Story for the day: Deviance
A moment between Teague and Qwynlin
When the first rays of the morning peek over the windowsill, Qwynlin gathered her wooden shavings from the between her feet and cast them into the hearth. She shielded her eyes from the cinders smoldering in answer of her offering and prepared for a few more hours of sleep. She looked down at the small bear she had managed to whittle in such a small amount of time. She thought of which sister was to receive this particular toy she thought perhaps Mureadh ought to have it. His representation as protector of their family and friendly advocation recommended the qualities owing to such a gift. She had presumed he was still awake, as he and Teague had been speaking at the table for some time, but when she turned to address her brother, she found him asleep in his chair.
The giant woodsman had passed out during a lull in his discussions with Teague. There was no knowledge of when exactly it was that he had drifted off but his body remained slumped in his chair while his head leaned back and his mouth hung ajar. Sonorous sounds emendated from the back of his throat and his counterpart sitting across from him still drinking was doing his upmost not to laugh.
Teague was tempted to pour the remainder of his cup into Mureadh’s open mouth but the image of the giant woodsman resting languidly in the chair forced him to cover his own mouth to keep from ruining so amusing a picture. It was impossible to resist acting upon his desires or laughing and Teague was persuaded to fancy the latter if he wished to imprint the vision in his mind.
Qwynlin crept over to Teague and bit her lower lip to guard herself against waking her brother with mirth. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him fall asleep like this,” she whispered.
“I don’t think your brother’s ever been drunk before,” Teague replied, pouring himself another cup.
Qwynlin looked away from Mureadh’s snoring expression. “My brother cannot hold his liquor.”
“Which is astonishing for someone of his size. How often does he have a drink?”
“Only on holidays, and just one or two sips. No more.”
Teague observed Mureadh’s sleeping countenance with a smirk. He turned to Qwynlin and offered her the drink he had poured. “Care to have a drink with me?”
She raised her hand to take the cup from the generous thief, paused and put her hand back into her apron pocket. “I had better not. My brother wouldn’t be happy if he knew.”
“Your brother is permitted to have a drink and you’re not?”
“He thinks it’s improper for women to drink,” Qwynlin grumbled begrudgingly, rolling her eyes. “He thinks we’re delicate creatures and need to have our honour defended.”
“And your eyes innocent and your legs closed,” Teague added, urging her to take a sip from the cup. “I know he means well but one drink will not make you pregnant.”
Qwynlin laughed into the bend of her arm and took the drink from Teague’s hand when he had calmed. She looked at it for a moment, lifted it to her lips and stopped to catch the glimpse of deviance in the thief’s eye. She grinned at him and drank the entirety of the cup in one swig. When Teague went to fill her cup once more, she placed her hand on top of it to signify her claims of tolerance.
“Afraid I’ll be the one to unchasten you?” Teague teasingly said.
Qwynlin stared at the thief with an immovable glance. “I wouldn’t be afraid of that,” she whispered, her eyes wily and eager.
Teague raised a brow and half-smiled. “Perhaps one drink will do for you after all.”
Qwynlin laughed into the palm of her hand and while she was occupied with terrible notions and terrific conjectures, she felt the sudden press of lips against her cheek. Her eyes traveled to where her head would not dare turn and she inhaled when she heard the thief murmur horrid suppositions in her ear. Every decadent phrase roused her sensibilities and the feeling of Teague’s pleasant mouth grazing her features with every word evoked ripples of pleasance from his meager touch. He made pleasurable promises of bending her over his knee and beating her with his forceful hand, tying her to various objects to make escape from his wiles impossible, and when he was certain she had learned her lesson he would lick her bitter tears while enjoying her pleas to be released from his delectable torture. She knew his utterances of depravity would come to nothing in the presence of her sleeping brother, but she wished to turn her head and silence him with the force of her unbound aspirations.
This was not to be borne for long. His words were too perfect. To find someone who could excite her differing and particular interests was an impossibility in a community so conformed. She enjoyed the anonymity Karnwyl afforded her but not the sensual loneliness. She wanted to flirt with experimentation and though her people were kindly, they had not the iniquitous mind she craved. When she expressed her own wicked notions as to what she would do in retaliation of Teague’s whispered declarations, his eyes opened in gleeful surprise and he was beset with wide smiles.
“I think you need a beating,” he purred in her ear.
She inhaled when she felt him move aside her hair and closed her eyes when he gently bit her ear. “I do,” she hoped.
Teague made a sideways glance at Mureadh still snoring in his chair and decided to give Qwynlin a taste of his designs. He made certain her brother was not going to revive any time soon and looked over Qwynlin’s shoulder to be equally certain that her sisters would not be awake enough to interrupt. He grabbed Qwynlin by her thin waist and pulled her to sit in his wide lap. He longed to have a woman there and the warmth of her closeness was an immense relief and delight to him. He enjoyed being shrouded in her dark curls and begin overcome by the fierce look her blue eyes. His long fingers traveled the length of her bodice and, as his actions were met with no resistance and baited exhalations, he slipped his hand into her stay and crushed her supple breasts in his palm. He took pleasure in her happy whimpers, watching her writhe on his leg, and when he was assured of her enjoyment, he pressed his free hand around her inner thigh, using his fingertips to grind against that which he desired to please.
Qwynlin bit her lip to silence her cries of elation. The gratifying torment of her breast being compressed in so violent a gesture was all her aspiration. The added joy of his hand abrading her was more than she could have expected. She wondered if his unbridled principles were due to his heritage. She believed there must be Lucentian in him for them to be so alike in tastes. She wished for there to be another room, she wished now that Teague had rejected her brothers offer of sharing a space for the night, and she wished to move to Diras as soon as was possible. She must retrench from her unblemished community and she must be closer to this vile creature who held her in his regard. She bit down as she felt his fingers begin an ascent between her legs. Her exhalations became loud hisses through her clenched teeth and she was bound to retaliate. She turned her head to met Teague’s vicious expression and parted her lips in preparation when he removed the hand on breast to place it beneath her chin.
“Your lip is bleeding,” Teague said softly with a smile. “I see you enjoy hurting yourself.”
Qwynlin simpered. “It’s your fault,” she said, sucking on her lower lip to hide all evidence of their deviant conduct.
Teague scoffed at her accusation but was satisfied that it was by his doing. The glow of her eyes and the manner in which she sucked and licked her lips ruined him. He took hold of her chin with his thumb and forefinger and brought her close to perform the necessary treatment for her. He imbibed her full lips, tracing their plumpness with this tongue, and then consumed them. Her dulcet savour was delight to him. His eyes closed to inundate his senses and his hand moved from her chin to her hair to bring her closer. Her breast pressed against him, her small waist was divinity in his arms, and he was immersed with her. Such a woman could not be left to the frigid wastes of Karnwyl and if she would not come to Diras, he would allow his siblings to remain with her family if only to warm her bed and thaw her anxieties.
A few snuffles and a stir from Mureadh and they were parted. He wanted to tell her that when she was moved to Diras, he would fulfill every promise he made while whispering in her ear but there had been no time. She leapt from his lap and scurried back to her place at the fire before her brother could wake. Teague shifted in his chair and wiped his lips clean of any lasting impression she accorded and drank once more from his cup to give no suspicion as to what he was doing while Mureadh had been dozing.
The woodsman’s eyes fluttered open and the enchantment was gone. The mild watchfulness pervaded the room once more and once Mureadh had roused, so did the smallest of his sisters. He looked about the room and where he was sitting with some confusion in his expression. “How long was I out?” he asked Teague while looking at the morning sun through the window at the far end of the room.
“A few hours. No more,” was the thief’s nonchalant reply. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t bored. I found things to do.”
Mureadh understood the meaning in smirking speech but had seen Qwynlin by the fire and Teague drinking when he had awaken and suspected they may have talked. Surely, nothing would be done in the way of depravity while he was before them and Teague could be under no mistake as to what would happen should his hands find their way toward any of his sisters in an improper fashion. He shook his head at Teague’s intimation and was inclined to disbelieve it until confirmation of wanton activity was presented.
He was going to asked what Teague did while was asleep but was interrupted by his two youngest sisters pouncing upon him and asking him to play. He promised to do so after they had dressed and, in his more awakened state, suddenly recalled that there was a matter of consequence he needed to address with Qwynlin. He stood, stretched and yawned, and went to her place by the fire.
She stood to greet him with her usual agitated manner and fidgeting hands. When her brother’s glance was turned aside, she briefly checked her lip to make certain she had healed and then gave him her undivided consideration. He spoke to her for some time on the subject of her possible removal to Diras, of his intention of finding suitable apartment in the residential quarter, and of perhaps applying for a license to sell her toys in the marketplace. Every sentence he spoke was agreeable to her and she remembered not to be too eager to consent to the arrangement so her true sentiments might yet be concealed.