Blackwater Islands take me into your loving arms

@Whip : short post, sorry!

Things were changing. Kalika felt new, as if every bit of her shell had once again fallen away. She walked around the Southern Shore, her eyes scanning the coast for tidepools and using her paws to touch on the tiny starfish inside of them. Her arms would yank back as they would move and slide, though she eventually managed to get the hang of her little game. As excitement grew, Kalika called for Whip, hoping that he would come to her side so that she could share this moment with him.

When the call rose, Whip had been inland. He had taken to the Thistlewood to wander and to be alone. However, he was still near enough to arrive in a timely manner, as he had only been wandering the southernmost reaches of the forest. Yet, for a moment Whip stood fast in hesitatation. The muscles in his chest clenched and he felt a fresh wave of fear crash over him as if her were caught in the undertow. The voice belonged to Kalika, who had recently threatened to take Whip's life should he not keep her happy. A small, frail internal voice told Whip to hide -- to make himself both scarce and small -- but he knew he need answer, lest she turn her anger to him again.

Reluctantly, Whip would do whatever was necessary to keep Kalika happy, thus ensuring his own survival.

When he made his way to the beach, Whip would not look directly at her. He kept his head down, gaze directed at the tide pool at Kalika's forepaws. He approached at a pace that was both slow and methodical. She was a gamble. A coin flip. As always, Whip did not know what to expect of her.

Kalika continued to giggle in a most childish fashion, her own voice so loud that she'd barely even heard Whip approach. It was his slim, boyish figure that caught her eye, urging her to turn her head and face him. As she did, she gasped joyfully and walked over to him, placing her snout under his and gently pushing up so that they might lock eyes. Look how beautiful it is, she whispered, now turning back to face the tidepool and the life teeming within it. I thought you might enjoy it.

After giving a sheepish smile and breaking their proximity, she sat back on her haunches and gave a curl of her tail to signify her humiliation. I want to apologize, Whip. Sometimes I am not myself. That in no way meant that she would hesitate to make good on her word, but she did want him to know that he meant something to her, even if it was only as a drudge.

He need not approach further because Kalika closed the gap between them herself. She touched him was a surprising tenderness. When their eyes met, Whip's expression was that of confusion. Like any coin-flip, there were two possible outcomes. Whip had seen both sides of Kalika. First, the tender, engaging side. Second, the angry storm-like side of her personality. The former was much easier to deal with. Whip breathed a sigh of relief, but he still found himself unsettled by the way Kalika flipped between her two faces.

She directed his attention elsewhere. To what, Whip did not yet know. "Where?" he asked, but he was then directed to the tidepool. Whip stepped forward to get a better look. Kalika did not lie, it was full of life and color. It was both rich and interesting. She was right -- he did love it.

He studied the pool intently with rapt attention. Only when an apology passed her lips did Whip turn away. He looked to Kalika, jaw threatening to hang agape. "Oh that, um -- yeah," Whip grimaced, unsure how he was supposed to respond. "It's okay," he then said. The damage had still been done and he would always fear her more now than he had before. Now, he only wished to avoid her ire in the future.

No, no it isn't. Kalika took a deep breath to prepare herself for the L she was about to take before delving into this unknown territory. I wasn't right in threatening you. I hope you will forgive me Whip. There was a gleam in her large eyes, a slight lay to her ears. As she looked into his eyes, a slight lean to her stance, she thought internally about how demeaning it all must have appeared. Here she was, a Siren and advisor hopeful to the Matriarch, bowing to a male. And a drudge of all things! Kalika thought to herself that for as much work as this whole "emotionally-concious-and-totally-empathetic" thing was, she'd better be getting something in return.

Kalika seemed intent on looking Whip directly in the eye. He diverted his gaze after a few uncomfortable moments. It was nothing against Kalika in general (her angry outburst aside), but Whip found it difficult to look anyone in the eye for a prolonged period of time. Whether it be her, Galateia, or even his own siblings -- Whip found that single gesture to be the hardest of all to muster, as it seemed to contradict something instinctual. Whip took her apology in stride, just as he was supposed to. "Okay," he reiterated. "I forgive you." He would still, however, hold on to the faint threads of her anger in his memory.

He drew his gaze back to the pool for a moment, falling silent for a long, bloated beat. He then turned back with a question. "Are we going to do that thing we did the first time?" he asked. Part of him wondered if the pool was truly why she called him here. Or, had she other plans for him?

Although it displeased Kalika to have Whip break the stream of eye contact which she had been sure to secure, she knew better than to argue with him on it after making such an effort to repair the damage she had already done. Instead, she cooed at him as a mother might her son, making a soft set of tsk sounds and making sure to trail the movement of his head with her own. He asked a fair question, though his childish manner made it sound ludicrous on her ears.

But then with all things considered, Whip hadn't been that bad.

Do you want to? She'd truly had innocent intentions in bringing him here (relatively innocent, considering nothing about Kalika was pure), but he was a maturing young man. Perhaps he had a different agenda, and not one that she was particularly against either.

With mommy issues abound, Whip truly didnt know what he wanted. There were times that Whip wanted the touch of another. Craved it more than anything else. Something, anything physical; tangible. It was a strange new thing he experianced. Something that came from age or his maturing body. Otherwise, most of the time Whip wanted to be alone. He fell victim to another long, bloated pause as he considered it. He shrugged his shoulders. "Yes," whispered Whip.

He cleared his throat and spoke again. This time, with more gusto. "Yes." He turned from the tidepool to look at Kalika. With a single step, Whip carefully tested the waters by drawing near to the Siren.

Kalika kept her face neutral, though with an added bit of gamine charm. She intended to make him beg after the first weak attempt made to assert himself but Whip was quick in making up for it with another bold request. He took a step into the water signaling for Kalika to take one back; this was a game to her. And it was a game that she intended to win. Come closer, then, she whispered, taking another step back and bracing herself to give slight chase.

If he wanted what he thought he did, then he would go after. But if he was just another naive and confused child then he would hesitate long enough to let her get away.

This would not be as easy as last time, Whip thought.

She was his mirror. For every step he took, Kalika took a step back. For a moment, Whip was confused confused by her actions. Did she not want to do it again? Her backstep said no, but her words said otherwise. Was she playing some sort of game? He thought that was the most likely probability; that she had just found another way to toy with him. Either way, Whip didn't mind. The hesitation born of his confusion was only brief, so he quickened his step toward her.

If she wanted him to chase her down the beach, so be it -- however, he hoped that it wouldn't come to that. Perhaps she was just testing him, and she would stop after a few paces. But if she didn't, Whip would do everything within his power to stay hot on Kalika's heels.

Kalika wanted Whip to assert himself. She wanted him to come after her, pull her into him, show her that he held power over her head. That being said, the only logical move to make next was to run. 

She turned, her tail curled high above her back to reveal her rump to him and began at a slow trot. This soon quickened into a sprint, a sweet little giggle pouring from her lips. Having no plan to stop, she looked over her shoulder to see if he had followed or not. Though she suspected that he had allowed his hormones to cloud his common sense, Kalika knew not to expect low things of anyone when there were so many things between them that went unsaid.

If there was one thing that could be consistently said about Whip, apart from the fact that he was something of a somber sourpuss, was: the boy was fast. He had the build of a runner. Whip was thin and lanky, with toned and sinewy muscles. He was practically built for the chase -- born for it. So, as Kalika took flight along the beachhead, Whip took off right behind her. Behind him, a jet of sand was kicked up in his wake.

For most of the chase, Whip never fell too far behind Kalika. She was near enough to touch. Though, Whip needed to wait for an opportunity. She ran without sign of stopping, and Whip quickly realized that it was her intention for him to stop her. When the opportunity finally presented itself, and Whip was close enough to make a move, he tried to throw his forelimbs around her waist to (hopefully) bring Kalika to a stuttering halt.

The chase was exhilarating. For most of the chase, Whip managed to keep up with Kalika, but it was the moments in which he caught a lag that excited her the most. Eventually, as she had hoped he would do, Whip threw himself onto her and locked her away into his embrace. Kalika gave herself up to him at this point, as she was never one to play unfair. She allowed herself to fall to her belly, paws down, rump up. Her tail moved to the side as she looked back at the young prodigy with an inviting smile. 

You win.

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He caught her. Though, her swift and sudden stop threatened to throw Whip off balance. He stumbled, staggering awkwardly off of Kalika's back and onto the beach, but he caught himself with a spry, youthful composure that was unbecoming of Whip's usual demeanor. He had won, and Kalika made for damn sure that he knew it. Whip quite liked winning. It was something that he could find himself getting used too... you know, if he had to.

Whip's inquisitive eyes fell on Kalika's form as positioned herself for him. He explored every curve, every detail with meticulous, student-like precision. It was as if Whip wanted to commit the shape of her to memory. He moved upon her fast, claiming his prize as he hooked his forelimbs around Kalika's raised waist. With his body draped over hers, Whip's back paws dug into the soft sand of the beach. Before he knew it, he was inside of her.

This time was different than the last. He moved slower. Each thrust was calculated. His breath fell heavy against the scruff of her neck, which Whip now reached to grab hold of between his teeth.

With that same innocent demeanor as he'd carried last time, Whip was a bit sloppy with his initial entry. Once he managed to steady himself however, Kalika found herself in a place of great pleasure. She allowed him to grab a hold of her scruff, the sudden surprise of which caused one of her front paws to slip into a tidepool, creating an outstanding splash. It was so intimate; the way he chose to make love was in the same fashion of someone far beyond his years. Although impressive, he still had a long way to go. 

Kalika managed to turn herself so that she might be able to catch Whip's gaze. She wanted him to see the effects of his rhythm and the side of the young Siren which he brought out. She wanted him to know of the extraordinary power he possessed to control his subjects, if only with their consent first. Like a proud teacher might praise their pupil, she gave a long whine and a lick to the nearest part of him that she could reach.

Their engagement was a longer affair than the last. Whip's movements were less clumsy, but that wasn't to say he was some sort of Adonis or anything. He was simply learning from his mistakes. It was only his second time with Kalika (or anyone, for that matter), and with that in mind Whip could be described as passible. Kalika turned her head, looking back at Whip as he set himself to a steady rhythm. Their eyes met and Whip thought he could see the fire that burned in their depths. It was beautiful, but in some way that Whip couldn't quite wrap his mind around, it was also terrifying. She tried to lick him, but in the way their bodies connected, Whip was out of reach.

In Whip's experiance, all good things come to an end eventually -- in most cases, it was sooner rather than later. There was a growing tightness in his loins. He had felt it before, last time. He drove deeper, faster, knowing that he would soon reach his end.

The dance was quickly coming to an end. As the slight swell of Whip's member grew within her, she knew that this time would be no different from the last. Although he had learned to steady himself in the time since their last meeting — and his improvements in performance were much appreciated — it seemed as if it wasn't enough for the two of them to reach their point of ecstasy together. Kalika moved forward just a bit, forming a slight space between their waists, almost urging him to space his movements so as to make the entire ordeal more fair for the two of them.

Not yet, she whispered to the boy with a slight whine. Not yet, Whip. Only a few more.

Kalika did her best to prolong the inevitable. Her voice was pleading — needing. She inched forward, but Whip forcibly drew her back in from where her gripped her waist. He was no longer in control and he knew he couldn't stop. At least not now. He felt like a passenger; that all conscious thought had simply taken the side seat while the rest of him acted. It had been the same way last time.

That being said, Whip attempted to buy himself some time. He bit his lip. Hard enough to draw blood. But even the pain hadn't been enough to overpower pleasure. Perhaps it bought him a few seconds. Perhaps not. "Kalika, I cant. I cant. I ca—" A strangled cry passed Whip's lips and he was overcome the full force of climax. His knees buckled at the bend and he drove deep one final time before allowing his body to fall limp along her back.

Kalika groaned with equal parts disgust and disappointment as Whip fell lax against her back. There the two sat, still and exhausted, for only a few moments before the bond between the two of them gave way. She took a few steps forward and began grooming herself, slicking hairs back into place and limbs back into order. You did better, she admitted, but still not good enough. After giving a cold glare and a mock lunge, Kalika turned and began to walk away.