Demetra Lakewoods (ENG)

Tentacles

Demetra closed the large book in front of her with a thud that echoed among the walls of her large study. She closed her eyes and let go against the back of the leather chair adorned with delicate carvings, another legacy of the Lakewoods inheritance. Massaging the bridge of her nose, she sighed deeply.
"...It's over."
The tired voice was reduced to an exhausted whisper as Demetra thought back over the past month. Who could imagine that managing the affairs of the old family manor could be so complex? Not to mention relations with the village: The Lakewoods had not enjoyed a particularly renowned name for a few decades now, and she had stubbornly resolved to set things right.

Thoughts kept swirling in her head as she sat with her eyes closed. Weariness made its way through her body as the images in her mind became more and more indistinct. One memory, however, resurfaced regularly.
Almost allowing herself to be carried away by that feeling, she headed toward the library, and her steps led her confidently to the shelf devoted to interplanar evocations. Long ago now, her sisters had shown her, in between giggles, an old tome with an almost indecipherable, yellowed leather cover. Demetra had not, at the time, understood the reason for such hilarity and mischief, but something was pulling her toward it. She ran a finger over the ribs of books neatly arranged on the shelf until she stopped confidently on one of them. She gently pulled it out, causing the dust that covered it to float to the floor.

The title was ruined and written in a now-dead language, but the little that read suggested an idea of its contents: Codex... constraints... supernat...

Demetra devotedly opened it, and her cheeks immediately came alive with a slight blush. The illustrations, in incredibly vivid purple ink, seemed to move across the pages, and the young sorceress immediately sensed why the sisters were behaving as they did.

She continued flipping through it, her lips curved in a mischievous smirk, as she walked briskly toward her bedroom.

Any semblance of tiredness had left her body, giving way to eager longings. She placed the booklet gently on the small table in front of the chaise longue and looked toward the closet at the side of the room. Standing upright, she dropped from her shoulders the heavy cloak she wore to save on firewood and, with a gesture of her hand and a whispered formula on her lips, threw a spark toward the fireplace, which immediately lit up, crackling merrily. She sighed, feeling the air warm up, and her fingers went up to the collar of the silver-embroidered green dress, unfastening the many buttons one by one, unhurriedly. She had waited so long to have some time to herself, those final acts of waiting only increased her desire. She unceremoniously dropped the robe on the floor and went on to untie the soft corset, her fingers tickled by the ribbons running over her hands.

A shiver, perhaps of cold or perhaps of excitement ran through her chest as she removed it and hung it from the back of the chair. She ran two fingers over her nipples and smiled at the goose bumps that gesture caused her. She kicked off her slippers, causing them to end up somewhere under the bed, and with a single gesture she pulled down the rest of her underwear, sliding it over her long legs. Lifting her feet, she stepped over the pile of fabric and positioned herself in front of the mirror, completely naked.

"No. Not like this."

Something was missing, to make that moment special. She looked at herself for a few seconds, absentmindedly stroking her warm body, then she took a few steps and opened the closet. From the lingerie drawer she took, without even contemplating other options, a purple suit. It had been a long, long time since she had worn it, and she felt it was perfect for the evening ahead.
She put on the garter belt, standing in front of the mirror, adjusting it on her hips. Immediately after she slipped the stockings on, pulling them up to mid-thigh then attaching the hooks. She brushed her legs together, admiring the effect the mirror offered her.
The bra needed more time because of the intricate play of laces woven across her chest and neck, but the end result was spectacular. The sheer fabric did not conceal at all the nipples that had become turgid from the touch of the silk. Demetra wasted a few seconds looking at herself and touching them gently, and then took hold of the most important piece of the outfit.