My Heart Doth Wander
Chapter 15 : Dominance VS Seduction
I love the way you look at me,
I love the way you smack my ass
I love the dirty things you do
When I have control of you
I can't control you, you can't control me
I need to feel you, you need to feel me
(You're not the one for me, no)
So why is it evil – you and me?
"Control" – Puddle of Mudd
Casssar had grabbed Snively by the hand and led him away from the Command Center. He had protested, complaining about having to keep constant watch. She ignored him; she even dug her thumb-claw in, drawing a bead of blood.
They reached her intended destination. His bedroom, that spacious metal room that had once belonged to Julian. She scooped him up and tossed him onto the huge circular bed, pouncing onto the mattress beside him.
"I'm going to have you today," she whispered, voice savage, "whether you like it or not."
He couldn't tell if she was joking or serious. Her eyes were gleaming and her mouth smiling...but that tone? It made shivers dance along his skin. He didn't know whether or not he wanted her to be joking or serious.
She sat back on her haunches, purring, seemingly more cat-like than ermine. He, still laying down, tilted his neck to better see her. She was smiling, wickedly.
"What are you thinking?" He voiced the question she asked him so frequently.
"You told me you could conquer a body almost a decade older than yours," she said.
"Yes," he said, recalling the conversation they'd had the second time they'd met.
"So, how would you, Black Flower?"
"How would I what?" He stared at the small fang jutting from the corner of her mouth. It seemed to gleam of its own accord.
"Dominate me."
"Dominate you?" he laughed, then sat up, eyeing her cunningly. "First, maybe I'd disarm you. Tell you how beautiful you are."
"Flattery will get you a smile, perhaps," she said, and grinned. "But nothing further."
"I'm just getting started..." he leaned forward and hissed into her ear. Further flattery. Flattery that turned into more lustful prattle. She giggled impishly as he described her body in more flattering...more graphic terms...She purred.
"Then perhaps..." he lightly took her ear in his teeth, nibbling. Then he moved the nibbling downwards, along the neck, to the shoulder. "Maybe I would add a touch of teeth."
"A touch of lips as well?" She whispered, laughing raspy in her throat.
He obliged. He kissed her neck, her chin. Then his hands lighted upon her cheeks and his mouth lighted, forcefully, upon hers. He kissed as long as he dared, as long as he could breathe.
He drew away, breathing raggedly. "Then, why you're still dazed from that..." (his own head was swimming) He slid his hands from her cheeks to her shoulders, down to the breasts...and where his hands moved, his mouth followed.
He felt the purr rumble through her skin. She enjoyed that. "This is more seduction than dominance, Black Flower."
"Aren't they the same?" He breathed against her fur. Indeed, she was seducing him without moving, without even responding. Her body was seduction and it dominated him...it made him want and need.
"No."
"You don't think seduction is dominance?" He was quiet for a long moment, trying to show his lust and love via action, letting his tongue speak words of a different language. She sighed.
"I suppose...a form." One of her long-fingered hands moved up his back, caressing the shoulder-blades through his shirt. He shivered and lifted his own long digits to fumble with his shirt buttons. He wanted her fur on his skin... "But the art of seduction is making the other want you. Making the other need your touch. Making the other feel beautiful and able to drop shields...to drop inhibitions...because you want them no matter what. No matter what flaws."
"Very insightful," he mummered, his shirt hanging open now to expose a pale strip of torso, his mouth kissing down her stomach. Strange how he'd woken up tired and frightful...strange how he'd trekked to her room and heard her crying...strange how he'd started the day dismayed...and now he'd forgotten it all. Now he was entangled in desire.
"The thing is..." Her fingers slid up his bare chest, bringing him another rush of shivers. "I already want your touch...you already want mine. We've already seduced each other, Castdecass."
He stopped kissing, not quite to the junction of her thighs yet, (but tantalizingly close) and looked up at her. She looked quite solemn, her eyes sleepy but scalpel-sharp, dissecting him with her gaze. What was she searching for? He rested his chin on her stomach, meeting the stare unflinching. "Alright, Cass, so?"
"It's only a subtle difference sometimes," she said mysteriously, and he sighed again. It was pretty funny, how, when he finally wanted to indulge with her, that she turned chatty and unresponsive. He did it to her all the time, he realized. No wonder she got annoyed with him. This was probably her way of getting him back...well...what was it she had said?
'Dominate me?' He would, then. With his very own mouth...and he laid kisses all along her thigh.
"You love me, don't you, Black Flower?"
It wasn't a needy question. It was merely asking him to confirm a fact. He did.
"Yes."
"Seduction entails love in some way or another. Real, fake, or misguided, but it's always there."
She was starting to sound like a psychiatrist. He wished she'd shut it...because his breathing was getting heavier and his temperature was rising. He shrugged out of his shirt, but the cool touch of air did little to relieve -this- kind of heat. He directed his kissing to the insides of her thighs, breathing in the wild musky scent of her. Lovely dusty-fur perfume. He swore she'd never smelled better than today.
"Dominance doesn't need love."
His mouth was getting close to sacred territory, and he really didn't care what the hell this was. Seduction, dominance? It didn't matter...meaningless babble...it could be anything it wanted...as long as he got to his destination. His fingers trembled as he dragged them up her legs, kissing more fervently, drowning out her words, ignoring her...
Her hands lighted on his shoulders, like she was going to give a massage, her fingers curling. But she didn't rub or caress. Her claws dug into his flesh hard enough to draw blood and he cringed, letting out a startled yelp.
Her olive eyes were glittering as his eyebrows flinched, his mouth pouting as he rested his head on her stomach again, looking up at her. "Why-" he started, but she interrupted.
"You failed my request," she said, tone ominous. "You couldn't ever dominate, Cast, never with your love. You still care too much for my pleasure."
He narrowed his eyes, pout twisting into a sneer. She wanted to play silly little violent games, then, did she? Her claws were still digging into him, and he felt his skin flinch away. Fine, then, fine.
He sat up, dislodging her arms from his shoulders, and glared down at her. Her pearly tooth was glinting, and her eyes...smoky, veiled. He couldn't see a challenge there, but she surely was...she was trying to provoke him, somehow. He didn't even care about her motives. Riled. Lustful, craving, lecherous, all those lovely words were fit to describe him right now.
He grabbed her wrists roughly, one in each hand, and pinned them above her head, lowering his head to kiss her mouth. His teeth met her lips, biting. "My love isn't ordinary," he hissed, releasing one of her arms, dragged his free hand down her body. Her fur felt like silk sliding against his bare chest. Harshly that free hand lighted on her breast, harshly it groped and squeezed. He thought she would gasp, or squirm.
She didn't. She didn't say anything. He pressed his mouth against hers, harder, trying to convey his want to have her, to take her forcibly, to pleasure them both, he wanted her to feel that he wanted her.
She pulled her head away. Yeah, he must be scaring her now, with his dominating lust. A purr rumbled in his throat and he lowered his head to the junction of her shoulder and neck, laying a hard nip. Aroused, hard, fevered, wanting, those were adequate words to describe him now. She could feel all that, he knew, grinding his pelvis against hers, she could. Indeed.
She took in a breath. He raised his head, blinking, wild musky fur-scent on his lips, and his eyes glittering, waiting to hear her gasp, or moan, or breathe his name, or say she wanted him too, say that she couldn't stand it anymore.
She laughed at him.
"Black Flower...You still care too much."
From the mouth of Sonic the Hedgehog, Way Past Cool Freedom Fighter!
I was paired up with that jerk Thunderhill again. Not cool. But I wasn't with him alone, this time. We had Lupe and the other wolves with us. And Ant. Yeah, not like Ant is a big help or anything, but I just know he's going to manage to screw something up. Hopefully not anything major. We were smart enough not to give him a gun or explosives.
It was cool to be teamed up with Lupe. She's a real neat girl. Strong and tough and clever. She's like Sally a lot, I guess. But different. Older, somehow. Like Sally might be when she's old. I had a funny thought then, of me and Sal. We're walking through the gardens of the palace, and Sally is holding my hand, and her other arm is crooked to hold a baby. The baby is looking over at me with these incredible deep blue eyes...just like her mother's. I feel already, such a sense of pride at seeing those eyes, even though they're not real. Someday, maybe they will be.
Funny. I almost laughed. I never really thought of me and Sally so seriously before, like us making a family and stuff. I'm really too young for that sort of thing. But wayyyy in the future, when Snively is defeated and everything is cleaned up and safe again, maybe then...I'll be old enough. I'll be ready.
"Alright," Lupe's pleasantly accented voice rang out. "Sonic, Thunderhill, you two head down that street. The others and I will go this way."
We had explosives in our packs. Without a word, Thunderhill and I headed down the dark road. We planted explosives at every building we crossed. But unlike other missions, our goal wasn't to destroy the buildings. Our goal was to make as much chaos as possible. To detonate everything at once. There would be rubble and fire and smoke, a bit of destruction scattered everywhere, not just centered in one spot! If that didn't rattle ole NeedleNose, I don't know what would.
Thunderhill finally looked over at me when we reached the end of the street. "Where to next?" He stared over at the towering Command Center. "Maybe we should trot down there and find the little skin-beast. I've got a knife with his name on it."
"Uh no. We're sticking to the plan, buddy."
Man, did I sound like Sally. Stick to the plan? It was another almost laughable thought. But hey, this plan was good (well... 'ok' anyway) But I'd rather stick to the most stupidest plan then to do anything Thunderhill wanted. The big oaf.
"Puh." He narrowed his eyes at me, shaking his head in disgust. "So what happens if he comes out from all these fireworks? Are you guys going to go up to him and nicely ask him to surrender?"
"Maybe," I said icily. "If Needlenose does surrender, why would we hurt him? He'll already have lost. He'll already be defeated."
"He's an enemy. He's a KILLER," Thunderhill retorted.
"Doesn't mean WE have to be!" I gritted my teeth, glaring down at my watch. "C'mon. We have ten minutes left."
I could've planted all the explosives myself in way less time then we were taking, but part of the plan was keeping a low profile. When I used my juice, all of RoboTown knew I was here. That's what they looked for. They never expected me to just be walking around.
It was a real drag walking, especially with Mr. Doof, but we covered another street. Sally had told me she was planning quite an explosion somewhere dramatic. The only place I could think of was where we'd been last time. The Statue of Robotnik. We'd already torn down the flag.
It was going to be the Statue, I just knew it. And Sally thinks I'm not clever. Or maybe that's not the word for it. Sally thinks I'm more open...more predictable. Easy to read. She thinks she's a closed book that no one can look into. Even with me...the person who knows her better than anyone! She thinks I can't see into her, either. But I can.
At the entrance of the next street, Thunderhill threw a bundle of explosives into a dumpster. I scooted up a drainpipe and placed a bundle on the windowsill of the adjacent building. It used to be a hair salon, I think. Now, when I looked down through the window, I could see junk. Piles of metal and gears and rusty pipes. Some kind of a storehouse, not for anything important, by the looks of it.
I squinted and looked skyward, at the Command Center. The skies above were empty. No patrolling hover units, no nothing.
"Hope your dragon friend don't get caught," Thunderhill said. "Would be a shame for a beauty like that to get shot down."
"Dulcy won't," I glared down at him. "She can outrun those hoverheads, easy."
"Seemed a little thick to me. I was just concerned about her."
"She's just a kid." I slid down the drainpipe and landed lightly before the wolf. "It's easy to forget that, since she's bigger than us."
"Yeah." He checked his backpack. "I've only got a few more left."
"Yeah, me too. Let's get going."
When our bags were empty, we went down to the beach, to the water refinery that we'd attacked before. It was already wrecked, so it was one of the few areas we were leaving alone today.
We were the first ones there. Thunderhill stood looking out over the water. The smell was disgusting, as usual. I really hated this side of the city. The smell was like...everything bad lumped into one aroma. Death and decay and rot and sickness. All lumped into one. Eau de Robotropolis.
I'd have to tell Sally that when I saw her next time. She would laugh.
Sally. My Sally would laugh. Would this Sally?
What are you talking about? She's the same Sally.
She's so...
She's so desolate.
My eyes blurred as I stared at Thunderhill's back, his tail blowing in the breeze. Maybe a piece of the beach had gotten lodged into Sally's skin and started to rot. She had something inside her, something that nagged her, some kind of wound...and she couldn't get it to go away.
There was a piece of blue glass at my feet. Maybe that was what had cut her. Sally thought I couldn't always connect things, but this glass was the color of Snerdly's eyes. I knew the little pipsqueak had wormed his way into Sally's mind, HE was the thing rotting.
Thunderhill turned around and sneered at me. "You look a mite upset, boy."
Did I now? I was thinking, if Snively came out...if we did meet him face-to-face today...maybe I would kill him. If it would help Sally. Maybe I would.
I kicked the blue shard of glass into the frothing waves.
"I'm fine." I said.
Snively sat up. Ow. That stung. Her laugh, it cut right through. It stung.
She was staring at him, her lush body still sprawled out before him, but his desire had waned, sudden as a popping balloon, at the presence of that laugh. His eyebrows knit downward into a glare and his bottom lip jutted out in his typical displeased pout. He turned away from her, moving to slide off the bed.
-Dominate me-
Something popped into his head. Something from the morn. Her voice, strung out into moans....such an unfamiliar sound...a voice telling someone to stop. To stop...dominating? Hurting?
Dominance doesn't entail love. It means that one person controls another, for their own pleasure or will, or whatever reason one would want to control another. He turned his body back towards her, his voice low, but demanding. "This doesn't have anything to do with your dream this morning?"
She stiffened, ever so slightly. Most people would miss it, but Snively had become adept at seeing beneath her nonchalant façade. She was affected by things more than she showed. "I told you...I would show you some things from my dream," she said, airily. "I thought it would be interesting."
"Really." He raised an eyebrow. "I don't think so, Cass."
She was unsettled. She mussed her hair, all lazy and smoky, but she was throwing it into her eyes, she was trying to hide herself. "I thought he was buried. I thought it was. But he's still there."
Like a dead body...like a dead Uncle come back to haunt....
Snively shuddered, gritting his teeth against the sudden chill. "Why the fuck do you want to act it out, then?" he snarled, surprised by the flood of sudden anger. For her, or for her father, he couldn't tell.
Her lips curled into a sneer. "Two men that I love...loved. Sometimes you have to compare, Cast. Compare and contrast."
It took a minute, like a gunshot blast to the body...it took just a while for the pain to sink in. When it did, he was astonished. "You..." He recoiled from her, in fear of her feelings, and in fear of himself...what he could mean to her. "You think I'm like...like him?"
A chuckle bubbled up in her throat. It quickly trickled away as he pulled farther from her. "Oh Cast..." She frowned. "No. No."
"Why did you say that, then?" He didn't believe her. He felt sick, sick. "I do. When I touch you...you feel him..."
"No."
He clutched one hand to himself, holding the other out to see it, to observe the skin and tendons, blue veins and fingernails and knuckles...his hand. A killer's hand, yes. But he'd never seen it as a rapist's hand until now. That's what she saw.
"The dream," she growled.
He saw his hands on her, but she wasn't an adult anymore. She was a little girl, with shimmering white fur. She was squirming and crying under him.
'No, please.'
"The dream confused me. It changed things in my head."
'Please stop.'
He was laughing down at her.
'It hurts.'
He laughed down at her.
"He's not supposed to be there. He hasn't been there in so long..."
That's what she saw? She saw her rapist father in him. She saw his hands as molesting selfish things. She saw his lips as lecherous and leering.
"My hands turn into his..." He was nearly off the bed, trying to distance himself from her. His hands were shaking as he clumsily rebuttoned his shirt, trying to hide his pale skin. Erasing the last traces of greedy lust from his eyes, closing them.
"No, Cast." Her voice was low and urgent; she viciously grabbed hold of his arm, pulling him closer to her. Her fingers, black as ebony, intertwined with his stark white digits. Such a contrast. But her eyes matched his, for once. Troubled. "I KNOW you are NOT him. You are nothing like him. His hands brought pain...yours..." She raised his hand to her mouth, kissing each knuckle lovingly. "...bring pleasure."
He couldn't shake the image of her child eyes, large in that small white face, staring up at him. His hand was cold and sweaty in her real-life grip.
"Cass, you never have to do things like this to...to please me. If it makes you uncomfortable..."
The child Cass was pleading with him to stop, but hadn't the adult always oozed seduction...?
She tilted her head, a mischievous smile hugging her lips. His hand was cradled to her cheek. "Cast, what was one of the first things I did when we met?"
"You shot me." He squeaked a laugh.
She chuckled. "Other than that, Cast!"
"You kissed me."
"A wonderful kiss indeed....yesssss..." Her tongue flickered up one of his fingers and he shivered. "The lust between us is mutual, my love."
"Then why..." He was confused, and still wary. She sucked on the end of his fingertip, her eyes glinting. He wanted her again, even more than before, but this want was tinged with guilt. "Was this some sort of test? To see if I'd try to...force you...or..." he trailed off, his white cheeks deepening to scarlet.
She shook her head. "No. I know you aren't that sort."
"I don't understand you sometimes..." He nuzzled his head under her chin. "But I suppose that's ok."
She lifted his hand to rest on her breast; his long fingers curled there, like the kneading of a kitten's paws. "Oh yes, the mysterious element," she said, semi-mockingly. He nodded.
"Yes I suppose you could-"
"Things are being unburied." She was speaking over him, her voice low, distant. "He hasn't lurked in my dreams...for...things are coming to the surface, and I don't know why."
She sounded like she did know. Her voice held the tone of knowing where the blame lay, but not wanting to point it out, not wanting to put someone at fault.
His uncle was coming out of the ground, rotting and vengeful. Were her dark memories coming out of the same grave? Was he digging the shovel in even deeper down than Robotnik...stirring up things within her mind's vaults, too? But her memories were dead, and his were real! She wouldn't die from it, he would. She could fight it, because she was strong. "Don't think about him, Cass. He's gone."
"Is he," she mummered. Her breath was warm against the top of his head.
"Yes."
"They both are," she said obscurely. "They're both gone and yet they aren't."
"Quiet," he said, the burning back in his veins again. He broke away from the cuddling and became lustful again, kissing at her chin. "Don't talk about them anymore."
"Alright," she said. "That sounds like a fine idea."
He smiled deviously, his eyes finally free of guilt and fear. "Now...where were we?"
She took his hand and dragged it up her thigh. "I believe you were about to..."
"Ah yes..." He purred and slid his body down hers, until he was laying between those long black legs again, blue eyes alight as he threw her a sultry glance. She laughed, and this time, it didn't hurt him.
"Don't keep a lady waiting, Black Flower..."
"Alright Dulcy..."
The dragon's scales were smeared with mud and ash from the firepit. She was dark and dirty; she blended nearly perfectly with the Robotropolian sky. She was nervous though, because even gray as she was, a hover unit would probably still spot her.
"Let's get this over quick then. Quick, quick! C'mon!"
She gritted her teeth and beat her wings harder, gaining altitude among the smog clouds. She coughed.
"Just a bit higher..." She was above the balcony of the command center now. Her hands dipped into her belly-pouch, withdrawing an explosive canister. She tossed one down, watching as it clattered down onto the metal floor. It rolled to the edge – she grimaced – but wedged itself between two of the railing bars. She sighed.
There were two more canisters in her pouch. She soared a bit higher, coming close to the building. The surface was incredibly dirty this close; her fingers came away black when she ran them along the plate-metal. She made a face. "Yuck."
The plate metal wasn't the seamless surface it looked from the ground or far away. No, the Death Egg building had many little ledges, ridges and small holes in the expanse of its exterior. She figured the holes were air intakes or outtakes, or some such thing. Whatever. They were big enough to fit an explosive canister. She wedged one in. Another canister was left upon a narrow ledge.
She heard the hum of a hover unit approaching.
"Outta here!" She dived downwards.
"Good work, Dulcy," Sally's voice was low, her eyes dark as she helped the dragon up from her usual crash landing. "You know what you have to do next?"
"Sure thing, Sally!"
"Good." Grimly, the squirrel handed Dulcy a bag of canisters. "Be careful."