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Kesi wanted to grow. She needed to grow. Kesi had always tried to better herself so that she could assist in furthering her brother’s goals. At ten, she discovered poisons and delve into mastering them. She knew not then what she would use them for, but in nurturing her own knowledge and gaining an expertise her brother could one day call upon it should he ever need it. She pushed herself to learn different languages, even Greek despite how odd it felt as the words fell from her tongue, all because she knew it could be beneficial for the circus. At the same time, she fell into snake charming as directed to by her brother. She poured her heart and soul into that, never resting until she surpassed her teachers, obsessing over her snakes near as much she did her brother. At sixteen she learned daggers so as to have more versatility in killing and a means of defense when poisons were not available.
Kesi evolved to survive and thrive within the environment in which she lived. Kesi wanted to be the only person Nem needed to rely on. She had relied on her brother for so long, especially when she was a young child scared of their father’s wrath. She owed everything to him. Her love, her desires, her life were Nem’s to dictate as he so chose.
And Kesi would continue to develop upon her skills as to continue her use. For if she failed, if she plateaued, what would her brother think then? The love the siblings had was strong, hotter than Ra’s sun beating down upon all of Egypt, but should Kesi flounder and fall farther behind her perfect brother, could someone take her place in use? Should an interloper join the circus and draw his attention away from her, she would not know what she would do. Her first temptation would be to murder them, but that would mean removing what could be a valuable tool from her brother’s hand. This was an element of chaos that did not bode well with the young snake charmer. Instead of dwelling on a scenario that may never happen, she should instead work harder and stronger so that her brother’s gaze never wanders from Kesi for a second.
There was one thing that Kesi was not involved in, and it irritated her to no end. Aside from being sent out to do small performances to draw people into the circus, Kesi was not involved in the recruitment of new patrons and new performers. Her brother did that job perfectly, just as perfect as he did everything else, but Kesi wanted to help him. She wanted to prove to Amenemhat that she was ready and could assist the circus even more than she already has. She was more than a poison maker, more than a snake charmer, and more than a killer. She would be everything the circus needed, that Amenemhat needed, and fulfill all his desires and so much more.
Kesi had already tried herself learning herself how to bring more patrons to the circus. The young snake charmer stalked the various Sheifas and found that Nenet was the easiest to manipulate. She sent a snake after the young girl only to ‘save’ her. It was heartbreaking killing Apep (for maybe half a second), but it had to be done so that she could be the hero Nenet needed. If Kesi could do this, surely her brother could trust her to do more!
It was a bright, sunny day when Kesi went searching for Amenemhat. Well, of course it was sunny, Ra made sure of it near always in Egypt. The circus was still closed, the various members bustling preparing for the events that would later take place. Kesi wandered around the grounds until she saw him - her God. A wide smile appeared on her face as she merrily moved next to her brother.
“Nem!” She greeted him happily. “Nem, Nem, guess what! I’m learning things. I want to recruit for the circus. Please, please can I do that? I’ll be super good at it. I’ll work really hard too.” Her hand gripped her brother’s wrist and she looked at him with wide, pleading eyes. “I want to do more for you, brother. Can I do more please?”
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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Kesi wanted to grow. She needed to grow. Kesi had always tried to better herself so that she could assist in furthering her brother’s goals. At ten, she discovered poisons and delve into mastering them. She knew not then what she would use them for, but in nurturing her own knowledge and gaining an expertise her brother could one day call upon it should he ever need it. She pushed herself to learn different languages, even Greek despite how odd it felt as the words fell from her tongue, all because she knew it could be beneficial for the circus. At the same time, she fell into snake charming as directed to by her brother. She poured her heart and soul into that, never resting until she surpassed her teachers, obsessing over her snakes near as much she did her brother. At sixteen she learned daggers so as to have more versatility in killing and a means of defense when poisons were not available.
Kesi evolved to survive and thrive within the environment in which she lived. Kesi wanted to be the only person Nem needed to rely on. She had relied on her brother for so long, especially when she was a young child scared of their father’s wrath. She owed everything to him. Her love, her desires, her life were Nem’s to dictate as he so chose.
And Kesi would continue to develop upon her skills as to continue her use. For if she failed, if she plateaued, what would her brother think then? The love the siblings had was strong, hotter than Ra’s sun beating down upon all of Egypt, but should Kesi flounder and fall farther behind her perfect brother, could someone take her place in use? Should an interloper join the circus and draw his attention away from her, she would not know what she would do. Her first temptation would be to murder them, but that would mean removing what could be a valuable tool from her brother’s hand. This was an element of chaos that did not bode well with the young snake charmer. Instead of dwelling on a scenario that may never happen, she should instead work harder and stronger so that her brother’s gaze never wanders from Kesi for a second.
There was one thing that Kesi was not involved in, and it irritated her to no end. Aside from being sent out to do small performances to draw people into the circus, Kesi was not involved in the recruitment of new patrons and new performers. Her brother did that job perfectly, just as perfect as he did everything else, but Kesi wanted to help him. She wanted to prove to Amenemhat that she was ready and could assist the circus even more than she already has. She was more than a poison maker, more than a snake charmer, and more than a killer. She would be everything the circus needed, that Amenemhat needed, and fulfill all his desires and so much more.
Kesi had already tried herself learning herself how to bring more patrons to the circus. The young snake charmer stalked the various Sheifas and found that Nenet was the easiest to manipulate. She sent a snake after the young girl only to ‘save’ her. It was heartbreaking killing Apep (for maybe half a second), but it had to be done so that she could be the hero Nenet needed. If Kesi could do this, surely her brother could trust her to do more!
It was a bright, sunny day when Kesi went searching for Amenemhat. Well, of course it was sunny, Ra made sure of it near always in Egypt. The circus was still closed, the various members bustling preparing for the events that would later take place. Kesi wandered around the grounds until she saw him - her God. A wide smile appeared on her face as she merrily moved next to her brother.
“Nem!” She greeted him happily. “Nem, Nem, guess what! I’m learning things. I want to recruit for the circus. Please, please can I do that? I’ll be super good at it. I’ll work really hard too.” Her hand gripped her brother’s wrist and she looked at him with wide, pleading eyes. “I want to do more for you, brother. Can I do more please?”
Kesi wanted to grow. She needed to grow. Kesi had always tried to better herself so that she could assist in furthering her brother’s goals. At ten, she discovered poisons and delve into mastering them. She knew not then what she would use them for, but in nurturing her own knowledge and gaining an expertise her brother could one day call upon it should he ever need it. She pushed herself to learn different languages, even Greek despite how odd it felt as the words fell from her tongue, all because she knew it could be beneficial for the circus. At the same time, she fell into snake charming as directed to by her brother. She poured her heart and soul into that, never resting until she surpassed her teachers, obsessing over her snakes near as much she did her brother. At sixteen she learned daggers so as to have more versatility in killing and a means of defense when poisons were not available.
Kesi evolved to survive and thrive within the environment in which she lived. Kesi wanted to be the only person Nem needed to rely on. She had relied on her brother for so long, especially when she was a young child scared of their father’s wrath. She owed everything to him. Her love, her desires, her life were Nem’s to dictate as he so chose.
And Kesi would continue to develop upon her skills as to continue her use. For if she failed, if she plateaued, what would her brother think then? The love the siblings had was strong, hotter than Ra’s sun beating down upon all of Egypt, but should Kesi flounder and fall farther behind her perfect brother, could someone take her place in use? Should an interloper join the circus and draw his attention away from her, she would not know what she would do. Her first temptation would be to murder them, but that would mean removing what could be a valuable tool from her brother’s hand. This was an element of chaos that did not bode well with the young snake charmer. Instead of dwelling on a scenario that may never happen, she should instead work harder and stronger so that her brother’s gaze never wanders from Kesi for a second.
There was one thing that Kesi was not involved in, and it irritated her to no end. Aside from being sent out to do small performances to draw people into the circus, Kesi was not involved in the recruitment of new patrons and new performers. Her brother did that job perfectly, just as perfect as he did everything else, but Kesi wanted to help him. She wanted to prove to Amenemhat that she was ready and could assist the circus even more than she already has. She was more than a poison maker, more than a snake charmer, and more than a killer. She would be everything the circus needed, that Amenemhat needed, and fulfill all his desires and so much more.
Kesi had already tried herself learning herself how to bring more patrons to the circus. The young snake charmer stalked the various Sheifas and found that Nenet was the easiest to manipulate. She sent a snake after the young girl only to ‘save’ her. It was heartbreaking killing Apep (for maybe half a second), but it had to be done so that she could be the hero Nenet needed. If Kesi could do this, surely her brother could trust her to do more!
It was a bright, sunny day when Kesi went searching for Amenemhat. Well, of course it was sunny, Ra made sure of it near always in Egypt. The circus was still closed, the various members bustling preparing for the events that would later take place. Kesi wandered around the grounds until she saw him - her God. A wide smile appeared on her face as she merrily moved next to her brother.
“Nem!” She greeted him happily. “Nem, Nem, guess what! I’m learning things. I want to recruit for the circus. Please, please can I do that? I’ll be super good at it. I’ll work really hard too.” Her hand gripped her brother’s wrist and she looked at him with wide, pleading eyes. “I want to do more for you, brother. Can I do more please?”
The world was getting smaller and smaller.
While war loomed over Egypt, there were stark limitations on the circus' ability to branch out and expand. For nearly a year, the ambition of spreading beyond the lands of Egypt and indeed, Africa itself, welled within his thoughts. There were the Greek nations that Egypt declared war upon. There were certainly lands beyond the reaches to the East that could be explored and learned about. While many considered the Nile to be the birth of humanity, the denizens of the Tempest of Set itself informed the ringmaster of just how much untapped potential there was.
Of course, that was before their longtime associate, Iahotep H'Naddar became pharaoh. That was before he declared war and it made the venture of taking such a large operation onto the sea a foolish dream. Regardless of the war, the circus would turn a profit. But, the fact that there were barriers to more, that factors outside of his control acted as a leash that kept him within Egypt...
It was infuriating.
But, Amenemhat wouldn't allow for such limitations to act as visors that held the potential of the present at bay from him. There were still matters to be taken care of domestically, and surely, in times of war the woman and those that stayed behind needed the distraction more than ever. There was more to see here than the obvious, and he'd make the opportunities known to him as they came. There were the words of the pharaoh that still clung to his mind. Never far from his thoughts, certainly the ringmaster of the Tempest of Set reveled in the idea of furthering his favoured God's ambitions.
Certainly, Set was acting through the Egyptian pharaoh, and as the man who considered himself an emissary, he took it upon himself to act on the impulses that would bring the mission of Set to the lands of Egypt. He ruminated on the future as he looked over the numbers that rolled in for Awwal. The circus' profits were high and he was quite pleased in that. What drew his attention, however, was the familiar, chipper tone that caused him to let the book shut.
Amenemhat need not hide his ledger from Kesi, but keeping it open might invite her to ask questions that he wouldn't answer. Long, drawn out subject matter that required the correct mindset to read... While Kesi was a great asset to him, he did not give to her the sort of patience that it took to read and decipher numbers. A woman who grew bored when there was silence in the air, he couldn't imagine her success in such a tedious task.
Then, she posed her question and it had him arching a brow in surprise. Certainly, Kesi was well-learned. She'd found a way, even at a young age, to push herself to a knowledge of poison craft, something that'd come in handy much more than once in their life together. He offered a smile that stretched easily upon his features. It might even have been genuine, but the sincerity of the expression wasn't to be questioned. Her words solicited thought, and he sat back, supporting himself on the floor with his left arm. The other loosed itself from her grasp and rose up to his neck, letting a crack sound through the air.
"Calm down, Kesi. I've told you that barging in unannounced is unacceptable."
While true, he wasn't entirely displeased to see her. The fact that she wanted to recruit... He had people that brought the performers into the circus already. Recruitment wasn't an altogether common need, either. But, he'd hear her out, if only to circumvent the possibility of her wailing and pouting like the child she no longer was.
"What makes you think you'll be so good at it, Kesi? Are you given to charisma? Are you patient and able to address the concerns of other people? Will you stay your hand in the event of refusal?"
He asked not to humiliate the girl, but to make her think. Foresight would make her more useful to him, and her question after her statement of intention was more relevant to him than the desire she had. It could be fleeting, it could be an impulse of the moment. It could be some wayward thought that she didn't see to its logical end.
"I would never refuse an offer to do more, sister. But the what and how is incredibly important."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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The world was getting smaller and smaller.
While war loomed over Egypt, there were stark limitations on the circus' ability to branch out and expand. For nearly a year, the ambition of spreading beyond the lands of Egypt and indeed, Africa itself, welled within his thoughts. There were the Greek nations that Egypt declared war upon. There were certainly lands beyond the reaches to the East that could be explored and learned about. While many considered the Nile to be the birth of humanity, the denizens of the Tempest of Set itself informed the ringmaster of just how much untapped potential there was.
Of course, that was before their longtime associate, Iahotep H'Naddar became pharaoh. That was before he declared war and it made the venture of taking such a large operation onto the sea a foolish dream. Regardless of the war, the circus would turn a profit. But, the fact that there were barriers to more, that factors outside of his control acted as a leash that kept him within Egypt...
It was infuriating.
But, Amenemhat wouldn't allow for such limitations to act as visors that held the potential of the present at bay from him. There were still matters to be taken care of domestically, and surely, in times of war the woman and those that stayed behind needed the distraction more than ever. There was more to see here than the obvious, and he'd make the opportunities known to him as they came. There were the words of the pharaoh that still clung to his mind. Never far from his thoughts, certainly the ringmaster of the Tempest of Set reveled in the idea of furthering his favoured God's ambitions.
Certainly, Set was acting through the Egyptian pharaoh, and as the man who considered himself an emissary, he took it upon himself to act on the impulses that would bring the mission of Set to the lands of Egypt. He ruminated on the future as he looked over the numbers that rolled in for Awwal. The circus' profits were high and he was quite pleased in that. What drew his attention, however, was the familiar, chipper tone that caused him to let the book shut.
Amenemhat need not hide his ledger from Kesi, but keeping it open might invite her to ask questions that he wouldn't answer. Long, drawn out subject matter that required the correct mindset to read... While Kesi was a great asset to him, he did not give to her the sort of patience that it took to read and decipher numbers. A woman who grew bored when there was silence in the air, he couldn't imagine her success in such a tedious task.
Then, she posed her question and it had him arching a brow in surprise. Certainly, Kesi was well-learned. She'd found a way, even at a young age, to push herself to a knowledge of poison craft, something that'd come in handy much more than once in their life together. He offered a smile that stretched easily upon his features. It might even have been genuine, but the sincerity of the expression wasn't to be questioned. Her words solicited thought, and he sat back, supporting himself on the floor with his left arm. The other loosed itself from her grasp and rose up to his neck, letting a crack sound through the air.
"Calm down, Kesi. I've told you that barging in unannounced is unacceptable."
While true, he wasn't entirely displeased to see her. The fact that she wanted to recruit... He had people that brought the performers into the circus already. Recruitment wasn't an altogether common need, either. But, he'd hear her out, if only to circumvent the possibility of her wailing and pouting like the child she no longer was.
"What makes you think you'll be so good at it, Kesi? Are you given to charisma? Are you patient and able to address the concerns of other people? Will you stay your hand in the event of refusal?"
He asked not to humiliate the girl, but to make her think. Foresight would make her more useful to him, and her question after her statement of intention was more relevant to him than the desire she had. It could be fleeting, it could be an impulse of the moment. It could be some wayward thought that she didn't see to its logical end.
"I would never refuse an offer to do more, sister. But the what and how is incredibly important."
The world was getting smaller and smaller.
While war loomed over Egypt, there were stark limitations on the circus' ability to branch out and expand. For nearly a year, the ambition of spreading beyond the lands of Egypt and indeed, Africa itself, welled within his thoughts. There were the Greek nations that Egypt declared war upon. There were certainly lands beyond the reaches to the East that could be explored and learned about. While many considered the Nile to be the birth of humanity, the denizens of the Tempest of Set itself informed the ringmaster of just how much untapped potential there was.
Of course, that was before their longtime associate, Iahotep H'Naddar became pharaoh. That was before he declared war and it made the venture of taking such a large operation onto the sea a foolish dream. Regardless of the war, the circus would turn a profit. But, the fact that there were barriers to more, that factors outside of his control acted as a leash that kept him within Egypt...
It was infuriating.
But, Amenemhat wouldn't allow for such limitations to act as visors that held the potential of the present at bay from him. There were still matters to be taken care of domestically, and surely, in times of war the woman and those that stayed behind needed the distraction more than ever. There was more to see here than the obvious, and he'd make the opportunities known to him as they came. There were the words of the pharaoh that still clung to his mind. Never far from his thoughts, certainly the ringmaster of the Tempest of Set reveled in the idea of furthering his favoured God's ambitions.
Certainly, Set was acting through the Egyptian pharaoh, and as the man who considered himself an emissary, he took it upon himself to act on the impulses that would bring the mission of Set to the lands of Egypt. He ruminated on the future as he looked over the numbers that rolled in for Awwal. The circus' profits were high and he was quite pleased in that. What drew his attention, however, was the familiar, chipper tone that caused him to let the book shut.
Amenemhat need not hide his ledger from Kesi, but keeping it open might invite her to ask questions that he wouldn't answer. Long, drawn out subject matter that required the correct mindset to read... While Kesi was a great asset to him, he did not give to her the sort of patience that it took to read and decipher numbers. A woman who grew bored when there was silence in the air, he couldn't imagine her success in such a tedious task.
Then, she posed her question and it had him arching a brow in surprise. Certainly, Kesi was well-learned. She'd found a way, even at a young age, to push herself to a knowledge of poison craft, something that'd come in handy much more than once in their life together. He offered a smile that stretched easily upon his features. It might even have been genuine, but the sincerity of the expression wasn't to be questioned. Her words solicited thought, and he sat back, supporting himself on the floor with his left arm. The other loosed itself from her grasp and rose up to his neck, letting a crack sound through the air.
"Calm down, Kesi. I've told you that barging in unannounced is unacceptable."
While true, he wasn't entirely displeased to see her. The fact that she wanted to recruit... He had people that brought the performers into the circus already. Recruitment wasn't an altogether common need, either. But, he'd hear her out, if only to circumvent the possibility of her wailing and pouting like the child she no longer was.
"What makes you think you'll be so good at it, Kesi? Are you given to charisma? Are you patient and able to address the concerns of other people? Will you stay your hand in the event of refusal?"
He asked not to humiliate the girl, but to make her think. Foresight would make her more useful to him, and her question after her statement of intention was more relevant to him than the desire she had. It could be fleeting, it could be an impulse of the moment. It could be some wayward thought that she didn't see to its logical end.
"I would never refuse an offer to do more, sister. But the what and how is incredibly important."
Kesi’s eyes widen. She had forgotten that she wasn’t to barge in unannounced. In her excitement to find her brother, she misbehaved. All thoughts of why she was here disappeared. What was she to do? How would she earn his forgiveness? Kesi hated making mistakes (despite doing so more often than her brother knew) and strived to be perfect just like him. Would he not allow her to help because of this? Did he think less of her? She could never be as wonderful and immaculate as Nem, but Kesi would work as hard as she can so that she could be close and worthy.
But as soon as she saw the smile on his face her worries went away. Oh, he wasn’t angry. She should remember, though, in case the next time he would be upset. Kesi was a good girl, yes she was! So she giggled and sat by his side, placing her hands on her lap. He pulled away from her grip, so clearly he didn’t want to be touched. "I’m sorry, brother,” She said chipperly. “I won’t do it again. Promise!”
She gave pause at his second statement. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Why did she think she’ll be good at it? Why would she be bad at it? It couldn’t be that hard talking to people. And why would people refuse? The circus was great! And Amenemhat was even more magnificent! How could anyone possibly say no?
But suppose someone did say no? What would she do? Kesi opened her mouth to ask her brother what he did in such cases and closed it again. No, no one would ever dare to tell him no. Kesi bit her lip and thought. Could she hold her anger at a refusal? Just the thought of being told no made her upset. It saddened her, it angered her, and it annoyed her. Saying no was a very dangerous thing.
But Kesi knew she couldn’t be violent, even if every desire was within her to be that way. And the reason why was simple. “I’ll be able to stay my hand because you’d want me to, Nem.” Kesi would have to think about what he would do in the situation. If she thought like her brother did, then the solution would come easily. “I’m not uncharismatic, Nem. And I can address concerns. I would rather do that than you. You shouldn’t have to address anyone’s concerns.” She nodded enthusiastically. Yes, yes this all made sense! This would convince him too.
And the truth was that Kesi wasn’t uncharismatic, as she stated. She was a showwoman. She knew how to draw in a crowd. She knew how to play a song that people would listen to, transfixed, and weave a story wilder than the imagination. She knew how to give a smile, wear a mask, hide her feelings when the situation called for it. Kesi could manipulate, convince, the problem being… she would rather use tricks than her words to get what she wanted. It was like that with Nenet, sending a snake and playing the hero, giving the scared, stuttering girl sweet compliments laced with a hidden poison. Simply talking was difficult, but should it be required she… could do it. Amenemhat would expect, after all.
“Anything you require, Nem.” Kesi said, looking at him again with her large, dark gaze. “Anything you require at all, Nem. You know I always wish to do more, to be better to… make you happy.” She had asked that of him when they were discussing the ending their father’s life. “And I know I will do well because I’ve watched you, Nem. And I know what you expect of me.”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Kesi’s eyes widen. She had forgotten that she wasn’t to barge in unannounced. In her excitement to find her brother, she misbehaved. All thoughts of why she was here disappeared. What was she to do? How would she earn his forgiveness? Kesi hated making mistakes (despite doing so more often than her brother knew) and strived to be perfect just like him. Would he not allow her to help because of this? Did he think less of her? She could never be as wonderful and immaculate as Nem, but Kesi would work as hard as she can so that she could be close and worthy.
But as soon as she saw the smile on his face her worries went away. Oh, he wasn’t angry. She should remember, though, in case the next time he would be upset. Kesi was a good girl, yes she was! So she giggled and sat by his side, placing her hands on her lap. He pulled away from her grip, so clearly he didn’t want to be touched. "I’m sorry, brother,” She said chipperly. “I won’t do it again. Promise!”
She gave pause at his second statement. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Why did she think she’ll be good at it? Why would she be bad at it? It couldn’t be that hard talking to people. And why would people refuse? The circus was great! And Amenemhat was even more magnificent! How could anyone possibly say no?
But suppose someone did say no? What would she do? Kesi opened her mouth to ask her brother what he did in such cases and closed it again. No, no one would ever dare to tell him no. Kesi bit her lip and thought. Could she hold her anger at a refusal? Just the thought of being told no made her upset. It saddened her, it angered her, and it annoyed her. Saying no was a very dangerous thing.
But Kesi knew she couldn’t be violent, even if every desire was within her to be that way. And the reason why was simple. “I’ll be able to stay my hand because you’d want me to, Nem.” Kesi would have to think about what he would do in the situation. If she thought like her brother did, then the solution would come easily. “I’m not uncharismatic, Nem. And I can address concerns. I would rather do that than you. You shouldn’t have to address anyone’s concerns.” She nodded enthusiastically. Yes, yes this all made sense! This would convince him too.
And the truth was that Kesi wasn’t uncharismatic, as she stated. She was a showwoman. She knew how to draw in a crowd. She knew how to play a song that people would listen to, transfixed, and weave a story wilder than the imagination. She knew how to give a smile, wear a mask, hide her feelings when the situation called for it. Kesi could manipulate, convince, the problem being… she would rather use tricks than her words to get what she wanted. It was like that with Nenet, sending a snake and playing the hero, giving the scared, stuttering girl sweet compliments laced with a hidden poison. Simply talking was difficult, but should it be required she… could do it. Amenemhat would expect, after all.
“Anything you require, Nem.” Kesi said, looking at him again with her large, dark gaze. “Anything you require at all, Nem. You know I always wish to do more, to be better to… make you happy.” She had asked that of him when they were discussing the ending their father’s life. “And I know I will do well because I’ve watched you, Nem. And I know what you expect of me.”
Kesi’s eyes widen. She had forgotten that she wasn’t to barge in unannounced. In her excitement to find her brother, she misbehaved. All thoughts of why she was here disappeared. What was she to do? How would she earn his forgiveness? Kesi hated making mistakes (despite doing so more often than her brother knew) and strived to be perfect just like him. Would he not allow her to help because of this? Did he think less of her? She could never be as wonderful and immaculate as Nem, but Kesi would work as hard as she can so that she could be close and worthy.
But as soon as she saw the smile on his face her worries went away. Oh, he wasn’t angry. She should remember, though, in case the next time he would be upset. Kesi was a good girl, yes she was! So she giggled and sat by his side, placing her hands on her lap. He pulled away from her grip, so clearly he didn’t want to be touched. "I’m sorry, brother,” She said chipperly. “I won’t do it again. Promise!”
She gave pause at his second statement. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Why did she think she’ll be good at it? Why would she be bad at it? It couldn’t be that hard talking to people. And why would people refuse? The circus was great! And Amenemhat was even more magnificent! How could anyone possibly say no?
But suppose someone did say no? What would she do? Kesi opened her mouth to ask her brother what he did in such cases and closed it again. No, no one would ever dare to tell him no. Kesi bit her lip and thought. Could she hold her anger at a refusal? Just the thought of being told no made her upset. It saddened her, it angered her, and it annoyed her. Saying no was a very dangerous thing.
But Kesi knew she couldn’t be violent, even if every desire was within her to be that way. And the reason why was simple. “I’ll be able to stay my hand because you’d want me to, Nem.” Kesi would have to think about what he would do in the situation. If she thought like her brother did, then the solution would come easily. “I’m not uncharismatic, Nem. And I can address concerns. I would rather do that than you. You shouldn’t have to address anyone’s concerns.” She nodded enthusiastically. Yes, yes this all made sense! This would convince him too.
And the truth was that Kesi wasn’t uncharismatic, as she stated. She was a showwoman. She knew how to draw in a crowd. She knew how to play a song that people would listen to, transfixed, and weave a story wilder than the imagination. She knew how to give a smile, wear a mask, hide her feelings when the situation called for it. Kesi could manipulate, convince, the problem being… she would rather use tricks than her words to get what she wanted. It was like that with Nenet, sending a snake and playing the hero, giving the scared, stuttering girl sweet compliments laced with a hidden poison. Simply talking was difficult, but should it be required she… could do it. Amenemhat would expect, after all.
“Anything you require, Nem.” Kesi said, looking at him again with her large, dark gaze. “Anything you require at all, Nem. You know I always wish to do more, to be better to… make you happy.” She had asked that of him when they were discussing the ending their father’s life. “And I know I will do well because I’ve watched you, Nem. And I know what you expect of me.”
The sight of her eyes widening brought Amenemhat a small surge of pleasure. While the denizens of the Tempest of Set need not live in perpetual fear of their ringmaster, the fact that those closest to him felt apprehension at his disappointment brought with it a sense of power that he craved. The circus was his empire, his haven and his life. He expected nothing less than obedience, though he suspected that the expectation might never be fully satisfied. Particularly by the young woman in front of him. Amenemhat was always too lenient with her, giving her allowances that, perhaps, she didn't deserve. But, Kesi was no product of nepotism. While favoured by the ringmaster and brought into his tent regularly, she was not given power she did not deserve.
The apology that escaped her lips seemed somewhat disingenuous, but the propriety of it was well enough. Rather then pressing her on the point, he was far more interested in listening to her answer. The ringmaster tipped his gaze upward, meeting the small young woman as a hand rose up to trail along the back of his neck. Her answer was... inadequate. There was no supervision with the task of recruitment. The process of hiring a prospective performer required a great deal of agency allowed for the recruiter as well as trust that Kesi, while having earned in some regards, did not have in this one.
Amenemhat had seen her slay too many of her serpents, lash out at too many servants. The girl was childish and while that sort of childishness brought with it the sort of idolization of the man himself that he enjoyed, it was dangerous. Kesi of the Tempest of Set was dangerous.
And he would never ask her to change that. The temperament she held was not held in low-esteem by the ringmaster in the slightest. Just as the circus required level-headed and socially intelligent people such as himself to bring people to him, there was also the need for the deeply specialized. Kesi was the mistress of poisons, rivaled perhaps only by Rekhmire in the understanding of how toxins could tear the body in twain, cause unimaginable pain or even cause paralysis of the body for long enough to detain large creatures. Kesi's talents were valued.
Why does she want more? he wondered. What brought it on that Kesi wanted to go out and defy her role in the circus for another's? Had he not given her due praise? Was she jealous of the admiration he might've held for another? Nem crossed his arms as he listened to her. She listed qualities that he could attribute to her. While performing, Kesi was brilliant, an example of the sort of relationship a performer should have with her audience. But, her calm never lasted. He didn't trust her temperament, not her capacity. He shook his head.
"That's not good enough. 'Because I'd want you to' is an easy platitude and open to interpretation. Would a refusal change your mind? Would someone saying 'no' to you make them useless to me, and your idea of what I want changes in the moment?"
He had to ask her these questions, to see where the limits of her patience was, where her capacity existed and whether she was truly capable of doing what she wanted to do. Nem wouldn't say no without cause, but conversely, he also had no intention of saying yes without good reason. Her final answe was better along the line of what his expectations for her were. He let a soft sigh escape his lips, and he beckoned for the girl to draw near him. The tent was closed, and he could give her an undue allowance. Mostly, because aggravating Kesi was a nuisance. Partly, because he craved her proximity.
If she obeyed, he brought an arm about her shoulders, fingers drifting along the nape of her neck before threading into the dark tresses of her hair.
"I won't give your permission to recruit unless you can prove that you're able to. You're a clever girl, Kesi. You've learned well and can speak as I do. But, I need the reassurance that your inclinations will not rule over your judgment. You'll need to undergo a practical assessment."
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The sight of her eyes widening brought Amenemhat a small surge of pleasure. While the denizens of the Tempest of Set need not live in perpetual fear of their ringmaster, the fact that those closest to him felt apprehension at his disappointment brought with it a sense of power that he craved. The circus was his empire, his haven and his life. He expected nothing less than obedience, though he suspected that the expectation might never be fully satisfied. Particularly by the young woman in front of him. Amenemhat was always too lenient with her, giving her allowances that, perhaps, she didn't deserve. But, Kesi was no product of nepotism. While favoured by the ringmaster and brought into his tent regularly, she was not given power she did not deserve.
The apology that escaped her lips seemed somewhat disingenuous, but the propriety of it was well enough. Rather then pressing her on the point, he was far more interested in listening to her answer. The ringmaster tipped his gaze upward, meeting the small young woman as a hand rose up to trail along the back of his neck. Her answer was... inadequate. There was no supervision with the task of recruitment. The process of hiring a prospective performer required a great deal of agency allowed for the recruiter as well as trust that Kesi, while having earned in some regards, did not have in this one.
Amenemhat had seen her slay too many of her serpents, lash out at too many servants. The girl was childish and while that sort of childishness brought with it the sort of idolization of the man himself that he enjoyed, it was dangerous. Kesi of the Tempest of Set was dangerous.
And he would never ask her to change that. The temperament she held was not held in low-esteem by the ringmaster in the slightest. Just as the circus required level-headed and socially intelligent people such as himself to bring people to him, there was also the need for the deeply specialized. Kesi was the mistress of poisons, rivaled perhaps only by Rekhmire in the understanding of how toxins could tear the body in twain, cause unimaginable pain or even cause paralysis of the body for long enough to detain large creatures. Kesi's talents were valued.
Why does she want more? he wondered. What brought it on that Kesi wanted to go out and defy her role in the circus for another's? Had he not given her due praise? Was she jealous of the admiration he might've held for another? Nem crossed his arms as he listened to her. She listed qualities that he could attribute to her. While performing, Kesi was brilliant, an example of the sort of relationship a performer should have with her audience. But, her calm never lasted. He didn't trust her temperament, not her capacity. He shook his head.
"That's not good enough. 'Because I'd want you to' is an easy platitude and open to interpretation. Would a refusal change your mind? Would someone saying 'no' to you make them useless to me, and your idea of what I want changes in the moment?"
He had to ask her these questions, to see where the limits of her patience was, where her capacity existed and whether she was truly capable of doing what she wanted to do. Nem wouldn't say no without cause, but conversely, he also had no intention of saying yes without good reason. Her final answe was better along the line of what his expectations for her were. He let a soft sigh escape his lips, and he beckoned for the girl to draw near him. The tent was closed, and he could give her an undue allowance. Mostly, because aggravating Kesi was a nuisance. Partly, because he craved her proximity.
If she obeyed, he brought an arm about her shoulders, fingers drifting along the nape of her neck before threading into the dark tresses of her hair.
"I won't give your permission to recruit unless you can prove that you're able to. You're a clever girl, Kesi. You've learned well and can speak as I do. But, I need the reassurance that your inclinations will not rule over your judgment. You'll need to undergo a practical assessment."
The sight of her eyes widening brought Amenemhat a small surge of pleasure. While the denizens of the Tempest of Set need not live in perpetual fear of their ringmaster, the fact that those closest to him felt apprehension at his disappointment brought with it a sense of power that he craved. The circus was his empire, his haven and his life. He expected nothing less than obedience, though he suspected that the expectation might never be fully satisfied. Particularly by the young woman in front of him. Amenemhat was always too lenient with her, giving her allowances that, perhaps, she didn't deserve. But, Kesi was no product of nepotism. While favoured by the ringmaster and brought into his tent regularly, she was not given power she did not deserve.
The apology that escaped her lips seemed somewhat disingenuous, but the propriety of it was well enough. Rather then pressing her on the point, he was far more interested in listening to her answer. The ringmaster tipped his gaze upward, meeting the small young woman as a hand rose up to trail along the back of his neck. Her answer was... inadequate. There was no supervision with the task of recruitment. The process of hiring a prospective performer required a great deal of agency allowed for the recruiter as well as trust that Kesi, while having earned in some regards, did not have in this one.
Amenemhat had seen her slay too many of her serpents, lash out at too many servants. The girl was childish and while that sort of childishness brought with it the sort of idolization of the man himself that he enjoyed, it was dangerous. Kesi of the Tempest of Set was dangerous.
And he would never ask her to change that. The temperament she held was not held in low-esteem by the ringmaster in the slightest. Just as the circus required level-headed and socially intelligent people such as himself to bring people to him, there was also the need for the deeply specialized. Kesi was the mistress of poisons, rivaled perhaps only by Rekhmire in the understanding of how toxins could tear the body in twain, cause unimaginable pain or even cause paralysis of the body for long enough to detain large creatures. Kesi's talents were valued.
Why does she want more? he wondered. What brought it on that Kesi wanted to go out and defy her role in the circus for another's? Had he not given her due praise? Was she jealous of the admiration he might've held for another? Nem crossed his arms as he listened to her. She listed qualities that he could attribute to her. While performing, Kesi was brilliant, an example of the sort of relationship a performer should have with her audience. But, her calm never lasted. He didn't trust her temperament, not her capacity. He shook his head.
"That's not good enough. 'Because I'd want you to' is an easy platitude and open to interpretation. Would a refusal change your mind? Would someone saying 'no' to you make them useless to me, and your idea of what I want changes in the moment?"
He had to ask her these questions, to see where the limits of her patience was, where her capacity existed and whether she was truly capable of doing what she wanted to do. Nem wouldn't say no without cause, but conversely, he also had no intention of saying yes without good reason. Her final answe was better along the line of what his expectations for her were. He let a soft sigh escape his lips, and he beckoned for the girl to draw near him. The tent was closed, and he could give her an undue allowance. Mostly, because aggravating Kesi was a nuisance. Partly, because he craved her proximity.
If she obeyed, he brought an arm about her shoulders, fingers drifting along the nape of her neck before threading into the dark tresses of her hair.
"I won't give your permission to recruit unless you can prove that you're able to. You're a clever girl, Kesi. You've learned well and can speak as I do. But, I need the reassurance that your inclinations will not rule over your judgment. You'll need to undergo a practical assessment."
In many ways, Kesi was like the snakes she kept. She slithered, hidden from view, waiting to strike when a weakness was found. She dripped venom, causing death to her victims before they could even react. And she shed her skin, adopting a new one when the old no longer was of use.
Her emotions were in constant turmoil. She could be excited, angry, sad, happy at a drop of a hat. She often adopted a childlike persona, one that looked at the world with innocence and wonderment, finding joy in the most obscure things. But that was not the only side to Kesi of the Tempest of Set. A being made of pure chaos, there was another half that occasionally came out of the girl, specifically when it came to her brother.
A more adult Kesi, one filled with lust, pushed aside the other personality. Her eyes that were once wide now clouded in desire. And when her brother moved her close, fingers moving through her hair, she too idly touched the man. Her fingers ran circles on his chest, before slowly walking them up to brush against the side of his face. “I cannot answer what would be done if someone says no to me, Nem. That implies that no has the same significance in every conversation. If I ask a random street performer to visit the circus, are they of the same import as say… a Lord that may grant the circus land in which to expand? Should I treat a no the same if it comes from someone who intends to do harm to this circus? Your question is far too vague, brother. I could kill, I could maim, I could ignore, or I could press further. The word is inconsequential, the intent is what matters.”
She bit her lip, teeth catching on its corner. She continued to run her fingers now through his hair, head tilting to the side and watching it as she did. “If you want to test me, that’s fine. That isn’t unfair. And I will pass, Nem. Failure isn’t accepted in the Tempest of Set and I am no exception to this.”
This persona Kesi had was one that only knew lust and desire. It was greedy, in needed, and wanted more always. It was not a personality that simply had carnal desires (though, Kesi would never not want that). It was one riddled with want, whether it be for Nem or for her own gain. It was not an unintelligent personality by any means. It was more patient than the child-like Kesi. And far, far more deadly. For this being did not ever take no. Her child-like self might pout, tantrum, or annoy into getting what she wanted. But this mask knew the capabilities of her adult mind. It knew how to use the body to get what she wanted, or twist words and turn venom into honey as it dripped from her tongue.
The problem was that this personality was so rare, often hiding in the shadows until a desire became so strong within Kesi that it forced the other out. Kesi really wanted to grow, to impress her brother. And so she will make it happen.
“But it seems to me, Nem,” Her sharp nail traveled from the back of his head down to his neck. “That you are looking for a reason to say no before I was even given the chance. Have I ever truly failed you, brother?” She leaned forward, placing a kiss upon his lips. Her voice dropped to a whisper, “No is just an inevitable yes.”
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In many ways, Kesi was like the snakes she kept. She slithered, hidden from view, waiting to strike when a weakness was found. She dripped venom, causing death to her victims before they could even react. And she shed her skin, adopting a new one when the old no longer was of use.
Her emotions were in constant turmoil. She could be excited, angry, sad, happy at a drop of a hat. She often adopted a childlike persona, one that looked at the world with innocence and wonderment, finding joy in the most obscure things. But that was not the only side to Kesi of the Tempest of Set. A being made of pure chaos, there was another half that occasionally came out of the girl, specifically when it came to her brother.
A more adult Kesi, one filled with lust, pushed aside the other personality. Her eyes that were once wide now clouded in desire. And when her brother moved her close, fingers moving through her hair, she too idly touched the man. Her fingers ran circles on his chest, before slowly walking them up to brush against the side of his face. “I cannot answer what would be done if someone says no to me, Nem. That implies that no has the same significance in every conversation. If I ask a random street performer to visit the circus, are they of the same import as say… a Lord that may grant the circus land in which to expand? Should I treat a no the same if it comes from someone who intends to do harm to this circus? Your question is far too vague, brother. I could kill, I could maim, I could ignore, or I could press further. The word is inconsequential, the intent is what matters.”
She bit her lip, teeth catching on its corner. She continued to run her fingers now through his hair, head tilting to the side and watching it as she did. “If you want to test me, that’s fine. That isn’t unfair. And I will pass, Nem. Failure isn’t accepted in the Tempest of Set and I am no exception to this.”
This persona Kesi had was one that only knew lust and desire. It was greedy, in needed, and wanted more always. It was not a personality that simply had carnal desires (though, Kesi would never not want that). It was one riddled with want, whether it be for Nem or for her own gain. It was not an unintelligent personality by any means. It was more patient than the child-like Kesi. And far, far more deadly. For this being did not ever take no. Her child-like self might pout, tantrum, or annoy into getting what she wanted. But this mask knew the capabilities of her adult mind. It knew how to use the body to get what she wanted, or twist words and turn venom into honey as it dripped from her tongue.
The problem was that this personality was so rare, often hiding in the shadows until a desire became so strong within Kesi that it forced the other out. Kesi really wanted to grow, to impress her brother. And so she will make it happen.
“But it seems to me, Nem,” Her sharp nail traveled from the back of his head down to his neck. “That you are looking for a reason to say no before I was even given the chance. Have I ever truly failed you, brother?” She leaned forward, placing a kiss upon his lips. Her voice dropped to a whisper, “No is just an inevitable yes.”
In many ways, Kesi was like the snakes she kept. She slithered, hidden from view, waiting to strike when a weakness was found. She dripped venom, causing death to her victims before they could even react. And she shed her skin, adopting a new one when the old no longer was of use.
Her emotions were in constant turmoil. She could be excited, angry, sad, happy at a drop of a hat. She often adopted a childlike persona, one that looked at the world with innocence and wonderment, finding joy in the most obscure things. But that was not the only side to Kesi of the Tempest of Set. A being made of pure chaos, there was another half that occasionally came out of the girl, specifically when it came to her brother.
A more adult Kesi, one filled with lust, pushed aside the other personality. Her eyes that were once wide now clouded in desire. And when her brother moved her close, fingers moving through her hair, she too idly touched the man. Her fingers ran circles on his chest, before slowly walking them up to brush against the side of his face. “I cannot answer what would be done if someone says no to me, Nem. That implies that no has the same significance in every conversation. If I ask a random street performer to visit the circus, are they of the same import as say… a Lord that may grant the circus land in which to expand? Should I treat a no the same if it comes from someone who intends to do harm to this circus? Your question is far too vague, brother. I could kill, I could maim, I could ignore, or I could press further. The word is inconsequential, the intent is what matters.”
She bit her lip, teeth catching on its corner. She continued to run her fingers now through his hair, head tilting to the side and watching it as she did. “If you want to test me, that’s fine. That isn’t unfair. And I will pass, Nem. Failure isn’t accepted in the Tempest of Set and I am no exception to this.”
This persona Kesi had was one that only knew lust and desire. It was greedy, in needed, and wanted more always. It was not a personality that simply had carnal desires (though, Kesi would never not want that). It was one riddled with want, whether it be for Nem or for her own gain. It was not an unintelligent personality by any means. It was more patient than the child-like Kesi. And far, far more deadly. For this being did not ever take no. Her child-like self might pout, tantrum, or annoy into getting what she wanted. But this mask knew the capabilities of her adult mind. It knew how to use the body to get what she wanted, or twist words and turn venom into honey as it dripped from her tongue.
The problem was that this personality was so rare, often hiding in the shadows until a desire became so strong within Kesi that it forced the other out. Kesi really wanted to grow, to impress her brother. And so she will make it happen.
“But it seems to me, Nem,” Her sharp nail traveled from the back of his head down to his neck. “That you are looking for a reason to say no before I was even given the chance. Have I ever truly failed you, brother?” She leaned forward, placing a kiss upon his lips. Her voice dropped to a whisper, “No is just an inevitable yes.”
This was the Kesi that Amenemhat yearned for.
He could see the change in her, the shift in her expression from the gaze that lost that wide-eyed childish innocence to the slow movements of her fingers that brushed against his chest before reaching for his face. Then, she spoke and the gait of her words slowed to a sultry crawl. The shift brought an instinctive change in his own touch. The fingers that sifted into her hair and played along the nape of her neck tightened, intent upon pulling her head back as if to bare her throat to him.
However, he did not indulge deeper than this. He listened to her speak, found a wry amusement in the words. He did not anger at the admission of that truth, because it was, while inadequate, not in defiance of his expectation. Kesi was, by her very nature, volatile. She was the serpent, seeking to constrict the enemies of his circus and protect what was rightfully hers. Amenemhat did not disagree with her in the slightest. It was true that a street performer's declinination and that of a nobleman were orders of magnitude apart. One was irrelevant, and would earn a shrug of the shoulders and a 'so long'. Amenemhat was not lacking in performers and new talent was easy to find. Or, better yet, cultivate from within the circus.
Hiring additional hands was a necessary, but ultimately, arbitrary task. Then, those that did harm to the circus. Their refusal was unacceptable. However, causing harm to such people in the moment was... complicated. He did not intend for Kesi to simply accept what was, for that defied the very nature of their worship of the God of Chaos, Set. Chaos did not forgive. Chaos did not relent. No was by no means the end, but just as chaos was unrelenting, it needed to be controlled. The Tempest of Set created chaos, but being, ultimately, sullied by its consequences was a fate he did not wish to consign himself to.
"I ask these questions to get you to think, Kesi. I ask to understand what, where, and how you might prove more useful to me. You wish to bring people into the circus, but your talents are beyond that particular sentiment. You ask to be more useful and yet you relegate yourself to an aspiration that, ultimately, may be beneath you."
This was what he sought. He'd manipulate his sister into seeing the world his way, teach her into understanding not merely her worth, but what she could do to prove it to him. After he answered, he drew closer, his free hand shifting to splay along the flesh of her upper back, his digits grazing along her back in a straight line that framed the flesh of her spine. He brought her closer still to him, abandoning the premise of distance altogether. He'd have his chest set flush against her breasts as he tilted his head, letting his lips traverse her exposed pulse.
"You're wrong," he assured her. Before he threw her to the floor of his tent. He hovered above her, the smirk cast upon his lips as he told elaborated,
"I'm not looking for reasons to deny you. Every word spoken is with purpose. If you wish to grow, my dear, you must see the world as I do. Understand, anticipate, and act. I don't need you to entice people. I need you to watch them. I need you to ensure their loyalty and figure out which enemies, from without and within the circus itself, that we have."
He claimed Kesi's lips in a kiss, probing, ardent as he parted them and sought to claim the woman's tongue with his own. He held their proximity, the moment lost in an indulgent abandon before he said,
"You see your position as limited, but you are my eyes. You are my blade in the night. While Hamidi is my shield, you are the sword that inflicts wrath upon those that seek to betray me. The fact that you fail to understand your worth bewilders me. Know your place and see that it is far grander than what you think it to be."
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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This was the Kesi that Amenemhat yearned for.
He could see the change in her, the shift in her expression from the gaze that lost that wide-eyed childish innocence to the slow movements of her fingers that brushed against his chest before reaching for his face. Then, she spoke and the gait of her words slowed to a sultry crawl. The shift brought an instinctive change in his own touch. The fingers that sifted into her hair and played along the nape of her neck tightened, intent upon pulling her head back as if to bare her throat to him.
However, he did not indulge deeper than this. He listened to her speak, found a wry amusement in the words. He did not anger at the admission of that truth, because it was, while inadequate, not in defiance of his expectation. Kesi was, by her very nature, volatile. She was the serpent, seeking to constrict the enemies of his circus and protect what was rightfully hers. Amenemhat did not disagree with her in the slightest. It was true that a street performer's declinination and that of a nobleman were orders of magnitude apart. One was irrelevant, and would earn a shrug of the shoulders and a 'so long'. Amenemhat was not lacking in performers and new talent was easy to find. Or, better yet, cultivate from within the circus.
Hiring additional hands was a necessary, but ultimately, arbitrary task. Then, those that did harm to the circus. Their refusal was unacceptable. However, causing harm to such people in the moment was... complicated. He did not intend for Kesi to simply accept what was, for that defied the very nature of their worship of the God of Chaos, Set. Chaos did not forgive. Chaos did not relent. No was by no means the end, but just as chaos was unrelenting, it needed to be controlled. The Tempest of Set created chaos, but being, ultimately, sullied by its consequences was a fate he did not wish to consign himself to.
"I ask these questions to get you to think, Kesi. I ask to understand what, where, and how you might prove more useful to me. You wish to bring people into the circus, but your talents are beyond that particular sentiment. You ask to be more useful and yet you relegate yourself to an aspiration that, ultimately, may be beneath you."
This was what he sought. He'd manipulate his sister into seeing the world his way, teach her into understanding not merely her worth, but what she could do to prove it to him. After he answered, he drew closer, his free hand shifting to splay along the flesh of her upper back, his digits grazing along her back in a straight line that framed the flesh of her spine. He brought her closer still to him, abandoning the premise of distance altogether. He'd have his chest set flush against her breasts as he tilted his head, letting his lips traverse her exposed pulse.
"You're wrong," he assured her. Before he threw her to the floor of his tent. He hovered above her, the smirk cast upon his lips as he told elaborated,
"I'm not looking for reasons to deny you. Every word spoken is with purpose. If you wish to grow, my dear, you must see the world as I do. Understand, anticipate, and act. I don't need you to entice people. I need you to watch them. I need you to ensure their loyalty and figure out which enemies, from without and within the circus itself, that we have."
He claimed Kesi's lips in a kiss, probing, ardent as he parted them and sought to claim the woman's tongue with his own. He held their proximity, the moment lost in an indulgent abandon before he said,
"You see your position as limited, but you are my eyes. You are my blade in the night. While Hamidi is my shield, you are the sword that inflicts wrath upon those that seek to betray me. The fact that you fail to understand your worth bewilders me. Know your place and see that it is far grander than what you think it to be."
This was the Kesi that Amenemhat yearned for.
He could see the change in her, the shift in her expression from the gaze that lost that wide-eyed childish innocence to the slow movements of her fingers that brushed against his chest before reaching for his face. Then, she spoke and the gait of her words slowed to a sultry crawl. The shift brought an instinctive change in his own touch. The fingers that sifted into her hair and played along the nape of her neck tightened, intent upon pulling her head back as if to bare her throat to him.
However, he did not indulge deeper than this. He listened to her speak, found a wry amusement in the words. He did not anger at the admission of that truth, because it was, while inadequate, not in defiance of his expectation. Kesi was, by her very nature, volatile. She was the serpent, seeking to constrict the enemies of his circus and protect what was rightfully hers. Amenemhat did not disagree with her in the slightest. It was true that a street performer's declinination and that of a nobleman were orders of magnitude apart. One was irrelevant, and would earn a shrug of the shoulders and a 'so long'. Amenemhat was not lacking in performers and new talent was easy to find. Or, better yet, cultivate from within the circus.
Hiring additional hands was a necessary, but ultimately, arbitrary task. Then, those that did harm to the circus. Their refusal was unacceptable. However, causing harm to such people in the moment was... complicated. He did not intend for Kesi to simply accept what was, for that defied the very nature of their worship of the God of Chaos, Set. Chaos did not forgive. Chaos did not relent. No was by no means the end, but just as chaos was unrelenting, it needed to be controlled. The Tempest of Set created chaos, but being, ultimately, sullied by its consequences was a fate he did not wish to consign himself to.
"I ask these questions to get you to think, Kesi. I ask to understand what, where, and how you might prove more useful to me. You wish to bring people into the circus, but your talents are beyond that particular sentiment. You ask to be more useful and yet you relegate yourself to an aspiration that, ultimately, may be beneath you."
This was what he sought. He'd manipulate his sister into seeing the world his way, teach her into understanding not merely her worth, but what she could do to prove it to him. After he answered, he drew closer, his free hand shifting to splay along the flesh of her upper back, his digits grazing along her back in a straight line that framed the flesh of her spine. He brought her closer still to him, abandoning the premise of distance altogether. He'd have his chest set flush against her breasts as he tilted his head, letting his lips traverse her exposed pulse.
"You're wrong," he assured her. Before he threw her to the floor of his tent. He hovered above her, the smirk cast upon his lips as he told elaborated,
"I'm not looking for reasons to deny you. Every word spoken is with purpose. If you wish to grow, my dear, you must see the world as I do. Understand, anticipate, and act. I don't need you to entice people. I need you to watch them. I need you to ensure their loyalty and figure out which enemies, from without and within the circus itself, that we have."
He claimed Kesi's lips in a kiss, probing, ardent as he parted them and sought to claim the woman's tongue with his own. He held their proximity, the moment lost in an indulgent abandon before he said,
"You see your position as limited, but you are my eyes. You are my blade in the night. While Hamidi is my shield, you are the sword that inflicts wrath upon those that seek to betray me. The fact that you fail to understand your worth bewilders me. Know your place and see that it is far grander than what you think it to be."
The child within Kesi may not remember this conversation. She will continue to do what she chose, blindly believing that she was doing what was best for her older brother. But this Kesi didn’t care for what he wanted. All that mattered was what she wanted. Ever the protector for the child’s innate desires, the adult will fight tooth and nail for what she desired most.
And right now what she wanted was Amenemhat.
This was true when his grip tightened on her hair, forcing her head back. This was true when his lips met her neck, feeling her pulsating heart. And this was certainly true when he threw her to the ground, hovering over her like the god he was. From an outsider’s perspective, it might look as if he was a predator and she was his prey, but while the girl may be small, she had a very venomous bite.
His words were nothing but trivial drivel, meant to calm her ambitions and need to grow. While he was correct that wanting to recruit was beneath her, and she did not quite understand why the child wished to do this, wanting to do something beyond her did not mean she saw her position as limiting. Limiting would be if she fell into complacency and simply believed the world would never change. Kesi was and will forever be an agent of chaos. As such she must be able to adapt to the changing times, move beyond what is normal for when the abnormal occurs it is Kesi who is willing to embrace it.
Kesi, too, indulged in the moment. She allowed her tongue to be captured, and her teeth bit down on Nem’s lip, sucking on it before diving in for more. She was greedy. She was lustful. Her back arched, bringing her torso even closer to the man. Nails as always dug into his shoulder, not quite yet piercing skin. But it would, adding to the scars that she had left in times previous, simultaneously a trophy and a punishment for his conquest of Kesi.
As he spoke her free hand went to his hair and mimicked what he had previously done, a strong grip yanking his hair back. She was intent on exposing his neck so lips could travel from his jaw to his neck, sucking at his pulse before her tongue trailed back to his chest, her teeth grazing his flesh like fangs from her snakes along the way.
“For a sword to be of worth it must be cared for. It must be sharpened.” She said, hot breath against his chest. Clouded eyes glared back up at the man. “The mind too must be sharpened to be of any worth. The desire to grow beyond what is currently capable is not indicative of a feeling of inadequacy in one’s position. It is a desire to learn and be of continued use, to adapt to a dynamic world.”
Back up her mouth went, trailing up his chest, his neck, jaw, and to his ear. The grip on his hair squeezed tight. “You tell me you wish for me to watch for enemies inside the circus? I see an enemy in complacency.” She breathed. “If you don’t believe recruitment is what I am capable of, then guide me, Ringmaster. Tell me what I can do to please you.”
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This character is currently a work in progress.
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The child within Kesi may not remember this conversation. She will continue to do what she chose, blindly believing that she was doing what was best for her older brother. But this Kesi didn’t care for what he wanted. All that mattered was what she wanted. Ever the protector for the child’s innate desires, the adult will fight tooth and nail for what she desired most.
And right now what she wanted was Amenemhat.
This was true when his grip tightened on her hair, forcing her head back. This was true when his lips met her neck, feeling her pulsating heart. And this was certainly true when he threw her to the ground, hovering over her like the god he was. From an outsider’s perspective, it might look as if he was a predator and she was his prey, but while the girl may be small, she had a very venomous bite.
His words were nothing but trivial drivel, meant to calm her ambitions and need to grow. While he was correct that wanting to recruit was beneath her, and she did not quite understand why the child wished to do this, wanting to do something beyond her did not mean she saw her position as limiting. Limiting would be if she fell into complacency and simply believed the world would never change. Kesi was and will forever be an agent of chaos. As such she must be able to adapt to the changing times, move beyond what is normal for when the abnormal occurs it is Kesi who is willing to embrace it.
Kesi, too, indulged in the moment. She allowed her tongue to be captured, and her teeth bit down on Nem’s lip, sucking on it before diving in for more. She was greedy. She was lustful. Her back arched, bringing her torso even closer to the man. Nails as always dug into his shoulder, not quite yet piercing skin. But it would, adding to the scars that she had left in times previous, simultaneously a trophy and a punishment for his conquest of Kesi.
As he spoke her free hand went to his hair and mimicked what he had previously done, a strong grip yanking his hair back. She was intent on exposing his neck so lips could travel from his jaw to his neck, sucking at his pulse before her tongue trailed back to his chest, her teeth grazing his flesh like fangs from her snakes along the way.
“For a sword to be of worth it must be cared for. It must be sharpened.” She said, hot breath against his chest. Clouded eyes glared back up at the man. “The mind too must be sharpened to be of any worth. The desire to grow beyond what is currently capable is not indicative of a feeling of inadequacy in one’s position. It is a desire to learn and be of continued use, to adapt to a dynamic world.”
Back up her mouth went, trailing up his chest, his neck, jaw, and to his ear. The grip on his hair squeezed tight. “You tell me you wish for me to watch for enemies inside the circus? I see an enemy in complacency.” She breathed. “If you don’t believe recruitment is what I am capable of, then guide me, Ringmaster. Tell me what I can do to please you.”
The child within Kesi may not remember this conversation. She will continue to do what she chose, blindly believing that she was doing what was best for her older brother. But this Kesi didn’t care for what he wanted. All that mattered was what she wanted. Ever the protector for the child’s innate desires, the adult will fight tooth and nail for what she desired most.
And right now what she wanted was Amenemhat.
This was true when his grip tightened on her hair, forcing her head back. This was true when his lips met her neck, feeling her pulsating heart. And this was certainly true when he threw her to the ground, hovering over her like the god he was. From an outsider’s perspective, it might look as if he was a predator and she was his prey, but while the girl may be small, she had a very venomous bite.
His words were nothing but trivial drivel, meant to calm her ambitions and need to grow. While he was correct that wanting to recruit was beneath her, and she did not quite understand why the child wished to do this, wanting to do something beyond her did not mean she saw her position as limiting. Limiting would be if she fell into complacency and simply believed the world would never change. Kesi was and will forever be an agent of chaos. As such she must be able to adapt to the changing times, move beyond what is normal for when the abnormal occurs it is Kesi who is willing to embrace it.
Kesi, too, indulged in the moment. She allowed her tongue to be captured, and her teeth bit down on Nem’s lip, sucking on it before diving in for more. She was greedy. She was lustful. Her back arched, bringing her torso even closer to the man. Nails as always dug into his shoulder, not quite yet piercing skin. But it would, adding to the scars that she had left in times previous, simultaneously a trophy and a punishment for his conquest of Kesi.
As he spoke her free hand went to his hair and mimicked what he had previously done, a strong grip yanking his hair back. She was intent on exposing his neck so lips could travel from his jaw to his neck, sucking at his pulse before her tongue trailed back to his chest, her teeth grazing his flesh like fangs from her snakes along the way.
“For a sword to be of worth it must be cared for. It must be sharpened.” She said, hot breath against his chest. Clouded eyes glared back up at the man. “The mind too must be sharpened to be of any worth. The desire to grow beyond what is currently capable is not indicative of a feeling of inadequacy in one’s position. It is a desire to learn and be of continued use, to adapt to a dynamic world.”
Back up her mouth went, trailing up his chest, his neck, jaw, and to his ear. The grip on his hair squeezed tight. “You tell me you wish for me to watch for enemies inside the circus? I see an enemy in complacency.” She breathed. “If you don’t believe recruitment is what I am capable of, then guide me, Ringmaster. Tell me what I can do to please you.”
Ringmaster.
The utterance of the word was such a delicious thing. So arduously did Amenemhat work to deserve the title, from the smaller things as adapting his acts and ensuring every person had responsibilities best suited to their strengths to the more complicated responsibilities such as diverting funds in their proper allocations to the solicitation of noble coin purses and establishment of trade relations. Everything Amenemhat did was for his circus, but everything that the circus could be was to preserve himself. The death of the Tempest of Set would be his fall from grace, a divine providence that made him unfit to be the emissary for the God of Chaos that he envisioned himself as.
Ringmaster.
To him, the word was everything.
And so was the reward for that position. As Kesi spoke, a smirk caught upon his lips. Lips sore and swollen from collision with hers, his features heated from the proximity and indulgence in her... Amenemhat listened to her words and felt the familiar curl of desire, only whetted by the means with which she pulled his hair back, the fervor with which her lips sucked at his pulse and her teeth grazed the flesh after.
This was a Kesi he'd experienced so many times before, a vortex of desire and strength that none of the other iterations he'd seen could produce. She was a maelstrom, but Amenemhat was not some waif to be pulled into the winds of chaos. He allowed her a moment of freedom, to do as she wished before he relinquished his grasp from the hairs at her nape. Amenemhat allowed his grasp to settle at her hips, first. Strength given to him by years of honing himself in the circus coursed through him, his touch bruising as his palms kneaded along her hip, the other rising to bring his fingernails along her abdomen before he cupped her breast in his dominant hand.
"You overstep your bounds. The neck, Kesi, does not have its bruises so easily hidden," he chided her. A teasing breath for it was not entirely truthful. Body paint did wonders to hide his scars, but swollen flesh at obvious angles was an imperfection that could not be tolerated. But, he let the chide go as he kneaded her mound in his grasp, the other touch intent upon lifting the woman's thigh, parting her legs before he un-tethered the shendyt from his hips and allowed it to fall. In the same motion, he'd release her own bounds, then push forward to press his chest into hers. His hand liberated her breast in an easy transition, intent upon guiding her other leg.
"You're right. Complacency is an enemy. It breeds familiarity in an environment that seeks to foster change."
Amenemhat saw no need to acknowledge her final words. The moment was past for long speeches and solicited answers. The ringmaster guided his hips, shifting her own until he sheathed himself within the woman. Amenemhat brought one hand behind her, given to the arch of her back and running his nails up along her spine. As he began a rhythm of pace within her, his other hand captured her throat. He entangled her neck in his grasp, eager to feel the quickening of her pulse against his palm as he took her with abandon. Low groans fell from his lips as he breathed her name into her ear.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Ringmaster.
The utterance of the word was such a delicious thing. So arduously did Amenemhat work to deserve the title, from the smaller things as adapting his acts and ensuring every person had responsibilities best suited to their strengths to the more complicated responsibilities such as diverting funds in their proper allocations to the solicitation of noble coin purses and establishment of trade relations. Everything Amenemhat did was for his circus, but everything that the circus could be was to preserve himself. The death of the Tempest of Set would be his fall from grace, a divine providence that made him unfit to be the emissary for the God of Chaos that he envisioned himself as.
Ringmaster.
To him, the word was everything.
And so was the reward for that position. As Kesi spoke, a smirk caught upon his lips. Lips sore and swollen from collision with hers, his features heated from the proximity and indulgence in her... Amenemhat listened to her words and felt the familiar curl of desire, only whetted by the means with which she pulled his hair back, the fervor with which her lips sucked at his pulse and her teeth grazed the flesh after.
This was a Kesi he'd experienced so many times before, a vortex of desire and strength that none of the other iterations he'd seen could produce. She was a maelstrom, but Amenemhat was not some waif to be pulled into the winds of chaos. He allowed her a moment of freedom, to do as she wished before he relinquished his grasp from the hairs at her nape. Amenemhat allowed his grasp to settle at her hips, first. Strength given to him by years of honing himself in the circus coursed through him, his touch bruising as his palms kneaded along her hip, the other rising to bring his fingernails along her abdomen before he cupped her breast in his dominant hand.
"You overstep your bounds. The neck, Kesi, does not have its bruises so easily hidden," he chided her. A teasing breath for it was not entirely truthful. Body paint did wonders to hide his scars, but swollen flesh at obvious angles was an imperfection that could not be tolerated. But, he let the chide go as he kneaded her mound in his grasp, the other touch intent upon lifting the woman's thigh, parting her legs before he un-tethered the shendyt from his hips and allowed it to fall. In the same motion, he'd release her own bounds, then push forward to press his chest into hers. His hand liberated her breast in an easy transition, intent upon guiding her other leg.
"You're right. Complacency is an enemy. It breeds familiarity in an environment that seeks to foster change."
Amenemhat saw no need to acknowledge her final words. The moment was past for long speeches and solicited answers. The ringmaster guided his hips, shifting her own until he sheathed himself within the woman. Amenemhat brought one hand behind her, given to the arch of her back and running his nails up along her spine. As he began a rhythm of pace within her, his other hand captured her throat. He entangled her neck in his grasp, eager to feel the quickening of her pulse against his palm as he took her with abandon. Low groans fell from his lips as he breathed her name into her ear.
Ringmaster.
The utterance of the word was such a delicious thing. So arduously did Amenemhat work to deserve the title, from the smaller things as adapting his acts and ensuring every person had responsibilities best suited to their strengths to the more complicated responsibilities such as diverting funds in their proper allocations to the solicitation of noble coin purses and establishment of trade relations. Everything Amenemhat did was for his circus, but everything that the circus could be was to preserve himself. The death of the Tempest of Set would be his fall from grace, a divine providence that made him unfit to be the emissary for the God of Chaos that he envisioned himself as.
Ringmaster.
To him, the word was everything.
And so was the reward for that position. As Kesi spoke, a smirk caught upon his lips. Lips sore and swollen from collision with hers, his features heated from the proximity and indulgence in her... Amenemhat listened to her words and felt the familiar curl of desire, only whetted by the means with which she pulled his hair back, the fervor with which her lips sucked at his pulse and her teeth grazed the flesh after.
This was a Kesi he'd experienced so many times before, a vortex of desire and strength that none of the other iterations he'd seen could produce. She was a maelstrom, but Amenemhat was not some waif to be pulled into the winds of chaos. He allowed her a moment of freedom, to do as she wished before he relinquished his grasp from the hairs at her nape. Amenemhat allowed his grasp to settle at her hips, first. Strength given to him by years of honing himself in the circus coursed through him, his touch bruising as his palms kneaded along her hip, the other rising to bring his fingernails along her abdomen before he cupped her breast in his dominant hand.
"You overstep your bounds. The neck, Kesi, does not have its bruises so easily hidden," he chided her. A teasing breath for it was not entirely truthful. Body paint did wonders to hide his scars, but swollen flesh at obvious angles was an imperfection that could not be tolerated. But, he let the chide go as he kneaded her mound in his grasp, the other touch intent upon lifting the woman's thigh, parting her legs before he un-tethered the shendyt from his hips and allowed it to fall. In the same motion, he'd release her own bounds, then push forward to press his chest into hers. His hand liberated her breast in an easy transition, intent upon guiding her other leg.
"You're right. Complacency is an enemy. It breeds familiarity in an environment that seeks to foster change."
Amenemhat saw no need to acknowledge her final words. The moment was past for long speeches and solicited answers. The ringmaster guided his hips, shifting her own until he sheathed himself within the woman. Amenemhat brought one hand behind her, given to the arch of her back and running his nails up along her spine. As he began a rhythm of pace within her, his other hand captured her throat. He entangled her neck in his grasp, eager to feel the quickening of her pulse against his palm as he took her with abandon. Low groans fell from his lips as he breathed her name into her ear.
His hands at her hips brought bumps to her skin. The way they curled around them made her hungry for what was about to come. His words mattered not, for Kesi was only focused on his touch. The way his nails traveled up her flesh caused her breath catch from anticipation. And his hand, as it massaged her breast caused her nipples to harden from pure arousal. In response, her grip on his hair grew ever tighter, tight enough that her knuckles grew white.
There was no space between the pair now. Plump breasts pressed against hard abs, and her leg easily followed the hand that fell splitting open to allow the man entrance. Pain followed in the beginning as he made his way into her tight entrance. But as he found his rhythm, Kesi too found her’s. Hips matched his movements, lifting and lowering, feeling each time he filled her in the pit of her stomach, before sliding back out once again.
Then his fingers wrapped around her neck. She felt the adrenaline shoot through her as her breathing constricted. Hands dropped from his hair down to her back as nails finally pierced skin. If he would hurt her, then she would hurt him. Down they traveled, blood rising and trickling down, chasing after her fingers. A moan escaped her lips before once more it was silenced by his hand, blocking air and causing her face to redden.
Both literally and figuratively, Kesi’s life was in Amenemhat’s hand. He controlled her breathing as he controlled every aspect of her being. This, beyond all else, was what Kesi desired. She lusted Amenemhat’s control. While in everything and everyone else Kesi wanted power, to Amenemhat she found pleasure in her submission. Amenemhat was a god, a dominant being that did with Kesi what he will.
But despite this, she did not hand complete control to Amenemhat. Kesi still wanted more. She needed more. Sex was never enough for her. Kesi needed to feel destroyed by Amenemhat and be reminded of this for days after. She needed to feel Amenemhat in every inch of her body. She needed him to constantly be in her thoughts, when she moved, when she breathed, a reminder of her time spent with him. She needed to feel her god’s presence.
So when his hand loosened again, and her breathing returned, a twisted smile fell upon the girl’s lips. “Punish me harder.” This was no request. “I’ve overstepped my boundaries, so punish me.” She growled. Her bloodied fingers moved to his face now and her lips smashed into his. She was not gentle, she was never gentle. Her tongue pushed in, wanting every taste of Amenemhat. Teeth dug into his lip, biting hard now. Where Amenemhat had his sheer strength, Kesi had her bite and nails. She would not allow him to escape unscathed. Just as she was his property, he was hers. She would mark him as such so any woman who dares lay a wandering eye at him would know:
Kesi and Amenemhat were made for each other.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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His hands at her hips brought bumps to her skin. The way they curled around them made her hungry for what was about to come. His words mattered not, for Kesi was only focused on his touch. The way his nails traveled up her flesh caused her breath catch from anticipation. And his hand, as it massaged her breast caused her nipples to harden from pure arousal. In response, her grip on his hair grew ever tighter, tight enough that her knuckles grew white.
There was no space between the pair now. Plump breasts pressed against hard abs, and her leg easily followed the hand that fell splitting open to allow the man entrance. Pain followed in the beginning as he made his way into her tight entrance. But as he found his rhythm, Kesi too found her’s. Hips matched his movements, lifting and lowering, feeling each time he filled her in the pit of her stomach, before sliding back out once again.
Then his fingers wrapped around her neck. She felt the adrenaline shoot through her as her breathing constricted. Hands dropped from his hair down to her back as nails finally pierced skin. If he would hurt her, then she would hurt him. Down they traveled, blood rising and trickling down, chasing after her fingers. A moan escaped her lips before once more it was silenced by his hand, blocking air and causing her face to redden.
Both literally and figuratively, Kesi’s life was in Amenemhat’s hand. He controlled her breathing as he controlled every aspect of her being. This, beyond all else, was what Kesi desired. She lusted Amenemhat’s control. While in everything and everyone else Kesi wanted power, to Amenemhat she found pleasure in her submission. Amenemhat was a god, a dominant being that did with Kesi what he will.
But despite this, she did not hand complete control to Amenemhat. Kesi still wanted more. She needed more. Sex was never enough for her. Kesi needed to feel destroyed by Amenemhat and be reminded of this for days after. She needed to feel Amenemhat in every inch of her body. She needed him to constantly be in her thoughts, when she moved, when she breathed, a reminder of her time spent with him. She needed to feel her god’s presence.
So when his hand loosened again, and her breathing returned, a twisted smile fell upon the girl’s lips. “Punish me harder.” This was no request. “I’ve overstepped my boundaries, so punish me.” She growled. Her bloodied fingers moved to his face now and her lips smashed into his. She was not gentle, she was never gentle. Her tongue pushed in, wanting every taste of Amenemhat. Teeth dug into his lip, biting hard now. Where Amenemhat had his sheer strength, Kesi had her bite and nails. She would not allow him to escape unscathed. Just as she was his property, he was hers. She would mark him as such so any woman who dares lay a wandering eye at him would know:
Kesi and Amenemhat were made for each other.
His hands at her hips brought bumps to her skin. The way they curled around them made her hungry for what was about to come. His words mattered not, for Kesi was only focused on his touch. The way his nails traveled up her flesh caused her breath catch from anticipation. And his hand, as it massaged her breast caused her nipples to harden from pure arousal. In response, her grip on his hair grew ever tighter, tight enough that her knuckles grew white.
There was no space between the pair now. Plump breasts pressed against hard abs, and her leg easily followed the hand that fell splitting open to allow the man entrance. Pain followed in the beginning as he made his way into her tight entrance. But as he found his rhythm, Kesi too found her’s. Hips matched his movements, lifting and lowering, feeling each time he filled her in the pit of her stomach, before sliding back out once again.
Then his fingers wrapped around her neck. She felt the adrenaline shoot through her as her breathing constricted. Hands dropped from his hair down to her back as nails finally pierced skin. If he would hurt her, then she would hurt him. Down they traveled, blood rising and trickling down, chasing after her fingers. A moan escaped her lips before once more it was silenced by his hand, blocking air and causing her face to redden.
Both literally and figuratively, Kesi’s life was in Amenemhat’s hand. He controlled her breathing as he controlled every aspect of her being. This, beyond all else, was what Kesi desired. She lusted Amenemhat’s control. While in everything and everyone else Kesi wanted power, to Amenemhat she found pleasure in her submission. Amenemhat was a god, a dominant being that did with Kesi what he will.
But despite this, she did not hand complete control to Amenemhat. Kesi still wanted more. She needed more. Sex was never enough for her. Kesi needed to feel destroyed by Amenemhat and be reminded of this for days after. She needed to feel Amenemhat in every inch of her body. She needed him to constantly be in her thoughts, when she moved, when she breathed, a reminder of her time spent with him. She needed to feel her god’s presence.
So when his hand loosened again, and her breathing returned, a twisted smile fell upon the girl’s lips. “Punish me harder.” This was no request. “I’ve overstepped my boundaries, so punish me.” She growled. Her bloodied fingers moved to his face now and her lips smashed into his. She was not gentle, she was never gentle. Her tongue pushed in, wanting every taste of Amenemhat. Teeth dug into his lip, biting hard now. Where Amenemhat had his sheer strength, Kesi had her bite and nails. She would not allow him to escape unscathed. Just as she was his property, he was hers. She would mark him as such so any woman who dares lay a wandering eye at him would know:
Kesi and Amenemhat were made for each other.
Pain was never Amenemhat's concern when it came to Kesi.
She was a maelstrom of emotions when the world was still, but in the midst of pleasure she became an animal, focused entirely on greed for sensation and the desire for satisfaction. It was something that the two had in common, that they had in common with most of those that shared Egyptian heritage. The chase for pleasure did not end until it was completed. Nem felt his blood boil within his veins as his fingers wrapped around her throat, as her inner thighs rubbed against his hips with his every motion. She began to move as well, the groan of pleasures that filled his lips given to a snarl, visceral as he looked down at the woman not as sibling or lover, but as prey to be conquered.
Within his chest he felt the rampant pulse of his heart, just as he felt the pulse of hers against his palm. He listened to the words that cast from her lips, a command spoken in the midst of her submission. Always fussy, always greedy for attention and praise, it was in the form she was in now that she was granted it most. When she didn't ask for it, and instead demanded it, was when Amenemhat was at last inclined to offer her the solace of satisfaction. There was the distant pain of her fingers threaded into his hair, pulling upon the strands with a force that brought them closer still. She sought claim over his lips as her bloodied fingers mapped along his face, a sick amusement in the fact that she painted his face with the ink of his own blood.
He felt the twitch of arousal as his pace within her grew steeper still. There would be no disguise to the sounds of his pleasure, but to hers... it would not do to allow the open secret that was their relationship to be made into rampant gossip that could not be controlled. Amenemhat removed his fingers from her hair as adrenaline coursed through his veins. He unsheathed himself from within his sister, saying nothing to her demands, scarcely acknowledging them but with a nod of his head before he pulled the woman from the ground, using her throat in one hand and his elbow to hook about her waist to steer her.
There was no asking for permission, for she was his property. There was no patience in his movements, for their pleasure was his priority. He turned the woman over, shifting his grasp upon her neck to throw her upper body towards the ground. Then, he positioned facing downward, guiding the arch of her back with nails that raked along her spine before he sought to lift her hips up. Positioned behind her, Amenemhat took his manhood in one hand, guiding the tip before he took her anew. He struck at his lover's hips, intent upon leaving sore red imprints of his palm before he pulled back on her hair to guide her upright. Once she was in his chosen position, he began movement within her anew, giving no lenience to her, eager to make up for the lapse in time. He took hold of the belt of his shendyt, looping it around the woman's head before he commanded her,
"Open your mouth."
There was no room for disobedience, the intent clear as Amenemhat tightened the belt about her features intent upon gagging the woman and muting her sounds from echoing, untamed, from their tent. Once the task was done, he allowed himself to roam, exploratory in the body he knew nearly as well as his own. He cupped Kesi's breasts in each hand, using her body as leverage to drive himself deeper within her as hot, heavy breath trickled along the flesh of her neck.
In wild abandon, he took her, with caution thrown to the wind as the concerns of the world around them diminished to nothingness.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Pain was never Amenemhat's concern when it came to Kesi.
She was a maelstrom of emotions when the world was still, but in the midst of pleasure she became an animal, focused entirely on greed for sensation and the desire for satisfaction. It was something that the two had in common, that they had in common with most of those that shared Egyptian heritage. The chase for pleasure did not end until it was completed. Nem felt his blood boil within his veins as his fingers wrapped around her throat, as her inner thighs rubbed against his hips with his every motion. She began to move as well, the groan of pleasures that filled his lips given to a snarl, visceral as he looked down at the woman not as sibling or lover, but as prey to be conquered.
Within his chest he felt the rampant pulse of his heart, just as he felt the pulse of hers against his palm. He listened to the words that cast from her lips, a command spoken in the midst of her submission. Always fussy, always greedy for attention and praise, it was in the form she was in now that she was granted it most. When she didn't ask for it, and instead demanded it, was when Amenemhat was at last inclined to offer her the solace of satisfaction. There was the distant pain of her fingers threaded into his hair, pulling upon the strands with a force that brought them closer still. She sought claim over his lips as her bloodied fingers mapped along his face, a sick amusement in the fact that she painted his face with the ink of his own blood.
He felt the twitch of arousal as his pace within her grew steeper still. There would be no disguise to the sounds of his pleasure, but to hers... it would not do to allow the open secret that was their relationship to be made into rampant gossip that could not be controlled. Amenemhat removed his fingers from her hair as adrenaline coursed through his veins. He unsheathed himself from within his sister, saying nothing to her demands, scarcely acknowledging them but with a nod of his head before he pulled the woman from the ground, using her throat in one hand and his elbow to hook about her waist to steer her.
There was no asking for permission, for she was his property. There was no patience in his movements, for their pleasure was his priority. He turned the woman over, shifting his grasp upon her neck to throw her upper body towards the ground. Then, he positioned facing downward, guiding the arch of her back with nails that raked along her spine before he sought to lift her hips up. Positioned behind her, Amenemhat took his manhood in one hand, guiding the tip before he took her anew. He struck at his lover's hips, intent upon leaving sore red imprints of his palm before he pulled back on her hair to guide her upright. Once she was in his chosen position, he began movement within her anew, giving no lenience to her, eager to make up for the lapse in time. He took hold of the belt of his shendyt, looping it around the woman's head before he commanded her,
"Open your mouth."
There was no room for disobedience, the intent clear as Amenemhat tightened the belt about her features intent upon gagging the woman and muting her sounds from echoing, untamed, from their tent. Once the task was done, he allowed himself to roam, exploratory in the body he knew nearly as well as his own. He cupped Kesi's breasts in each hand, using her body as leverage to drive himself deeper within her as hot, heavy breath trickled along the flesh of her neck.
In wild abandon, he took her, with caution thrown to the wind as the concerns of the world around them diminished to nothingness.
Pain was never Amenemhat's concern when it came to Kesi.
She was a maelstrom of emotions when the world was still, but in the midst of pleasure she became an animal, focused entirely on greed for sensation and the desire for satisfaction. It was something that the two had in common, that they had in common with most of those that shared Egyptian heritage. The chase for pleasure did not end until it was completed. Nem felt his blood boil within his veins as his fingers wrapped around her throat, as her inner thighs rubbed against his hips with his every motion. She began to move as well, the groan of pleasures that filled his lips given to a snarl, visceral as he looked down at the woman not as sibling or lover, but as prey to be conquered.
Within his chest he felt the rampant pulse of his heart, just as he felt the pulse of hers against his palm. He listened to the words that cast from her lips, a command spoken in the midst of her submission. Always fussy, always greedy for attention and praise, it was in the form she was in now that she was granted it most. When she didn't ask for it, and instead demanded it, was when Amenemhat was at last inclined to offer her the solace of satisfaction. There was the distant pain of her fingers threaded into his hair, pulling upon the strands with a force that brought them closer still. She sought claim over his lips as her bloodied fingers mapped along his face, a sick amusement in the fact that she painted his face with the ink of his own blood.
He felt the twitch of arousal as his pace within her grew steeper still. There would be no disguise to the sounds of his pleasure, but to hers... it would not do to allow the open secret that was their relationship to be made into rampant gossip that could not be controlled. Amenemhat removed his fingers from her hair as adrenaline coursed through his veins. He unsheathed himself from within his sister, saying nothing to her demands, scarcely acknowledging them but with a nod of his head before he pulled the woman from the ground, using her throat in one hand and his elbow to hook about her waist to steer her.
There was no asking for permission, for she was his property. There was no patience in his movements, for their pleasure was his priority. He turned the woman over, shifting his grasp upon her neck to throw her upper body towards the ground. Then, he positioned facing downward, guiding the arch of her back with nails that raked along her spine before he sought to lift her hips up. Positioned behind her, Amenemhat took his manhood in one hand, guiding the tip before he took her anew. He struck at his lover's hips, intent upon leaving sore red imprints of his palm before he pulled back on her hair to guide her upright. Once she was in his chosen position, he began movement within her anew, giving no lenience to her, eager to make up for the lapse in time. He took hold of the belt of his shendyt, looping it around the woman's head before he commanded her,
"Open your mouth."
There was no room for disobedience, the intent clear as Amenemhat tightened the belt about her features intent upon gagging the woman and muting her sounds from echoing, untamed, from their tent. Once the task was done, he allowed himself to roam, exploratory in the body he knew nearly as well as his own. He cupped Kesi's breasts in each hand, using her body as leverage to drive himself deeper within her as hot, heavy breath trickled along the flesh of her neck.
In wild abandon, he took her, with caution thrown to the wind as the concerns of the world around them diminished to nothingness.
More, more, more. Her hips were slamming into him, taking their fill. He could feel how he twitched and throbbed inside her, the walls sensitive to every bit of movement. She could hardly stifle the moans pouring from her lips, knowing what would come if she could not stay quiet. But only his tongue could silence them slightly, his mouth muffling the sounds. She knew what would happen and yet…
When he exited her, Kesi whimpered. She was not there yet, not at all. She felt stolen from, cheated. Her eyes flashed before realizing he had nodded, and then it twisted into her masochistic little smile. Led by her throat, Kesi did nothing to stop him. She would behave as a good little toy did, knowing that the reward was just that much sweeter. She was once more roughly tossed to the ground, the tiny girl facing her back to him. Then when his nails ripped at her spine, she cried out in pleasure and pain. She dropped to her elbows, head on the ground with each strike of her hips moans growing louder. Her own hands covered her mouth so she could not be heard from the outside. One… two… Oh, she wanted more. She wanted to be covered in welts and bruises, battered harder than a punished slave. Greedy, always greedy.
And then the sudden shock of pain pulled her upright. Her head titled back and she Amenemhat once more. Another whimper escaped her lips and a soft crinkle of her nose knowing exactly what was coming next. The belt, that entered her mouth and silenced her of her demands. No longer could she tell him what she wanted. He made all the decisions now.
Well… almost.
There was no easing, no hesitation. Now the two were moving like ravenous animals, thirsting for one another. Over and over again she felt that punch to her stomach, split seconds apart, as he hit her spot and lit her body aflame. Her toes curled more. Her own bloodied hands met his, tightening the squeeze on her breasts. Her chest heaved up and down with large, staggered breaths.
Suddenly she snapped her head back. She wasn’t intent on breaking anything, but to give him a sudden force of her skull. He should feel pain too, just as she did. Kesi was not a selfish lover. She would batter Nem just as bad as he did to her. She would make sure he, too, had a reminder of Kesi to carry around. Scars were not enough. The pain would be a constant ebbing in the back of his mind. Just as he enveloped her thoughts, consumed him at all hours of the day, so too would Kesi.
She would grow. If not as an employee, then as his lover. No woman could do what she did.
Her hands left her breast and she arched her back even more to reach behind her. They wrapped around his throat. She knew not to bruise, not to cut. That was bad. But both thumbs pressed down in the center, just as he did to her. Dark eyes looked up at Nem with a sadistic glint. He took away her power to talk, so she would take away his ability to breathe.
All was fair in love and war.
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More, more, more. Her hips were slamming into him, taking their fill. He could feel how he twitched and throbbed inside her, the walls sensitive to every bit of movement. She could hardly stifle the moans pouring from her lips, knowing what would come if she could not stay quiet. But only his tongue could silence them slightly, his mouth muffling the sounds. She knew what would happen and yet…
When he exited her, Kesi whimpered. She was not there yet, not at all. She felt stolen from, cheated. Her eyes flashed before realizing he had nodded, and then it twisted into her masochistic little smile. Led by her throat, Kesi did nothing to stop him. She would behave as a good little toy did, knowing that the reward was just that much sweeter. She was once more roughly tossed to the ground, the tiny girl facing her back to him. Then when his nails ripped at her spine, she cried out in pleasure and pain. She dropped to her elbows, head on the ground with each strike of her hips moans growing louder. Her own hands covered her mouth so she could not be heard from the outside. One… two… Oh, she wanted more. She wanted to be covered in welts and bruises, battered harder than a punished slave. Greedy, always greedy.
And then the sudden shock of pain pulled her upright. Her head titled back and she Amenemhat once more. Another whimper escaped her lips and a soft crinkle of her nose knowing exactly what was coming next. The belt, that entered her mouth and silenced her of her demands. No longer could she tell him what she wanted. He made all the decisions now.
Well… almost.
There was no easing, no hesitation. Now the two were moving like ravenous animals, thirsting for one another. Over and over again she felt that punch to her stomach, split seconds apart, as he hit her spot and lit her body aflame. Her toes curled more. Her own bloodied hands met his, tightening the squeeze on her breasts. Her chest heaved up and down with large, staggered breaths.
Suddenly she snapped her head back. She wasn’t intent on breaking anything, but to give him a sudden force of her skull. He should feel pain too, just as she did. Kesi was not a selfish lover. She would batter Nem just as bad as he did to her. She would make sure he, too, had a reminder of Kesi to carry around. Scars were not enough. The pain would be a constant ebbing in the back of his mind. Just as he enveloped her thoughts, consumed him at all hours of the day, so too would Kesi.
She would grow. If not as an employee, then as his lover. No woman could do what she did.
Her hands left her breast and she arched her back even more to reach behind her. They wrapped around his throat. She knew not to bruise, not to cut. That was bad. But both thumbs pressed down in the center, just as he did to her. Dark eyes looked up at Nem with a sadistic glint. He took away her power to talk, so she would take away his ability to breathe.
All was fair in love and war.
More, more, more. Her hips were slamming into him, taking their fill. He could feel how he twitched and throbbed inside her, the walls sensitive to every bit of movement. She could hardly stifle the moans pouring from her lips, knowing what would come if she could not stay quiet. But only his tongue could silence them slightly, his mouth muffling the sounds. She knew what would happen and yet…
When he exited her, Kesi whimpered. She was not there yet, not at all. She felt stolen from, cheated. Her eyes flashed before realizing he had nodded, and then it twisted into her masochistic little smile. Led by her throat, Kesi did nothing to stop him. She would behave as a good little toy did, knowing that the reward was just that much sweeter. She was once more roughly tossed to the ground, the tiny girl facing her back to him. Then when his nails ripped at her spine, she cried out in pleasure and pain. She dropped to her elbows, head on the ground with each strike of her hips moans growing louder. Her own hands covered her mouth so she could not be heard from the outside. One… two… Oh, she wanted more. She wanted to be covered in welts and bruises, battered harder than a punished slave. Greedy, always greedy.
And then the sudden shock of pain pulled her upright. Her head titled back and she Amenemhat once more. Another whimper escaped her lips and a soft crinkle of her nose knowing exactly what was coming next. The belt, that entered her mouth and silenced her of her demands. No longer could she tell him what she wanted. He made all the decisions now.
Well… almost.
There was no easing, no hesitation. Now the two were moving like ravenous animals, thirsting for one another. Over and over again she felt that punch to her stomach, split seconds apart, as he hit her spot and lit her body aflame. Her toes curled more. Her own bloodied hands met his, tightening the squeeze on her breasts. Her chest heaved up and down with large, staggered breaths.
Suddenly she snapped her head back. She wasn’t intent on breaking anything, but to give him a sudden force of her skull. He should feel pain too, just as she did. Kesi was not a selfish lover. She would batter Nem just as bad as he did to her. She would make sure he, too, had a reminder of Kesi to carry around. Scars were not enough. The pain would be a constant ebbing in the back of his mind. Just as he enveloped her thoughts, consumed him at all hours of the day, so too would Kesi.
She would grow. If not as an employee, then as his lover. No woman could do what she did.
Her hands left her breast and she arched her back even more to reach behind her. They wrapped around his throat. She knew not to bruise, not to cut. That was bad. But both thumbs pressed down in the center, just as he did to her. Dark eyes looked up at Nem with a sadistic glint. He took away her power to talk, so she would take away his ability to breathe.
All was fair in love and war.
Blood welled against Amemenmhat's fingertips as they raked along the flesh of Kesi's spine, the shiver of desire rolling through his shoulders and throughout his body as she fell to the ground with moans escaping her mouth. Her pleasure was important to him, but so was her subservience, the movements that showed her bowing to his whims as he struck at her hips and as her mouth was covered by her lips. Nem and Kesi was a sort of open secret throughout the circus, something that was expressed only in rumour and unverified. Having Kesi muffle her noises perpetuated the mystery of it and made it simpler for the both of them.
But, nonetheless, there was the smirk that wove upon his lips as the muffled tones escaped her. He needed them louder, to break past the cusp of what wouldn't carry before he robbed her of her ability to raise her voice at all. He brought her closer, bringing her to his chest and wrapped that belt about her head in the attempt to silence her.
But, the noises would persist and he sought for it to be so. He sheathed himself within her anew, his position far more suited to driving all of him that would fit deeper within her. His pace was faster, harder, the fervor of his movements drawing out sounds that he muffled against her throat up until he pulled back to observe the bloodied, yet exquisite body that was his to commandeer. Then, her head whipped back and reflexively, all he could do was turn his head so that she didn't shatter his nose. The impact fell directly upon his cheek, a crack audible as laughter spilled from his lips. Adrenaline coursed throughout his veins, his eyes wide as for but a moment, his movements ceased entirely.
He recoiled, taking the pain and adding it to his list of reasons to punish the gagged and prone woman. He lifted a hand from her breast to tighten his digits in the tresses of her hair. Oh, how he pulled her hair, so ardent on wresting several of the strands from her scalp. As his grasp tightened, he threw her forward again, catching her with the hand that continued to hold her breast, squeezing the mound between alternating grasps upon her flesh and the hardened peak.
Ardent was the sadistic pleasure that Nem took in ravaging Kesi. Was he, perhaps, a bit of a masochist as well? He considered the idea as he throbbed within her, each clap of his pelvis against her hips stretching her sex and claiming the hole as his own. His nails tore into the girl's scalp up until she returned to her upright position against him and reached back in her awkward angle to wrap her fingers about his throat. It was almost cute, how she insisted on causing him pain, pain that sought to mingle with pleasure in their particular way. But, she was out of her depth, out of position, and her body simply wasn't strong enough to force what she wanted. He breathed loudly against her fingers, mocking her efforts willfully.
Then, he struck her. His punishing pace was met with the collision of his hand against her hips, the grasp that sought to end her movements and still her, making her hips the recipient of his force and nothing else. He sheathed himself within her over and over, drawing nearer to his peak as his chest pressed into her back. Sweat would seek to sting into the abrasions on her skin, every effort she sought to instill pain in him met with an effort of his own. There was no one else Amenemhat could indulge in this sort of barbaric, violent pleasure in.
Kesi was in a league of her own, and he reveled in punishing her for it.
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Blood welled against Amemenmhat's fingertips as they raked along the flesh of Kesi's spine, the shiver of desire rolling through his shoulders and throughout his body as she fell to the ground with moans escaping her mouth. Her pleasure was important to him, but so was her subservience, the movements that showed her bowing to his whims as he struck at her hips and as her mouth was covered by her lips. Nem and Kesi was a sort of open secret throughout the circus, something that was expressed only in rumour and unverified. Having Kesi muffle her noises perpetuated the mystery of it and made it simpler for the both of them.
But, nonetheless, there was the smirk that wove upon his lips as the muffled tones escaped her. He needed them louder, to break past the cusp of what wouldn't carry before he robbed her of her ability to raise her voice at all. He brought her closer, bringing her to his chest and wrapped that belt about her head in the attempt to silence her.
But, the noises would persist and he sought for it to be so. He sheathed himself within her anew, his position far more suited to driving all of him that would fit deeper within her. His pace was faster, harder, the fervor of his movements drawing out sounds that he muffled against her throat up until he pulled back to observe the bloodied, yet exquisite body that was his to commandeer. Then, her head whipped back and reflexively, all he could do was turn his head so that she didn't shatter his nose. The impact fell directly upon his cheek, a crack audible as laughter spilled from his lips. Adrenaline coursed throughout his veins, his eyes wide as for but a moment, his movements ceased entirely.
He recoiled, taking the pain and adding it to his list of reasons to punish the gagged and prone woman. He lifted a hand from her breast to tighten his digits in the tresses of her hair. Oh, how he pulled her hair, so ardent on wresting several of the strands from her scalp. As his grasp tightened, he threw her forward again, catching her with the hand that continued to hold her breast, squeezing the mound between alternating grasps upon her flesh and the hardened peak.
Ardent was the sadistic pleasure that Nem took in ravaging Kesi. Was he, perhaps, a bit of a masochist as well? He considered the idea as he throbbed within her, each clap of his pelvis against her hips stretching her sex and claiming the hole as his own. His nails tore into the girl's scalp up until she returned to her upright position against him and reached back in her awkward angle to wrap her fingers about his throat. It was almost cute, how she insisted on causing him pain, pain that sought to mingle with pleasure in their particular way. But, she was out of her depth, out of position, and her body simply wasn't strong enough to force what she wanted. He breathed loudly against her fingers, mocking her efforts willfully.
Then, he struck her. His punishing pace was met with the collision of his hand against her hips, the grasp that sought to end her movements and still her, making her hips the recipient of his force and nothing else. He sheathed himself within her over and over, drawing nearer to his peak as his chest pressed into her back. Sweat would seek to sting into the abrasions on her skin, every effort she sought to instill pain in him met with an effort of his own. There was no one else Amenemhat could indulge in this sort of barbaric, violent pleasure in.
Kesi was in a league of her own, and he reveled in punishing her for it.
Blood welled against Amemenmhat's fingertips as they raked along the flesh of Kesi's spine, the shiver of desire rolling through his shoulders and throughout his body as she fell to the ground with moans escaping her mouth. Her pleasure was important to him, but so was her subservience, the movements that showed her bowing to his whims as he struck at her hips and as her mouth was covered by her lips. Nem and Kesi was a sort of open secret throughout the circus, something that was expressed only in rumour and unverified. Having Kesi muffle her noises perpetuated the mystery of it and made it simpler for the both of them.
But, nonetheless, there was the smirk that wove upon his lips as the muffled tones escaped her. He needed them louder, to break past the cusp of what wouldn't carry before he robbed her of her ability to raise her voice at all. He brought her closer, bringing her to his chest and wrapped that belt about her head in the attempt to silence her.
But, the noises would persist and he sought for it to be so. He sheathed himself within her anew, his position far more suited to driving all of him that would fit deeper within her. His pace was faster, harder, the fervor of his movements drawing out sounds that he muffled against her throat up until he pulled back to observe the bloodied, yet exquisite body that was his to commandeer. Then, her head whipped back and reflexively, all he could do was turn his head so that she didn't shatter his nose. The impact fell directly upon his cheek, a crack audible as laughter spilled from his lips. Adrenaline coursed throughout his veins, his eyes wide as for but a moment, his movements ceased entirely.
He recoiled, taking the pain and adding it to his list of reasons to punish the gagged and prone woman. He lifted a hand from her breast to tighten his digits in the tresses of her hair. Oh, how he pulled her hair, so ardent on wresting several of the strands from her scalp. As his grasp tightened, he threw her forward again, catching her with the hand that continued to hold her breast, squeezing the mound between alternating grasps upon her flesh and the hardened peak.
Ardent was the sadistic pleasure that Nem took in ravaging Kesi. Was he, perhaps, a bit of a masochist as well? He considered the idea as he throbbed within her, each clap of his pelvis against her hips stretching her sex and claiming the hole as his own. His nails tore into the girl's scalp up until she returned to her upright position against him and reached back in her awkward angle to wrap her fingers about his throat. It was almost cute, how she insisted on causing him pain, pain that sought to mingle with pleasure in their particular way. But, she was out of her depth, out of position, and her body simply wasn't strong enough to force what she wanted. He breathed loudly against her fingers, mocking her efforts willfully.
Then, he struck her. His punishing pace was met with the collision of his hand against her hips, the grasp that sought to end her movements and still her, making her hips the recipient of his force and nothing else. He sheathed himself within her over and over, drawing nearer to his peak as his chest pressed into her back. Sweat would seek to sting into the abrasions on her skin, every effort she sought to instill pain in him met with an effort of his own. There was no one else Amenemhat could indulge in this sort of barbaric, violent pleasure in.
Kesi was in a league of her own, and he reveled in punishing her for it.
What this facet of Kesi did not understand was the aversion to pain that the other egos in her mind had. Pain and pleasure were synonymous. They both drew adrenaline to the brain, lit the body aflame. They both brought Kesi closer to the intended goal, where she would feel tension and muscles would contract before all at once it would be released. Why on earth could anyone not enjoy pain, especially when it was caused by Amenemhat? The constant pushing to one’s limits was the embodiment of trust between the pair. For the harder they pushed, the more they withstood, the stronger they were, both as lover and person. To be broken and repaired by Amenemhat was a privilege. And to be able to mark Amenemhat as Kesi did was an honor.
But a new emotion entered the mix: Anger. For he taunted her. As breath panned across her fingers when she had attempted to choke him, it hit just as hard as her hands on her hips. For now it was a challenge he was presenting her. And Kesi would never fail, especially when the challenge was issued by Amenemhat.
For a moment Kesi relished in his hand beating across her hips, and just how much he filled her leaving no space between them. The sweat and blood that dripped from both of them was an extra little torture to Kesi, like a bit of salt on a wound. She was shivering, trembling. Despite the belt used to muffle her sounds, her moans were still audible. The skin underneath Nem’s grasp was raw and purpling, and yet he continued to strike it, showing no mercy to the woman in his control.
And neither would Kesi, for she did not forget her anger. She felt her muscles begin to squeeze, and that tightening of her stomach. No, this was too early. She was a good girl, she would wait. She twisted her body and turned around. It was Kesi’s turn now. She shoved Amenemhat to the ground and straddled his waist. Kesi discarded the pain that movement caused her and soldiered through. Her hand went to Nem’s manhood and grasped it firmly. A thumb rolled over its head as she positioned herself and it over her entrance. Once secured, she returned to the similar pace as before, hips slamming against hips. Her sore breasts bounced up and down and she threw her head back taking the moment to enjoy herself.
But pain would come, for while she was weak before, she had better positioned herself now. She leaned forward with both her hands at her brother’s throat. She used her own weight to constrict the air now. Pain, pleasure, her brother would feel it all. He would feel exactly how she felt, the utter bliss and ecstasy that came with their sex. The two beaten and sore, unable to move and utterly happy about it. Hips continued to rock back, as she allowed him the chance to breathe before constricting once again.
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What this facet of Kesi did not understand was the aversion to pain that the other egos in her mind had. Pain and pleasure were synonymous. They both drew adrenaline to the brain, lit the body aflame. They both brought Kesi closer to the intended goal, where she would feel tension and muscles would contract before all at once it would be released. Why on earth could anyone not enjoy pain, especially when it was caused by Amenemhat? The constant pushing to one’s limits was the embodiment of trust between the pair. For the harder they pushed, the more they withstood, the stronger they were, both as lover and person. To be broken and repaired by Amenemhat was a privilege. And to be able to mark Amenemhat as Kesi did was an honor.
But a new emotion entered the mix: Anger. For he taunted her. As breath panned across her fingers when she had attempted to choke him, it hit just as hard as her hands on her hips. For now it was a challenge he was presenting her. And Kesi would never fail, especially when the challenge was issued by Amenemhat.
For a moment Kesi relished in his hand beating across her hips, and just how much he filled her leaving no space between them. The sweat and blood that dripped from both of them was an extra little torture to Kesi, like a bit of salt on a wound. She was shivering, trembling. Despite the belt used to muffle her sounds, her moans were still audible. The skin underneath Nem’s grasp was raw and purpling, and yet he continued to strike it, showing no mercy to the woman in his control.
And neither would Kesi, for she did not forget her anger. She felt her muscles begin to squeeze, and that tightening of her stomach. No, this was too early. She was a good girl, she would wait. She twisted her body and turned around. It was Kesi’s turn now. She shoved Amenemhat to the ground and straddled his waist. Kesi discarded the pain that movement caused her and soldiered through. Her hand went to Nem’s manhood and grasped it firmly. A thumb rolled over its head as she positioned herself and it over her entrance. Once secured, she returned to the similar pace as before, hips slamming against hips. Her sore breasts bounced up and down and she threw her head back taking the moment to enjoy herself.
But pain would come, for while she was weak before, she had better positioned herself now. She leaned forward with both her hands at her brother’s throat. She used her own weight to constrict the air now. Pain, pleasure, her brother would feel it all. He would feel exactly how she felt, the utter bliss and ecstasy that came with their sex. The two beaten and sore, unable to move and utterly happy about it. Hips continued to rock back, as she allowed him the chance to breathe before constricting once again.
What this facet of Kesi did not understand was the aversion to pain that the other egos in her mind had. Pain and pleasure were synonymous. They both drew adrenaline to the brain, lit the body aflame. They both brought Kesi closer to the intended goal, where she would feel tension and muscles would contract before all at once it would be released. Why on earth could anyone not enjoy pain, especially when it was caused by Amenemhat? The constant pushing to one’s limits was the embodiment of trust between the pair. For the harder they pushed, the more they withstood, the stronger they were, both as lover and person. To be broken and repaired by Amenemhat was a privilege. And to be able to mark Amenemhat as Kesi did was an honor.
But a new emotion entered the mix: Anger. For he taunted her. As breath panned across her fingers when she had attempted to choke him, it hit just as hard as her hands on her hips. For now it was a challenge he was presenting her. And Kesi would never fail, especially when the challenge was issued by Amenemhat.
For a moment Kesi relished in his hand beating across her hips, and just how much he filled her leaving no space between them. The sweat and blood that dripped from both of them was an extra little torture to Kesi, like a bit of salt on a wound. She was shivering, trembling. Despite the belt used to muffle her sounds, her moans were still audible. The skin underneath Nem’s grasp was raw and purpling, and yet he continued to strike it, showing no mercy to the woman in his control.
And neither would Kesi, for she did not forget her anger. She felt her muscles begin to squeeze, and that tightening of her stomach. No, this was too early. She was a good girl, she would wait. She twisted her body and turned around. It was Kesi’s turn now. She shoved Amenemhat to the ground and straddled his waist. Kesi discarded the pain that movement caused her and soldiered through. Her hand went to Nem’s manhood and grasped it firmly. A thumb rolled over its head as she positioned herself and it over her entrance. Once secured, she returned to the similar pace as before, hips slamming against hips. Her sore breasts bounced up and down and she threw her head back taking the moment to enjoy herself.
But pain would come, for while she was weak before, she had better positioned herself now. She leaned forward with both her hands at her brother’s throat. She used her own weight to constrict the air now. Pain, pleasure, her brother would feel it all. He would feel exactly how she felt, the utter bliss and ecstasy that came with their sex. The two beaten and sore, unable to move and utterly happy about it. Hips continued to rock back, as she allowed him the chance to breathe before constricting once again.
Amenemhat's mockery was not missed.
He taunted her with the inability to choke him given the angle of her hands, breathing against her fingertips even as he took her, claimed her, marked her as his. Every thrust within her brought him closer, the pleasure that coursed through his body the desire rising higher and higher as the shivers and tremors from Kesi only served to fan the flames of his desire for Kesi. It was a brutalizing sensation, one he basked in fully. With a mind like his, predisposed towards violence and the eager pursuit of his indelible desires, this was the sort of indulgence he reveled in most. There was some pleasure in carnal indulgence without pain and violence ingrained within it, but this...
Amenemhat's desire for violence was tempered by taking it out on the maelstrom that was Kesi. As he saw the beaten flesh beneath his hands, he did not relent. Rather, his nails pushed into the raw skin just as he felt her clenched muscles around his manhood tighten just slightly further, indicative of her impending peak. He sought to push her further. That was, of course, until she decided to push him. The sort of laughter that escaped him at the effort, at her position attempting to wrest him to the ground... He was rather keen on denying her the opportunity until a split-second decision encouraged him not to.
He let himself be thrown to the ground, cradling his fall with one hand before he brought himself to the floor. He did not move as she grasped at his manhood and guided herself into position, sheathing himself back within her before slowly moving back to the pace that they'd taken to before. Her breasts bounced freely without his intervention, and as she threw her head back... he decided to play her game. Nails punctured into the flesh of her thighs, drawing blood as he kneaded at the sore and battered flesh with his palms. He shifted his weight, feeling the tight contraction of his abdomen as he raised himself with no further aid.
He raised just one hand, letting blood-tipped fingers trawl along the flesh of her thigh before they grazed along the path if her spine. Already, her hands wrapped around his throat, but the force she could apply lessened as his position shifted. He let the placating wheeze escape his lips, his face reddening as he shifted his own hips, bounding the woman's small body on the length of him as the smirk cast upon his lips. His hand threaded into the dark tresses of her hair, as he pressed forward to claim her lips in but a momentary kiss. Then, he paid her back in kind for her unexpected maneuver. The crown of his head sought to collide directly with her forehead as his pace picked up, as he tightened his grip upon her thigh and as the twitch within her indicated the furthering of his pleasure.
Amenemehat might've been in a compromising position, but never would he be still, be subservient, and care only for his own pleasure as his length ravaged her sex and his blood trickled along Kesi's palms and sweat stung at the wounds wrought from their union. If she recoiled from the motion, he'd tighten his grasp in her hair, intent upon keeping her drawn to his lips as he tilted his head and allowed them to trace the flesh of her pulse. Teeth and lips pressed upon the skin in alternating patterns as he felt the pressure within his mind unhinge.
The world fell into a sheet of white light as he, for a moment, lost himself in everything. The pain was gone in a moment of culminating pleasure, as his pace increased within her and a rope of his seed sought to fill her.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Amenemhat's mockery was not missed.
He taunted her with the inability to choke him given the angle of her hands, breathing against her fingertips even as he took her, claimed her, marked her as his. Every thrust within her brought him closer, the pleasure that coursed through his body the desire rising higher and higher as the shivers and tremors from Kesi only served to fan the flames of his desire for Kesi. It was a brutalizing sensation, one he basked in fully. With a mind like his, predisposed towards violence and the eager pursuit of his indelible desires, this was the sort of indulgence he reveled in most. There was some pleasure in carnal indulgence without pain and violence ingrained within it, but this...
Amenemhat's desire for violence was tempered by taking it out on the maelstrom that was Kesi. As he saw the beaten flesh beneath his hands, he did not relent. Rather, his nails pushed into the raw skin just as he felt her clenched muscles around his manhood tighten just slightly further, indicative of her impending peak. He sought to push her further. That was, of course, until she decided to push him. The sort of laughter that escaped him at the effort, at her position attempting to wrest him to the ground... He was rather keen on denying her the opportunity until a split-second decision encouraged him not to.
He let himself be thrown to the ground, cradling his fall with one hand before he brought himself to the floor. He did not move as she grasped at his manhood and guided herself into position, sheathing himself back within her before slowly moving back to the pace that they'd taken to before. Her breasts bounced freely without his intervention, and as she threw her head back... he decided to play her game. Nails punctured into the flesh of her thighs, drawing blood as he kneaded at the sore and battered flesh with his palms. He shifted his weight, feeling the tight contraction of his abdomen as he raised himself with no further aid.
He raised just one hand, letting blood-tipped fingers trawl along the flesh of her thigh before they grazed along the path if her spine. Already, her hands wrapped around his throat, but the force she could apply lessened as his position shifted. He let the placating wheeze escape his lips, his face reddening as he shifted his own hips, bounding the woman's small body on the length of him as the smirk cast upon his lips. His hand threaded into the dark tresses of her hair, as he pressed forward to claim her lips in but a momentary kiss. Then, he paid her back in kind for her unexpected maneuver. The crown of his head sought to collide directly with her forehead as his pace picked up, as he tightened his grip upon her thigh and as the twitch within her indicated the furthering of his pleasure.
Amenemehat might've been in a compromising position, but never would he be still, be subservient, and care only for his own pleasure as his length ravaged her sex and his blood trickled along Kesi's palms and sweat stung at the wounds wrought from their union. If she recoiled from the motion, he'd tighten his grasp in her hair, intent upon keeping her drawn to his lips as he tilted his head and allowed them to trace the flesh of her pulse. Teeth and lips pressed upon the skin in alternating patterns as he felt the pressure within his mind unhinge.
The world fell into a sheet of white light as he, for a moment, lost himself in everything. The pain was gone in a moment of culminating pleasure, as his pace increased within her and a rope of his seed sought to fill her.
Amenemhat's mockery was not missed.
He taunted her with the inability to choke him given the angle of her hands, breathing against her fingertips even as he took her, claimed her, marked her as his. Every thrust within her brought him closer, the pleasure that coursed through his body the desire rising higher and higher as the shivers and tremors from Kesi only served to fan the flames of his desire for Kesi. It was a brutalizing sensation, one he basked in fully. With a mind like his, predisposed towards violence and the eager pursuit of his indelible desires, this was the sort of indulgence he reveled in most. There was some pleasure in carnal indulgence without pain and violence ingrained within it, but this...
Amenemhat's desire for violence was tempered by taking it out on the maelstrom that was Kesi. As he saw the beaten flesh beneath his hands, he did not relent. Rather, his nails pushed into the raw skin just as he felt her clenched muscles around his manhood tighten just slightly further, indicative of her impending peak. He sought to push her further. That was, of course, until she decided to push him. The sort of laughter that escaped him at the effort, at her position attempting to wrest him to the ground... He was rather keen on denying her the opportunity until a split-second decision encouraged him not to.
He let himself be thrown to the ground, cradling his fall with one hand before he brought himself to the floor. He did not move as she grasped at his manhood and guided herself into position, sheathing himself back within her before slowly moving back to the pace that they'd taken to before. Her breasts bounced freely without his intervention, and as she threw her head back... he decided to play her game. Nails punctured into the flesh of her thighs, drawing blood as he kneaded at the sore and battered flesh with his palms. He shifted his weight, feeling the tight contraction of his abdomen as he raised himself with no further aid.
He raised just one hand, letting blood-tipped fingers trawl along the flesh of her thigh before they grazed along the path if her spine. Already, her hands wrapped around his throat, but the force she could apply lessened as his position shifted. He let the placating wheeze escape his lips, his face reddening as he shifted his own hips, bounding the woman's small body on the length of him as the smirk cast upon his lips. His hand threaded into the dark tresses of her hair, as he pressed forward to claim her lips in but a momentary kiss. Then, he paid her back in kind for her unexpected maneuver. The crown of his head sought to collide directly with her forehead as his pace picked up, as he tightened his grip upon her thigh and as the twitch within her indicated the furthering of his pleasure.
Amenemehat might've been in a compromising position, but never would he be still, be subservient, and care only for his own pleasure as his length ravaged her sex and his blood trickled along Kesi's palms and sweat stung at the wounds wrought from their union. If she recoiled from the motion, he'd tighten his grasp in her hair, intent upon keeping her drawn to his lips as he tilted his head and allowed them to trace the flesh of her pulse. Teeth and lips pressed upon the skin in alternating patterns as he felt the pressure within his mind unhinge.
The world fell into a sheet of white light as he, for a moment, lost himself in everything. The pain was gone in a moment of culminating pleasure, as his pace increased within her and a rope of his seed sought to fill her.
With her gag gone Kesi’s moans could be heard once again, loud now that they were unmuffled, not that they were all that hidden before. But then once again his mouth found her’s, quieting her cries with his tongue.
Wham.
His forehead smacked against her’s and Kesi blinked daze, head moving back only for the grip to tighten in her hair. She couldn’t help but smirk at the retaliation, before once more getting lost in the moment. Faster and faster she went, getting more and more desperate. It wasn’t the moment to play anymore. Her hands gripped onto his shoulder more for support. They were shaking, quivering, and quaking by his touch.
Every muscle of her’s contracted. Her stomach felt like two straight ropes begging for some give. She felt the blood in the back of her neck rise. And then suddenly she felt a flash of heat followed by a sudden wave of relaxation. Her back arched and the largest moan escaped her lips. She closed her eyes, feeling it start from the top of her head down to her toes. She panted, trying to catch her breath. The last of her brother’s twitches were inside of her and she leaned forward, gently resting her forehead against his.
He was a god. Kesi climbed off of her brother and laid on the floor, feet still flat and knees up. Her eyes were closed. She was still shaking, every inch of her trembling. She must have done it multiple times before that last one sent her truly over the edge.
With this euphoria, she laughed. Oh, this was great. Everything was great. But then came the problem Kesi faced every time she had sex with him. The pain. Her skin was raw, her body shaking, and she was certainly bruised. It hurt to move. But it was absolutely worth it.
She groaned as she sat up again. Her body screamed to remain laying down. Her legs were still numb, desperately not wanting to walk any time soon. Kesi gently grabbed her brother’s hand, kissing each of his fingertips. Her eyes were wide to him. “Would it bother you too much if you got the tea, Nem?” Kesi gave a small pout. She would ask a slave, but a slave shouldn’t see her in such a state. “Pretty please?” She breathed against his fingertips.
The desire within her would slip away soon, and the child would return. She would likely be confused, knowing what happened and presuming it was so amazing she forgot the details. But until the child truly replaced her, she would enjoy every second she had with Amenemhat. He was her God. He was a being that was worth this carnal worship. Kesi would do anything for him. Anything that he wanted she would provide.
Kesi would grow as a performer, sister, and lover. Anything for her God.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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With her gag gone Kesi’s moans could be heard once again, loud now that they were unmuffled, not that they were all that hidden before. But then once again his mouth found her’s, quieting her cries with his tongue.
Wham.
His forehead smacked against her’s and Kesi blinked daze, head moving back only for the grip to tighten in her hair. She couldn’t help but smirk at the retaliation, before once more getting lost in the moment. Faster and faster she went, getting more and more desperate. It wasn’t the moment to play anymore. Her hands gripped onto his shoulder more for support. They were shaking, quivering, and quaking by his touch.
Every muscle of her’s contracted. Her stomach felt like two straight ropes begging for some give. She felt the blood in the back of her neck rise. And then suddenly she felt a flash of heat followed by a sudden wave of relaxation. Her back arched and the largest moan escaped her lips. She closed her eyes, feeling it start from the top of her head down to her toes. She panted, trying to catch her breath. The last of her brother’s twitches were inside of her and she leaned forward, gently resting her forehead against his.
He was a god. Kesi climbed off of her brother and laid on the floor, feet still flat and knees up. Her eyes were closed. She was still shaking, every inch of her trembling. She must have done it multiple times before that last one sent her truly over the edge.
With this euphoria, she laughed. Oh, this was great. Everything was great. But then came the problem Kesi faced every time she had sex with him. The pain. Her skin was raw, her body shaking, and she was certainly bruised. It hurt to move. But it was absolutely worth it.
She groaned as she sat up again. Her body screamed to remain laying down. Her legs were still numb, desperately not wanting to walk any time soon. Kesi gently grabbed her brother’s hand, kissing each of his fingertips. Her eyes were wide to him. “Would it bother you too much if you got the tea, Nem?” Kesi gave a small pout. She would ask a slave, but a slave shouldn’t see her in such a state. “Pretty please?” She breathed against his fingertips.
The desire within her would slip away soon, and the child would return. She would likely be confused, knowing what happened and presuming it was so amazing she forgot the details. But until the child truly replaced her, she would enjoy every second she had with Amenemhat. He was her God. He was a being that was worth this carnal worship. Kesi would do anything for him. Anything that he wanted she would provide.
Kesi would grow as a performer, sister, and lover. Anything for her God.
With her gag gone Kesi’s moans could be heard once again, loud now that they were unmuffled, not that they were all that hidden before. But then once again his mouth found her’s, quieting her cries with his tongue.
Wham.
His forehead smacked against her’s and Kesi blinked daze, head moving back only for the grip to tighten in her hair. She couldn’t help but smirk at the retaliation, before once more getting lost in the moment. Faster and faster she went, getting more and more desperate. It wasn’t the moment to play anymore. Her hands gripped onto his shoulder more for support. They were shaking, quivering, and quaking by his touch.
Every muscle of her’s contracted. Her stomach felt like two straight ropes begging for some give. She felt the blood in the back of her neck rise. And then suddenly she felt a flash of heat followed by a sudden wave of relaxation. Her back arched and the largest moan escaped her lips. She closed her eyes, feeling it start from the top of her head down to her toes. She panted, trying to catch her breath. The last of her brother’s twitches were inside of her and she leaned forward, gently resting her forehead against his.
He was a god. Kesi climbed off of her brother and laid on the floor, feet still flat and knees up. Her eyes were closed. She was still shaking, every inch of her trembling. She must have done it multiple times before that last one sent her truly over the edge.
With this euphoria, she laughed. Oh, this was great. Everything was great. But then came the problem Kesi faced every time she had sex with him. The pain. Her skin was raw, her body shaking, and she was certainly bruised. It hurt to move. But it was absolutely worth it.
She groaned as she sat up again. Her body screamed to remain laying down. Her legs were still numb, desperately not wanting to walk any time soon. Kesi gently grabbed her brother’s hand, kissing each of his fingertips. Her eyes were wide to him. “Would it bother you too much if you got the tea, Nem?” Kesi gave a small pout. She would ask a slave, but a slave shouldn’t see her in such a state. “Pretty please?” She breathed against his fingertips.
The desire within her would slip away soon, and the child would return. She would likely be confused, knowing what happened and presuming it was so amazing she forgot the details. But until the child truly replaced her, she would enjoy every second she had with Amenemhat. He was her God. He was a being that was worth this carnal worship. Kesi would do anything for him. Anything that he wanted she would provide.
Kesi would grow as a performer, sister, and lover. Anything for her God.