"Hold still." His voice was almost muffled by the pins he kept clenched between thin lips. "Actually, don't - you're much more attractive when you writhe." His tone wasn't entirely sarcastic.
Legion pulled my hair back, smoothing it against my scalp and jerking half of its length upwards, above my right ear. I wanted to jerk my head back and yelp, but instead I stayed as still as I could and bit my lower lip, rolling my eyes back as though I might be able to see him through the back of my head. With a steady, excruitiatingly slow hand, he coaxed the strands into ponytails on either side of my head, making sure that they were properly pinned and extra tight, extra high. It took a few tries before he was satisfied, and afterwards he reached one hand around to tilt my head back. I watched him watch me in the vanity mirror.
"Ribbons," he murmured. "What do you think about that?" I didn't bother answering, since his other hand had already picked up a couple of black ribbons and held them up beside my face.
"Black - " I started, but he cut me off. We had had the conversation before.
"Is your color. It's a sexy color. It's a color related to sex." I frowned, which made him smirk. "Besides, he's a Moros. It fits."
"You said that about the Obrimos."
"Well, he had a black soul. It's different." Already, he had started braiding the ribbon into one of the ponytails. "Think they'll hold? Wait - here, I've got it." As usual, he had the answer before he really thought about the question. His thinking was full of backwards afterthoughts; it came with the regular use of the mind arcanum.
Already, sometimes I found it hard to remember whether or not I'd slept that night, or whether the daylight fading was just winter bringing on an early evening - then I'd remember it was almost spring. Only really, it was December.
He'd tied a tiny bow at the bottom of the braid. It seemed juvenile to me. "But it's not," he murmured, tugging at the braid and watching my head lean back in the opposite direction of my reflection's. "Well, it is. But that's better, for tonight."
"A Moros pedophile," I said, and he released the braid, starting on the other one. "I thought you wanted a grimoire from that albino Thyrsus lady? You didn't give me anything about this one." Usually, I was briefed at least, well, briefly.
"No. The grimoire can wait, she's out of town for the weekend." The second braid done, he stood and crossed the room, standing in front of my armoire with one hand curled under his chin and the other arm straight across his chest, pondering. "And he's not a pedophile - you're of legal age, aren't you? - he just has...younger tastes." Legion didn't often pause during speech. I figured, he's just being dramatic.
Then he rummaged through the wardrobe - one I wasn't allowed to peek into often, considering that the clothes were specifically for my 'work', as it were - and pulled out a plaid skirt.
"You know, I think we can go without the black, tonight. There's a matching tie for this, isn't there?"
--
Each client had different tastes, entirely unique - well, the ones that had taste, anyway. Some of them were purely vanilla, easy jobs. Show a little skin, wiggle around some, and they get all excited and worked up. Lick your lips, grab your tits, and they were knocked right on their asses.
Unfortunately, not many of them were like that. A fetish was a delicate thing - it could be passionate, or dirty - mostly dirty, really - romantic, obsessive, needy, desperate... The wants reflected the wanter. Some of them wanted to be tied up, to be hurt, humiliated - your basic domme-sub relationship, my heel digging into their back, my crop leaving little heart-shaped marks all across them. I walked in, then walked all over them, and they got off on that.
I had a lot of that. Within a month or so, I'd have enough expertise to open my own professional dominatrix business, if I wanted to. But money wasn't the main objective, and I didn't want it anyway.
--
"I brought you something." Hearing his voice, I jumped, snapping the tome I'd been pouring over shut and knocking over a stack of other books. Legion had a habit of standing in doorways for long amounts of time without making any noise. I wasn't sure if I was more frightened or intrigued by that.
He watched me stoop down to restack the books. "I know that sometimes the nights I send you out are a bit spaced out," he continued, and I settled back down in my bed, crossing my legs as he crossed the room towards me. "And I've noticed that that somewhat...inhibits your skills."
I wanted to seem offended, but there was no point in that. Instead, I tilted my head back to look up at him. He stared back down at me, but he wasn't looking at my face.
"You know how I feel about you...using your fingers." This time, the pause wasn't for dramatic effect. It was rare that Legion was verbally specific about any kind of sexual action, although it came up in conversation often enough these days. "I can't have you bruising yourself up and getting sore if I have to send you out in a couple nights." He set the brown paper bag he'd had in hand in my lap.
I reached in, and pulled out a plastic case - like the kind they sell action figures in, molded specially to fit the product - only inside was a long, thick vibrator, shaped exactly like a bright pink, gel-looking dick.
I pictured him going to buy it, and couldn't help but give a twitching smile.
"Stop that." He walked back across the room and sat in the vanity table's chair, slouching back and steepling his fingers.
That serious face. I looked up from the toy, crinkling the paper bag and rolling it across my knee, back and forth.
"I wasn't sure what kind to get. So, Ember, to make sure this will work correctly, you're going to test drive that one for me."
"And you want me to tell you whether or not it's...like, good?" I wanted to giggle, but the humor of the situation was detiriorating, fast.
"I'll know whether or not it's sufficient." Shifting around in the seat, he grabbed a cushion from the floor shoved it between his back and the back of the chair, getting comfortable.
"Alright. Well, uhm...thanks, Legion. That was thoughtful." And really, considering the situation, it was. I uncrinkled the bag and pushed the package back inside, re-opening the book.
He heaved a sigh and stood, shaking his head in a way that usually meant I'd misunderstood a point in his teaching, I'd messed up during a lesson, botched a spell, misread a rune. But this time, he walked slowly towards me and place his hand over mine, closing the book. The entire time, his eyes locked mine in place.
Legion's other hand removed the plastic case from the bag. Shoving the book aside, to the floor, where it landed splayed open, he began opening the case. It was one of those glued-together, impossible plastic coverings, but he ripped it open without any trouble.
Still staring me down, he rubbed the soft head of the vibrator against my cheek. Not once did he blink. The tip of the fake dick pressed against my lips, rubbing back and forth across them slowly. Then he dropped it into my lap and walked back to his seat, settling down again.
He made a circular motion with one hand, as if to usher me on.
Fingers quivering, I picked the thing up and leaned back onto some pillows. The whole time, although my eyes were closed, I could feel his gaze blazing into my skin.
