twiststheblade | Miho's Room

Josiane kisses her back with abandon, tasting her own blood, tasting the girl's blood on her lips. She runs one finger lightly down the girl's neck, pausing lightly at the hollow of her neck, pressing in, and leaning down to lick it.

Miho moans into her mouth, and then tips her head back when those soft, vicious lips travel down. Her hands grope for the blonde's shoulders, latching on and then running down her arms. She grips her forarms, and with a neat twist, deposits the taller woman on her back atop the futon, tiny dark-haired girl balanced over her.

Smiling, she looks down.

Josiane looks up at the dark haired girl, eyes wide and willing, tongue darting out between her lips.

Well then. What is one supposed to do, really, in such a situation? So she leans forward to capture those delicious lips again, although it is only moments before she becomes distracted by the texture of the throat under her fingers and has to taste it too.

So she does, with lips and tongue and teeth, and her hands are still busy with the flimsy fabric of the bodice, unfamiliar with it's fastenings.

Josiane is anything but unfamiliar, and even from this angle, she's able to reach around and help out. But it's back to the sheath her hands go when they're done, playing and futzing and fiddling with the knife as her eyes glint.

"You like to play games?"

Miho pulls back, resting her hands and a fair portion of her weight on the girl's shoulders.

"That depends on the game."

Her voice is very throaty, sounding for once of the amount she smokes, and also hinting of honey and whisky.

She pulls the blade out of the sheath and runs her finger along it, smiling at the sharp edge. She looks up at the girl, blinking innocently.

"Or . . ."

"Or the players."

She watches the blade, eyes like a mesmerised snake. Or, perhaps, like a cat with a bird it's letting get away, just so it can chase it again. Or perhaps both.

"Why, what sort of games do you like?"

Josie takes the blade and drags it slowly, lightly down the girl's arm.

"I like all kinds. I always was easily bored."

Miho might let out a slight whimper, and she certainly shivers as the knife travels down her arm.

"That's not a terribly exact answer."

Her voice is steady. Too steady, perhaps. So she drops the other knife out of it's sheath, and uses it to flip back the edges of the thin gown, smiling in pleasure at the elaborate undergarments beneath.

"I hope you're not too fond of this," she says, severing the ties holding the shoulder-straps to the front of the corset. It should perhaps be pointed out that she's not a complete philistine, and that laces can be replaced.

"I'm afraid I am not a terribly exact person."

The tone of her voice is laughing, challenging, and turns more to a gasp as the laces are broken.

Once more, Miho cannot but let her lips feel marks on the blonde's skin, and she leans down to test the red and white marking left by the tight straps.

"This," she states, breath ghosting over skin, "Fastens at the back."

Josie nods sadly, her swollen lips pouting. She arches up to feel more of the girl's body against hers, and reaches around to her back, nails meeting skin.

Miho shivers, knowing that the girl still has the knife in her hand. Her own knife, she lips briefly into it's sheath, swiftly unbuttoning her shirt and shrugging it off to reveal the ubiquitous scarlet bra. Thus divested, she slips the knife out again (-snk-) and reaches behind the blonde.

Starting at the bottom of the corset, she slides the point of the blade carefully under the bottom-most lace, and svers it with a sharp snap. Once the tension has been released by that, she can work more swiftly, without (unintentioanlly) cutting the girl. But she doesn't run the knife too fast up the lacing, for where would be the fuin in that?

Nails are sharp. Knives are sharper. Josiane pulls the sharp blade of the knife in her hand up the girl's back, leaning back into the edge of the blade behind her. She makes no noise, just the quick inhalation of breath as skin breaks.

Miho doesn't lean into the blade running up her back, but she doesn't pull away either. Her breath hisses between her teeth, and her eyes flutter closed for a moment.

When the feel of laces on the knife changes to skin, she slows, but doesn't stop. The blade moves now with exaggerated care, but it is still pressed into the blonde. A thin line of blood follows it's path now, and when there are no more laces left, Miho continues the line up to the girl's hairline, before pulling the knife away. She pulls herself away as well, and the corset which had been held up only by their bodies pressing together slips onto the bed.

The hand not holding the knife traces the girl's spine, and returns, fingertips glistening red. One fingertip paints the blonde's lower lip, pressing gently.

Her tongue comes out, running along the finger of the girl, her face curving into a smile as she pulls the finger into her mouth. Carefully tucking the blade of the knife away, she slides the straps of the girl's bra off of her shoulders, leaning up as best she can against the girl's weight to suck at the delicate skin there where shoulder meets neck.

It must at this point be noted that, although Miho favours black for her clothes, she likes white on her bed.

She hums pleasure, and runs gentle hands up the torso before her, tracing the lines of ribs and soft swell of breasts. She pauses to cruelly twist nipples which are swiftly soothed by soft touches, and her hands continue up. The fingers of one hand splay along a collarbone, thumb pressed lightly into the hollow at the base of her throat.

Her hand slides up further, encircling a slender white throat, and there is another of those cruel kisses, before she pushes the girl back, and sullies her pristine white sheets.

Josie can't help but moan and squirm under the girl's torments, her mouth falling open in pain love pain ecstasy and her hand falls to the side, dropping the blade. Eyes closing, hissing as she meets the bed.

Miho scoops the knife up and returns it to it's home, even as she follows the body before her down onto the bed. Wouldn't do to roll over on it, now. The other knife goes away also, and she returns to lips teeth hands to work on delicate white skin.

Delicate the skin is, bruising and blushing under the girl's lips. Josiane leans up, fighting not to be let go, just for the feel of the fight.

There is a throaty giggle, and Miho fights back, fingers bruising skin, jeans clad legs tangling in abandoned skirts. She rises, pins the woman's hips bwteen her knees and twists them, so that she is now half-buried under fabric, and looking up at the blonde, half-smiling.

Josie tries to lift her legs, skirt falling back and bare skin scratching against rough fabric. Her head arches back, thin skin of her neck showing.

"What sort of game is this?"

With another throaty chuckle, Miho fairly unceremoniously slings the blonde across her lap, and tugs off the skirts. She might even stoop so low as to administer a stinging slap to the buttocks thus bared, especially as they are positioned so temptingly, covered only by the sheerest cotton. Then the cotton undergarments are smoothly removed as well, and the now-naked blonde is rolled back onto her back.

"The kind of game that gets you naked," she laughs.

Swinging one leg, she straddles the woman's hips again, one black-clad leg snugly either side, fabric seeming even darker against pale skin. She takes one wrist in either of her own small hands, and quite slowly and deliberately handcuffs her to the head of the bed.

You didn't honestly think she didn't still have those somewhere handy, now?

Then, reaching sideways, she brings out a large square of white silk, which she slowly and deliberately folds into a long rectangle. Dark brown eyes fastened on blue ones, she leans forward, and silently covers those beautiful blue eyes.

-snk-

The silk falls over her eyes, smooth as skin, and she grins, biting her lower lip, letting her teeth sink into it, delighting at the pain. She pulls at the cuffs just a little, just for show, moving into an exaggerated pout while her legs squirm for just a little more contact.

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