The Galaii Villa

It was night time when they arrived, the stars sparkling overhead. A circle formed in the backyard garden of the luxurious villa, seemingly at the center of a small plaza, where graceful statues stood all around. The moon seemed to beat down directly upon Ganymede and Commodore Gothmog Bloodsail as they appeared.

When they finally stood whole, Ganymede snapped her fingers and fires instantly went up in the sconces around, roaring for a moment before they cast an orange-gold glow over her, sparkling off her gown. She took a few steps forward, then turned to Gothmog, lifting her hands and pulling at the flowers there. Her dress shimmered off her body to pool at her feet, leaving her naked and lush, the silver light of the moon and the golden light of the fire battles over the shadows that played at her delicate hipbones, her navel, the curves of her breasts, the lines of her collarbones, the blushing rose between her thighs.

Yet her eyes were still black, and her hair that curved about her body past her waist just as black as well. The flowers of her gown withered around her feet and scattered behind her as a small breeze picked up, chilling her skin, tracing goosebumps over the olive-toned flesh.

"I want you to take me," she told Gothomog, unashamed of her nakedness, "... as hard as you can." There was some ancient power about her, wrapping its silken arms around Gothmog, enticing him closer, to touch her and to try to dominate her. Ancient and mystical. He might even be able to notice that a quiet drum beat had started somewhere, a slow rhythm. For now.

The morning dawned bright, birds singing in the trees, the fountains babbling as the water ran clear. The sun was warm, even though it only just broke over the horizon, and the breeze that drifted over Commodore Gothmog Bloodsail's naked skin was a welcome one.

Especially since he himself was covered in bruises and scratches and bites that spoke of a night full of violence and sex. "Gothmog," came a gentle voice, and when he'd open his eyes he'd find that he was lying asleep on the mosaic tile of that roofless gazebo, two statues destroyed and in ruins and two more having lost their arms. He had been given no pillow or blanket, and was left naked at its center. But, considering he was a badass orc, perhaps he'd have nothing to complain about.

Ganymede was standing in a sheer, white robe that she didn't even both to tie at her waist. Her delicious body could be seen beneath, along with the marks that his hands had put on her -- and his mouth. Her eyes were a bright meadow green this morning, her hair an ombre shade that swept from black to white at the tips.

"Good morning," she said to him, and handed him the large cup in her hand.

"Not particularly," she answered the orc back, her gaze dropping to watch shamelessly as he moved to tug on his pants. His shirt and vest, however... mm. Likely ripped to shreds. Whoops.

"Would you like to join me for a swim before you go?" Ganymede asked, stepping closer to him and lifting her hands to touch him, to settle them on his chest and let them caress feather-light over her skin, her fingertips tracing marks she had made, marks that were already there. She particularly adored their size difference, and especially liked the way his dark skin contrasted against her own.

And she liked that he was hung like a fucking horse.

"It might sting a little, but pain is just weakness leaving the body," the nymph murmured as she let her head tip back and looked up at him.

"Hm," she said, a quiet sound.

Brushed off. She had expected casual, but brushed off? She'd remember it. "I would hate to keep you tied up," Ganymede said as she stepped back from him, her sheer robe drifting around her, taking her touch away. "The door to outside is.. somewhere." She gestured with a hand toward the magnificence of her villa, given they had arrived (and then stayed) in her backyard.

She turned away from him and stepped down the shallow steps that took her away from the circular pavilion where she'd let an orc do things to her that were possibly illegal in other countries, and moved toward the long, shimmering pool that ran down the center of this particular garden. Letting her robe slip off her body, she smoothly dived into the waters, naked as a-- well--nymph, and went for her morning swim.

Gothmog would be left to find his own way out. In these early morning hours, her villa was almost like a ghost town. Not a single servant in sight.

The life of a man who roamed like Krypt was one of harshness, blood and callouses. Mud was often the most luxurious bed one could expect, a bed he often had no choice but to lie upon while he etched his living taking petty jobs that involved one of the only talents he had - violence. When not hired, Krypt's only choice was to continue to travel until he found someone who would, though lately that had been a more than difficult endeavour.

Whether it was fate that brought him to The Galaii Villa that day was difficult to tell, but Krypt found himself enchanted by the richness of the Cyprus trees and the destination that lay at the end of the winding road; that villa of luxury, comfort and beauty. Krypt was not usually taken in by such things, but after so many months on the harsh, open road, he found himself edging closer and closer to it all the while wondering who it could possibly be who lived there.

"Hm."

Krypt wasn't sure what his plans were. He could only hope that the residents were charitable.

Krypt's eyes ran over the naked form of the female creature, though his brief examination was made from a feeling of curiosity rather than lust. He had never before seen a creature with such features, but at least she had approached him in conversation instead of aggression.

"I'm not aware of your mistress, but if I would rather be a pleasant surprise than a nasty one," he replied cautiously, a feeling like he was being watched slowly creeping up his spine. "I'm not even sure where this is."

After a moment, he decided it would be best to introduce himself for the sake of continued politeness. "My name is Krypt, may I ask for your own?"

The place was beginning to feel strange to Krypt, as though he was being drawn into something beyond him and above him. He had only his muscles to rely on, but what good would they do if this was some sort of trap? He had heard tales of men being lured into a place only to be killed and eaten, yet Krypt found himself unable to just turn and walk away. Some large part of him wanted to find out what was at the end of the path.

"Where do you think I should go?" He asked the satyr, glancing at her.

"People who make uninformed decisions tend to be fools, but I understand your meaning," Krypt replied as he stepped away from the female creature and moved on down along the path towards the villa. He was anxious to meet and introduce himself to the owner of the house, while at the same time rather tired of woods and trees and wilderness. Such things were the norm for him, so why shouldn't he chase luxury for once?

He felt unease about the sudden stillness of his situation and considered turning back and leaving, but the satyr's words of finishing a started path made him feel that to do so would not be looked upon kindly by the they who were watching him from the trees. Perhaps he could fight through them if need be, but he had no idea how many there were. He looked down and checked to make sure his sword was still there, then carried on towards the fountain.