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Random notelings
Tuesday, 31 January 2006 11:46 amWhee, thinkings. No LJ cut this time, as it's short. :)
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They were at one side of the hall, nestled on a pile of cushions, watching proceedings, thankfully being left alone for now. Eri was still uncomfortable, since her current role meant she was expected to do things she didn’t much care for doing, but had very quickly got used to the idea of not showing her discomfort. Right now, it mostly bothered her to see the condition Iios was in– didn’t matter that it had been his idea, or mostly his execution of the idea, she felt guilty for not dissuading him out of it. In her opinion, they could have just hidden, just sneaked about in the shadows and stowed away on a ship, got away without any of these drastic changes. And even though he assured her it didn’t matter, it was just a silly biological idea, customs that didn’t apply to him… he’d looked sad and uncomfortable when she’d handed him the amputated parts, for safekeeping, so he could replace them later. He’d been proud of his looks, after all – the sheer number of clothes he owned, the number of different “wigs”, the time he lavished on getting himself looking just right… And to willingly give up his status! It might just be an act but everyone around him treated him like a fallen Kiravai – shamed and broken, outcast from his home and society, unwanted. Of course there were rumours, too, rumours about why he might have been so brutally kicked down – sexual deviance, open public vulgarity, criminal activity. He attracted attention, certainly, but then he’d have attracted attention however he looked – seeing Kiravai outside their home Territory was almost unheard of – and thankfully it was all the right sort of attention. And in spite of his problems getting used to the idea of letting biologicals push him around, tell him what to do, and mock what they saw as his ill fortune and lack of ears, he too had begun to relax into his assumed role.
“Don’t you feel this…?” she asked, softly, gently fussing his bald scalp, his stubby ears; although she preferred him with hair, there was something peculiarly attractive about his smooth, naked skull.
As befitted a docile, obedient slave, he was perched in the cushions next to her (although closer to the floor, as his status suggested), his head resting in her lap. “No,” he confirmed, quietly, opening his eyes very briefly to glance up at her. “That is, I feel you doing it, but that’s all.”
“It doesn’t feel pleasant, or anything?” Like a great many Vuls, she was very easily reduced to incoherency by anyone paying attention of any sort to her ears, and it seemed almost inconceivable that he felt only the tactile nature of it.
“Well, I appreciate the attention,” he smiled, sadly, “but that’s it.”
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They were at one side of the hall, nestled on a pile of cushions, watching proceedings, thankfully being left alone for now. Eri was still uncomfortable, since her current role meant she was expected to do things she didn’t much care for doing, but had very quickly got used to the idea of not showing her discomfort. Right now, it mostly bothered her to see the condition Iios was in– didn’t matter that it had been his idea, or mostly his execution of the idea, she felt guilty for not dissuading him out of it. In her opinion, they could have just hidden, just sneaked about in the shadows and stowed away on a ship, got away without any of these drastic changes. And even though he assured her it didn’t matter, it was just a silly biological idea, customs that didn’t apply to him… he’d looked sad and uncomfortable when she’d handed him the amputated parts, for safekeeping, so he could replace them later. He’d been proud of his looks, after all – the sheer number of clothes he owned, the number of different “wigs”, the time he lavished on getting himself looking just right… And to willingly give up his status! It might just be an act but everyone around him treated him like a fallen Kiravai – shamed and broken, outcast from his home and society, unwanted. Of course there were rumours, too, rumours about why he might have been so brutally kicked down – sexual deviance, open public vulgarity, criminal activity. He attracted attention, certainly, but then he’d have attracted attention however he looked – seeing Kiravai outside their home Territory was almost unheard of – and thankfully it was all the right sort of attention. And in spite of his problems getting used to the idea of letting biologicals push him around, tell him what to do, and mock what they saw as his ill fortune and lack of ears, he too had begun to relax into his assumed role.
“Don’t you feel this…?” she asked, softly, gently fussing his bald scalp, his stubby ears; although she preferred him with hair, there was something peculiarly attractive about his smooth, naked skull.
As befitted a docile, obedient slave, he was perched in the cushions next to her (although closer to the floor, as his status suggested), his head resting in her lap. “No,” he confirmed, quietly, opening his eyes very briefly to glance up at her. “That is, I feel you doing it, but that’s all.”
“It doesn’t feel pleasant, or anything?” Like a great many Vuls, she was very easily reduced to incoherency by anyone paying attention of any sort to her ears, and it seemed almost inconceivable that he felt only the tactile nature of it.
“Well, I appreciate the attention,” he smiled, sadly, “but that’s it.”
