sultry siren

Tiah Eckhardt by Holly Blake
No. Magazine Issue #10

not sure where this came from.. late night rambling from god knows where.. inspiration provoked by gorgeous red hair and coveted cocktail rings..

She is temptation. An elegant creature with an arresting beauty, she has been refined by years of careful cultivation, a wild spirit bridled by repressive social etiquettes that could never quite conceal her evident sexuality. Her luscious flaming hair caressing an alabaster brow was the most obvious of her attributes unable to be obscured. It caused fingers to ache to with desire, longing to grasp the voluminous locks and tug forcefully to the side, exposing her graceful swan’s neck. Lips perfectly poised as if wrapped around some seductive syllable yet to be spoken, permanently stained with an engorged flush that alluded to her illicit behaviors. Her nose tapered and slight, pretentiously curved at the end, as is so of most girls of her upbringing. And ashen eyes like a silvered oyster shell, brimming with so much of the intense innocence of a child that she wears too much eye makeup to distract from them.

Her body was soft and supple, pale from her family’s attempts to shelter her from the world, a caged lily within the monumental manor grounds. In sporadic fits of disregarding rebellion, she marred her pallid perfection with tattooed images of a most vulgar nature, knowing it would incite pure mortification among her relations. She thought they were pornographic, and was decidedly taken with them.

And so she saunters through the empty estate, deemed far too much a liability to be taken out to cocktail parties in her libidinous state. She drips with jeweled baubles, hanging thickly off of her lithe frame, feet bound in silken bondage platforms, her couture ensembles textured and metallic, intended to lure men to her like sticky sweet nectar. She manages to transform conservative brocade and ruffled satin into glossy surfaces begging to be stroked. Her sumptuous leopard fur all she dons save a diamond encrusted velvet choker while lounging on the creamy jacquard duvet beside the family’s pedigreed darling. The nakedness thrills her; the exhilaration of fabrics brushing against her sensitive skin, the fur caressing her body so simultaneously primal and luxurious. She takes secret pleasure in sprawling across the heirloom oak dining table fully nude, reveling in the polished wood sleek against her body. She wishes for a lover but wonders if being so forbidden isn’t more enticing.

Her musings lead her to the immaculately manicured grounds. A slinky gown hugs her silhouette, caressing her body in the cool night air. Her hair is a blaze against the stone intricacies of an effigy; she is striking enough to resemble one herself, if not for her crimson lips and fingertips.

Like a moth to a flame they are drawn. And from such sinful beauty there can be no return. She will forever remain theirs to crave, a lust that will never be slicked. Tantalizingly unattainable. Temptation in its most distilled form.

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