Maculate Conception (Adult Content)

[Dawn Shadowsbane]

(( March 31, 2011. ))

The lakeside. The Glen. Smaller ponds ran through the forest. He'd spent the last fourteen hours at one of them, sitting in a clearing. His physical changes had reached their peak. The mask had been able to keep up, but had split along the line of his jaw. It made him look truly terrifying, the symbiotic tendrils of the fabric licking and lapping at his teeth whenever he opened his mouth to reveal rows upon rows of needles and razorblades. The two prominent lower fangs jutted up, silver in the bright moonlight.

His horns had curved over his head, and his wings were fresh and new, massive leathery claws capable of propelling him into the air. Not the tattered monstrosities that they had resembled before this debacle had taken place, no, the deterioration of time hadn't taken them back yet. They were captured in their previous state for now. His tail lashed out behind him, thrashing at the ground when he grew impatient, while the countless black slitted pupils on his right eye contracted and dilated as he looked all about. The moments passed, and he lowered his head to the water to drink.

There had been an interesting change in Dawn the last few days as well; the beginning threads of obsession, or even compulsion, etched their way through her veins, trawling outward like a spider upon the fine gossamer silk of its web. That pulsing and angry drug sent her out this night, seeking her prey - the prey that was just as often her predator. She stalked, she scented, she prowled ... and finally she found him, at the Glen's lake. She did not see him yet; she merely smelled him, wild and fresh.

She stepped forward, into that beam of early spring night’s cool illumination. A figure across the lake; the scent drifted from there. His head was down, though, and the softness of the dark proved a filter that dulled edges of wings and horns. “Hello, dear,” she practically purred in the making herself known, words carrying across that lake. “I’ve come to play.”

His head lifted and turned towards her, and his wings spread slightly upwards in a momentary display of predatory dominance. When he registered her, he remained relatively still. "Dawn." His voice was rife with Abyssal and Draconic intonation, darkening and suffusing his voice with power and depth that even its usual eeriness didn't seem to capture.

"Indeed," she drawled. The dragon-elf stepped further into the gentle kiss of night, the dim glow casting a faint blue tint to her usually-pale skin. Skin it was, too, for she wore no protective clothes. Only a few steps before she stopped, soft and delicate hands settling at her hips, fingers curling around her frame. Those pale violet wings, darkened by the night, mantled, then relaxed loosely behind her. "Will you not come to greet me properly?" A well-sculpted brow lifted in the question; the asking was both in the verbal question and in the non-verbal confusion over the change in tone from the other.

The spaces in between the Nightmare’s words were picked up by a low, growling thrum. It seemed to burn the skin, and yet suck the warmth from the world all at once. "Tonight, you find true Fear. Step forth, if you dare." The sound was unmistakable. He was smiling, and it was horrible.

A subtle, slight shiver coursed up her bare back. "I dare, and I thrill in it." A momentary hitch of breath, her pleasure and excitement in the very idea plain on her body, in the tightening of her stomach. Her own scent betrayed her; she spoke truth. Fear and anticipation mingled in the pheromones she projected.

She took a single step forward; one step that answered his call but still defied him, challenged him to cross the expanse of lake for her. "Come and take me," she offered - or was it a call of rebellion? Between them there was the fact they both knew; he was greater than she. That, she presumed, was the very thing that made their deadly dance - well, game, really - so exhilarating and enthralling.

[Dawn Shadowsbane]

The monstrosity's jaws pried open, and a cry resonated across the lake as his scales bristled. The water shook, his wings spread and his tail curled up into the air behind him. When the chemicals his skin released ignited upon touching the air, his entire body was lit with blue flame. The chemical fire burned so hot that the ground around his feet was glassed, not permitting fire to spread anywhere. It was then that his form was illuminated fully, and the extent of just how dangerous he was could be seen. Of course, he gave her only moments to consider his horrible beauty before he launched into the air, over the lake.

Dawn gave an audible gasp at the sudden revelation before her; her body angled sharply in the defensive step back her left foot took. "Oh good Goddess," she breathed as red-gold eyes, rounded wide, remained fixated on the beast all-too-swiftly approaching. The heat from him (or perhaps it was the heat of her reaction to him) brought to the surface of her creamy flesh a light sheen of moisture from cheek to toe. Once more her wings spread wide, lifted and framing her body behind the darkened violet of the leathery skin.

Buds of hard, dark flesh tightened on her chest, a new smell heavy with musk entered the dwindling air between them. "You .... are ... beautiful." She dashed wet tongue over her lips, then slowly made an effort to recover from the unbidden response, unwelcome in its overtness and strength.

The fire sputtered out when he was halfway across the lake, and moments later Skid slammed into Dawn and planted her on her back upon the ground. His hands, more like front legs at this point, pinned her down by the shoulders while his hind legs held her down by the ankles. His snout lowered, and drew down across her body while he drew in her scent; done, of course, in the manner of a lion considering a baby zebra before killing it. The low, diabolical thrum continued until he brought his face back up to hers, the nightmare eye blinking and focusing on her in more ways than one could imagine. "That scent... Your fear mingles beautifully with that scent." With that, his neck snapped back and his jaws closed around her midsection. With one great wing beat, he rose from the ground and hurled her to the side, along the shoreline. He was playing with her.

In the blink of an eye she found herself crumpled on the ground, gasping again - but this time a panting catch of breath from the pain. It was the blink of an eye in which she couldn't react ... at least consciously. Slammed into the ground, bound by the heat of his clawed grasp, an upward arch of her back ripped a moan from her throat, a verbalization of the mingled pain, pleasure and terror that radiated from her. Pearls of liquid clung to the rubied flesh at the apex of her thighs, spotlighting its unbidden quiver. "Oh..." she sighed, bringing hands down underneath her in an effort to push her torso off the ground. Wings hung limply about her, and red-gold eyes tilted up and down the line, toward him.

[Dawn Shadowsbane]

But a moment later, less time than she’d thought, she recovered enough to hold herself up. Her right hand travelled from the still-frigid dirt and scraped over her thigh, brushing the dust from scraped palm. Up the tender, begging flesh her index and middle fingers pressed together, she turned her knee off the ground and spread, revealing herself; her skin glistening in the moonlight. Fingers grazed over her body fleetingly as she attempted to lock gazes with him. For the moment, however, she did not gain her footing. She was playing with him too, in her own way.

His eye took in all that she was as she displayed herself before him, and the thrum deepened into a growl. He stalked towards her, then. Muscles twitched and shifted against one another beneath the hide and scales that glistened in the moonlight, and his wings flared out at his sides. He closed in, and the tip of his snout trailed up her body, from the inside of knee to the outside of neck. When he reached that final crook between neck and shoulder, the tender muscle, he stopped. A hand raised, and pressed her back towards the ground again. But as she began to lean back, his jaws snapped open and shut over her shoulder, and he whipped her in a near complete circle before hurling her across the clearing yet again, this time to crash just barely into the shallows, a few inches of water and then the strange blackened sand that this particular, unusual lake seemed to be filled with.

For the one perfect moment she was still, motionless in allowing him to do as he willed, to take in her visceral reaction to him. The slight pant of her breath, wide eyes, and heave of her full chest were the only indicator of the fear. Pinpricks, thin lines of blood marred her once-flawless skin where his fangs entered her. She leaned back in time with his silent command, and once more she found herself suddenly aloft. The flight was short, tumbling, uncontrolled, and she landed with a hard crunch. Her wings, of course, were always the first victims in their battles, it seemed, and once more the ridges were crushed beneath her body.

The pause was longer this time, but once more she pushed herself into a half-upright position. This time there was not a kneel; rather, she sat back on one heel while the other bared foot pressed into the ground. Her rubied flesh once more caught the pale light, faced directly toward him. "Did you like that?" she whispered, secure in the belief that he would still hear. Her shoulder bled freely for a moment before the vitae slowed. Once more she cleared debris from her hand as the water, disturbed by her intrusion, lapped lightly upon her legs. Fingers traced over the bloodied shoulder a moment, gathering the fluid, and then dipped yet again to heated wet flesh. Red smears mingled with the sign of her arousal momentarily before her fingers slid into her, resistance nil. Yet again she sought his single-eyed gaze.

He howled into the night, crushing whatever warmth spring dared attempt to breathe into this stretch of the glen with the agony of his cry. Rhyme and reason ran from the sound, while terror and rage reveled in its song. His eye locked onto hers as he moved forwards: This time, purposeful; this time, with certainty. His clawed and talons were slowly embroiled in blue flame as he stalked across the largely unmolested grasses of the glen's modest clearing, leaving glassy pits in his wake. Until, of course, he hit the water. Jets of steam filled the air around him, and the fires were extinguished. The growling followed a huffing pattern, like that of a horse run too hard for too long, his breath unsettling the water below his snout with ripples and waves. He was nearly upon her.

[Dawn Shadowsbane]

She surged up at his swift approach, hand swiftly leaving the vicinity of her scaldingly-heated sex. Damp, gleaming fingers traced a moment up her body to circle her breast - the touch but a second long before the hand withdrew from her skin. There would be no waiting passively for him at the third engagement. Rather, she lunged forward, into the water, to meet him mid-route. A growl in answer to his howl rose from deep within, and fingers splayed, nails deceptively shaped - while they seemed rounded, points adorned the tips, sharp and steely.

He rose up onto his hind legs to meet her, and his claws spread in anticipation. There was nothing deceptive about them. They were truthful, as wicked and unforgiving as anything that one could imagine. His form, however, had been less than honest. The quadrupedal appearance he'd given wasn't the only intended form of movement in his arsenal, and when he rose to his hind legs his wings repositioned in his back and split his shoulders wider than before with a pair of sickening cracks. As she came in for the strike, he appeared to welcome it with open arms.

Committed to the clash as she was, she couldn't abort at the change in physique. Truth to tell, there may have been some part of her that wanted those arms to be open in truth for her; even if she'd never say it, her body was in no position to lie about such a thing. A final step and she stormed into him. She knew that while she couldn't necessarily rock him off balance, she could at least stun him for that second that she needed to press fingers into the sides of his neck. The grip meant to hold him fast as her head darted forward, neck long and lean, and sharpened teeth sought what would normally be the tender and vital flesh of an animal's neck under the chin.

He was caught off guard, expecting a more direct assault, and so he was stopped for the moment it took her to grab hold of his neck, and for her teeth to sink in. He smiled, as the black blood began to flow. And his arms closed around her and held her head in place, as his wings encircled them tentatively, outside the thrashing reach of her own. She would suffer beautifully for her error in judgment.

And so she did. Dawn convulsed in his embrace with the pain, mouth opening to release a screech of horror as the dark ichor coated her tongue and teeth, and seeped into her. She was at a crossroads, however. She could either give in to the pain, to him, or she could bear the hellfire and resume her assault on his neck. She tensed, tightening with readiness, then once more clamped fangs onto his neck, deeper and harder, while fingers sought vulnerable flesh nearby. If she would suffer, so would he.

He caught hold of one of her hands at the wrist, as it scraped up the side of his face toward his eye. His tongue, long and slick and twisting, brushed over it once as he applied pressure to the wrist. Enough to force her hand to slacken, for the moment at least. The hand holding her head to his throat was abandoned in favor of sinking its claws into her back, below the wings. This, however, caused the pressure on his neck to be given to more pulling and he leaned back, instinctively. As he did so, he snapped his jaws shut and drew his head back, and jabbed his claws into her hip. His body still twisting, tail thrashing in the steaming water, he fell backwards with her. Their shared growls still filled the air, but with it the blood pouring out of Dawn's mouth and across her body, burning everything it touched, increased.

Each invasion of his claws caused almost a whimper to tickle the portion of throat within her mouth. Her form jerked against him as the liquid fire continued its horrifying and demented caress over her, inside and out. She tumbled with him, an unwilling passenger to his fall, and she finally released her toothed grip of him for good. Rather, the struggle to remove herself from such close quarters became of paramount importance. His wings and claws, however, impeded her retreat. A keening howl of pain sounded even as she fought for freedom.

[Dawn Shadowsbane]

The moment she released that delicate clamp over his neck, the beast pulled her along with him to the side to try and push her into and under the water. After all, where was the fun in this if all he was fighting and struggling with and against was a corpse? He pushed her down into the shallow, sandy water, and once they were facing similar directions, he kicked her at least a few feet away. That way, he could stand once more. His body was wreathed in blue flame again, for a brief moment, and then it went out. The water shot up in steam again, and continued to rise from the surface. He looked down upon her, and took a step forwards.

Panting breaths came and she crawled backward on her elbows, seeking to increase the distance before he could finish her. The pain, the terror radiated from her; she truly did fear for her safety in this moment. The continued searing torture of his acid blood made her sluggish, and she struggled to get even a few inches further from him. The two things she did not deign to do, however, were begging for his mercy or inflaming him with words. Perhaps she finally realized that she would get nowhere fast enough; she stopped her attempt at flight. Rather, she looked up, leaned her torso forward and out of the water as much as possible, and spat at his feet. Defiant to the last, it seemed.

He paused. His great, terrible approach had been halted, and his eye turned down upon the spit and blood mixed together, floating on the water's surface. His eye was incredulous, offended, confused, angry...and it slowly rose back up to close on her face. His jaw slackened, for a moment, every muscle in his body tensed, and he descended upon her like a wave.

She knew it was coming; what she didn't expect was his reaction to her last act. She also didn't expect the point of attack. She really only had a moment to prepare herself for the blow, only a second to tilt her head back and bare the long neck to give him a clean angle. If he was going to kill her, she hoped he would at least appreciate her and do so cleanly. What she felt, however, was at her shoulder - the unblemished one. The bite jolted her underneath his hulking frame and a screech was torn from her throat, half anguish and surprise.

His descent was altered, by nothing more terrible or even sentient, than a slick little rock. His foot slipped, and he toppled forwards. He fell against her, sunk his teeth into her shoulder for another toss, and in the great and terrible struggle to right himself he pushed forwards enough to try and drive himself from the sandy ground under the few inches of steaming water with just his legs. Before he could bring himself to stand, however, he felt peculiar. It was a feeling he hadn't associated with something that should necessarily be happening during this series of actions, and it was only after a silent, split-second of contemplation that he realized what that warm, slick pressure signified. His jaws pulled free from her shoulder, and he stared at her for a bare moment, the eye of an unparalleled predator on her face. Truly, the only description of his expression was "!"

[Dawn Shadowsbane]

The scream cut short at the strange reaction from him; she was freed from his fanged grip as swiftly as she'd fallen prisoner to it. Her mouth gaped at the "!", uncomprehending. The confusion of the moment seemed to allow the pain to fade into a temporary distance. "Ski..." She shifted under him as she began to speak... She paused at the friction and heat, blinked, tested the truth of the matter, blinked again, and then stared in an echo of him. "!!"

A "Well, what should we do about this?" moment of silence and staring passed between them. Then he looked down. And back up.

Sculpted but muddied brows rose at the glance toward the action; they remained high in silent question once he finally managed to gaze at her face. A little smirk, tainted by echoes of pain, crossed her face at the resumption of eye contact. She shifted again, more controlled and careful, tilting her hips up slowly - if that wasn't encouragement, what would be?

He grinned in response, which was a nightmarish thing to behold, but at least it meant that he had certainly gotten the message. His hips began to rock, while he got his bearings, then his eye narrowed and the momentary state of graciousness that he seemed to have fallen under lifted. He growled, and his tail coiled around her midsection to anchor her in place as he entered into an unforgiving rhythm. Otherwise, she might have been damaged or lost along the way.

She allowed a momentary grimace to pass over her expression; both inside and out were still afire from the ichor that washed over her mouth and skin several moments prior. The tips of her wings, splayed under them, flipped upward weakly as they sought a freer range of movement. She grunted in time with him, spreading herself and contracting her lower half at the apex of each thrust in their dance. Her hands, allowed to roam and not pinned to the sands, traversed to his sides and clamped onto his hips, nails breaking through skin and scales for a firm hold. She encouraged his punishing pace, pelvis surging upward into his in time.

His scales and hide gave way, easily enough now that she could focus solely on the task, and his huffing growl heightened for a moment as his snout lowered to the crook of her neck, horns curved over the back of her shoulder. With every chuff, a jet of hot air blew across her chest and down to the water, where little waves had begun to radiate outward from their conjoined position. His lower half rocked with punishing strokes. His wings spread, slowly, until they were cast fully out, backlit by the moonlight.

[Dawn Shadowsbane]

Curious little grunts escaped; the motions too sharp and jolting for a sustained moan to emerge. Make no mistake, however, this was what she craved above all. Her head turned slightly upon the first wisp of breath upon her flesh, not-so-coyly inviting him to replace his teeth where they recently were. There was risk there, of course, he might bite at the tender flesh and through her jugular but she thrilled in the danger of it. Heat, growing with each moment, radiated from her - the more excited she became, the more enflamed her body became in match to the passion. Fingernails dug deep, scalding furrows in his back and sides as she met him time and again.

His snout slowly rose, the sparse intake of air enough to draw the scent from her recent wounds, and he drew his head back to strike at the exposed flesh. His tongue drew across it, greedily hoarding the lifeblood seeping from newfound wounds. That which escaped mixed with the heated waters around them, vapors from the steam growing thick with the intoxicating scent of their blood and lust embroiled toward a crescendo, as they themselves were. He snarled a pleased, and yet ravenous response each and every time she graced him with new injury. His tail's hold tightened, the unforgiving desires and demands of his body his only concern at the moment.

The lash of the tongue ripped a jarring cry from her throat, unexpectedly gentle to her in the violence of their mating. She thrashed, crashed into and around him so deeply inside. Her body stilled, locked like a moment of frozen fire - hot yet immovable. Then ... she shattered. Her mind and will broke into a thousand ragged pieces at the climax brought early and so suddenly. Fingers, more sharply clawed than before, sought to rip through him, to shred flesh from his torso.

As slivers of muscle and hide, scales and drops of blood, were torn from his abdomen and obliques to litter the water's surface, his jaws wrenched loose from her shoulder and his head turned upwards as he released a howl matched in intensity only by the break in his body and mind. A jet of bright blue flame illuminated the sky above them as he broke against her, within her, and fell to pieces all around her.

A great shudder in the split second before his fall over the edge, a consequent tumble into oblivion for her vocalized by the hellish, discordant scream. She jerked, a rag-doll whipping within his tail's continuing hold, aftershocks rocking through her. Finally, though, it proved too much and she gasped and fell limp below him, the warm water lapping at their entwined bodies beneath the springtime moon.