The Drow Queen of Glaley [Very NSFW]

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Fuck you," she spits. 

[Varisia Primfana]

Varisia slowly arches an eyebrow as she looks at Coquette. "I'd like to point out the majesty of my restraint there, not taking that opening."

[Coquette Blacquin]

Anger rising, she pushes off against the wall, throwing her body into a shove intending to shove Varisia off the bed entirely. 

[Varisia Primfana]

Expression not changing, the merikos drow drops flat so Coquette is stretched out over her. The blow that hits her in the stomach is launched at full force, fingers stiffened firmly enough that they break skin slightly despite the neatly trimmed nails. It's only then that Varisia's mind catches up to her instincts, stopping her from following up with chop to the neck with the side of her hand. It does not stop her from cursing ripely in drow. 

[Coquette Blacquin]

Letting out a pained, rage-filled cry, Coquette scratches at Varisia's eyes, hoping to go for the soft flesh there with her nails. 

[Varisia Primfana]

"Fine then," Varisia snarls, twisting her neck so she captures Coquette's wrist in her teeth. While the younger woman is distracted by yowling in pain as teeth grind down hard enough to draw specks of blood, Varisia bucks and rolls so Coquette ends up underneath. An elbow connects with Varisia's ribs, earning a loud grunt as the air is knocked out of her, but is repaid with an open palmed slap that dazes the noble for a few vital seconds. Before she can properly recovering, she feels cold metal around her wrists as her hands are bound to the headboard.

Leaning back briefly, Varisia grinds her pelvis against Coquette's, sending shivers of sensation though them both. Her breasts, gleaming slickly with the lotion, are heaving gloriously as she pants lightly. "So it's a lesson you want? Gladly, pet," she seethes down at her new wife. I wanted to be friends, you stupid bitch. I wanted a wife, a mother for my daughters. But if I have to bring you to heel first, then so be it. Wrapping one hand around Coquette's throat, she leans back down, hips still grinding slowly.

"Ti divertirai, tesoro, anche se lo neghi in seguito." But not as much as I'll enjoy it.

[Coquette Blacquin]

I won't scream. I won't scream, and cry, and carry on. I won't give you the pleasure. But something stirs in Coquette's breast, against her stronger impulses: something like a sustained sob, something like a desire to whimper and cry and let herself be dominated. Her face goes slack as she struggles to stay alert, to stay present. Her eyes unfocus, and a small mewling whimper slips out of her lips. 

[Varisia Primfana]

"No more insults?" Varisia purrs, nipping at Coquette's ear. "You had such rage a moment ago, you actually surprised me." She squeezes firmly, restricting but not coming even close to cutting off Coquette's ability to breathe. Her other hand slips between them to start picking at the lacing going up the side of her wife's dress. 

[Coquette Blacquin]

She seems to come to when Varisia starts peeling off her dress; then she thrashes and kicks, struggling like mad to get out from under her new wife. 

[Varisia Primfana]

"There it is," the merikos drow crows, shifting her weight to focus on the knee she's using to pin Coquette's right thigh to the bed. She squeezes her wife's throat tighter, carefully watching for signs of asphyxiation. "And there this is," she adds with a leer, her other hand having removed enough of the lacing to slip inside and capture a nipple 'twixt thumb and finger.

[Coquette Blacquin]

Coquette stills, eyes wide. "Cunt," she snarls. There isn't much to grab on her chest; once the padding's removed, her chest is almost flat, but she has the developed areola that marks her as a woman true despite it. Elf blood for sure, then, not just drow. 

[Varisia Primfana]

"As you prefer," is the mocking reply. Fingers twist and pinch sharply before sweeping downwards. "Too much wool and lace, not enough leather and skin, but I do love that Allessians have a proper view on underwear." Specifically, that it's not worn under formal wear. Her hand is still damp with the lotion, easing its efforts in squeezing into Coquette's half-on, half-off dress, as well as causing a faint but lingering sensation of cold, prickling heat. Fingers rub the skin of her pelvis and found nothing but smooth flesh. "No tuft? A shame," Varisia says with a pout. "Suppose we'll just have to get you something else to decorate down there."

[Coquette Blacquin]

The stillness breaks suddenly, abruptly, as her left leg shoots up as soon as the dress is riding high enough, aiming a swift kick to Varisia's hip. She hopes to knock her off balance, but that hope is denied; a swift twist and one thumb dislocates, hand almost getting free of the handcuffs but it's just a mite thick to squeeze through. 

[Varisia Primfana]

Varisia growls as she recovers her balance. Then again as she spots-- "Your father is blind, stupid, or both," she snarls, slapping Coquette once, then twice, then a third time before she feels confident in reasserting her pin and adding some silk ties to the handcuffs. "Where the fuck did you learn gutter fighting?" Despite her temper, the merikos drow is almost trembling with pleasure at the struggle and the feel of Coquette's body beneath her. 

[Coquette Blacquin]

Her only answer is to spit upward as hard as she can, the phlegm landing on Varisia's cheek.