If you'd taken Giri out to tea (or perhaps a lot of sake) and asked her how she imagined this going, it was not this. She certainly had not imagined answering for her wrongs and the wrongs of her profession tied up with a scion of the dominion held close to her. But even if you'd posed this exact scenario, what she'd have told you over drinks was that she wanted to be strong, stoic, willing to accept what fate had dealt her and face her fate with dignity and grace. 

Which makes the deep blush coursing its way through Giri's whole body all the more difficult to bear. She can speak but she has no words as Red Wolf drapes herself over Giri's body. The weight of her and the warmth, gosh it's so much! Red Wolf is far more than mortal and the blood of the dragons coursing through her makes Giri's heart flutter. It's heat and touch, pressure along her back and shoulders, almost like a stone massage. Her muscles loosen and the sound that escapes her mouth is a sign of pleasure. 

It almost hurts. In her head there is pain and apology, and more than a little indignation, but her body wants only to relax into the ropes and the grip, for Red Wolf to dig those talons of hers deeper under Giri's chin and stroke the neck just shy of drawing blood. She wants Red Wolf to hold her whole head and bury it between her thighs. She wants it all, and she can't even move or see. 

"I'm sorry" she says and through her pleasure it barely sounds like she means it, but she does. Perhaps Red Wolf is so experienced in such matters of physical pleasure that she knows what it sounds like when someone sincerely means what they're saying yet sounds silly because of the pressures their body is putting on them. Or perhaps she expects the impossible out of Giri and wants dignified respect even as she drunkenly wraps herself about her captive. If so, she will be disappointed. 

Through her sighs and her cuddles, Giri does eventually manage to get out a few sentences though. "It was the only way I could think of for a spell to get such a big group out of the hells. I didn't want to hurt Piripiri but it was the only way I know. I wasn't strong enough to do better, please tell her I'm sorry." And then a moment later, after she's had a chance to just breathe and can speak again, "I finished your first request. The spirits are calm, and Peregrine, the witch who was doing that spell, she's busy elsewhere now."

That's as much as she has to offer. Even getting that much out through the teasing has her panting, and it's obvious she's at war with herself not to simply moan and beg Red Wolf for more. She wants more. She wants it bad. If Red Wolf would just massage her back and work one of those hands further down and down she'd lose all thought entirely. 

And here's the thing: she's letting Red Wolf know it, her body responding to every touch and pressure with sharp breaths and moans she can't hold back. That hand works its way so carefully along her back, first lightly, then harder, pressing on the muscles and pushing against the knots. Giri lets out a low moan of pleasure and leans in as much as the ropes will allow her. That hand keeps moving down, down over the lower back and to the butt squeezing her cheeks tightly and then lower still as Giri lets go of all words and relaxes into the Red Wolf's ministrations.

[Giri is rolling to entice the Red Wolf. 4+2+2-2=6. A miss.]