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When you’re in the spell, you’re burning in my fire. Do you smell the incense burning? Consuming your lust…
On a crisp Winter’s evening, Ariadne began her stroll. Shrouded in a flowing crimson robe, the way she carried her mystique could be considered unnerving and yet alluring. Her jet black hair danced with the shadows of the night and carried the scent of nightflowers and smoke.
Underneath her hooded cloak, she wore a black leather corset top and matching leather skirt; accentuating her slender figure. A collection of small vials could be seen; secured to the loops on her belt. Her toned legs adorned in sensual, sheer nearly black nylons emitted a faint hiss-hiss as her thighs rubbed together. The pitter-patter of her tall leather boots echoed along the cold, damp pavement. She turned the knob to enter a dimly lit pub; its ornate, hand-painted wooden sign read ‘The Trinity’. The door made a slight crackle as it creaked open; thirsty for some lubricant.
“One pint of Viscount Nelson Pale Ale please,” Ariadne unhooded herself as she ordered with the bartender. It was then that Otto overheard and took his shot; urged on by his liquid courage and his rowdy company. “I’ll get this one for the be-beautiful lady,” he slurred slightly. “Why, thank you. I’m Ariadne,” she introduced herself to the sheepish man slouched in front of her and offered her hand. Its aroma filled the air and captured his attention.
“That’s such a pretty name. I’m Otto. What brings you around ‘ere and wearin’ that?”
“Hah, you’re sweet. Just hoping to get a drink before going to a gathering. Just easing into the evening as they say,” Ariadne replied casually. She undid the clasp of her cloak and it slid off her shoulders with a minimal shrug. She then folded it neatly and sat herself at one of the corner booths. Not before attracting the attention of the patrons of The Trinity, as her dress was uncommon to an establishment usually frequented by casual afterhours blue-collar drinkers and the occasional banker. Otto’s hazy eyes were drawn to Ariadne’s slender yet muscular legs and the hint of nylon on show peeking out from her leather boots. The hiss as her crossed her left leg over seemed to trigger a primal node as he subconsciously licked his top lip. Another hiss, as Ariadne rocked her left foot whilst making circles in a little orbit.
“Hmm. He’ll do… This is probably gonna be the one,” Ariadne pondered whilst sipping on her pale ale. “May I join you then?” Otto assumed the answer as he slid into the booth opposite Ariadne.
“So what do you do for a living?”
“I’m a sparky. An electrician. It’s not much but it pays the bills,” Otto replied humbly. “How about yourself?”
“I dabble in a bit of everything to be honest. Keeps things interesting.”
“I am sure you do. You seem like an interesting lady.”
“I’ve got something a little stronger, if you’re keen on trying,” Ariadne poured an amber liquid from one of her vials into the Otto’s coupe and poured the remainder of the vial for herself whilst giving him a cheeky wink. “Cheers!” He was eager to please as he downed the mysterious liquor without hesitancy. She smiled as she took a sip and gestured in his general direction, her foot inched closer to his side of the table.
“Oops. Sorry about that,” she whispered as she pressed her foot gently against the side of his calf, brushing his trousers up as her foot continued to meander up his leg. The soft leather of her boot then made contact with his inner thigh and up to his nether region. “That… That’s quite alright.” A small bulge began to form in Otto’s trousers as he grasped the edge of the table to stabilise himself; he felt the warmth of the air vibrating against his face and he felt his body grow sensitive to every lingering sensation. Her foot made the journey down his left leg and lingered for a moment on his calf before landing innocently back on solid ground.
“Desiderium liquoris, it’s an acquired taste but makes you think about the world in a different way.” Ariadne drummed her fingers on the wooden table of the booth and the sound echoed in a hollow and unwavering rhythm in Otto’s ears whilst it oscillated. “Gosh, I’ve never tasted anything like it. It’s darn… It’s darn de-delicious. You make a hell of a drink, Ariadne.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Ariadne chuckled and thought to herself.
“We should take this somewhere a tad more private. I have more drinks and other things I’d like to show you,” she suggested and Otto seemed keen and agreed to her proposal. With that, she rose and placed her hand on his and rubbed it gently and pulled him along.
The fashion mismatched couple made their way out of the pub as Otto’s friends cheered him on as if he’s bagged himself the “catch of the day” so to speak. The scent of her fragrance dragged him along as they made their way down the winding cobblestone streets and through a maze of laneways and alleys. They wound up in front of an old stone building with a large, rounded walnut door that possessed a heart-shaped keyhole on its brushed steel lock.
“Atrakinti Ordo Luxuriate malonumas,” Ariadne uttered. The lock hummed faintly and clicked. Ariadne turned the knob and the door creaked open to reveal a spacious hall, its walls adorned with tapestries depicting figures in erotic positions and paintings of naked women encased in nylon but also adorned in ceremonial garb. The air hummed with a subtle energy as the couple traversed the carpet lined corridors which were lit by glowing orbs of intricately etched glass.
“Woah. Your digs are outta this world. Where the heck are we exactly?”
“You’ll find out in good time, Otto,” Ariadne replied as she pulled him along.
They made their way to a large chamber surrounded by ancient tomes bound in leather. All of which were illuminated by the flickering flame of countless candles that surrounded the space. In its centre, a majestic altar of smooth obsidian that subtly dips to create a shallow bowl enough to swallow a grown man. A scented censer was responsible for the fragrant smoke emitted into the room; its Sandalwood wisps danced playful around the collection of dried herbs and flowers from the rafters above.
Ariadne’s slender body encircled Otto and drew him in for a passionate kiss as she snaked her tongue and darted it against his teeth and then entangled his. She started to unbutton Otto’s shirt and Otto’s jeans started to unbutton themselves quicker than he could say: “What sorcery?”
“Hunc serico liga,” Ariadne began to utter as she gave him an assured shove that sent him unto the altar… With a simple gesture and an brief incantation, tendrils of silk and nylon appeared from the crevasses of the obsidian altar. The circle surrounding the altar which was etched with vermillion runes began to hum with a subtle glow as the tendrils started their journey towards Otto’s toned, naked body.
He didn’t try to fight it. Enraptured by the hold of the sandalwood incense and the ‘desiderium liquoris’, the silk actually had the effect of arousing him as it slid and encircled his wrists to complete their journey and self-tie into neat knots. “I’m one of the few remaining disciples of Ordo Luxuriate,” Ariadne explained as she encircled the altar. “We pride ourselves on being able to extract mana from the “passions” and “ecstasy” of men. There’s “power in the climax” as my sister used to say,” she proceeded to divulge. “You’re in our grand ceremonial cavern as our honoured guest and will witness first-hand how we create this mana.”
“When I said a dabble in a bit of everything, I wasn’t exaggerating, Otto,” Ariadne boasted confidently whilst ensuring that the bindings of crimson, white and black silken ties are secure around his wrists and ankles. A force of habit of course as Ariadne’s powers needed but to speak for itself. Otto started to grow nervous and uncertain about his situation. She kept him under by slowly kissing his neck whilst cupping the nape and reached into his boxers and gently and slowly edged his cock. She slid one of her legs unto the altar and encouraged him to explore her thigh. Explored he did as he rubbed and traced his fingers along it; slowly feeling more and more mesmerised by the smoothness and the softness of the fabric with just a hint of electricity to keep him engaged.
“I am sorry, dear Otto, your path to release may not be as soon or as straightforward as you anticipated as I am not what you would call, hmm, a ‘woman of the night’. Though I probably am in a way,” Ariadne jested to herself. “But if you lean into it, you may grow to enjoy the process and develop a deeper appreciation for nylon and its power.”
She started by taking off her crimson cloak and undoing the clasps of her leather boots and pulled her stockinged feet out of them gracefully. Otto couldn’t help but arch against his constraints to sneak a peek at her delicate feet in nylon; already hooked on the sample sensation he got from Ariadne’s thigh earlier. She then unhooked her leather skirt from the back and let it fall to the stone floor. Clad only in her corset and her dark stockings, she made her way towards the altar with a round bottle in her hand with a silver falcon as its stopper.
With a subtle, extended incantation, ethereal limbs started to manifest out of thin air. Limbs seemingly made of air itself but aglow with a subtle golden hue that shone on the gossamer matte fabric; phantom hands of soft, black nylon. The glowing limbs started to make their way towards Otto’s naked torso and tease his exposed nipples. He gasped in response; in awe of the pleasure and entranced by its waves whilst his cock engorged and tented against his underwear as if it’s about to break free of its cotton prison. The ‘fingers’ of these hands assault every inch of his body and drew circles around his nipples. “Feel the tingle of the nylon all over your body. Doesn’t it awaken your senses and consume your desire? Give in to it and let’s begin our exploration of your body,” Ariadne cooed. Otto’s moans were soft but almost bestial as he felt Ariadne’s hands, seemingly encased in a pair of sheer nude hold-up stockings like fingerless gloves, run their course over his hard member as she alternated stroking him gently and loosely with her left and then her right hand; creating waves of nylon pleasure as they went up his dragon.
These waves began to manifest and streamed out of Otto’s mouth as fragments of purple mana as the nylon assault progressed and further enraptured his physical and psychological dragon; always thirsting and chasing the sensation of the hypnotic, gossamer fabric. Ariadne pulled the falcon stopper off the bottle and whispered: “Capere eam.” This had the effect of directing the river of purple into the round glass bottle; it swirled around restlessly around as it collected in the well of the bottle. The nylon hands of light caressed his face and his neck to further enhance the climax and slid into his mouth so he could feel the delicious tactility on his tongue.
“Not yet, you don’t! Not until I say so,” Ariadne nodded at the bottle which wasn’t even half full at this point.
Desperate for release, Otto’s ecstasy reached an orgasmic pinnacle as the edging continued. To prevent him from getting too close to the precipice, Ariadne slowed the pace of her stroking until she reached an eventual stop. The phantom hands also ceased when she did and the sounded of Otto’s heavy panting was the only thing defiling the silence of the great chamber.
“Please, Ariadne. I need more. Don’t… Don’t stop!” She responded by climbing unto the altar and gripped his member with her feet and began to rhythmically stroke. Her dark stockinged feet occasionally stopped at the head of his cock to give it a tease as she drew circles around it and rubbed his balls with her other foot. Sensing that Otto was at the edge again, she stopped abruptly and her feet flew away like nyloned shadows.
The hands of light then began to double-grip Otto’s member and started to pump. She then returned her foot to his balls and resumed teasing with eclectic motions. The mana flooded out of Otto’s mouth in small bursts and filled the bottle to a little more than half; a nylon witch’s work is never done. A small grin appeared on her face as she noticed his apparent frustration and desperation.
Sensing that her attendee is now primed and ready, she lowered herself unto him.
“Gosh, he’s the biggest this week!” Ariadne thought.
Adjusting herself into position, she started to gyrate and use her “muscle” to put pressure on her subject’s already aching member. Faster and faster, he started to feel fuller and fuller inside her; that didn’t seem possible to her. She could feel the warmth of his mana emanating from within as all sisters of the order are trained to do. She started to decrease this gyration and commanded the hands to focus on his nipples as her own nyloned hands focused on his stomach and the small of his back. Otto arched his back and grunted and panted in animalic ecstasy as he once again reached the precipice. He felt himself slip deeper and deeper into a nylon trance; hopelessly addicted to the sensation that only the fabric can provide.
Ariadne propped herself up and then lifted herself off Otto and elegantly dismounted from the altar. This left him being edged by the phantom hands as one of the hands stroked him whilst the other massaged his balls in a soft grip. Hovering over him, she gave her guest a soft kiss and not being able to control herself, drank in some of the mana flowing from his parched lips. “Oops, I should have probably let that go into bottle lest I have to extend your edging further. Or this that what you’d like?”
“I don’t even know anymore… It… It all feels so good!”
“You know, I know exactly what you mean. That’s only fair, many people seem to have this dilemma once they’ve experienced true nylon pleasure.”
“Feel that longing?” she whispered as she stroked his face and traced circles around his sensitive nipples. “Feel how every brush, every moment of contact makes your desires build? It’s like a thread, strung taut, ready to snap at any moment. But you don’t want to let go. Because it feels so good…”
Otto groaned, still deeply submerged in his haze of silken ecstasy. “I feel it… I need more.”
She willed the phantom hands over to provide nylon pleasure over his chest and nipples and went down on his cock in one decisive movement. She drank in his salty fluid and licked her lips in satisfaction. Bobbing up and down his shaft, she teased out every bit of sensual aura in him as she went and focused on the areas of his cock that were the most sensitive.
His mana gushed into the bottle; renewed by this new sensation from Ariadne. She quickened her rhythm as Otto’s moans grew louder and the phantom hands supported Ariadne by teasing his balls and massaging them at the same pace as her motion.
The mana bottle was then filled to the brim; the purple glow oozed out of the bottle and began to cover the stone floor. Finally satisfied, Ariadne was happy to give Otto his greatest climax, his release, his satisfaction. She let him go over the edge and felt the immense pressure of his cum as it flooded out of his dragon and hit the back of her mouth. Ariadne drank him dry of every single drop of this essence and swallowed her own fill; mimicking her bottle. The falcon stopper went back on the bottle to prevent any mana from escaping but not before Ariadne licked the outer walls of the bottle clean. She felt immensely reinvigorated from his pleasure.
Licking her lips, Ariadne cleaned up after herself with a cloth from a side-table and wiped Otto’s now limp member clean as well. She put her sweaty stockinged feet back into her boots and casually walked out of the ritual chamber. “I’m sure you’re in good hands. Night.”
–
Otto woke up on a park bench near a misty lake. He stared at his reflection in the stillness of the water, shook himself off and thought about the events of the night; not really sure what transpired or if it happened at all.
A falcon flew near the surface of the lake and for a brief moment, the surface of the water shimmered purple.
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