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Satine ([info]softest_diamond) wrote in [info]mirage_rpg,
@ 2008-07-13 13:53:00

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Entry tags:arrival, complete, day 7, pheromones, satine, severus snape

Day Seven
Who? Satine and Severus Snape
Where? Hot springs area
When? Sunrise
What? Satine's arrival and pheromone trouble
Rating? NC-17 for unbridled passion
Status: Complete



It seemed that death was always a sudden and unwelcome visitor. Spectacular, Spectacular! had not gone swimmingly. A whole mess had been happening for quite a few days, and Satine's soul was weary. Worse than her soul, however, was the condition of her body. Consumption was by no means a kind disease; it was a plague of the poor. Though she was successful and well loved, Satine did not have money, nor did she have time. From the moment she'd found out that she was ill, she knew that she was dying - and fast. Still, this was her chance to be a real actress instead of just a courtesan. It was her chance to fulfill her dream and maybe, just maybe, she'd get to leave the Moulin Rouge for a short time. Over the course of the past few weeks, however, her world had crumbled around her. She'd found Christian, loved him, lost him. She'd been forced into the arms of The Duke, loved him in a different way, and lost everything. She was tired, she was alone, and that performance was all she had left. It was the sunset of her life. Though Christian had returned to her, and they had reconciled, the damage was already done and she was condemned to an early end.

His hands were so warm as she laid there in his arms, a stark contrast to the gradual freeze moving over her body. "I'm cold, Christian," she mumbled, though lack of breath prevented her words from getting very far. "I'm so cold." Holding onto him would not help her now. Where she was going, it was necessary that she go alone. Born into nothing, she was leaving nothing behind. But no, it was not nothing. It was a love that had given her life meaning. As she watched Christian, she trembled, too weak to try to comfort him. He was saying words, but she heard them as if she were under water. He sounded so far away. It was at that moment that she realized that this was the end. The curtain had almost completely fallen. Mustering her last few breaths, she looked at him tenderly, fighting to send forth her last will.

"Tell our story Christian...that way I'll...I'll always be...with you..."

Her eyes closed for the last time, and Satine, The Sparkling Diamond, became part of the world's history, or so she thought. It seemed that a lonely planet cared for the flickering starlight that was Satine's life.

Sensation slowly entered her body, eradicating that chill blackness that had settled inside of her. She became aware of the soft sound of water, perhaps a few waves here and there. Heat of some sort flowed over her skin like a breath. There was soft grass around her, and smooth rock also, which was less than comfortable considering the amount of diamonds on her dress. As awareness flowed over her, Satine could not stand it anymore. She attempted to open her eyes and, indeed, they opened, revealing to her a place that was clearly not the Moulin Rouge, nor Paris, nor anywhere else she'd ever been nor heard about in tales. As humans are generally logical creatures, her brain began to work, assessing the situation. She had died of consumption. Of that, she was certain. This was a lush, beautiful land somewhere after death. This, then, was heaven, or perhaps the Elysian fields. She very much preferred the idea of Elysian fields to the idea of becoming an angel who sat on a cloud and never got to truly perform, only sing hymns of praise.

Sitting up, slowly, as not to hurt herself or get any nasty shocks, she raised a hand to delicately rub her eyes. She was still dressed in full stage garb, diamond headdress sparkling in the rising sun. "Where am I?" she whispered, putting a hand to her throat. "And what do I do now?"



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[info]softest_diamond
2008-07-18 11:36 pm UTC (link)
She hadn't given a thought to such playful movements. Really, they seemed completely natural. She was used to doing such things; after so much time as a courtesan, little gestures like those had become part of her personality. Also, the French were notoriously touchy-feely. It came with being from, supposedly, the most romantic place on Earth.

Smiling, she stopped to listen to him, watching his expression. Her eyes widened as she listened to him. Teach me what you know of love! She almost blushed. Almost. It would have been too unlike her, however, to let any such thing happen. A tender smile crossed her lips, and she made her way closer to him. Her fingers slipped beneath his chin and ran along his jaw bone, stroking gently, as she sank to her knees in front of him. She did not like to be standing higher than anybody else unless she was performing. She sighed softly, looking into his eyes.

"Please, I insist that you call me Satine. Just Satine. You're the closest I have to a friend in this place, Monsieur Snape, and if you must use formality, well, I suppose I would prefer Miss Satine. But I am not worthy of any such title as lady."

A little bit of shock ran through her when he held out his arms. What, did he want her to fall into them just like that? Still, she knew better than to refuse, really. She knew men and that they had a tendency to be fragile at the least convenient moment. And, truly, what could indulging him hurt? Still, she was a little unsettled by the fervor with which he claimed to have feelings for her. Then again, she'd heard such things before from individuals far less qualified.

Moving into his arms, Satine slid her arms over his shoulders, her lips near his ear. "Monsieur Snape, I have not lived a thousand lives of love. Passion, perhaps, but passion is not necessarily love. No one, however, should have to face toil and isolation on a constant basis. I am sorry that you had to go through such a thing. It must have been horrible." Her fingers lightly stroked his hair. He had looked too sad for her to deny him at least an embrace.

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[info]severelyseverus
2008-07-19 11:10 am UTC (link)
Snape's heartbeat increased steadily as the French woman sank to her knees before him. Huddled there, on a remote bluff, he nevertheless felt an intense intimacy with her. As she stroked his jaw, his eyes blazed with his incredible desire for her. His love was such that he wanted not to consume her, to make her his, but to give himself to her completely, to subsume his own being in hers.

"Satine, then. Dearest Satine. I am honoured that you would invite me to use such an intimate form of address."

When he had held his hands and arms out to her, it had primarily been as a mere gesture. The invitation implied was meant to be understood, but he had not dared imagine that the perfect creature would accept, let alone spare a thought for his pains and sorrows. As Satine slid up to him, wrapping her arms about his neck, his soul nearly left his body in a seizure of perfect ecstasy. As she spoke softly, her lips nearly brushing his ear, he swore silently that he would never wash that ear again. Tentatively, but firmly, he forced himself to return her gestures. Unworthy as he felt, surely it was the appropriate way to show gratitude for her magnanimity. Raising his arms nervously, he wrapped them around her slender dancer's body, holding her firmly, pressing her to him. Not allowing himself to kiss her, he, too, spoke closely to her ear.

"Already, dear Satine, you cannot help but reveal your wisdom in these matters that are so little known to me. Passion and love. I have had so little of both that I did not appreciate the distinction. It was horrible, beautiful Satine, but that is all in the past now. That lonely life is ended, and all I am is here blissfully with you."

In a way, this episode felt unreal to Snape. So many nights had he spent in dreams and fantasies of such actions, such companionship, this almost felt, too, like it was merely an extremely vivid vision. He had rarely dared imagine that he would ever hold someone like Satine... Or had he? Somewhere in the back of his mind a former fantasy drifted, a fantasy of a beautiful young woman, skin pale like Satine's, hair red like Satine's. Had he known her before? He decided it must have been a premonition of this perfect meeting.

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[info]softest_diamond
2008-07-20 01:22 am UTC (link)
Laughing softly, she shook her head, unable to help but smile. He was delightfully naive and charming despite his age. "You are still quite formal despite the informal way that I have bid you call me. I enjoy it. You are very true to yourself. I... admire and envy that quality, really." A soft sigh escaped the courtesan. She had never known how to be herself; her true self was that of a social chameleon. To be ever changing was not only necessary, but a way of life. Maybe in death she'd be able to figure things out a bit.

"Tell me, and you may find me rude or ignorant for asking, but do you live outside? Or is there, perhaps, some other place that you reside in this afterlife? Not that I'd have a problem living outside. I just imagine it would be horribly difficult for me to maintain my appearance. Also, my lungs are so very weak. I can't imagine that even the night air in Paradise would be good for them. While night may be quite far off, I have a tendency to think about the future quite a bit. It is both a blessing and a curse. Rarely do I find myself learning from or dwelling on the past. You could say that I am a woman who's been ripped from time."

Smiling, she pressed close to him. She enjoyed the feeling of being held; he reminded her of Christian, though a sadder Christian. A moment of pause was taken. Where was Christian now? If nearly one hundred years had passed, surely he was also dead. Did that mean that he was here somewhere? Or did people go to different versions of Paradise? Thinking about it too much made Satine's brain hurt, so she resolved to not bother with it. If she ran into him in the afterlife, it would be wonderful. Hopefully he would be able to understand, and she'd be able to hear if he had actually told their story. Another pause. Apparently not. If Severus Snape did not know who she was, then her story had not been told by Christian or, if it had, they'd been forgotten.

But how could anyone forget love, whether it was their own or that belonging to someone else?

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[info]severelyseverus
2008-07-20 10:48 am UTC (link)
Snape was in perfect bliss holding the enchanting creature in his arms. As she snuggled closer to him, he could not remember a happier time in his entire existence. Surely this is what he had been meant for, what he had been born for. Surely there was no greater purpose for him in this afterlife than to protect and keep happy this angelic woman. He smiled at her compliment about his integrity, pleased that she admired his qualities.

When she mentioned another place, however, his reverie was somewhat broken. He had, it seemed, been so caught up in the joy of meeting and being with her, that he had completely forgotten that there was still so much about this place that she didn't know, so much that she should know, that he could teach her. Stroking her hair carefully, unwilling to disturb the careful arrangement of pins and jewelry that adorned it, he did his best to explain.

"No, my dear Satine, I do not live outside, nor do any here who do not wish to do so. A place has been prepared for each of us, a suite of rooms, everything arranged to our preference. There is also a great lodge, with a large dining hall that will serve you any dish you may desire. There are rooms for games, for recreation, for leisure. Worry not, my dear. You will be comfortable here, and well able to maintain the standards of appearance you have hitherto maintained."

Snape fervently desired to gift her with every shred of knowledge he had gained about their new habitation, but was also seized with an anxious desire that she not be inspired to leave this place quite yet. He could not imagine anything more tragic than the breaking of this sweet tryst in the wilderness, here on this sun-soaked meadow, where they could be alone, alone with nothing to do but love one another. Affectionately, he brushed his thumb down along Satine's cheek lightly, attempting to encourage the same feelings of contentment in her.

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[info]softest_diamond
2008-07-21 08:25 pm UTC (link)
Satine was not the sort of woman to take much that was given her for granted. A moment of security, to one in her line of work, was worth its weight in gold. Well, maybe not that much, but it was worth an awful lot. Though part of her brain was filled with thoughts of Christian, of worrying about him, of longing for him, there was a large part of her that was also happy with the current situation. She could stand, if Christian was nowhere around, to be the pet, or arm jewelry, or even the adored object of affection, to a man such as this Severus Snape. He was neither unkind nor unimaginative, nor could she openly think of any request that he might make of her that would be unreasonable. In the recent past, recent for her, she'd been forced to tell her only love that she never felt anything for him, and she'd also been forced to sleep with a man who was revolting and abhorrent to her. Any other sort of request seemed pleasant in comparison. If he had simply voiced his desire for her to stay with him there and not wish to be anywhere else, she would have happily obeyed. Some payments were better than cash.

"It's so early," she murmured, shifting in his grasp. "Yet I have learned so much, and the sun is only rising. What a day, no, what a life this will be." The sun was warm on her pale skin but not unpleasant. It was nice to be outside in the country; the courtesan had spent her birth, youth, life, and death within the dingy confines of the Parisian slums. Never had she set so much as a foot outside of the Mont Martre district. "You are an excellent teacher. I imagine, Sir, that your students learned vast amounts of knowledge from you. They, surely, were lucky to meet you, just as I am lucky to know you now. I simply cannot believe that I have been ripped out of time and space in such a manner. How long was I asleep after dying if you passed so long after me?" She smiled and laughed, shaking her head, studying his face.

Feeling his fingers in her hair, she sat up a little bit more. Her hands raised to undo the pins and clips and, with a few twists and tugs, her long, red hair fell free. Setting the gems down in the grass, Satine slid her hands through her hair, fanning it out in the morning sun. The new light made it look even redder than it had before, in turn making her look paler and more delicate. She took his hand and placed it back on her hair, tilting her head into his touch. As his hand slid along her face, she nuzzled into that caress as well, her eyes half closed.

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[info]softest_diamond
2008-07-21 08:27 pm UTC (link)
Listening to his explanation, that they didn't have to live outside, she was mildly impressed. At least she would have all of the necessary tools to keep herself civilized looking. She could not fathom what she would look like if left in the wild too long. She had always taken such pride in being pale. Men of her time liked that sort of thing. "I suppose that, when I am ready to go, or you are ready to take me, I will enjoy the sight of such a place. Perhaps I shall find a room of my own. Perhaps not. I never was one for sleeping alone. There are far too many things that can get someone when they're alone in the dark." The hairs on the back of her neck rose at the notion. She was not fond, at all, of the things that went bump in the night. That was why working when it was dark had always been such a blessing. Going to sleep in the morning's light was her favorite way to go.

Looking to him once more, Satine pulled away just a bit to get a better angle. She tilted her head up and down. He was not exactly fair of face, but she supposed now that she had misjudged many a man based on his appearance. Her vanity, she decided, was something she would have to take care of in the afterlife. Perhaps she could try to be a bit more...compassionate and understanding. "The love of your life, she must have been very lucky, Monsieur. You are knowledgeable, kind, mysterious, well employed...there is nothing that you lack, is there? All that is necessary a woman could find in you. I cannot believe that such as you could lead an existence of loneliness and isolation. That sort of life is reserved for my kind. A bird trapped in a cage with nothing but beautiful feathers...I find it easy to both envy and admire you. I cannot imagine all the living that you must have done, all the things you must have seen. It must have been great, terribly great." She silenced herself, looking up to the sky, embarrassed once more. Was she laying on the compliments a little too thick? She'd have to be less free with her tongue.

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[info]severelyseverus
2008-07-22 11:53 pm UTC (link)
Snape exulted to see her long, red hair flow gloriously free in the early sunlight. Then, when she placed his hand back on her head, giving him a clear sign, a clear invitation to his physical attentions, he felt a stirring within himself. He desired above all to please her, to serve her, to do what would make this angel happy, and certainly she had shown him that to stroke her hair and her skin, to hold her in his arms was to do that, but now also, as she nuzzled contentedly against his hand, he saw her, briefly, not simply as an untouchable icon of courtly adoration, but as a being that returned his affection, that could be touched, cuddled, like... a pet. It was the closest thing he could relate to. For that moment she wasn't just a perfect thing of beauty, she was his perfect thing of beauty.

"This life will truly be magnificent, my dear Satine. If you can believe the things you are so kind to say about me, and I believe that you do, then it must be that we will be so happy here, together. I do not know as much as I might pretend about the inner workings of the universe, and I certainly cannot claim to know the intentions of whatever being or beings designed this paradise, but it may be that this is a place out of time, a place where persons from a hundred years apart, persons such as you and I, who never would have met, can be able to come together, to fulfill a destiny and to live a love that would never otherwise have had a chance to blossom and flourish. Stay with me, Satine. Be my exquisitely-feathered bird, and I will never cage you. Though loneliness was the unhappy hallmark of my previous existence, stay with me now and neither of us shall ever be lonely again! It is true that, in my former life I wandered the world, visiting many far lands and seeing many strange and terrible things, but never did I encounter anything as fabled as you."

Emboldened by the feelings he imagined he was feeling from her, and spurred by the new streak of entitlement her responses were encouraging in him, he ran his fingers through her hair more freely, worrying less about her delicacy, trusting more that she would respond positively to his actions. Stroking her exquisite face, he lifted her chin so he could gaze unabashed into her overwhelmingly crystal eyes.

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[info]softest_diamond
2008-07-23 11:07 pm UTC (link)
For Satine, life was made of moments, and many of those moments were ones such as these. She was excellent at pretending, but it was not a malicious sort of fantasy. Genuinely she wanted the fantasy to be true; that was how she had become such a good actress. When you were lying, when you were acting, everything was all in the timing. If life was made of moments, there was nowhere to be but the hear and now. And for now, Satine was his perfect thing of beauty. There was no harm, no danger, as far as she was concerned. If she could give happiness, what did it matter if it was not the sort of thing that she could promise would be eternal?

This would not be the first time that she was a pet. The notion, honestly, did not bother her. Pets were generally fed, cared for, pampered, spoken softly and gently and kindly to - as long as she got those things, what else did it matter? Yes, pets could be abused. Yes, pets had little free will. What good was free will when it destroyed those you cared about most? And if she were to misbehave and be beaten for it, well, it'd surely be something that she deserved. As much as she had hated the situation with The Duke so many years ago, the whole ordeal had made sense. Perhaps that was why it had been so awful, so painful, and so terrifying.

His words caused a bit of a lump in her throat. Her brain was full of thoughts of Christian, flooded for a moment, but she managed to push them down and away. A smile crossed her lips but there was something incredibly sad behind it. Still, she did her best to hide it. Her eyes gazed up into his as he tilted her head. And, in her usual fashion, she always knew exactly what to say. Voice soft, she closed her eyes, almost sighing out her response.

"You may tire of me faster than you think, Monsieur. For all you know, your affections might change tomorrow. Though that would be deeply sad to me, for I would be the loser in such a situation, I would gladly take an uncertain turn with you over an entire lifetime of safety and predictability. I, Sir, will be yours for as long as you will have me. Do not say that you will never cage me. Keep me bound, tightly, by your side for as long as you require. Let your affections trap me and clip my flight feathers. If it makes you happy and pleases you, I am that thing. I will do as you please, be as you please, for as long as you please. All you must do is say the words to me, and your word will be flesh. I shall serve you more faithfully than the best of all possible magic of which you spoke."

She opened her eyes slightly, looking into his face. Her hands moved to rest on his cheeks, holding him still, and before he could protest she moved in. Those heavily painted lips did not smudge a bit as they brushed against his own; whatever she was wearing was very good. It was a chaste kiss, mostly as she was uncertain as to what else he would like. Pulling away after only a few moments, she allowed the corner of her lips to curve upwards. "You will have to forgive me," she murmured, "for being so bold. It was, in my best judgment, what I felt that you required, Monsieur Snape."

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[info]severelyseverus
2008-07-24 12:22 am UTC (link)
It was indeed what he had required. As the courtesan had spoken, Snape's heartbeat had begun to increase, the heat suffusing his body had begun to intensify, to affect his conscious mind. She spoke of being his possession, of being everything he desired. She outright told him that she was willing to face the risk and affix herself to his side. Then, as if to physically embody that intention, she had kissed him.

A kiss! He had not been kissed in so long, there were many parts of him that had not remembered the sensations of it. The touch of her painted lips was like the sting of a bolt of lightening. Surging through him, the shock of it strengthened his arms, his hands, his desire, and his will. It was indeed what he had required to motivate him to carry his subconscious urges into direct action. Allowing her to speak briefly, he immediately pulled her lips back to meet his, pressing against them with his own.

His kiss was not chaste. Nearly crushing her lips with unexpected strength, it conveyed in no uncertain terms the force of the tidal wave that had burst forth when her own gesture had destroyed the dam he had built inside him. Running his fingers hungrily through her thick hair, he clutched her waist, holding her tightly to him, as if they might merge, as if they might be one. He would devour her, make her his own in every way. He could not get enough.

"Oh, Satine... I would ask such things of you..."

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[info]softest_diamond
2008-07-24 11:21 pm UTC (link)
His reaction was, quite possibly, the most startling she'd ever faced in her entire life. Never before had she known someone to be so full of passion and vigor with just a simple offer. He had seemed so calm, so mild mannered before her words. The intensity that flowed through him was almost visible to her, a type of magic in its own right.

Swallowing hard, she leaned into the second kiss. That was one that she was a little less used to. Men from the late nineteenth century were not as gentile as those from earlier ages, yet they were not quite so forward. It was private, however, so she did not worry much. There was no one to see or offend. Exhaling softly, she slid her arms around him, one hand resting gently on the back of his head. Her fingers gripped his hair lightly.

As he pressed her against him, she shivered a little. Goosebumps ran the length of her flesh. It was horribly exciting, really, to be desired. A narcissistic streak forced her to love that feeling. Hearing his words, she simply nodded. For once, she was completely void of words. He had captured her attention completely. That was always how it got when someone accepted an offer such as those that she presented.

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[info]severelyseverus
2008-07-30 11:57 pm UTC (link)
Clutching Satine now to him with an almost terrifying urgency, Snape kissed her repeatedly, now tenderly, now fiercely, all the while murmuring her name. It was as if by saying her name in every possible way he could take her entire being into his mind, contain her, complete her, possess her. He had risked revealing to her in his kiss all the savagery and ferocity of his passion to consume her, and she had not bolted, she had not shied away, no! she had pressed herself against him more, returned his kiss, attempted to meet his intensity. With that, all the remaining shreds of his hesitancy had evaporated like so much morning mist in the heat of his desire.

Aglow with license, his liberated hands began to move over her, touching, clutching, every inch of her flesh. A hand moved from the centre of her back to the back of her neck, another from her waist to her belly, then to her thigh. It was with a barely conscious compulsion that he began to explore her, listening carefully to her breath, responding to her responses. His pleasure at being given the opportunity to fulfill his nigh-irrational desire to have her was only magnified by any pleasure he believed he was giving her.

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[info]softest_diamond
2008-07-31 12:23 am UTC (link)
Ah, yes. There were the whispers in the dark, though this time they were in the light. There was the sense of passion, possession, the ferocity. It wasn't that he was predictable or cliché; she had, in fact, been pleasantly surprised by him. That was just how these sorts of things went. She hardly minded. It was nice to be able to feel, to experience, to enjoy. She'd expected death to be a blankness, a vague void of numbness. To continue in the same path and occupation she had in life was a pleasant surprise. She didn't hate the job too much - she'd been with it nearly a decade, hadn't she? And this time it wasn't so much the job. This was for fun, for kindness, for compassion and understanding, for love?

Pulling away from the kiss, the red haired courtesan gazed at him. His intensity was overwhelming, and her reduced lung capacity made her chest heave with each breath rather enticingly. A smile crossed her face, a dark and satiny chuckle escaping her lips. "Mm, my my, Sir. You really are remarkable, if I may be permitted to say so." All but tackling him to the ground, tired of being upright for far too long, she fell to the grass, not caring if her clothes or skin got a little dirty. There was, after all, water nearby and apparently a room waiting for her. She lightly stroked her fingers through his hair, eagerly awaiting his next move. This was far too interesting.

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[info]severelyseverus
2008-08-01 09:23 am UTC (link)
Snape had been completely overwhelmed. The alien pheremones that had suffused his brain had been yearning for just such an eventuality as this the entire time, and to have it blossom into such a perfect fullness sent them coursing through his bloodstream in levels that robbed him of his every last shred of rationality. He never considered how many other men a courtesan such as she might have been with. He never compared himself to them. There was only his all-consuming passion to all-consume her.

His ego thrilled at her compliment, as he looked down at her sparkling eyes and heaving bosom. His mind tripped over itself as it attempted to imagine at once all the multiple ways he wanted to proceed. So entranced was he with the decision that he was caught very much by surprise when Satine threw them both to the ground.

Landing on his side with a thud only served to jar him out of his indecision, and spur him to decisive action. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close to him, pressing against the length of her, his desire firmly evident. His hands roamed frantically over ever curve of her angelic body, down the centre of her back, under her hip, down the bottom of her thigh, pulling her leg over his. Increasingly, he found himself frustrated by her garment. How could he properly worship and give pleasure to her clothed form? He needed access to all of her. Was there a clasp, a series of small buttons? His hands felt every part, searching.

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[info]softest_diamond
2008-08-01 11:13 pm UTC (link)
When she noticed that he was getting playful, Satine couldn't help but feel a bit of joy bubble up inside of her, manifesting itself in a giggle. That was half the reason that she stayed with such a profession. Frankly, it was a good time. She had never met someone who, given the opportunity, would turn down a good roll in the sheets, especially if there was no real drawback. Satine had her own views on physical love, and very seldom did she speak on the matter. If she had, she would have offered up that while bodies are free, hearts are not. If hearts and hands never meet, then everything's fine and anything's possible. It was both a good way to earn money, if you were good at it, and a way to have some fun in a life that would have been, otherwise, bleak and sad. This encounter was special in that she would not even have to ask him for payment. It had been a mutual offer, a mutual agreement - hopefully it would be mutually pleasing and fun. He seemed the sort who needed a good time.

"Oh!" she exclaimed as he grabbed her, holding her more tightly to him. She laughed and pressed close to him, allowing his hands to guide her body so that she was in the perfect form to fit him properly. Draping herself on him like a kingly garment, Satine kissed along his jawbone tenderly. She was rather impressed by how forward he was. It was obvious that he was unaffected by the British Victorian sentiment. Uck. They were positively prudish. Then again, British men, of her time at least, had quite the reputation of the frequency with which they sought their whores. A girl from Mont Martre, she knew all about Whitechapel. News tended to travel between the world's whoring hot-spots fairly quickly. It was always good to stay ahead of things. No, he was unique. She wondered what his world had looked like, how it had differed from her own. Had thoughts about sexual freedom versus the confinement of the heart flourished? Those were questions for another time, she supposed.

Luckily for the most confused, excited, irrational, lusty professor, clothing of the late nineteenth century was not particularly difficult to figure out as far as closures went. Even more fortunate for him, it was one of her stage outfits, not her daily clothes, and was made to come off in a hurry. Scene changes were brutally fast, and dressing and undressing needed to be even faster. The white gown was closed with a short series of hook and eye closures towards the top. Once it was past the bustline, the dress was a solid mass of fabric that would come off incredibly easily with a few tugs here and there. They had looked into perhaps modifying that clasp locker for use in clothing, but there had not been enough time to possibly figure out that sort of thing. It probably would have taken far longer to put on than a hook. Noting his frustration, evident by the helplessly searching look in his eyes, Satine gently touched his hands. When it came to this sort of thing she could really read minds. She slid his fingers along her flesh, guiding them to the back of the dress, gently placing them at the topmost hook.

Batting her eyelashes at him slightly, she smiled happily. It was always best to make sure that your company was comfortable. "Monsieur," she started, pulling her face from his just enough to be able to look into his eyes. "Are you certain that you'd like to do this here? I do not have a problem with it." And she didn't. It wasn't like he'd pushed her against a wall and told her to lift her skirts like some filthy British whore. "But I just want to make sure that you are adequately enjoying the space. Some activities are enhanced by the setting, if you catch my meaning."

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[info]severelyseverus
2008-08-03 09:46 am UTC (link)
Snape, blinded by the urgency of his lust, responded immediately to the gentle guidance Satine provided, not only toward her clasps, but in other subtle ways. Despite his subconscious desire to be master of this situation, master of the woman giving of herself before him, he was far less experienced than she, and was making a lot of this up as he went along. When she asked about location, his mind paused unexpectedly for a moment. He had been so caught up in the entire moving forward of the experience that it had not occurred to him to pause and move the scene elsewhere.

His eyes fluttered closed as she kissed his jaw, arching his neck back to offer more skin to her lush lips. A moan or two escaped him before he spoke. "My dear angel, if you are content to do this here, I am moreso; however, though I am embarrassed to say so, I do not quite catch your meaning. Clearly you are perfect in all ways. As knowledgeable about the ways of love as you are about every matter under the sun. I beg you, sweet creature, educate me, that I may assist you in creating a perfect bliss for us both."

Despite the conversation he had engaged with her, his body remained restless, and his hands began to undo the clasps of her dress one at a time, until her bare back was exposed, and it would be a very easy thing for her to shrug her arms out of their sleeves. Snape's fingertips were dazzled as he drew them lightly across the smooth skin between her shoulder blades.

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[info]softest_diamond
2008-08-06 07:44 pm UTC (link)
"Oh Monsieur Snape," she cooed, the top of her dress clinging loosely to her body. She moved ever so slightly away from him, holding the fabric close to her body. His moans were music to her ears, music that no band could produce. It was the oldest music in the spheres. Her lips curved upwards, eyes narrowing as she watched him. Though she was trying to be sweet, there was something incredibly predatory about her at that point. And wasn't that what every man wanted? She was an angel to the world, a beautiful angel of light and beauty and music, yet in the bedroom she was an insatiable fiend. "My dear, dear professor." Her hands raised to rest on his face, her fingers lightly stroking the flesh. Eyes locked on his, her head canted to the side. It was almost as if she were sizing up her prey. "How can I possibly educate you? Mine is a base art, an art of instinct. If you were to ask me to teach you about music, that I could do, for I know a thing or two about it. But this, Monsieur, this is primal. There is no way to teach you this song. What is required of you in such an instance is that you become the song. Your body and the part of your mind that desires, that craves, will guide you. As it already has."

Satine's hand rested gently on his knee and, slowly, slid up his leg, resting on his thigh. Closing her eyes, she kissed him once more, tenderly, before pulling away completely. Rising to her feet, breaking his grasp, she held her dress on her body. Her smile had become a wicked little smirk. "Though I must say, I cannot possibly let you strip me completely just yet, Monsieur." This, after all, was what he had asked for. He had wanted a teacher, not an innocent and blushing flower. Satine could do that. There wasn't very much in this profession that Satine could not do. Motioning to him with one hand, she giggled a little. "Well, I must inform you that I find it necessary, Monsieur, for you to undress. You needn't do so completely without my assistance, I assure you, though if I were to let my other arm fall free of my dress, I would be naked and you would still be fully clad. Is that fair?"

Batting her eyelashes at him, she sauntered closer to him, standing beside his form. Reaching down, she slid her fingers through his hair, twisting it around her fingers, stroking ever so gently, though she gave a little tug now and then. She loosened her grip on the dress a bit, letting the fabric slide down more to reveal the entirety of her back, making sure that everything else was still covered. Leaning down, she nibbled his earlobe slightly. "You can see more," she whispered, "once you do as I've asked." Pulling away, she took a step back, waiting patiently.

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[info]severelyseverus
2008-08-06 11:25 pm UTC (link)
Snape, not normally one to be baited, was on this day, on this occasion, unwitting putty in the courtesan's fine hands. Startled though he was by her retreat and change of tack, his dominant drive never subsided, and it blinded him to the possibility that she might be playing him for a fool, or in any way preying on him. Standing slowly, he considered her offer. Predisposed as he was to her point of view, whatever it might be, his consideration brought him to the conclusion that what she said made the only possible sense. It was hardly fair that he ask her to disrobe when he himself had made no indications that he was prepared to do the same.

"My sweetest angel, I could do naught but accept your terms. I shall say no more of education and verbal descriptions of these fires that burn inside me. What good are mere words to describe such overwhelming sensations, and why attempt them when the experiences themselves beckon imminently. Nay, let me cast off these wretched garments that keep my flesh from you, that bind my spirit and my essence and prevent them from mingling with yours!"

With that Snape threw off his large black cape, and began to unbuckle his leather belt. Spurred on by his all-consuming desire to prove himself to the object of his affection, he felt no mere interest in seeing her skin, divine though he knew those sights would be. He sought a more complete union, a more perfect consumption.

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[info]softest_diamond
2008-08-07 04:50 pm UTC (link)
Pity, in a way. Satine had rather liked the cape. It was striking. It surprised her, though, that capes were still in fashion in his era. She watched him, making certain to appear interested. And, indeed, she was interested. Severus was one of the younger gentlemen with whom she'd had the pleasure of spending her time; Christian had been the youngest. A smile played across her face, reaching all the way to those cold, blue eyes. She slid one hand through her hair, biting her lower lip. It was all she could do not to pounce him and disrobe him herself, though she doubted that was what he desired, no matter how passionate. She was not, in any way, playing him for a fool or taking advantage of him. Truly, she was acting in all kindness. Still, she had to wonder if he would understand that she was the type of woman who belonged to no man, every man, and one man all at the same time. No matter, really, as she was having more fun than she had in quite some time. It was always wretched when things went sour; being in a love triangle was the most sour that they had ever become.

"Very nice," the courtesan murmured. She let her arm drop to her side and took a step forward, leaving her dress behind. A chill ran down her body, and she knew for certain that things were looking up. Normally she would have gone into a coughing fit from even the slightest breeze. Really, she'd never have imagined being fully stripped in the fresh air before. Consumption tended to prevent such things. Moving to him, she wrapped her arms around him once more, not minding too terribly that she was probably getting in the way of his fulfilling her request to disrobe. She nuzzled into his neck a little, whispering softly. "Take me in your arms and love me." It was a simple request, yet so heavy with meaning and emotion. She was doing quite well with herself. Now she was certain that she was still the Sparkling Diamond of the Moulin Rouge.

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[info]severelyseverus
2008-08-08 09:23 am UTC (link)
Snape, who had been about to reach down and lift his heavy black robe over his head, was momentarily confused when Satine stepped forward to embrace him, but he had got to the point where he was no longer worrying much about these things, and was just taking her as she came, more than happy to accept whatever she gave him. Seeing her bare, bereft now of her sparkling accoutrement, she glowed still in his eyes, only the glow came from inside.

He returned her embrace, tentatively at first allowing his privileged fingertips to rest against her smooth naked skin, then gripping her with more confidence. Did she not love him? Was she not giving herself to him, bare and vulnerable? His breath caught in his throat at her words. Her request was the embodiment of his sincerest desire. He wanted nothing more than to use his arms, legs, all his members, to show her how much he loved her. Murmuring his eternal pledge to fulfill her words, he wrapped her slender, pale body in his still-robed arms and kissed her.

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[info]softest_diamond
2008-09-27 01:16 pm UTC (link)
Satine allowed herself to be swept into the kiss. It was a dramatic gesture. Already he seemed to be making progress, coming out of his shell just a little bit. A wry smile crossed her face, and she held him tightly. It may have been a passing fancy, but in this moment it was true. Sighing contentedly, Satine allowed herself to fall into this, and the moment. She'd worry about consequence later; she had done things far more terrible than this. Surrendering herself to him, she allowed herself to be swept away into the day of passion that would be both fun and educational.

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