Private Tales Silver Stars and Golden Bars

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Masika

The Peace Within The Storm
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Masika was tipsy. Not drunk! Not yet! On a scale of one to twenty, she was at a fun eleven. The buzz was nice, having her feel warm even though the dessert nights tended to be cold, and causing her to smile at everyone, whether they looked her way or not. Of course, Masika smiled at everyone when she was sober regardless. There was little that could claim the feat of being able to sour Masika’s mood. And hardly anything could upset her when she was drinking.

Dressed in much more common clothes than what she wore for battle, Masika watched others dance in the center of her favorite Beer Houses: Abydos. Not only did they produce the best beer— the darker the better in Masika’s opinion— but they also had plenty of space. There weren’t any sort of private alcoves for lovers to nestle away into, nor was there an upstairs inn. Abydos was open for every eye to see, and half of it was even outside, with fire pits and stone benches about.

Of course, the more one drank, the less they cared about privacy.

Masika had procured herself a seat at the large bar of the beer house and watched with excitement as each of her friends that she had came out with seemed to pair up with a new individual. Abasi had made it clear to her that he found such interactions to be trivial time wasters. And perhaps it was due to his conservatism but he also seemed to frown on it more that Masika participated in late night events because she was a woman. Although more accurately it was because Abasi had realized that Masika, despite all the goodness in her heart, tended to be quite hedonistic.

He was probably rolling over in his grave when she ordered another beer. Her sixth beer. While Masika most definitely could hold her liquor, it’s not like she had any plans on stopping soon. Even with her friends leaning up against pillars to give bedroom eyes to whatever lover they would take for the night. Masika took hold of the large glass of warm beer the moment it was set on the bar and swiftly took large, hearty swigs before setting it down and have a delightful look on her eye.

The night was still young. And while she adored Abydos, why not go ahead and visit all her other favorite bars on top of it? What a good idea, Masika thought to herself cheerfully, the usual crowd is at Abydos anyhow, if I want to mix things up I should go elsewhere! Perhaps a lounge would suffice, especially one with the very pretty dancers in alluring clothing that often had Masika drooling at the mere sight. Or another bar, maybe the one across the street? They had a different sort of live music than Abydos. Abydos was geared more for Masika’s generation while that other bar across the street suited people who were as old as Abasi had been.

Choices. So many choices. But first, Masika must finish her beer! And pay her tab.
 
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Ahh, alcohol. Truly the only thing that could make Rahma feel comfortable no matter the situation. Well, that and the stuff they put in the hookah at the Viper's Den. Rahma had more than his fair share of blissed out, er, "social encounters" after one too many pulls on that pipe.

Tonight Rahma had decided to mix things up a bit. While the attentions of some of the most handsome dancers he knew were never unwelcome on a weekend excursion, he knew the Den would grow stale if it was the only place he ever visited.

So here he was, several gulps into the juice of some fermented cactus and dancing energetically among a group of strangers at Abydos. There was something to be said for the mirthful friendliness of the Ragashi; hands were on bodies faster than a market thief's on unwatched coin. It certainly didn't help that Rahma was in a slightly nicer version of his usual dress, a good portion of his upper body exposed to the open air by his loose fitting silks.

He had no intention of ending his night here, of course, so advances were rejected. Besides, he still wasn't buzzed enough to enjoy the kind of attention he was getting. That issue took a bit more drowning before it went away. To that end, Rahma broke away from the dance and hit the bar of Abydos, hands slapping loudly upon the counter.

"Ayy! Bartender! A refill over here, if you don't mind!" He hollered before flicking sliding a pair of coins across the counter. Another hollowed-out cactus was delivered in short order, and Rahma turned his head to see a familiar face.

"Oh hey! Fancy meeting you here, Iron-Arms!" Rahma greeted Masika over the din of the party around them, a fanged grin glinting in the firelight. The duo had been working together a lot lately, and he had to admit it was good to see her among all the randoms.
 
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Holding up her beer to her lips, Masika heard Rahma’s voice easily above the cacophony of music and other flimsy conversations. Masika set her beer down— it was mostly finished at this point. She perked up, looking at Rahma at the same time he had turned to look at her. Her face brightened, not just because she was looking at her favorite male coworker with jackal ears and tail, but moreso because for once, he didn’t look… grumpy.

No, he actually looked rather happy for once. It was a rare expression to see on his face.

Rahma!” Was Masika’s reply, right before two ladies wedged themselves in between the coworkers. Perhaps it was from Masika’s average height or it was the fact that the women were tall and long like reeds growing up from the river, but she could only see the large ears on top his head. Blinking in a moment of confusion, Masika grabbed the beer and went around the women to be beside Rahma.

I never see you here.” She said, standing up on her toes and leaning in towards his ear— his human one— so she wouldn’t be shouting into the void. Masika then raised her cup to tap it against Rahma’s and with a smile she added, “cheers!” She heard foreigners say that before, such a funny saying to say when one is about to gulp down a beer!

Rahma
 
The genuine moment of pleased realization Rahma saw on Masika's face resonated with him. Seemed like it had been forever since there was someone that actually wanted to see him. "Wanted," not "needed." Medja or one of her subordinates needed to see Rahma sometimes. The criminals he'd worked for back in Salitra in order to survive needed to see him when they called for him. Nobody ever *wanted* to see him. Except Masika. That was nice.

What wasn't nice was the women that interrupted that look with no regard to their surroundings. Or maybe they were trying to interject and catch Rahma's attention. The demi-jackal didn't care either way; the interlopers were met with an eyeroll and an immediate dismissal as he turned about to follow Masika's relocation.

"Yeah, well, didn't know it was here, really. I probably don't get out as much as I should." He replied, leaning down to speak back to her in a similar fashion. Rahma smiled as she gave the little salutation, a big, genuine smile that made his eyes curve like a pair of little, rising suns.
"Fi sihtuk!" He cheered back in Kaliti, 'bottoms up' as she would understand it, before slamming back his own drink. He hissed afterwards, the booze offering a pleasant burn on its way down, then shivered a bit and looked back at Masika, still beaming.
"So what brings you out tonight, Biceps?"
 
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The rest of her beer was finished in just a few gulps and the cup was placed on the counter top and pushed towards the bartender. Her brown eyes soon were looking up back to Rahma, grinning as well. Yes, he didn’t get out as much as he should have, for if there was one thing about Masika, she loved the nightlife just as much as she loved daytime activities. Sometimes even more, especially after a few beers.

I am with my friends.” Masika said with a hand gesturing away from the bar combined with a glance to where Abydos opened up; seeing her friends rather preoccupied. Well, good for them, she wasn’t the sort to go up and ruin the moment for them. She was quick to look back towards Rahma, perhaps not the best thing to point out to a coworker.

You should go out more, you’d like my friends. They’d like you, too.” Masika said and gestured towards his attire. “Such a show-off tonight! This isn’t the Rahma I know.” There was a pause as she worried if perhaps the words sounded a bit rude. Just in case she added, “I like it, you look good.” She said as she leaned up again so he could hear her better.

Rahma
 
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Man, this girl sure could put back a drink. Must've had a liver as strong as the rest of her. That was definitely something that garnered some respect from Rahma.

The half-beast glanced over at his companion's gesture, observing the apparent friends of Masika. All of them were mingling with what would likely soon be lovers, bodies pressing against bodies much tighter than what was typical of the dance.

"Tch..." He scoffed at them, looking a bit annoyed. He reclined against the bar and hollered loud enough for Masika to hear. "So they just left you alone? Some friends."

Then came the compliments. Then the lean in.
"I...heh, yeah, well..." He swallowed. Shit. Was he blushing? His face felt hot. Maybe that was just the booze. The only thing he was sure of was how suddenly aware he was of how close Masika had to get to talk to him. "I dunno, just feels comfortable. You, uh...look good, too..."

The arm on his exposed left side came up to idly rub the back of his head as his eyes wandered away from Masika to nothing in particular. Shit, another drink was probably in his near future.
 
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Masika laughed, shaking her head at Rahma’s comment.

They’re good friends,” she assured him, “usually by now I’d have my own lover. It’s not their fault that I tend to be picky.” She tilted her head up towards him, angling her neck so he could see the length of it. There was something different in how he was acting. Was he being rather shy? Rahma, shy? Well he did tend to be rather reserved.

It’s different seeing me in a dress, isn’t it!” Masika said with a chuckle and then looked at Rahma impishly. She turned to the bartender, grabbing their attention with ease— she was a regular after all— and held up two fingers on both hands. She then quickly reached into the coin pouch that she had secured around her leg, having to lift up her dress to access it.

With the copper coins in hand, she slid it to the bartender, watching them prepare two sets of a beer and a shot.

On me,” Masika said, taking the shot first to then wash it down with the beer. She shook her head for a moment, letting her body tingle in delight. She leaned her head downwards, forehead arcing towards Rahma’s bare chest but stopping centimeters away with her hair brushing against his skin as her shoulders shook from laughter. Even now, despite her friendly nature, she was careful not to touch Rahma. She had seen on plenty occasions how he was quick to recoil. “Rahma, let me take you on a bar crawl! Do you have an assignment tomorrow? If not the night is still very young! I’ll show you so many things, think of me like… a tour guide in the best city of the world.

Rahma
 
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“usually by now I’d have my own lover. It’s not their fault that I tend to be picky.”

"Huh...I see..." He replied uncertainly, eyes drifting down the length of her neck and then dipping past her clavicle, then lower. Rahma just...hadn't ever seen Masika as the lover-taking type, and something about her voiving the contrary made his blood pump a little faster. "I'm pretty picky too, I guess."

The helf-jackal caught the look she gave him and quirked a brow. It certainly was different; a lot was different about her tonight. He could swear she was flirting with him. It was probably the alcohol in his system informing him, but he really had only looked at Masika as a goofy, fun-loving kid that happened to have herculean strength. Here she was tonight in a drrrreee--holy fucking Six.

Rahma almost choked on his own spit when Masika lifted her dress, instead managing to stifle it down to a muffled cough as his eyes lingered on her legs. Okay, that had to be intentional. Right? No. Nonono, certainly this was still just naive Masika not realizing the social faux pas. He let out a big exhalation and smiled as the bartender deposited a quartet of drinks per Masika's request.

"Well I'll never turn my nose up to a free drink or two." He shined one of those glinting canines at her again, slammed the shot back, then the beer. A fresh wave of warmth rippled through his body bringing fresh comfort and further unwinding his usual uptight demeanor.

Then he realized how close Masika was. Felt the heat of her breath roll across the skin of his chest with each pulse of her laughter, the tingle of her hair as it grazed him. Goosebumps formed across his skin and he shivered. One instinct told Rahma to push her away, but instead his hand reached up to her face and gently brushed the stray hair back over her ear. He leaned down to speak to her, throwing the caution of proximity to the wind.

"Sounds like a blast, Masi. Let's have some fun tonight."
 
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She hadn’t been called Masi in such a long time, not since Abasi died. It’s not that her name really needed a nickname, but there was always something special when a parent bestowed upon their child a name unique to them. Masi had been hers, and in truth, a selfish part of her had refused to let others call her by something so sweet.

Rahma could call her by that, and Masika recognized he had dropped the more playful nicknames. Iron-arms and biceps were indeed good nicknames for her, but Masi was far more intimate.

Looking up at him with one of her signature smiles, Masika tugged at the side of his loose, silky slops to bring him back from reclining against the bar. She felt bold for doing such a thing, it was far more exhilarating than if she were to grab his hand to lead him away.

Plenty of fun, I’ll make sure it’ll be a night you’ll always remember.” Masika promised as they left Abydos. The music could still be heard but out on the street it was at a much more comfortable volume. There was a slight chill that Masika noticed, gooseflesh prickling up along her heavily tattooed biceps. “What sounds best to you? Another bar? Maybe a lounge?” Masika asked the man beside her. “Do you want to go somewhere more for dancing?

Rahma
 
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Another lingering look and wondering moment gripped Rahma as Masika pulled him by his pants and lured him into the night. Strangely, he didn't really mind this. In fact, it almost irked him that he sort of...enjoyed being led around by her...and he liked it more than he was annoyed by the fact, so he didn't issue any complaints about it.

Now walking in lockstep, Rahma spent a few moments considering their options.
"Hmm...I was really enjoying the energy that dancing was giving me."
--And I'd really like to know what dancing with you is like.--
"Got somethin' special in mind, Miss tour guide?" He asked back with a half-cocked smile and sidelong glance.
 
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I looove dancing,” Masika gushed, a bit more pep in her step. Dancing would be perfect, especially now when she was feeling so giddy inside. The alcohol was definitely working, only took her a few drinks. Would’ve been less if she hadn’t ate before coming out. “And I know just the place. It’s close, too.” When she was younger she had frequented the places more suited for dancing far more often than she did now.

Quickly and assuredly, Masika brought them to a place that was indeed close by. It was most definitely a hole in the wall despite the bright lanterns that decorated the doorway so people could know that they were open. There was soft sound reaching them when the made their way to the door but it was only have they opened the heavy bronze door that they could hear the music.

They were greeted with prowling, spiced smoke that careened into the night like sinuous snakes. Arcane light followed by lanterns gave the small, round bar a grandiose collage of blue and purple and green, adding shape to the smoke that was all around. There were no windows with only a top vent far above in the domed ceiling; and while overall there was a headiness in the air there was something about the particular incense being used that wasn’t unwelcoming.

At least, not for a human like Masika.

Still waiting for her buzz to increase into something more— no one could say Masika wasn’t a responsible drinker— she boldly took hold of Rahma’s wrist as she made a steady attempt to move through the throng of throbbing people. She liked to be in the center of it all, not off on the outskirts. Surprisingly it was at the center that Masika found the most room to dance.

People were quick to make way, especially as the woman began to move her body to the upbeat music. There wasn’t any stiffness, the movements were fluid yet precise. The dress that was draped over her form didn’t hide her arms or a good portion of her décolleté, and it was secured at the small of her waist. It allowed for each gesture to be seen as she moved her hands above her head with her shoulders and hips swaying in a sensual tandem that was contrary to the excitement and power her feet carried.

Masika spun, was bumped into hard enough that she had to take a step back, falling against Rahma for a second before righting herself up.

Rahma
 
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"Yeah? I used to be a dancer." The half-jackal retorted, eager to keep pace with his companion. She really was a ball of energy that was hard to match, but Rahma was motivated to do so all the same.

It never ceased to amaze Rahma just how big Ragash was, and how little of it he'd really seen. In fact, he'd probably passed the venue Masika now pulled him into multiple times and never realized that this was what it was. The low light and potent incense that wafted through served to impress a feeling of warm sensuality upon the room that very much reminded Rahma of the couple of years he'd danced back in Salitra. Sober, the scent might have bothered his keener senses, but thankfully he'd imbibed enough that it didn't seem to bother him.

Once again she strung him along like a puppet on a string. The music, the mood of the room, and the feeling of the soft pads of Masika's fingers and palms on his wrist all served to enrapture Rahma in being led around. Before he knew it they were both at the center of the room, and he instinctually began to dance along with her. It came naturally to Rahma; smooth but precise motions marked his own performance, accented by the hip gyrations that were so fancied in his former line of work.

Rahma was glad that the ebb and flow of the dance came so naturally back to him; it enabled him to better appreciate the sight of his dance partner and the way her dress accentuated both the power and grace of her movements. The world fell away as Rahma focused on Masika and the steps of her dance. He moved astride her as though he was in a trance...

Suddenly, a stranger in the crowd disrupted the rhythm they'd fallen into, and Masika stumbled into Rahma.She stood up quickly and began to pull away, but Rahma's body had already moved on reflex to belay her retreat. He steadied his footing and his right hand encircled Masika's waist, while his left caught her raised arm gently at the wrist, then slowly slid up to entwine his fingers in hers. All the while his eyes remind locked on the woman, lids hanging low, unable to take his gaze off of her.

Time seemed to stretch on into eternity after that, even though it had maybe been a couple of seconds. The pounding of his heart was the only other thing he was aware of, though he couldn't help but breathe a small laugh and let his lips curl upwards.
 
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Masika had righted herself upwards, bumping into others was a common accident and she thought very little of it. She had every intention of continuing dancing alongside Rahma, really she did. But he took hold of her waist, his fingers tender yet steady as they made she was close to him. Her brown gaze lifted up so they could make eye contact and she saw, and recognized, that look. She was all too familiar with it herself.

She matched his smile, and leaned back into him, tightly holding onto his large left hand and began to swing her hips back and forth, from side to side, against him. She was on the tips of her toes, her back planted against his chest for a moment. He was a good dancer, far better than plenty others. Even better than herself, and she was happy to meld against him.

She tilted her chin up, smiling more in cheerful mischief and then pivoted, facing him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, keeping him close to her as her nails dug slightly into his skin. Masika didn’t break their eye contact and raised a dark brow in question, asking if such a thing was still alright with him.

Rahma
 
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Rahma breathed deeply of the smoke in the air and, more importantly, of Masika. She hadn't pulled away, no, on the contrary she'd pressed herself against him and began to sway. Rahma swayed with her, savoring every moment of contact he had with her. Chills ran over him as he felt the woman's back press against his chest, and he ran his free hand along the outline of her form in time with the music.

When she turned about, Rahma's heart skipped a beat. Her hand came to rest on a place that was so potentially vulnerable, only so precious few inches from his neck or his heart or something equally vital but...but Rahma didn't so much as flinch. Why did he feel so at home here?

A low groan escaped him as she pressed her nails into him and he bit his lower lip. Hundreds, that was nice. He welcomed that look in her eye and the mischief on her mien. Gone was the innocent Masika he was used to, replaced by a playful one that he could only think of delving deeper into as the night progressed.

He didn't fight her one bit. His retort was only to grip the small of her back in his palm and press her tighter against himself, and to lean his head down so that his forehead touched hers as if to ask a question of his own.
 
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Her forehead pressed up against Rahma’s insistently as she closed her eyes. It was only for seconds but the moment lasted and lingered in such a way that Masika felt she had just been thrown into warm water. There was comfort, nothing shocking, despite the fact that sober Masika would have reconsidered if such a thing. She wasn’t certain if there was some unspoken rule about the hands philandering about with one another, surely as long as it didn’t disrupt work everything would be fine, but there was something more than just getting scolded at.

Rather it was because it was Rahma. He was quite certainly her foil. Where she smiled, he frowned, while she looked up to the sky and sun, he hung his head and looked to the ground. The only thing that they had in common was their illiteracy, supernatural strength, and surprisingly that they were both good dancers.

And this was just so much fun. Masika drifted deeper into this warmth, letting the music and the scent of Rahma mixed with smoke to carry her further into this bliss. She pressed her hips firmly against his, positioning herself so one of his legs would be in between hers. Side to side, her rhythm perfectly matched his, making sure their hips wouldn’t separate from each other. Angling her head to the side so her nose would caress his own, Masika opened her eyes, peering up into Rahma’s golden gaze.

You have such pretty eyes.” She said, “just like the sun.

Rahma
 
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Everything about this just felt so...right. The smooth warmth of Masika's skin nuzzled against his own, eliciting a soft sigh from the half-jackal.

Rahma never bothered to consider what kind of fallout either of them might have to face for the path the two of them were headed down together. He never had been much of one to care what others think, least of all those "above" him. When was the last time he'd let himself open up a bit like this? Really open up, at that. Consequences be damned, he wanted this.

Genuine feeling of connection aside, Rahma truly was enjoying himself. Not in the usual "hedonism as a distraction," avoidance kind of enjoyment, either. He was actually kind of...happy...right now.

That connection continued to make itself manifest in the way their bodies tangled together. Neither one of them seemed to lead the dance, moving at the room's center in an endless, intoxicating sway. Their legs entwined, their hips sliding across each other, their cadence in perfect sync. And Rahma just wanted more. How could he get closer?

Rahma locked eyes with Masika, gazing deep into the dark, bottomless pools that they were.
"I...I'm not good with words, but..." His hands slid up her sides as he spoke back to her, the music having dropped low enough that he could hear her without need of shouting. He wished he was a poet, that he could put his feelings to words in a way that wouldn't sound corny. "You shine so bright all the time...so damn beautiful and cheery."

His hands came to cradle her face, one sliding back to weave his fingers into her hair.
"My eyes have got nothing on you."

His lids fell closed as he closed the last of the gap between himself and Masika, and he prayed to every god of the Hundreds that she wouldn't pull away now. As tenderly as he'd ever been, Rahma planted his lips softly upon Masika's and sank into that warm water right with her.
 
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How funny it was that she was found during a freak rainstorm and Abasi, the serious man he was, chose Masika for her. Funnier yet, she was far from gloomy, wasn’t she? And yet, she couldn’t remember anyone ever saying she shined. Her looks, while not unattractive, just weren’t special. Brown skin, dark hair, darker eyes… no one could say she shined bright.

Cheery she was used to, and beautiful also wasn’t uncommon to hear, but… from Rahma? Yes, he wasn’t good with words but if Masika wanted a poet she would have flirted with Arash and gone to bed with him. Rahma was a earnest person, wasn’t he? In a different way than her, but she had yet to see him as a liar.

And so she smiled up into the kiss, standing up on the tips of her toes to not have him strain his neck too much. He was so tall, wasn’t he? Even if one didn’t count the jackal ears on top his head, he still had a few inches on her, didn’t he?. Heat bloomed within her, pulsating deep between her legs.

Her hands couldn’t help themselves, both going up to hold Rahma’s face. They were firm and insistent, not wanting him to pull away as Masika deepened the kiss. It was fine to do this, wasn’t it? He had kissed her first, and one kiss would be such a waste at this point. She wanted more of him, more of this cute Rahma that she had never seen. So aloof and look at him, shy and blushing and so soft.

Masika decided then that it was then she should give a taste on why she was picky. It had nothing to do with looks or gender or what species they were. No there was something far more specific that she looked for. Rahma just never seemed the type, but then again, Masika didn’t look the type either. Her friends were the only ones that believed Masika’s stories when she did delve a bit into her love life.

Her lips, once so soft and following along with Rahma’s flow, pressed harder against his. A hand moved to his jaw, gripping it and giving him a taste of her assertive strength while also demanding that he opened his mouth to allow her access. Her other hand went to the waistband of his slope, teasingly tugging them a bit lower on his hips.

And then she waited. If he pulled away it would be fine and she’d respect it. Not like she hadn’t played to the average man’s fantasies when she was really down bad. Although that was exactly why more often than not she brought women home instead of men— they tended to like having less control.

Rahma
 
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Instinct was a curious thing. It drove Rahma away from people. It drove him to survive. It drove his aggression. It was the reason most of his trysts ended with his partner in some degree of pain. Instinct was, however, generally a predictable thing. Fight. Flee. Survive. Dominate. Aggress. Simple and predictable.

Part of Rahma knew that Masika would want this, but he still felt the relief and the joy wash over him when she kissed him back. The enthusiasm with which she kissed him only served to pull him closer to her. There was none of the usual ravenous hunger that Rahma felt when he was spiraling towards a...passionate encounter with someone. Perhaps because that hunger was Masika's to wield tonight.

At first, Rahma was surprised when her touch turned to a firm grip, locking him in place. His eyes opened and an *mmph!* escaped him, muffled by the lock between their lips, then...then...

instinct took over. That funny, predictable thing. It took over, and it told Rahma to do the one thing he'd never expected, but in truth had always wanted.

Submit.

Rahma melted. His lids fluttered closed once more and his jaw relaxed, giving Masika the access she'd demanded. His blushing face burned hot, but that heat soon migrated downwards, spreading through his body as his hands came to rest meekly on the small of Masika's incredibly sculpted back.

Loose slops were frequently great in their comfortability, but right now they almost felt a liability. Masika's hunger was made readily visible through her sudden aggression, but the tenting between Rahma's own legs were a clear and obvious signal too. Even still, Rahma offered no resistance. Quite the opposite, in fact, he found himself squirming, longing for Masika to do more. To take more.
 
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His mouth opened for her, his shoulders softened as his eyes closed and soon enough she was greeted by a third sign of mounting tension. As quick as she was to give, Masika was just as quick to take away. Rahma had reacted far better than Masika could have ever hoped for. And she did want to take more, a hunger so deeply ingrained in her that desired to devour Rahma whole.

She pulled back, her arms reaching up to wrap around Rahma’s neck. Her eyes were on his lips, lingering for a moment more before she looked up into his eyes.

What a good boy,” she cooed up to him, smiling warmly. Their movements had turned to less of a sway and more of a sensual grinding, but Masika—despite wanting to— wouldn’t take Rahma in such a public place. There were places like that, but this little hole in the wall was far from it. And so she made certain to hide his arousal and to also give him time and space to adjust or calm down. “I had planned on showing you around but now all I want to do is to take you home.”

Rahma
 
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Right. They were still in public. Fuck. Masika's sudden withdrawal was enough to remind Rahma of that much, at least. It was enough that he'd be able to walk out without having people stare at his...waist wrap...

Yet, even Masika pulling away just made Rahma want more. She eyed him like a carnivore seeking its next meal, and that enticed the half-jackal like nothing else could.

“What a good boy,”
...Or so he thought. A chill ran up his spine, traveled along the nape of his neck, and across his scalp. So lost in the moment was he that the beast-kin's tail even began to wag meekly side to side. That was it. The final nail in the coffin. His head swimming, half from alcohol, half from being drunk on Masika, she had him wrapped around her finger.

"Anywhere..." He muttered, practically a whimper. "Take me anywhere...please..."
 
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They were in their own world, as if time had paused for them and them alone. Masika was aware of everyone around them, no one paying them any sort of attention. But privacy was needed. She raised a brow at Rahma’s words, and as if she hadn’t suggested leaving first, she took her time in considering his plea. A hand went to play with his long white hair, fingers deftly moving through his alabaster tresses.

She collared his throat with her free hand, her thumb caressing up and down on his dark skin. Her hand didn’t wrap around it completely, but the pads of her fingers made sure to hold him in place. Although now Masika was certain that Rahma wouldn’t run from her, not now.

We need some fresh air,” Masika said cooly, and with a wink she released him from her hold, her hands going down to her side. Without a second look she turned from the man who turned out to be just her type after all. She slowly made her way out from the center of the dance floor, something much harder to do than when they had went to the middle as they arrived.

Masika wasn’t sure how long her and Rahma had been there, perhaps half a hour at the most?

As she stepped out from the swaying throng, she headed straight for the door and gave a contented sigh as cool air swept over her. Masika hadn’t realized that parts of her had grown quite sweaty. When Rahma would come out, she would take his hand and intertwine her fingers through his before she would begin walking.

I live close by, Rahma,” she informed him, looking straight ahead. “That being said, this is your third warning.” Giving him a sidelong glance she asked the final question of the night. “Do I have permission to ravage you, body and soul?

Rahma
 
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Sweet dichotomy...with one hand, the gentle playfulness that Rahma had come to know Masika for as her fingers danced through the strands of his hair. With the other, she casually reminded him of the strength she bore as she pressed upon Rahma's neck, those hands that he'd seen crush bones like twigs. It wasn't a tight grip, but he wished it was.

He followed her obediently, pushing his way through the crowd. Some unfortunate bar-goer came within close proximity of Rahma while carrying a drink, something that smelled vaguely alcoholic. Rahma snatched the glass from the owner's hand with a snarl, one the owner didn't dare to challenge; he downed the drink in one draw, never dropping behind Masika's pace. One last shot of liquid courage.

Once again the night air hit Rahma like a raging bull, this time reminding Rahma as well of just how high his temperature had risen. He noted the glisten of sweat on Masika's skin and something immediately began to ache within him. Her skin, smooth and flawless, with art she'd had drawn onto her displayed proudly like a tapestry, looked tantalizing in its sheen.

The jackal happily accepted Masika's hand into his own, still eager to follow her wherever she might lead. Then, she asked the all important question. There wasn't a doubt in Rahma's mind.
"I'm yours...anything you want, Masi..." The words rolled off his tongue so naturally. The only woman he'd ever called "mistress" before this was Medja, but if Masika asked then she would be too. He would call her by any name, follow her anywhere, let her do whatever she wanted with him. "...Take it...I'm yours."
 
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The moment he gave her permission, Masika’s demeanor changed. Her face was stoic despite the warmth flooding through her. Her mind could only picture one thing: making Rahma melt like he was silt sliding through her fingers. An ooey-gooey mess for only her eyes to see.

But first she’d need to apply a few corrections. She squeezed his hand, wanting him to take this slight scolding seriously.

Did I give you permission to call me that, pup?” Okay, so she could tell by his ears and tail he wasn’t a dog, but jackals had pups, right? She’d figure the correct terminology later. “Miss Masika.” Masika told him and paused. “Miss is fine. Mistress too, but… I much prefer master.” Really, Mistress should be reserved for the lovely Empress (regent) as even Masika herself would submit to the magnificent Medja. One would need to, to not do so would be as if all of Amol-Kalit froze over and turned into a tundra.

Try them out, which one do you think suits me best?” She asked they came closer and closer to her home.

Rahma
 
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Rahma's canid ears folded down, he bowed his head, and his cheeks reddened at the mild rebuke. Well, the blushing was likely more out of enjoyment of being called "pup" by Masika than out of shame for making a mistake, but he did feel that shame all the same.

He took a moment to ponder over the titles she permitted him to use. He silently mouthed the words, giving each its trial to see what would feel right.

"I'm sorry Miss Masika." He apologized softly, eyes firmly staring at the ground ahead of him so as not to offend his new lady further. That one did have a nice ring though. Something about the full name he rarely used and the simple title preceding it gave it such authority. His tail wagged again, unbidden. He didn't really know how to act yet. Would she train him more? The blush deepened and the wagging quickened.

Despite the notable change in energy between the two of them, with the normally sweet Masika becoming harsh and the always rowdy Rahma acting like a polite and humble servant, Rahma's excitement was building internally. This was fairly new territory he was treading into, but it was also something he realized he'd always longed for. The fact that it was likely his closest friend in Ragash guiding him towards that was...mmm....
 
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Good boy,” Masika praised the Demi-jackal, reaching over with her other hand to ruffle up his white hair, right in between his large-animal like ears. She had to stand up on the tips of her toes to do such a thing but it was worth it, his hair was so soft. Like a girl’s.

My good boy.” She corrected herself with a knowing smile and a playful wink, leading him the rest of the way to her home. Her home wasn’t in the city’s center, on the outskirts so that she actually had much more space to herself. A stone wall that Masika had helped Abasi build around their yard, garden, well and home with a gate that was always unlocked. Standing upright was Abasi’s favorite tree whose shade he would sit under in the afternoon heat was always the first thing that caught Masika’s eye.

They went through the gate and then into her home.

Femi, her parrot, trilled at their arrival, flapping excitedly as Masika lit a candle and then began to start a fire at the hearth in the center. It was for light, but also…

How are you feeling, pup? Hungry at all? Is your stomach doing alright with the alcohol?” She genuinely asked, kneeling before the growing flames as she looked up at Rahma.

Rahma
 
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