06-08-2018, 08:40 PM
<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Calligraffitti|Coda|Lato|Roboto+Condensed" rel="stylesheet"><style type="text/css">.toni_container {position: relative;z-index: 1; background-color: black;width: 550px;border-radius: 280px 283px 0px 0px;box-shadow: 0px 0px 10px 8px black;}.toni_container p {margin: 0;}.toni_image {position:relative;z-index:2;width: 550px; border-radius: 270px 274px 0px 0px;}.toni_gradient {position: relative;z-index: 3;top:-30px;width: 550px;height: 30px;background:background: -ms-linear-gradient(top, rgba(125,185,232,0) 0%, rgba(2,0,1,0.99) 99%, rgba(2,0,1,1) 100%);background: -webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(125,185,232,0) 0%,rgba(2,0,1,0.99) 99%,rgba(2,0,1,1) 100%);background: linear-gradient(to bottom, rgba(125,185,232,0) 0%,rgba(2,0,1,0.99) 99%,rgba(2,0,1,1) 100%);filter;padding:0px;margin:0px;}.toni_message {position:relative;z-index:0;background-color:#000;text-align: justify;font: 12px 'Times New Roman', serif;padding-left: 25px; padding-right: 25px;padding-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px;;color: #D7D5D6;border-radius: 0px 0px 18px 18px;}.toni_quote {position: relative; z-index: 10000; text-align:center; margin-bottom:15px;color: #2C0C50;font-size:50px;font:40px 'Calligraffitti', cursive;letter-spacing:30px;}</style><center><div class="toni_container"><img class="toni_image" src="https://i.pinimg.com/736x/4d/da/09/4dda093e1240f0d7f82673cf26bf1c33.jpg"><div class="toni_gradient"></div><div class="toni_message">She's been watching - oh, how she's been watching...
Years and decades and close to a century have passed since her arrival. Heeded by naught, she slid in unnoticed by any, under a different name, a different skin. Regina Atra, she'd been named, Elsewhere; Evil Queen. For some time she'd walked along in silence, learning Beqanna simply by the smell of her, and by the sight of her every curve and slant. But as silence continued to be her sole companion, Beqanna changed her fate, christening her anew, swathing her in its likeness.
Gone was the black coat of a mare forgettable; in the wake of the Faerie's gift, a goddess was born.
Not in the same sense as some, perhaps, but in her own right; an up and coming Rea. As the years passed, she went from stallion to stallion to bear him a child. Despite her height and the cunning of her dark brown eyes, she never let on about her scheming plan. Instead, she acted the meek and mountable lass, ever fuckable and ever reproductive. Though it took time <i>(years and decades and close to a century)</i>, her plan eventually came to fruition.
The children of her children bore crowns atop their skulls; they were fruitful, multiplying tenfold the amount she could on her own. Across Beqanna, purple heads began rising up like weeds, called forth by the sound of her devious laughter when no one was around to hear it. Well, except the Faerie, of course, but we'll get to Her later.
Kirin, Klaudius, Kylin, Karat, Krone, Kharon, Kyveli, Krominium - a legion of lavender children identified by the hard <i>Cuh</I> that began their names. They were the most prominent of her descendants, wreaking havoc across the land in ways that most assuredly made the Evil Queen proud. Of her other purple children, Brynn was perhaps her favourite. She had a lark naming her two daughters Larq and Larck, full siblings that they were to boot. And of course Winzy was winningly beautiful, being the colour shifter she was; birthing Winzuzu and Winzlet, who the Queen was sure would fly into fame sometime soon.
But enough with the alliterations and inside jokes that only she and the Faerie shared.
<I>(Ah, yes, the Faerie. Gilded in wonder and clothed in starlight, the creature resembled a human when She wished. Larger and less defined, She walked with the grace of one who had perhaps once been a resident of Beqanna, and not a Ruler of it. Oftentimes she could be seen during the winter, aloft in a white dress and often - always - mistaken for a cloud. She'd been the one to redefine Casia's existence, her own Messiah. And though she had more pressing duties than a mare with a wont for sex and subtle power, the Faerie found herself irresistibly drawn to the Evil Queen. Something about those eyes and those hips, and most of all, the way she spoke. The Faerie suspected that they'd known each other in a life before, that they were perhaps reincarnated lovers - but as time went on </i>(years and decades and almost a century)<i> she cared less about the past and more about the present. That is to say, they became lovers again - needy and careless and wanton. They schemed and they planned, wary in their illegal union of Fae and Mortal. Others had done it before, but perhaps not out of love: perhaps not out of lust. They fucked with an abandon that Casia could never hope to recreate with any stallion Beqanna had to offer, though that did not stop her from continuing that agenda. For an agenda it was, after all - you do not become lovers with a Faerie without paying a price. And her price was to reach 164 descendants, as an experiment to the Fae hierarchy in exchange for hers and the Faerie's union. In the name of love and diabolically good sex, she prostituted herself out to all of Beqanna - but it didn't matter any. She had the Faerie. What more could she need.)</i>
Time ran short, and of time, she had already been taken of too greedily.
<i>"Remember your agreement, Casia,"</i> came Her low voice, a humming, thrumming sound. The elderly mare leaned her massive weight into the being's side, unafraid of hurting the magical entity. They'd been together for so long, ever since she'd found that stream and drank of it; ever since she'd shed the name Regina Atra in exchange for the one she bore now. The Faerie's hand was cool against her skull, brushing her thick purple forelock away from her eyes. A tired sigh whuffed from her nostrils, a lifetime's exhaustion threatening to take hold.
<b>"I have not forgotten; how could I, my love?"</b>
Lifting herself, the wizened creature stepped forward, away from their nook and towards a realm that she'd heard plenty of, but that she'd never been welcomed to until now. 164 descendants - how it hurt her head to imagine. In her old age however, she felt next to nothing about this next adventure of hers - but as she looked back into the infinitely wise face of her lifelong protector, something trilled inside of her. The call of passion and of scheming; they'd worked <i>so hard for this.</i> She'd fucked so hard for this.
She'd had ten lifetimes with a creature she never deserved and never would; paying the price now of becoming a lab rat for the science of the Fae was little to none in comparison. Or so she thought.
"Don't be afraid,"</i> the Faerie murmured, reaching out with both hands to cup both sides of Casia's purple face. Their eyes connected, a shock ran through her; adrenaline, oxytocin, tranquilizers, both, everything. A moan of sexual pleasure and release slipped gutturally from the mare as the familiar sensation of orgasm rolled over her at the whim of her companion. Trembling now, though only slightly, the mare nodded, nuzzling closer and preparing herself to step through the portal.
<i>"I won't let them hurt you."</i>
<b>"I don't believe you in the slightest."</b></br></br><div class="toni_quote">casia</div> </div></div></center>
Figured this gal needs a history and a story, so, here it is. >
Years and decades and close to a century have passed since her arrival. Heeded by naught, she slid in unnoticed by any, under a different name, a different skin. Regina Atra, she'd been named, Elsewhere; Evil Queen. For some time she'd walked along in silence, learning Beqanna simply by the smell of her, and by the sight of her every curve and slant. But as silence continued to be her sole companion, Beqanna changed her fate, christening her anew, swathing her in its likeness.
Gone was the black coat of a mare forgettable; in the wake of the Faerie's gift, a goddess was born.
Not in the same sense as some, perhaps, but in her own right; an up and coming Rea. As the years passed, she went from stallion to stallion to bear him a child. Despite her height and the cunning of her dark brown eyes, she never let on about her scheming plan. Instead, she acted the meek and mountable lass, ever fuckable and ever reproductive. Though it took time <i>(years and decades and close to a century)</i>, her plan eventually came to fruition.
The children of her children bore crowns atop their skulls; they were fruitful, multiplying tenfold the amount she could on her own. Across Beqanna, purple heads began rising up like weeds, called forth by the sound of her devious laughter when no one was around to hear it. Well, except the Faerie, of course, but we'll get to Her later.
Kirin, Klaudius, Kylin, Karat, Krone, Kharon, Kyveli, Krominium - a legion of lavender children identified by the hard <i>Cuh</I> that began their names. They were the most prominent of her descendants, wreaking havoc across the land in ways that most assuredly made the Evil Queen proud. Of her other purple children, Brynn was perhaps her favourite. She had a lark naming her two daughters Larq and Larck, full siblings that they were to boot. And of course Winzy was winningly beautiful, being the colour shifter she was; birthing Winzuzu and Winzlet, who the Queen was sure would fly into fame sometime soon.
But enough with the alliterations and inside jokes that only she and the Faerie shared.
<I>(Ah, yes, the Faerie. Gilded in wonder and clothed in starlight, the creature resembled a human when She wished. Larger and less defined, She walked with the grace of one who had perhaps once been a resident of Beqanna, and not a Ruler of it. Oftentimes she could be seen during the winter, aloft in a white dress and often - always - mistaken for a cloud. She'd been the one to redefine Casia's existence, her own Messiah. And though she had more pressing duties than a mare with a wont for sex and subtle power, the Faerie found herself irresistibly drawn to the Evil Queen. Something about those eyes and those hips, and most of all, the way she spoke. The Faerie suspected that they'd known each other in a life before, that they were perhaps reincarnated lovers - but as time went on </i>(years and decades and almost a century)<i> she cared less about the past and more about the present. That is to say, they became lovers again - needy and careless and wanton. They schemed and they planned, wary in their illegal union of Fae and Mortal. Others had done it before, but perhaps not out of love: perhaps not out of lust. They fucked with an abandon that Casia could never hope to recreate with any stallion Beqanna had to offer, though that did not stop her from continuing that agenda. For an agenda it was, after all - you do not become lovers with a Faerie without paying a price. And her price was to reach 164 descendants, as an experiment to the Fae hierarchy in exchange for hers and the Faerie's union. In the name of love and diabolically good sex, she prostituted herself out to all of Beqanna - but it didn't matter any. She had the Faerie. What more could she need.)</i>
Time ran short, and of time, she had already been taken of too greedily.
<i>"Remember your agreement, Casia,"</i> came Her low voice, a humming, thrumming sound. The elderly mare leaned her massive weight into the being's side, unafraid of hurting the magical entity. They'd been together for so long, ever since she'd found that stream and drank of it; ever since she'd shed the name Regina Atra in exchange for the one she bore now. The Faerie's hand was cool against her skull, brushing her thick purple forelock away from her eyes. A tired sigh whuffed from her nostrils, a lifetime's exhaustion threatening to take hold.
<b>"I have not forgotten; how could I, my love?"</b>
Lifting herself, the wizened creature stepped forward, away from their nook and towards a realm that she'd heard plenty of, but that she'd never been welcomed to until now. 164 descendants - how it hurt her head to imagine. In her old age however, she felt next to nothing about this next adventure of hers - but as she looked back into the infinitely wise face of her lifelong protector, something trilled inside of her. The call of passion and of scheming; they'd worked <i>so hard for this.</i> She'd fucked so hard for this.
She'd had ten lifetimes with a creature she never deserved and never would; paying the price now of becoming a lab rat for the science of the Fae was little to none in comparison. Or so she thought.
"Don't be afraid,"</i> the Faerie murmured, reaching out with both hands to cup both sides of Casia's purple face. Their eyes connected, a shock ran through her; adrenaline, oxytocin, tranquilizers, both, everything. A moan of sexual pleasure and release slipped gutturally from the mare as the familiar sensation of orgasm rolled over her at the whim of her companion. Trembling now, though only slightly, the mare nodded, nuzzling closer and preparing herself to step through the portal.
<i>"I won't let them hurt you."</i>
<b>"I don't believe you in the slightest."</b></br></br><div class="toni_quote">casia</div> </div></div></center>
Figured this gal needs a history and a story, so, here it is. >