Tess couldn’t quite tell what it was, but there was something different about this submissive. It seemed as if the more they talked, the less it felt like the woman was keeping her company out of obligation, but rather genuinely wanted to listen to her. It was a sad admission to know how rare that was. It wasn’t that Tess didn’t know how to hold a conversation, she was trained to be a competent and charming speaker, but when things got intimate, when it was only herself and another woman, she often faltered, betrayed by her own nerves and insecurities. That was when there was actual conversation to be had — the alternative was a quick exchange of money and promises of secrecy before an empty night. So far, Mila hadn’t given room for any that. It was… new. “There are ways to find satisfaction even in the face of imperfection. No artistic creation is perfect, but I can still admire a painting, I can still enjoy a good book. It’s the same for food, wine, fashion… What I admire in the things I like is their pursue for excellence, their utmost dedication to their craft. Like I said, it’s not always about the perfect itself, but the search for it,” there was a hint of passion in the Domme’s voice as she spoke, one that was rarer than she would’ve liked, “there is also the acknowledgement that things are hardly ever perfect by themselves, but there is nothing stopping you from combining them to find something better.” It almost felt a little silly, to be explaining her guiding views in life to someone she’d just met in a fairy tales-themed party, but in that moment, Tess wouldn’t have it any other way. Mila wanted to hear her, and she wanted to talk. “As for knowing when to stop pressing for more, admittedly, it can be a challenge, and I won’t say I have always been great at it… but I usually know I’m getting close when there’s a smile on my face. Perfection can often be a very personal quality, and knowing that, I can stop looking for it whenever I find something that meets my standards, as high as they can possibly be,” the Domme smiled as she explained, reveling in a smart conversation with a beautiful submissive. They talked about perfection, and yet there were very few things she enjoyed more than this. Even Mila’s questioning never even came close to bothering her; she would much rather have this back and forth than another cold woman who only accepted what she had to say as absolute law. “You’re not offending anyone, dear. The way I live my life is hardly usual, it makes perfect sense for anyone to question it. I-” she stopped for a moment to find her words — this was the part of the conversation she almost never, if ever, talked about with anyone. For some reason, she felt safe enough with Mila to share, “I’m afraid I never quite learned how to live in the moment. There wasn’t a class for that,” she let out a small, almost embarrassed chuckle, “I understand the appeal, of course - the romanticism of it all - but I never felt comfortable in it.” The Domme finished with a sip of her drink, partly to hide her face behind her glass. She did make special note of one other thing, however, ‘no pretend’ — she could count on her fingers how many times in her life that was an accurate statement around her or her family. But she didn’t disagree.
Small compliments between Dominants and submissives were often the norm in situations like this, but whether it was by obligation or not, Tess couldn’t help but open a small, flattered smirk at Mila’s words. With some luck she would know soon how sincere the woman was, but she was confident, helped by the fact she didn’t seem to be able to stop touching her. Tess wanted more, of course, she could barely wait for the time she had enough privacy to be the one touching the other, but she remained still, knowing the wait would be much more than worth it. For now, she would endure the temptation. “I have two younger sisters, Emily and Katherine. They’re ten and twelve years younger than me, which can be a challenge sometimes. When they were younger, they would often call me Wicked Witch to rile me up or annoy me. I thought I would embody that for that night,” the truth was a little more complicated than that, as was her relationship with her family, but that wasn’t the time to get into that. She would much rather focus on the silly anecdote than the fact that both of her sisters blamed her for ruining their lives or that she often felt like she deserved being called a witch for everything she’d done in the past, and everything she still does. All of it was well hidden behind a casual smile as she explained her choice of costume. The Domme used her own question to admire Mila, more than just the clothes she was wearing, but her features, sharp and strong. Elegant. Tess raised a brow at her explanation, a silent admission that she still failed to know the inspiration behind such a graceful costume. “Well, I’m sure such Goddess would be rather pleased with the honor. You look beautiful,” she spoke freely now, with the confidence boost given by the submissive’s earlier promise. “I’m very interested, though. I’d love to know more about her,” a small request on the larger scheme of things, but hopefully one of many that would eventually follow.
This, Tess gathered, was the moment of truth. The submissive’s response to their first moment of tension would like inform how the night was going to progress, or if it would progress at all. Far too often the Domme had ruined nights, perhaps not as magical as this one, but nights that gave her hope for future, sometimes because the other woman proved herself to be below her standards or because Tess herself got lost in her own insecurities or rigidity. It would be far too easy for Mila to leave her alone where she stood to find another Dominant to entertain her, someone who she actually wanted to spend her time with. For whatever reason, she did not. More than that, her words lifted her up like she could never have expected. The submissive felt lucky. Any level of tension immediately left Tess’ body, replaced by a type of confidence she only displayed in the most special of circumstances. “Neither do I, but I’m sure you can find a way to repay the gratitude,” she teased, choosing to ignore the last bit of what Mila had to say. For the first time since she first stepped foot in Rosewood, she wasn’t thinking about leaving — not if it meant cutting short her experience with the other woman. Even if she wasn’t planning to move back home any time soon (her cover could realistically keep her in the estate for as long as she needed), the thought of leaving the submissive did help her make a decision: she would enjoy the night as much as she possibly could. Damn the risk; sometimes in search of perfection, whether that was a perfect night or a perfect connection, you simply had to take chances. What a chance Mila was.
It was impossible for Tess to hide her satisfaction as they walked together under the moonlight. Her light tease clearly had the effect she desire, and the intimacy they shared felt almost like a dream. The Domme couldn’t help but steal glances from the submissive, dumbfounded by the fact that what was happening was actually real. The hum against her ear had the hair on the back on her neck standing up with the electricity of the moment, “I might have a thing or two in mind, yes,” she grinned in return, tilting her head slightly to watch the other woman. There was no way of knowing what would realistically happen next, not knowing where they were going in the first place, but what kind of Dominant would Tess be if she didn’t have a plan for the submissive should things go her way? And she would make sure that they would. ‘Do you trust me enough to close your eyes, mistress?’ The way the word mistress left Mlia’s lips was nothing short of addicting and she couldn’t wait to hear her repeat it again and again, but it was a different word that held Tess’ attention. Trust. The single most important aspect in a relationship between a Dominant and a submissive, and not by accident the hardest to achieve. She wouldn’t be silly enough to say that she trusted the other woman completely after knowing her for half a night, but there was no denying she wanted to, badly. Trust would mean whatever happened between her and Mila lasted more than a magical night, that it was more than a struck of luck helped by the perfect set of circumstances, that the dream had become reality. The Domme didn’t trust her completely, but she trusted her enough. She hummed low as she closed her eyes and held the woman’s hand tight as they walked into the night. It was a weird position to be at, again as the Dominant being led by a submissive — she was much more used to being the one who blinded her partners temporarily — but it was a position she appreciated all the same, at least now, when there were only the two of them and nobody could see her nervous grin, “you sure do enjoy your adventures, don’t you, Mila?”
The Domme enjoyed the short travel, soft submissve hands leading the way to their own version of a promised land, but the anticipation was eating her inside by the time she was told to open her eyes once again (and no, she did not cheat for a second). Mila was right, she wasn’t disappointed. Tess didn’t reply to the woman’s question right away, instead she took a few steps forward to really take in what she was looking at, a careful study of the location, even if only to deprive her of an immediate recompense — that would come later. She had used the word magical far too many times that night, but perhaps nothing could be as accurate to the true meaning of the word than that place, and that moment. Tess took her sweet time, adding to the suspense, before moving back towards Mila, a serious face slowly turning more jovial, playful,”it’s not bad,” she finally spoke with a nod, hands reaching to the other woman’s side to finally hold her the way she’d wanted to since she first laid eyes on her. The warmth from the springs behind her wasn’t the only warmth she was feeling. “But I can think of a way or two to improve it,” were her last words before she leaned forward, closing the small gap between them and capturing Mila’s lips on her own on a tender, if slightly hungry, kiss, the Domme’s grip on her sides tightening as she felt unable to stop herself. Breaking the kiss was the hardest thing she had to do in a long time, but she did it with a smirk on her face, “see? Perfect,” a self-congratulatory remark, sure, but one that felt appropriate in the moment. Tess watched the submissive’s face closely for an instant, holding back the will to repeat what had just happened before her attention moved back to the hot springs, “was part of you plan to go for a swim? Because I’m afraid this dress can’t go on the water,” she teased.
From the moment Tess began her explanation, Mila was captivated. There was no other way to describe how she currently felt. The luring words coupled with the obvious, yet not overly enthusiastic passion behind them was something she couldn’t recall having witnessed in a long time. Especially regarding the subject matter she’d chosen for her examples. “That truly is a beautiful way to look at it.” She admitted wholeheartedly, certainly not one with any qualms in disclosing when her view might have swayed to a certain extent. “Appreciating something that isn’t quite perfect through the artist’s zeal and pursuit of such in their craft.” It wasn’t fair, quite frankly. How was it possible for someone to be so articulate and breathtaking, all at the same time. That particular point of view one that Mila certainly had no complaints about...There was also something to be said for Tess implementing the exact subject matter while she spoke on it. Perhaps not even intended, but a concept Mila picked up on all the same. “She says while smiling.” The brunette chuckled lightly, brow raised in response. “Should I be flattered or thank the setting..? Or is it neither, and this is simply your rather devious way of making me grasp your ‘combining to find something better’ theory.” She teased faintly, unsure if it was even a conscious decision but also not putting it past someone as astute as the domme seemed to be. The pause in her phrasing while she clearly searched for the right expression wasn’t lost on Mila, understanding it maybe meant something a little deeper and so should perhaps be taken a little less lightly. “Oh I don’t think there was a class behind the passion you wield in your endeavour for impeccability either, I believe that’s all you...” She smiled softly, a faint shrug lifting her shoulders. “But perhaps we can change that for the evening? It does feel like a rather spectacular night for firsts, and my life happens to consist completely of non-preemptive moments. It’s the planning aspect that you seem to thrive in that I find uncomfortable.” Or at least, a luxury she couldn’t afford. There was no place for her at the manor to dwell on what could have and might be, to make plans only meant disappointment, and recalling her past only pain. It was a rare opulence for Mila to find herself having a say in any facet of her life -- one of the first in a while her decision to stay with Tess in this moment.
Perhaps even more enticing than getting to touch the dominant, was the restraint she showed in the face of it. Such things told her far more than words ever could about the kind of individual she was dealing with. So often those with silvery blue birthmarks would react on their impulses, undisciplined and lacking in that control they loved so much. If her own lack of it was currently telling her anything, it was how much trouble she would be in should it bleed into other aspects of Tess’ life too. She certainly exuded that composure far too well, and Mila couldn’t seem to help her mind wandering to the implications of such things. Her gaze fell back to the brunette’s as she listened to the explanation, making a mental note of her sister’s names and relative age difference out of habit despite doubting the domme would mind if she forgot. It was what they called her that stuck out, head tilting faintly in response. “Well, i’ve never particularly considered being called a witch an insult; rather a symbol that has endured over the centuries, a representation of female empowerment in patriarchal narratives...But wicked? I understand we’ve only just met, but it’s about the furthest out descriptor I could think to use for you -- At least, in the context a sibling would use it.” She added with a smirk, a light suggestiveness to her last few words in case it was a topic the domme would rather not delve into. A fleeting thing that could be fixated on as an alternative. Praise was always something Mila would happily accept, even if more often than not the empty comments did nothing for her. This felt different. The tone in which the domme offered up such a complement, coupled with her roaming eyes, was enough to have her dropping her gaze momentarily. That soft blush finding purchase in her cheeks once more, a betrayal in her outward appearance that aggravated her a greatly...Even if Tess knew full well the effect she had at this point. “Thank you, Miss.” She added with a hidden smile, before tilting her chin back up regardless. She was hardly some simpering school girl, there was just something about the domme and the tension in the air that had her hyperaware it seemed. “I used to visit Cambodia a lot as a kid, I couldn’t tell you how - accurate, my grandfather’s stories might be. After all he did love to exaggerate for dramatic effect.” The brunette smiled fondly at the memory, trying to recall any specifics. “But barring all the theatrics, she’s a prominent Goddess’ in their religion. One of agriculture, rain and regrowth. Her name literally means great one, and he always said it was due to the fact that she’s the most important - Something that i’m sure actually divides opinion.” Mila added with a faint chuckle, knowing full well to perhaps not take that as gospel. “Local myths claim that she was born in the clouds and remains there, still controlling the water’s regenerative gift to the land and souls of their people, hence why Epics sometimes symbolise her as a gentle rain -- The best part is even the royal family still plow a certain field in order to appease her, as a way to ensure the growth of crops...I always thought that was rather symbolic, you know? For even such affluent people to humble themselves to her.” She perhaps hadn’t fully understood the implications of it when she was younger, but regardless of wealth and stature, it was truly something that united them all. “I mean, she also has ninety-seven husbands and thirty-eight daughters apparently, but that’s neither here nor there.”
It was painstakingly obvious to see how the tension left Tess’ frame once her words had sunk in with the domme. Something that she was thankful for, glad that she could offer her some easement, even if she didn’t exactly understand what tension she had felt in the first place. The woman wasn’t acting in any unusual way, at least in her eyes. If anything, that promise of protection and the tone it was offered made her far more inclined to believe it, rather than shrink back and feel she’d done something wrong. She would much prefer stricter dominants any day, and Tess had been such a perfect combination of controlling and yet slightly gentle in that moment it took more restraint than she cared to admit not to jump the gun and close the distance. Especially given that response. “I’ll endeavour to do so, just say the word.” Mila all but purred, the sudden increase in confidence radiating off the domme in waves affecting her far more than she cared for...before shaking herself out of it. She wasn’t like this. Usually she prided herself on her self-discipline, her ability to stand back and be lead or guided by another; unfazed until they made it clear she should be, even sometimes riling up to such an extent they would act -- The submissive felt capable of none of it with Tess, a thought that excited her greatly, and worried her too. Finding someone so apt at ticking all her boxes and pushing all the right buttons was dangerous. Her greatest fear perhaps an overstep on her part fuelled by the sexual tension she could already feel in little licks of warmth against her skin, while Tess remained as collected as ever. She truly was in for a long night the way things were going.
The slight change of pace and being granted another aspect to think about helped, something that alleviated her all but squirmy disposition, at least to some extent. The stolen glances that had her smirking and averting her gaze every now and then canceled out by a need to recall the unmarked path. That, combined with the fact she wasn’t denied such close proximity to her current mistress brought her back to herself enough to scrape some semblance of restraint into her demeanour. The reaction she picked up on for her fleeting contact being one of the first real indications she had received that she was physically affecting the woman. A crowning achievement in her view, given what she had learnt of the domme so far. “Well now i’m curious even if you aren’t disappointed.” She smiled lightly, a thought that lingered on all the same. Tess being difficult to read was hardly a notion she minded, given how obvious most could be, but she was intrigued as to what those ideas could possibly entail. The faint hum and way her hand was gripped tighter gave her more indication that Tess had done as suggested, a reaction that had her smiling despite herself as she took extra precautions to ensure no tripping over tree routes or snagging on branches. The last thing she wanted to do with this new found trust was ruin it over something so trivial as her own carelessness. “Of course, Miss. How else would you ever escape the ordinary? I’d much rather collect stories than material things.”
She watched carefully as the domme stepped away from her to survey the scenery. No word being uttered for what felt like an eternity. Mila had been so certain Tess would appreciate it as she had, a thought that had her beginning to second guess everything she thought she had gleaned about her during their conversations. Brows furrowing slightly in quiet reflection, she tried to recall anything that may have been taken out of context for her to miss her mark, so lost in it she almost missed the shift from a serious expression to taunting playfulness as she walked back towards her. About to make a spirited remark in response to not bad being her only thought, before it was lost as Tess grabbed her, pulling her in. A faint yet ludic pout clinging to her lips. “I’m sure there must be a better way to make a submissive squirm, miss. It was very mean to keep me in suspense like that.” Mila teased, still unsure exactly how Tess truly felt about the view but uncaring right now. They could be anywhere and it would still be perfect in her mind. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, and what would--” She was cut off as the domme leaned in, caught up in the press of her lips. It was an almost gentle thing, but one that soon built up, pushing herself flush against the domme as she let out a little mew in response. The hands tightening around her hips had her fidgeting slightly, unable to help it after the painfully slow build up to this exact moment. She just about managed to catch the small noise of protest in her throat as Tess pulled away once more, unhelped by the fact she truly didn’t want to stop but knowing it wasn’t her place to initiate either. “If this is what you mean by it, you may be converting me rather quickly.” She chuckled, slightly more breathless than she’d intended to be, fingertips tracing along the domme’s sharp jaw since it was where her hands had fallen even as the talk of swimming came into the picture. “You could always take it off?” She quipped back, head tilting suggestively for a few moments before she continued. “But no, not if you don’t wish to. It was more the general setting and privacy I thought you might appreciate. This hardly seemed like an evening to spend in the manor -- Besides, those heels can still come off, no? We could...” She paused briefly, the closeness and unexpected kiss certainly not helping her concentration any. “We could always sit at the edge?”