gammeme | Test Drive Meme #2

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Test Drive Meme #2

You wake up in a closet. It's a nice enough one, clearly owned by someone with a large bedroom and too many clothes. There's a dim light on but no switch to make it brighter. As your eyes adjust and you come to the realization that this is probably not a dream, you notice you aren't alone. Locked in the closet with you is (at least) one other person who seems just as confused and disoriented as yourself.

On the door, you can both see a list with a possibly familiar title and a familiar set of rules; Seven Minutes In Heaven. The door will be locked for a probably very long seven minutes and it will not open no matter how much you try to force it. In the closet air is a hefty dose of aphrodisiacs that might be clouding your normal judgement. The longer you wait, the more you want to give in to the game.

Will they really let you out when the seven minutes are done? Or will the countdown start all over again until you consent? Only waiting will tell.

EDIT: Aphrodisiacs are OPTIONAL, not required. Also feel free to make your own scenarios, themes are merely for those wanting an idea.

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Why do I get the feeling you're lying? Oh, right, because you are.

[He was wise to you, Nat. But he scoffed at the mention of groceries, almost afraid to ever look in her kitchen.]

Who, me?

[And her kitchen isn't in question right now. Honestly, it's mostly empty considering she was never home save for some non-perishables. Something told her her kitchen here would probably be close to the same.

Almost as if on cue, his tablet lights up. She doesn't miss a beat passing it over to him.]

[His look was answer enough. Yes, Natasha. You.

But the tablet blipped and he gave her a stern look before going over to the door, opening it and paying for her 'groceries' before accepting them and closing and locking the door and lifting the bag at her.]

Your refreshments.

First there was the sound of clinking metal. That got Orihime's attention first as she slowly came back to her senses. Something was clinking. A machine?

A robot?!

No, not a robot, she chided herself, wincing as she pushed herself groggily up to her feet. Just because this place was filled with robots didn't automatically mean they were going to be at the root of every problem. ~~More's the pity.~~ She grabbed a fistful of cloth, pushing aside a pair of thick winter coats, only to find herself face to face, openly staring, at a knight.

A knight.

A real knight.

What else could he be? He wore the armor, the tabard, and there was definitely a noble sort of air to the way he held himself. She blinked, taken aback, and for a long while she said nothing. Then she straightened, hands drifting back to her sides. 'Strange,' he'd said. She couldn't agree more. What should she say? What would be the best way of eliminating the surprise and discomfort of their unexpected meeting?

"...Which way to the beach? Ha ha!"

Well, she thought it was funny, anyway.

Chloe just kept slipping the little beads in, one at a time while her fingers worked. It was steady, and she was enjoying taking her time, working to overwhelm her one sensation at a time. She giggled as she did it, lips running all along her neck. "I know you were a lot more of a bookworm," she whispered. "That much I remember, because your body was so different from what you actually were. A chance to be someone else. And in this place? A delightful little shield for your heart. What was happening was happening to Alkaid. Not you."

And then she leaned up just enough so that her face was barely visible in the contours, there in the dark. "Except I know it's you, Chika. Does that change things a little?"

[OOC: If you want a non-closet scene, or something written out in brackets, go for it! I'm game.]

Face flushed, Orihime just...put the list of rules back on the wall, and gave it a quick smoothing with her hand before backing away. So this was one of those experiments that Chloe had warned her about. She supposed just kissing someone wasn't so bad, but even that was a pretty big step for her. She'd never kissed anyone before, and when given the one chance to kiss the person she loved, she'd pulled back.

What if she was a terrible kisser? What if she drooled, or accidentally bashed in someone's nose?! She felt as if she should apologize pre-emptively to whoever else was in here with her.

Was that person even awake yet? Or had they already seen the sign and retreated to some dimly lit corner to wait for Orihime to find them? Personally, she hoped it was the latter, just in case this other person had a bad temper and wanted to attack the door. Carefully she brushed aside some of the clothes, trying to make her way through the cramped closet. "Hello?" She could feel the spiritual presence of someone very close by.

And if the person wasn't careful, then she was likely to literally trip over them.

Alright, so... Where was he, now? Where was he? Certainly not anywhere inside the Seireitei, he could feel that much, for he could not sense any of the reishi that made up the damned Soul Society--- that he would rule one day, naturally, of that he was also certain. He grimaced slightly as he awoke, his head throbbing something terrible-- as if someone had actually gotten the drop on him, for once... Not that that was very likely, after all; he was Aizen Sousuke, bi-yatch!

Of course, he was still not certain just what had happened to him, and thus: he opened his eyes slowly, and reached out for his glasses, which were, strangely enough, still on his face, more or less. They did need minor adjustments, of course, given the way he'd been laying, but still... He was not blind, at least!

He did know one thing, at least, as soon as he opened his eyes: he was in an Earthly closet. With-- lots and LOTS of clothing, all around him! He grimaced slightly, as he pushed aside a row of dresses over his head, in order to sit up, and then, of course, grinned as soon as he saw a-- somewhat familiar face, at least. The girl who had befriended Rukia, wasn't this? The redhead? She was rather pretty, at least, and so... When his newly adjusted glasses landed upon the sign upon the door, well... He couldn't help but grin to himself, looking-- almost coy. He then turned the smile upon her, with his trademarked Winning Smile™, that had won him both the cover and the mid-year slots within the last three years' Shinigami calendars...

[[Let me know if this doesn't work for you, darling... I can fix whatever is wrong with this set-up! ; ) ♥]]

[OOC: Set up works fine! But if you wanted concrit, let me know, since I try not to give it out uninvited. :D]

It seemed Aizen spotted Orihime before she saw him, for in that brief span of seconds, her complexion was normal, and her stance was fairly relaxed. But the moment their gazes met, everything changed. Her eyes widened, and the color drained from her face. It had nothing to do with the thought of kissing this man; the rules of the closet had completely fled her mind the moment she realized who was lying in front of her.

She took a step back.

Why was he smiling like that? Why had he donned his captain's coat again...? Her hand came to rest over her mouth as her brow furrowed and her mind raced almost as fast as her pulse. He was dangerous, capable of crushing her in an instant if he so desired. When last they parted, he'd made it clear that her life no longer held any value to him. He'd left her to die, unprotected against the denizens of Hueco Mundo.

But he looked just as he had before unveiling himself as a traitor to Soul Society. What was going on? Was it possible that he'd been pulled her from a different point of time? Orihime swallowed past the lump in her throat, venturing ignorance.

"Who are you...? A shinigami?"

Depending on his response, she would know if she had to fight, or play dumb. She hoped for the latter, because she didn't stand a chance against his power.

Ah, so this girl knew of Shinigami, did she? Well, well, well... This girl just became even more intriguing to him! He smiled a little wider, until, that was, he noticed her sudden coldness towards him. Was she-- afraid of him, for some strange reason? He didn't even KNOW her, did he? Or... Did he? Did he, in fact, know her-- in the Future, perhaps? He readjusted his smile to something far more-- gentle, more reassuring, even as he quirked a curious eyebrow up at her question. "Why; why my dear girl, why do you know of Shinigami?" She was not dead, certainly; she was as solid as Aizen himself, inside his Soul Candy body...

Orihime hesitated. It was a dangerous game, trying to figure out how much he knew, while he surely did the same. If he had indeed been pulled from the same point in time as she was, and had donned this old guise to better fit in with the others, then the game was up. He could easily kill her if he thought she might risk exposing his true colors.

On the other hand, he really might not have recognized her. She could only hope that was the case. ...Now she just had to figure out how to answer his question without revealing herself.

"Ah...I met one once. I wasn't supposed to, so he showed me some sort of candy dispenser. I think he wanted to erase my memory, but it didn't work so well." She smiled awkwardly, nervously. That much, at least, wasn't a lie. "I was afraid you might try to do the same."

"Ahh... I see... Yes, I see...." Aizen chuckled softly as she explained herself, her very obviously nervous nerves around him... "No, no, my dear girl; I shan't do anything of the kind to you." He smiled again upon her, reassuringly, gently, almost as if he had some hope of charming this young woman into "bed"-- or at least, under the damned dresses inside this God-forsaken (ha; as if the entire earth were not so God-forsaken!) closet... He then thought better of smiling, even though she really was a pretty girl, but still-- he was supposed to be a Shinigami, an utterly sexless being, after all, and thus: he shouldn't really be smiling at the thought of being trapped in a closet with this pretty young woman for "Seven Minutes of "Heaven"", even if it was supposed to be Heaven! Not his version of Heaven, at least-- though of course, in reality, he really was so desperate to get into this young woman's panties, to explore what else was... unique about her, other than her apparent knowledge of Shinigami.

He grimaced apologetically instead, as he considered the damned sign upon the door. "So.... Seven Minutes in Heaven, eh? I mean-- not that I don't know Heaven intimately, already, of course..." He forced a small, nervous laugh of his own, still play-acting, naturally enough.

She whimpered as she felt the beads disappeared into her, one by one. Squirming and grinding against her without even really thinking about it as they continued to get pushed inside of her. It was different from that first go. The person almost seemed to be taking her time. Was it something she had said or done...or was this normal? Regardless, it was hard to hold a conversation while this was happening. which made it all the easier for Chloe's words to continue infecting her.

And dispelling thoughts she had the moment before. She tried to make out her face in the darkness, but she simply could not do so. Not entirely. What she saw though...it fit. This. It fit all this.

"S-so...what if it...did?" She stammered, trying not to think about it. She wasn't about to let her take a good idea and spoil it. Ruin it. Twist it around and turn it on her.

boop

That his state of confusion had clouded his senses was proven when Percival pulled up tight at her voice. How had he not noticed that there was someone in here with him. Percival was careful when he moved this time. Aware that his size made this a small space for him, it certainly did her no favors either he was sure.

She sounded as if she was joking and as his eyes lit upon the chestnut haired beauty his head titled. Percival looked at her in confusion for many a moment as he wondered exactly what she meant.

"I don't know what you mean, My Lady." He shifted, pushed clothing from his way to get a better view. A coat snagged on his sword and the Knight had to glance away from her and down to it to free the weapon without drawing it.

"You're a fabulous flirt," Gabe states, and it's with all the sarcasm and snark he inherits from his mom. Flirting is nice, though. That is what they're doing, he assumes--flirting.

He's a lot better than his sister and her boyfriend, that's for damn sure. The girl is, too. In a way, Gabe doesn't want to know her name. That's too personal, he'd rather enjoy his new found freedom. Irony doesn't escape him, seeing as his version of 'free' is being trapped in a closet.

Part of him, though, still wants to get at her. Dig deeper, and not just at a level like this, his hands on her hips and faces close. He wants to know why she knows. Why she's in the room with him to start with.

Gabe pushes. Not physically, never physically, but mentally: he's always pushed buttons, forced people out of their comfort zones if need be. Always. Nothing in that aspect has changed as he guides her hips, backing her up until they hit a wall. Gabe doesn't grin, but he smirks instead, and one hand moves from her hip to move up her arm, ghosting over it, and moving to her neck where lifts her chin gently with his fingers.

"Is seven minutes with me really going to kill you?"

Allie watches him closely, shrewdly wary. For someone who claims to be eighteen, he's surprisingly confident, almost making her feel like the junior in this situation. And heaven help her, the blasted chip in her neck amplifies the effects of his touch. Her heart thumps a little faster, and her breathing seems loud in her ears. She'd like to claim that he doesn't stimulate her senses in the slightest, but it's laughably untrue.

She clears her throat, unwilling to look away from his face lest he somehow think she was submitting to him. She almost digs in her feet out of sheer stubbornness as he guides her up against the wall.

"Never claimed that," she grumbles, her skin warming to the slow gliding touch of his hand. Allie places her palms on his broad shoulders, and it becomes clear in that instant just how awkward she is at expressing intimacy and affection. She's stiff, almost clumsy. Allie never claimed to be a good kisser, and she's half-dreading the eventual remarks indicating as much. Gabe, on the other hand, seems to be liquid charm, and she has no idea how to handle him.

Attempting to wrest at least some control of her situation into her own hands, she pushes her head forward, almost crushing her lips against his. There's no passion, no sentiment. It's mechanical in nature, intended to shut down any forthcoming jeers and to start the clock. The sooner she's out of here, the sooner she can throttle the person responsible for her being here in the first place.

Edited 2015-08-25 13:38 (UTC)

"Ha ha, that's a relief...!" She didn't know if she could keep this up. By now she knew there was no real warmth or humor in that false smile of his. He wore it as a mask, just one more tool to manipulate people into behaving the way he wanted for the sake of his plans.

Orihime stiffened, attention called back to the sign on the door. Her head whipped around to stare at the sign, and the dread was nearly overwhelming. Was this really the only way out? She would rather starve to death!

But if she refused, he would be suspicious, and her true feelings would be bared. She knew it was a simple matter. They had to do little more than keep their lips pressed together for seven minutes. But the idea of kissing the man who had tried to destroy her home and all of her friends, the man who had tried to strike down the person she loved most, was completely revolting. Goosebumps prickled over her arms and legs. What if he wanted more than that?

What if the chip made her want it too?

"It's...it's a childish game!" she laughed, trying to hide her unease as shyness and embarrassment. "It isn't really how I thought my first kiss would go, to be honest."

To say the least.

"Ah...it was just a joke..." Curses! Had her sense of humor really grown so rusty? Awkwardly she rubbed the back of her neck, trying to think of something else to say, when she noticed he was having a difficult time in the cramped closet. That was understandable, given how big he was.

"Here, I've got it," she offered, pushing the offending skirts and coats aside to free up the handle and pommel of his weapon. It was a splendid sword, that much was clear even if he hadn't drawn the sword from its scabbard.

Much as Orihime would have liked to give him his personal space, there wasn't really anywhere else for her to go. She bowed slightly, as much as the closet would allow. "I'm Orihime Inoue. It's nice to meet you."

"It would mean I'm screwing you. Not your character. Whatever body you're wearing," she whispered in a sultry way as she started to tug lightly at the beads, twist them, tease at her anus with practiced ease using one of the larger ones. Her fingers worked more quickly now, building her up while she kept her lips up close to Alkaid's, breathing on them but not quite kissing.

Of course, she was planning to stop just short. She wanted Alkaid overwhelmed, to the breaking point in here, so lost in pleasure, begging for release that she didn't even think of escape. If she could get her to the point of unconsciousness, perfect. She'd just steal her card, dress her, and haul her to an apartment of her choice before booking her there for the next month with her stipend.

"They can have Alkaid. I get Chika...."

She jerked and twisted in spot when she felt hose beads get tugged on, a different sensation than when they were filling her ass one by one, each larger than the last. They didn't come quite back out, but she could feel it tugging, twisting about, playing with her. There were already so many things wrong about all of this, and if she wasn't all twisted up in sensation, she would have been boggled and mind blown from the sheer confusion and what factor.

Her lips were perpetually parted now, panting against the lips she could feel just in front of her. Taunting her. It was hard to even focus on talking, especially when her words were quickly dissolving into whines as she felt herself starting to edge over again.

'But what if I don't want to be Chika.' She wanted to say. To yell. To cry out.

"Buh...whaah...aah...d-don't...aaaah!" Is what came out instead, voice hitching more and more with each moment. She was really going to do this? Come again?

Kat certainly was beginning to understand what she meant by 'builds up'. She felt heavy and at the same time hot and restless. There really wasn't any subtle way to hide how hot she felt, running her fingers through ragged locks again and fanning herself.

"And they just... do this to people?" That might not be a real question, unfortunately. She's already grasped the situation. It was a matter of time before the inevitable kicked in, as Chloe said. The sad part was? If they were drugged as she said and supposed to do as she said - why was she expected to do this with another woman, of all people? Not that she was against that sort of thing but she generally had never stopped to think about relationships in terms of flirting or sexual in nature. She was so focused on her work and yet that didn't mean she didn't feel close to Vergil or Dante.

This was so confusing.

And yet she didn't want to find herself giving in so easily either.

Edited 2015-08-26 18:12 (UTC)

She could see it. The girl could see clearly in the dark and she could see the changes in Kat's demeanor, the way that her body reacted. The familiarity of it all was both awful and terrible, and a little fun to watch. "They just do this to people," she said, her own voice getting a bit breathy now. She shifted a leg and let out a small groan. The way that the fabric touched her was adding to sensation, making her eyes roll back and breath catch.

"It... feels like poppers a little," she whispered. "They want us touching each other faster, I guess. My skin is starting to feel like it's on fire. How about yours?" She bit her lip, and instead of fanning herself, a hand was slipping into her bodysuit.

"I... might have an idea. One that won't involve me putting things inside you."

Chloe wasn't about to let her. The fingers on the beads slowed their motion and roll, working them only enough to keep her right at the edge, holding still when necessary. She had every intention of keeping this up until Alkaid was little more than an unconscious mess, after all. And that errant thought of hers? Well... she wasn't inclined to let her have that today.

"You're going to have to speak up," she whispered while her lips pressed to the girl's throat, pulling and tugging at the fabric with her teeth again, enough to give her stars...

and block any comment she happened to be thinking.

"You don't seem all that bothered by this..." Kat whispers, not wanting to admit that was how she felt too. It was worse given just how much skin she actually had exposed. She felt hot and yet the floor was slightly cold to the touch against her naked thighs. Her shorts didn't help matters. Why did her clothes feel so constricting?

"You're crazy." she answers back to Chloe's suggestion, a tartness in her tone despite how out of touch with herself she clearly was.

All she knew was happening was that she was getting stuck. Stuck on the verge of only her second orgasm at the hands of another. And she wasn't sure why, or how. Only that it was one of the most brutal things she could say she felt. It quickly became the only thing on her mind, until Chloe started to do that thing again with her collar. It took little for her to start writhing, bucking against her, and shaking her head limply.

Between that and being on this perpetual edge, she didn't have a voice to speak with, or a mind to put the words together without them coming out melted and messed up.

"P-please..." She groaned out, closing her eyes tight as she struggled so meekly against her.

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Page 8 of 9

Test Drive Meme #2

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Orihime Inoue | Bleach | F/M for ships, OTA otherwise

alright, Orihime... Here's a bloody UNDERUTILISED Aizen, for you... ;) ♥

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