A Space for my Heart
An Emphasis on Teasing
The tower getaway was already looking better. It was a wonder what a woman’s touch could bring to even a sepulchral crypt in the sky, Kanaya mused. A woman who had had the inspiration to set up a second client-server interface with Dirk here in his tower and then set about remodeling his home away from home with her SGRUB interface and considerable grist reserves to give it just a little bit more personality. A lurid purple plush carpet, a few additional rooms branching off of the main chamber, including but not limited to a fully-functioning and rather luxurious washroom, some wall hangings and throw-pillows, a number of other furnishings, and even Dirk was soon able to admit that the domicile was approaching the level of ‘swag’ that he had initially envisioned for it.
Kanaya’s standards, naturally, were a touch higher and more specific. She frowned thoughtfully as she ran her fingertips against the rough-hewn green stone walls which made up the improbable structure, wondering if a coat of paint or even some wallpaper was out of the question. Even if Dirk had what he had tried to explain to her as an ironic attachment to the awfulness and discomfort of the place in its native state (though he had couched this in more oblique and strangely poetic terms than that), she was sure that she could convince him of the merit of giving her her way here.
Indeed, as she stood in the washroom and examined herself in the reflection of the ostentatiously large floor-length mirror, she felt rather confident that she could convince him of virtually anything. She could not and did not attempt to contain a self-satisfied little smirk of delight as she checked herself over in the rather risque setting that she had turned her wardrobifier to. Gold trim on white silk stockings, gloves and collar, with a fetchingly revealing green and white corset that happened to artfully incorporate her sign into its elabourate jade-green ribbing. She had first produced this arrangement with Rose in mind, hoping to tease, tantalize and entice the girl with a bit of dance, a bit of play. But with Rose, it had always been one of two modes; either kicking and screaming to do anything but descend into a soporific stupour, or else just “getting it done” without any foreplay. And while the forceful earnestness of that approach had briefly seemed stimulating, it had become stale quickly.