You just lay on your chest, get comfortable, there's a plush pillow...it's purple..just on the chair's bed underneath, rest your arms and neck on that, and I'll get the charcoal pen to draw with Lerida winked and turned, moving to a yellow bookshelf, and one of tis many shelves, plucked a thin, defined pen. Erin reached down to grab the pillow, setting it on the chair, she untied her dress and lowered the halter to her waist so that her back was bare. She was missing a bra, but lowered herself onto the pillow before she flashed enough skin to draw the attention of the blue-haired artist. The chair was slender and blue, raised at the back so that it was perfect for comfortable rest.
The dress around her waist, arms hanging to the sides of the chair, she was comfortable, happy and let out a little sigh as she closed her eyes. The beer had been placed beneath her right hand in an attempt to tell herself she was going to drink from it. But she most likely would not. Erin rested there, on the chair, and closed her eyes ready for the hours of work to come. It was no secret that the small mad Englishwoman liked pain. When things did not go her way, the outback was usually her first destination. She was in that small group of women who loved to take a beating. But this time it was not pain that begot pain, but the desire to remember something-- the was still alive. Having been in Rhydin almost a year, she had many things happen to her: close to death experiences, beatings and fights, missing friends-- the reminder of her mortality but also her vitality seemed suddenly so important.
Lerida swayed in, chin high, she grinned at the girl, pencil in hand. ?Quietly, she approached the chair and slid onto the gray one, of the same stiff upholster, and slid it over without a squeak, and in a hushed voice spoke, You can wash the charcoal off after, just scrub a bit, try some rosewater and she smiled and arched her neck across the delicate, fine boned slope of Erinalle's back and shoulders. ??Lerida was patient, gentle and respectful, and paced the tip of the pen at the centre of Erin's spine, where the discs rolled beneath the flesh, and the slim waist and lower back gave way to her bottom. ?She admired it as a woman, and as a lover of women too, but not in a lewd, distasteful way. ?She only pondered on how she could compliment such a shape. This is the center of your piece, where I will sketch from.
Erin paused as the felt the press of the pen on her skin, and it caused her to smile. She rolled her shoulders once and was again relaxed and ready for the night. If I wanted it to wash off, I wouldn't be here. It was said in a hushed tone. The moment was not lost on Erin.? She understood love and admiration: expectation and desire.? She desiered the marking on her back as much as Lerida desired to put it there and that was how they were connected tonight-- perhaps forever.? The pencil was cold and she shuddered a little at the touch to her skin, but?she did not move again.? The nod to her last statement was almost nonexistant, and Erin let her breathing go deep and her thoughts run wild.? She hadn't thought of the reactions she would get to this-- this was something Erin was doing for herself.? A gift for her birthday.? A gift to help save her life.
In her element, intimacy and sensuousness, Lerida plowed. ?Her nostrils flared a bit, her chin bent just so, as she drew a line from the diametre towards Erin's right hand shoulder. ?She followed the artwork she had rested on the bench below the cabinets which held ink needles, bled rainbows in vials and pulpers, and and flasks and boxes of plastic gloves. ?Tonight, her hands were naked. ?Warm but not clammy, one rested on Erin's neck, the' V between forefinger and thumb spread across lightly.
Erin intook air sharply and smiled into the pillow rested on the chair. She let Lerida work without much of a word, her body reacting to the touch by getting warm, and nothing more.? Her face colored, but it was hidden and the burn in her hands and in her feet was also hidden from the woman.? Tingling from alcohol, Erin had never been more sure of anthing than she was of this decision.
I'm going to do the bones of the piece and then build the lines and sweeps of pattern to give that in flight, wheeling effect for you Lerida's smile could be heard. I like your bravery, Erin....You've always been a fighter Her voice was endangered, not afraid to crack with how softly she spoke.
I guess I'm tired of fighting.? It's time to rise up and away from the muck.? And Erin felt that maybe she finally was, flying out of the ruins of her life and into something more beautiful and pure.? I won't crash again.? And it was said with the firmness of Scarlette at Tara and the conviction of every woman scorned. She would no longer be the scared little girl she had played so well to this point. She would fight tooth and nail, perhaps to her death-- defiance was built into the woman. Power and care.
The rush of air as Lerida's fingers halted could be felt, as she listened carefully, You need to be your own heroineshe said simply, but not sagely, she said it in the voice of one her could relate. ?Erin thought on it a moment and without nodding, agreed. She would have to save herself of let herself die, but it was up to her and no one else. Changing, transforming--it was Erin, not Sebastian or Gideon or Chi or even Jordan who had to come sweep her out of her self created hell. And then Lerida's fingers tilted, knuckles grazing the girl's left shoulder as she began the very tip of the second wing
How far down will the tail feathers fall? ?To your tail bone or higher? Her gaze drifted down the back, the smooth pale skin, and to the place where the dress creased and crawled into a soft mess.
Perhaps just a little higher?? Erin thought, fingers opening and closing and then opening again as she anticipated the pain to come.? I think if only the feathers showed when my shirt rode up, it would look silly.? And she was worried about silly.? Without knowing she was moving, she stretched her back, just a little, and hopefully did not jostle the pen.
Erinalle. ?I can do this now. ?The charcoal is only to give you the outline, for you to see in the mirror before you go ahead. ?Otherwise, I'm fairly confident in being able to pull this outline, in ink, off for you tonight Silence began, punctuated only by the breathy percussion of the colourful beads that billowed softly side to side, clapping like a distant applause. ?Lerida placed her hand along the back of Erin's head in a caress, to soothe her, to settle her. ?A smile graced her mouth as she listened to the beads, and the soft, determined breaths of this artwork. Erin did not need the soothing, she was settled, but she saw it as an affection that she shared with the woman who was changing her, perhaps forever. The pen moved southwards and Leridia drew careful, elaborate lines to give flight to the bird.
I'll turn the mirror for you*quietly still, she moved from the chair and walked to the narrow mirror to the edge of the small room. ?She turned it around, smiling.
The finality of the decision was already made. I want it done.? And she did.? There was a smile and she rolled her shoulders once.? Mark it on me.?
