Pamela Flitton Fic!
Apr. 25th, 2006 07:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
moogingI have typed up the first of the fics I wrote while I was on holiday, and it happens to be for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cecile_volanges but I hope everyone else enjoys too!
It stars Pamela Flitton, Miranda's character from A Dance to the Music of Time who happens to look like this. Anyway, there are spoilers for Dance to the Music of Time in this, at the end, but only (I think) for what happens to Pamela.
Title: Ever the Changeling
Rating: I don't know...am crap at this. PG-13/R. There's sex, both m/f and f/f. Not much else that could offend anyone!
Disclamer: Pamela isn't mine. Sadly. Though I could think of good uses for her! ;)
Word Count: 696
Summary: "No-one ever knew quite how to describe Pamela Flitton."
A/N: I think the tenses go a tad weird somewhere in this and I'm not quite happy with the first paragraph and I'm always wary when I write sex...but otherwise please just enjoy and comment! I love comments.
No-one ever knew quite how to describe Pamela Flitton. If pushed, they might say cold. Some might say sensual. In truth, she was both and she fitted most other adjectives without effort. To a poetic mind she was a changeling, pale skin, dark hair and piercing eyes, fierce and haughty and flighty like the faeries of old folklore. She lived on her every whim, other people be damned, and she sometimes believed that she didn't see the disapproval aimed at her. She lived her life, and to do that she had to rationalise and compartmentalise and everything came down to pleasure.
One - Sexual Pleasure. She arches up against the nameless woman, face forgotten now, as she orgasms and she would scream but there isn't enough air left in her lungs. She can do the same to others, make them beg her for release, Pamela Pamela Pamela Oh God Pamela. She can ride a man like a warrior, hair streaming down her back, untamed and imperfect, and even as he convulses into her she will feel herself join him and yet still be devising a plan to use the whole encounter against him. There are also the nights with no-one but herself, nothing but her own hands. It will be her own hands on her breasts, her own hands urging her closer to ecstasy, her own broken voice hoarse from want that will call obscenities dirtier than what her fingers are doing and she lets the pleasure disguise the emptiness she will feel when her heart stops pounding.
Two - Vindictive Pleasure. This is how most people see her, the cruel woman with the viper tongue, spitting venom at the worst possible moments. She takes pleasure in making people squirm, flush, stammer. They are sexual reactions yet the opposite of sex, provoking humiliation, disrespect and degradation and Pamela is always the cause. Other people suffer and Pamela will laugh and turn away, there to deal the blow and gone before the rebound of consequence. She seems to know everything and everyone, know the skeletons in the closets down to the last joint in a toe and she is untouchable.
Three - Simple Pleasure. To Pamela, simple pleasure means happiness. When she was small and she shied away from other children, she could be found in doorways, in gardens, on monuments, alone on stone steps thinking about all the things she would do with her life and none of the things that she would turn out to do. As a young woman she had cats and she would sit in the same way but with a cat balled up on her lap as one deftly-fingered hand absently ran through its fur. Later in life, she never had cats because she knew herself to be too unreliable but whenever she saw one in the street she would always stop, stoop down and pet it. It is the closest thing to kindness that she can muster.
Oh, there is pain too, of course, but this is never something that she dwells on. She endures physical pain - no-one can live the way she does without being on the wrong end of the ire of a ham-fisted man but it never gets to her. She deals this pain too, a blow to the jaw, a kick to the crotch and she can come away the strong one. If she ever cries then it is at night, alone, in bed, where she can bury her face in her pillow and wail and still emerge triumphant.
There were those that thought Pamela was crazy. Perhaps they were right, perhaps she was. There were those that thought Pamela was spiteful. She was spiteful, she was, but it was always strength that drove her. She could survive anything if only by the skin of her teeth but she would always survive. That was what she did.
Pamela was a faerie from the folklore of old and she was wicked, flashing teeth and talons and temper.
Pamela was everything from imagination and beyond.
Pamela was everything but when she died, no-one could find the words to describe who she had been.
Pretty please comment. It will bring a smile to my face...and you know you want to make me smile!
Cross-posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
miranda_fans.
Enjoy!
cecile_volanges but I hope everyone else enjoys too!It stars Pamela Flitton, Miranda's character from A Dance to the Music of Time who happens to look like this. Anyway, there are spoilers for Dance to the Music of Time in this, at the end, but only (I think) for what happens to Pamela.
Title: Ever the Changeling
Rating: I don't know...am crap at this. PG-13/R. There's sex, both m/f and f/f. Not much else that could offend anyone!
Disclamer: Pamela isn't mine. Sadly. Though I could think of good uses for her! ;)
Word Count: 696
Summary: "No-one ever knew quite how to describe Pamela Flitton."
A/N: I think the tenses go a tad weird somewhere in this and I'm not quite happy with the first paragraph and I'm always wary when I write sex...but otherwise please just enjoy and comment! I love comments.
No-one ever knew quite how to describe Pamela Flitton. If pushed, they might say cold. Some might say sensual. In truth, she was both and she fitted most other adjectives without effort. To a poetic mind she was a changeling, pale skin, dark hair and piercing eyes, fierce and haughty and flighty like the faeries of old folklore. She lived on her every whim, other people be damned, and she sometimes believed that she didn't see the disapproval aimed at her. She lived her life, and to do that she had to rationalise and compartmentalise and everything came down to pleasure.
One - Sexual Pleasure. She arches up against the nameless woman, face forgotten now, as she orgasms and she would scream but there isn't enough air left in her lungs. She can do the same to others, make them beg her for release, Pamela Pamela Pamela Oh God Pamela. She can ride a man like a warrior, hair streaming down her back, untamed and imperfect, and even as he convulses into her she will feel herself join him and yet still be devising a plan to use the whole encounter against him. There are also the nights with no-one but herself, nothing but her own hands. It will be her own hands on her breasts, her own hands urging her closer to ecstasy, her own broken voice hoarse from want that will call obscenities dirtier than what her fingers are doing and she lets the pleasure disguise the emptiness she will feel when her heart stops pounding.
Two - Vindictive Pleasure. This is how most people see her, the cruel woman with the viper tongue, spitting venom at the worst possible moments. She takes pleasure in making people squirm, flush, stammer. They are sexual reactions yet the opposite of sex, provoking humiliation, disrespect and degradation and Pamela is always the cause. Other people suffer and Pamela will laugh and turn away, there to deal the blow and gone before the rebound of consequence. She seems to know everything and everyone, know the skeletons in the closets down to the last joint in a toe and she is untouchable.
Three - Simple Pleasure. To Pamela, simple pleasure means happiness. When she was small and she shied away from other children, she could be found in doorways, in gardens, on monuments, alone on stone steps thinking about all the things she would do with her life and none of the things that she would turn out to do. As a young woman she had cats and she would sit in the same way but with a cat balled up on her lap as one deftly-fingered hand absently ran through its fur. Later in life, she never had cats because she knew herself to be too unreliable but whenever she saw one in the street she would always stop, stoop down and pet it. It is the closest thing to kindness that she can muster.
Oh, there is pain too, of course, but this is never something that she dwells on. She endures physical pain - no-one can live the way she does without being on the wrong end of the ire of a ham-fisted man but it never gets to her. She deals this pain too, a blow to the jaw, a kick to the crotch and she can come away the strong one. If she ever cries then it is at night, alone, in bed, where she can bury her face in her pillow and wail and still emerge triumphant.
There were those that thought Pamela was crazy. Perhaps they were right, perhaps she was. There were those that thought Pamela was spiteful. She was spiteful, she was, but it was always strength that drove her. She could survive anything if only by the skin of her teeth but she would always survive. That was what she did.
Pamela was a faerie from the folklore of old and she was wicked, flashing teeth and talons and temper.
Pamela was everything from imagination and beyond.
Pamela was everything but when she died, no-one could find the words to describe who she had been.
Pretty please comment. It will bring a smile to my face...and you know you want to make me smile!
Cross-posted to
miranda_fans.Enjoy!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-04-25 11:24 pm (UTC)This is perfect, I love the description of her as a faerie and I love the whole sex bit and I love the thing with the cats...Oh Moog, you is genius!!
And thanks for putting no blood in!!
xxxx
no subject
Date: 2006-04-26 07:50 pm (UTC)Thanks for the praise and calling me a genius! Not sure it's entirely deserved though ;) See, I remembered you asked for cats and girl!sex...so this is the result!
no subject
Date: 2006-04-26 07:20 pm (UTC)I haven't even seen 'Dance to the Music of Time' but now I feel obliged to buy it...arghhhh...I need money...
no subject
Date: 2006-04-26 07:45 pm (UTC)I don't think Dance... costs very much, I got it from Amazon for about £6 with post and package. It's good, you should buy it!
Wooo
Date: 2006-04-26 07:55 pm (UTC)Re: Wooo
Date: 2006-04-26 10:49 pm (UTC)How are you my darling??
*smiles inanely cos still loving the Pam fic*
no subject
Date: 2006-04-28 11:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-28 03:17 pm (UTC)Also thank you for the nice comment ;)