubus. "No big glamour in here. I don't want to lose my license 'cause some secubus got hungry and turned my place into an orgy."
"I'm sorry," the incubus said, shaking his head to clear it. "I got carried away." He frowned at the woman, still unsure of how he lost control so easily. She was just standing there, looking at him, her lust flavouring the air with a tint of sadism as bitter as her name. He's never gone in for that kind of thing before, but the pull of desire from this woman was incredible, almost addictive.
Mark was drunk, partly on the sense of his own power, but mostly on alcohol. He had a pretty enough man at his feet and another standing opposite, and he just had to decide what to do with them. Sex was a given, since this body seemed to demand it as much as his own, but he had so many options along with it. He could set the incubus against the human, relying on the incubus's glamour to hold him while Mark used knife and whip. He could chain the incubus to his bed, on his back or maybe on his knees, and Mark could use have the human go down on him, lying next to the incubus, close enough to feed his hunger but not his desire.
He looked down at the boy- Nathan?- and bent down to give him a proper kiss while the incubus collected himself enough for Mark to break him down again. Nathan's head was bent at what was probably a painful angle in order to let Mark have full access to his mouth, so Mark decided a little reward was in order. He brought his hand around to Nathan's throat, pressing down for a moment, not enough to cut off the air, but enough so the threat of it was obvious. It felt warm against his palm and he could feel the pulse beating against his skin. His mouth teased Nathan, forcing him to try and press up to deepen the kiss, only to come up against Mark's unmoving hand on his throat.
Mark pulled away. Nathan looked at him with lost eyes. "Mara, please," he said desperately.
Mark stroked his head, digging his nails in a little and letting them bite in enough to leave crescents on the back of Nathan's neck. "Calm down," he said. He looked at the incubus. "So, did you enjoy that as much as I did?" he asked, "Or should I try for seconds."
The incubus shook his head in amazement. The human at Mara's feet was a mixture of confusion and lust, utterly focussed on her, and he could feel those same emotions in himself. "Bitch," he said, half in amusement and half in respect.
She nodded like a queen accepting a compliment. "A fair assessment," she said.
~ ~ ~
"Bitch" was probably not intended as an insult and was definitely accurate, so Mark nodded his head as gracious as any court sidhe lady accepting the praise that was her due. "A fair assessment," he said, while making a mental note to repay the incubus for it later. He raised a hand to the bite mark on the incubus's shoulder, touched the drying blood and brought it to his lips. "Why, does that put you off?"
The incubus laughed and Mark was reminded of Aerael, although the incubus resembled Iolaus more. He suddenly felt impatient, wanting more, now. His mood spread to the incubus, and he reached forwards to kiss Mark. Mark put one hand on his shoulder, partly to keep him away mostly so his fingers could spread out and touch the bite mark, his mark, while he gave the man light, punishing kisses.
He felt a strong arm around his middle and was pulled away, arms still reaching for the incubus, only to be held almost a foot off the ground, the one arm around him like an iron girder, holding him like a squirming, six-year old. He reacted instantly, digging in with his nails and kicking back with his heels, any instinctive fear completely overwhelmed by his outrage at being held like this. Some part of his mind registered a familiarity about the invader, even before he spoke.
"Mine," Aerael told the other incubus. "Find your own meal-ticket."
tbc.
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Date: 2003-04-19 02:13 pm (UTC)and the poor incubus. Not only is he going to get it from Aerael, he probably lost his meal. but then again... is it worth being with Mark? *pause* nah.