There's a lot of ritual to be had with the Setites. Birdie isn't generally invited to the more serious inner workings when they happen, despite her favored friend status and nights spent at the Wadjet. Those are the ones that are brought in fully, converted or Sired into the clan or sect or however you'd like to slice it. Those are for the ones with Faith, capital F, in a way Birdie doesn't imagine herself capable of despite it all.
She does, however, have a standing invitation to all the others that are less ritual and more excuse to engage in vice and revelry. And, maybe, blood beer, depending on the brewing time of the current batches.
[ something something she gets invited to an orgy with ouija ]
The rooms are lush. Every surface is soft, the colors rich and vibrant from the rugs to the pillows that are strewn on every piece of furniture and all over the floor.
[ something something setup blah blah ]
When Ouija finds her again in the tangle of limbs and pillows and noise, she's on her back splayed over a chaise lounge, one person thrusting into her as she works someone else beside her with her fingers. Her braids are a half-done mess by this point, and who knows where her dress has ended up. All that's left on her is jewelry, with one earring missing. Probably underneath another group somewhere. They watch as writhes and smiles and moans into a kiss, two, three.
Then Birdie's voice is at their ear, keening, "Come here, I miss you," and what choice do they have?
They make their way over, tiptoeing gingerly over configurations in twos and fives, and she smiles up at them like she's the most delighted creature on earth just to see them.
"You came!" She reaches up with her free hand to cup the side of Ouija's face once they're in range, hums happily when they maneuver and lift her shoulders to situate themselves at her back, propping her up to see all that thrusting going on.
"Three times so far, actually." They kiss her cheek, then her mouth when she laughs, their hands at her breasts.
Birdie moans, her hand scrabbling behind her and into their hair when they roll one of her nipples between thumb and forefinger. She moans again when her hand is pulled away from her work and the woman at her side moves to straddle her stomach to face the thruster and she pulls Birdie's hand around her waist to reposition it to continue.
She watches as the others kiss, and strains to turn her head to Ouija as best she can in their current position. "Sit on my face," said with a desperate kind of whine to it. "I want to feel you on my mouth for four and five."
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wip - orgy - for ~terrifies
She does, however, have a standing invitation to all the others that are less ritual and more excuse to engage in vice and revelry. And, maybe, blood beer, depending on the brewing time of the current batches.
[ something something she gets invited to an orgy with ouija ]
The rooms are lush. Every surface is soft, the colors rich and vibrant from the rugs to the pillows that are strewn on every piece of furniture and all over the floor.
[ something something setup blah blah ]
When Ouija finds her again in the tangle of limbs and pillows and noise, she's on her back splayed over a chaise lounge, one person thrusting into her as she works someone else beside her with her fingers. Her braids are a half-done mess by this point, and who knows where her dress has ended up. All that's left on her is jewelry, with one earring missing. Probably underneath another group somewhere. They watch as writhes and smiles and moans into a kiss, two, three.
Then Birdie's voice is at their ear, keening, "Come here, I miss you," and what choice do they have?
They make their way over, tiptoeing gingerly over configurations in twos and fives, and she smiles up at them like she's the most delighted creature on earth just to see them.
"You came!" She reaches up with her free hand to cup the side of Ouija's face once they're in range, hums happily when they maneuver and lift her shoulders to situate themselves at her back, propping her up to see all that thrusting going on.
"Three times so far, actually." They kiss her cheek, then her mouth when she laughs, their hands at her breasts.
Birdie moans, her hand scrabbling behind her and into their hair when they roll one of her nipples between thumb and forefinger. She moans again when her hand is pulled away from her work and the woman at her side moves to straddle her stomach to face the thruster and she pulls Birdie's hand around her waist to reposition it to continue.
She watches as the others kiss, and strains to turn her head to Ouija as best she can in their current position. "Sit on my face," said with a desperate kind of whine to it. "I want to feel you on my mouth for four and five."