She knew the minute their eyes met. They were the same. Outside, a bookish intellectual type who hides behind computer screens and masks. Inside, a ravenous and unquenchable thirst. At a lecture for the liberal arts center of Atlanta, discussing BDSM in literature and it's effect on women's empowerment, they all gathered. Some were genuinely interested in the topic, but Lily came for the sheer excitement of a discussion of her guiltiest pleasure so publicly.
Curiosity had gotten the best of her. From the second they landed and she saw the look on The Doctor's face, she was intrigued. Even more so when he forbade her from leaving the TARDIS.
The smell of blood was everywhere. The charcoal boats they had boarded from could still be heard bobbing against the rocky shores. They hadn't pushed very far to have obliterated their enemy so quickly. Trygg wiped the battle from his face with a rag and looked about. His men were already ransacking the camps of the enemy, bringing whole animal skins, casks of wine and salted meats to the tent is his army's now being constructed. He sat on a nearby monstrosity of a rock and began removing his armor. His pale skin looked almost translucent with the crimson stains that covered him. His blonde hair now pink with savagery. The water at the shore was far too violent to wash, so he made for large, still standing tent in the hopes of a wash basin. Just passed the flaps, he was surprised to find a tub with water still steaming in it. This peaked him, as he didn't see any naked soldiers dead on the field. He circled the area slowly, and behind a wall map, he saw feet sticking out below. A woman's feet.
La Maison de le Joyeux was an unconventional type of theatre. Not only in what was shown but how and who it was shown to. The features varied from simple orgies to the darkest display of degradation for unspeakable prices. Naturally, the spectators were shamelessly rich and all lavished in different fashions. Each performance took place on beautifully decorated stages and intricate sets, while each audiences' section was divided carefully. The front and middle aisles were reserved for frequent attendees and participants while the back and flanked rows were for the new and curious. Tonight was their debut in the Letting Room. Liana and Spencer, husband and wife, had been attendees of the theatre for years. It's how they met, and together they had known a life of pleasure most only dream of. Spencer had been practicing endlessly to perfect his piano so that he could play the songs he loved flawlessly. This started to cut into their sex life because they were constantly screwing. Six years and not a night had passed that they both weren't breathless and battered by sunrise. During his piano perfectionist period, Liana had to get more creative. He was driven when it came to his music and not even the temptress of his very soul could turn his head, she knew this of him. Instead, she challenged him to withstand her tearing at his flesh, which he was particularly fond of, while he continued to play. He fucked her madly on top of the piano at the suggestion alone. This is why he loved her, married her, made her his. She knew him so well.
The train pulled into the station and she began to breathe heavily. It had been 8 long months since the last time she was near him. An eternity for souls that have mated. The steam from the engine surrounded her, causing her blonde locks to tumble further to her face, and the screams of the whistles barely drowned out the pounding of her heart. People began to shuffle off the platform and with each new shadow, her pulse quickened. She fears she may faint soon. Suddenly, she felt woozy and took in a sharp breath. He was near. Her eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on her truest and deepest weakness. He had already seen her, for his penetrating eyes were already fixed. He glided through the mass of people as if they parted ways for him. His tall and slender build made him less than overwhelming, but his gait and movements commanded others to cower and gape, which they did. He crossed the distance between them and embraced her quickly. Spectators turned as such a public display was considered wanton. She cared nothing for the eyes that leered, only his arms around her. She softened against him and whimpered a sigh of rapture into his ear. He was hard immediately. She pulled back and looked into his strange colored eyes.
The fire was building, he could feel it as he turned each corner. The closer he came to his destination, the hotter it became. The red crept into his vision and his breathing grew more ragged. The monster was unleashing and he looked around, almost frightened for the public around him. Almost. Soon the guttural sounds within him were rising and he was sure they would escape him before he made it. Around the last corner. Stalked to the French doors and threw them open. Took the stairs three at a time and nearly kicked down the tall white door at the end of the hall. There she lay, draped across the bed with her dark hair flowing down her body. Her powder blue nightgown barely covered her frame and a wicked smile curved on her lips, as if she knew, as if she had called to him...