Thread: Paradise Isle  (Fades & Good Girls)

Jeffrey watched, everything. The bravery. The nervousness. The nakedness, and complete vulnerability because of it. The emotional vulnerability in addition to the physical. But, no - she wasn't emotionally vulnerable, this one. He watched everything, and that included the triumphant rising above it. She was strong. Ferocious, even. Everything she did, she carried herself with an endearing humanity that others only wished, in their very deepest thoughts, they might be so bold one day as well. She was someone who got it , Jeffrey thought. His Emilia , he thought with a smile as he watched her own her moment like a champion. With the signing of the document she made everything official. This was all pomp, everything around them, this was all circumstance - a circus of nudity and cameras, of microphones and opinions that didn't necessarily have to be part of this. Strip it all away, and truth was, the ink now drying upon that rolled parchment was very, very real. As were the words writ above it, creating a lifelong agreement between two consenting adults. He'd listened to her talk. He'd watched her walk, conviction brimming, naked and yet fierce all the same. He'd watched her take her position on the stage, knelt at its front, at its center, presenting her body to the crowd in a submissive kneel - yet it was not a submission to them. Jeffrey took a slow, deep breath as she did this. This was part of the 'show,' part of the statement that the five of them were going to make together to the world this day. He had yet to meet any of his ladies officially, one-on-one, but an aide had walked them through the presentation part of this all backstage, everything from presenting their charity, to the token act of signing in front of an audience, to this, what would come next, perhaps the most meaningful presentation of it all. The taller, fully-dressed man stepped off the side of the stage quietly, unnotably, whilst the bare and discerning beauty kept everyone's attention. Another aide brought him la touche finale - French for ' the finishing touch ,' which was etched into the side of a branding iron. The rod was shorter than most, only about a few inches or so, with a dark walnut wooden handle that fluted at the bottom, and a top that already shone with an orange-red glow. The brand? His initials. JT, joined at the top, encircled, in a sleek, elegant font. Jeffrey returned to the stage with the tool in tow, the fingers of his right hand wrapped around its dark wooden handle. The glow of its head is what caught the eye of the crowd as he appeared, walking slowly toward Emilia from behind her and to the side, and it's what caused a distinct hush, followed by a just as clear din of mixed excitement and disbelief among all in attendance. Things had gone so quiet that his footsteps were unexpectedly audible, clicking heavy and slow against the stage. Walking toward her. Coming up, then, to stand directly behind. Then he knelt. One knee to the floor, the other jutted forward, just behind her. In a flow his free hand, his left, swept around her head, brushed back he brunette hair, and turned her head to the side - which he met, leaning forward and to the side, bending down into a kiss. Their first kiss. Soft, yet meaningful. Quiet, brief, yet tender, even with the cameras clicking away. He whispered, breathing against her lips as he did so, his words once again just for her, It's okay to cry, or scream, or clutch, or whatever else you feel you need to do. Just try to stay still. A second kiss, higher now, was placed on Emilia's forehead. I'm already proud of you , the whisper continued. But it was immediately after that, unfortunately, the tenderness had to go away. That left hand sifted into her beautiful brown hair, taking firm hold of a fistful at its base. He pulled Emilia back to an upright kneel, then urged her forward, then back, sharply, sending her loose hair flailing up in a show as he forced her back to sharply arch into his knee, the back of her head to lay atop his thigh, and her bare bosom to jut forward, prominently, on display. Without further hesitation his right hand came around, the red-hot head of the branding iron pressing into the flesh above Emilia's left breast, searing her new master's initials right against her heart. His own heart ached, there, in that moment, despite how the world thought him insane, or a monster, or simply an asshole for all of this. His own heart raced. His jaw held a slight quiver to it. But Jeffrey remained firm, seeing it through, holding the iron there for several seconds as he counted in his head. By the time the act was done and he dropped the iron to the stage, it landing beside them with a clatter, light wisps of smoke could be seen wafting if one looked ever so closely, and the smell of the marked flesh did the job just as well for anyone that was further away. Jeffrey quickly grabbed her about the waist. He'd let go of her hair and his kneel quickly devolved to a sit as he pulled Emilia's back to his chest, holding her there in an embrace.