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Ish’talla Side
Andr'ial and Ati'yya
Chapter 01 : 02
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Pupiless white eyes stare out at the orange eyed male while the Siren he holds continues to struggle and cry within his grip, a pleased and rather satisfied look painting Andr’ial’s features while he watches him move frantically back and forth along the shores as the waters pull the boat farther and farther away before he finally turns from the scene to carry his catch back towards the cabin that’s waiting for him behind. “Quiet.” He tells her despite knowing she won’t understand, shifting her lithe body at his shoulder with a harsh little bump that’s meant to get his point across instead. Her cries continue uninterrupted and due to his ward, are starting to become more annoying to him than painful. She’ll learn her place soon enough though, in one way or another he’ll make her understand. Andr’ial moves quickly into his cabin and secures the door behind him before he drops her onto her feet. He’s already taken precautions; the windows are caged and warded along with similar magic that guards the door. The only way in or out of the room is by his own hand and so he feels rather safe in letting her down. The moment he’s relinquished his grip on her completely, she runs desperately towards the windows, trying to break them open with bound hands while clawing through the caged openings to bang at the glass as she continues to cry out for the others. The horned figure simply stands in his place in front of the door, watching his Siren’s futile attempts at an escape. Every movement she makes, even while frantic, is beautiful and graceful. Her body, her face, those long thick, sky colored locks, her deep blue slitted eyes… she’s flawless and he could probably sit and watch her move for hours without ever tiring of what he sees. She’s better than any auctioned Siren he’s ever seen. Her condition is perfect and he can’t help smiling to himself at his achievement. He can’t wait to get her back on land and show her off. The others will be so jealous… he may even lend her out if it suits him and he knows that his status within high society is about to become elevated beyond his original aspirations with this female he’s caught. Though… before he can delve too deeply into what’s to come, she will need to be tamed as he cannot have her this kind of hysterical in public. He wrinkles his nose slightly. He’ll also have to do something about that odor, she smells of sea life. Bound hands beat furiously against warded windows, webbed fingers continuously trying to rip at the cages that cover while the silver haired man looks on from behind until her skin begins to break beneath the metal, her cries and shrieks gaining her nothing as the boat moves farther from the shores of her home where the voice of her living suitor has long since fallen silent. After what feels like an eternity, she starts to tire despite herself and she reaches out to wrap restrained fingers around the meshing, sinking just slightly down while her heavy breaths soon replace her calls. She isn’t sure how long she stands where she is grasping tightly against the metal with cracked and bleeding hands, wishing… hoping that the nightmare she’s found herself in will end soon, that she’ll wake to find herself back where she was with both her suitors alive and somewhere near. But footfalls pull her back to the reality of the situation and she lets out a shriek when a clawed hand touches at her hair before she rips webbed fingers free of their places, swinging around blindly in an attempt to lash out at her captor. A soft sound is pulled from Andr’ial’s throat when tiny claws skim across the surface of his skin, a line of crimson left in her hands wake. For a moment he’s still, white eyes staring into defiant blue before he suddenly backhands her hard and sends her small frame crashing onto the polished wooden floor. “You will learn your place, Siren.” He touches at the small streaks of blood, frowning as he looks down at the red on his hand. A small stream of word leaves him right after, the magic he speaks healing the cuts instantly. As soon as the female gains her footing, she lashes out a second time only to be knocked back before she ever has a chance to contact and his frown deepens when she hits the floor again. His Siren is proving to be an irritating pet thus far and it’s starting to look like he’ll have a long road ahead of him to get her trained properly. He sighs to himself before reaching over to the table and the adornments contained on its top. Clawed fingers wrap around the enchanted metal mask and chained collar before turning back to the petite woman as she’s working to pick herself up once more. “I had hoped I would not have to do this, but you leave me little choice.” He reaches down and lifts her completely up by the bindings around her wrists, ignoring her kicks and yelps as he’s pulling her to her feet. Slipping the knife he’d taken back from the captain free of his boot, he uses it to slice through the rope and before she has a chance to take advantage of the freedom he’s given her, he quickly wrenches her arms behind her body and rebinds her wrists to prevent her from lashing out all over again. She fights hard against him as he secures the ties, her lithe frame unwillingly pressing against his through every thrash she makes and a spark of fierce desire rushes through him from the contact, the horned man finding it near impossible to keep himself still and not take her right then and there simply to show her immediately whom her master is. As much as he desires it, he will force himself to wait. He has plenty of time for that later and he fully intends to make the most of it. Andr’ial spins his Siren around, pulling her back against him before bringing the mask up to cover her face. After multiple attempts between her struggles he finally manages to slide it on, securing it around webbed ears before a stream of words activates the spell that will keep it in place, followed shortly after by the collar and length of shining chain. Clawed fingers pull back and gently move sky blue hair away from her neck, unable to help himself from leaning in to press his lips against cold, wet skin. “You are mine now.” He says with quiet words he knows are lost on her. The blue haired Siren continues her futile struggle against the man that holds her so tightly, the mask that covers her mouth stifling and far too hot while her bound hands make her movements nearly pointless. She cries out beneath it, disbelief washing over her when she finds her voice silenced by the suffocating scrolled metal. The horned figure’s lips continue to skim over the surface of her skin, gentle despite the harshness of his grip around her body. She hates it, hates the feel of his touch and she thrashes hard against him to show just how much she wants to be let free. It takes little time though to realize that every protesting movement she makes serves only to excite her captor further and once she does, she stills completely in a desperate hope that it will stop. White eyes meet terrified slitted blue when Andr’ial slips back just a little in order to get a better look at what he holds and slowly that same pupiless gaze begins a thorough sweep down the lines of her lithe frame to take in every bit of water slickened skin and each perfect curve held within his hands. Time seems to slip away from her as she remains as immobile as she possibly can, unable to stop the fierce beating of her heart or the rapid breaths that cause her chest to rise and fall in swift progressions. She’s scared, more so than she’s ever been in her life -scared of what this creature intends and scared for the look in his eyes as he watches her. It’s a hunger she’s never quite seen before, not even in the eyes of her suitors and she’d do anything to make the look go away. Before long, a pleased grin is forming on his lips and a moment later Andr’ial pulls away, letting her go. Turning to move towards the door, a clawed hand reaches back to grasp onto the collar’s chain and he pulls her quickly along with him . Speaking the words to deactivate the ward around the entrance, the horned figure drags her out into the sunlight immediately with a few harsh yanks. The men of the crew stop their tasks to look at her the moment they are out on the deck, their leering eyes moving over slick skin in the exact same ways his had done. Andr’ial smiles to himself as he pulls the bound Siren along, finding a sense of smug satisfaction in them desiring what is his before a streak of possessiveness rises up to take him over. Stopping his footfalls breifly, he removes his robe and throws it over her narrow shoulders to cover and hide her body from their view. The men scoff at the action as they watch the silver haired man continue along with the Siren in tow, annoyed at being barred from taking in such a rare sight. After all they’ve been through during this campaign and the shipmates they’ve lost; they would like to think they should at least get a little look... Andr’ial ignores their protesting sounds and disapproving looks, simply finding his way to the stairs that will lead him to the deck below. She stops at the base of the steps as he’s continuing down, trying hard to pull away again only to have him respond by yanking on the chain in a way that sends her nearly falling down after him. Within the room lies a large container filled with fresh water and to the side of it, various soaps and brushes he’d made sure to have bought along while preparing for this very thing. He had spoken with a man before his journey who had once done a Siren auction and he’d talked of how necessary it was to clean them before they were put up for sale because the odor of the sea was often overwhelming, making them less than desirable. While this female’s scent wasn't overwhelming in any way like he’d been told it could be, it was definitely not something he’d prefer to be surrounded by. So he will wash her, clean the smell of the oceans from her skin and replace her scent with that of his own. Everything of her former life he will replace until she knows nothing else but him. “In.” He points to the tub, dragging her over a moment later when she doesn’t comply and forcing her into the water. Andr’ial grabs a bottle of soap and a sponge, pouring the contents over her head before working it into a thick lather. He finds he needs to scrub harder than he’d like to remove the natural film that covers her, the redness from the washing showing quickly on her skin . She fights him even while bound, doing everything in her power to pull away from his touch but each of her protests are met with sharp yanks of the chain while he continues about his task, taking his time to move the sponge over the various curves and indents of her body. Reaching his Siren’s breasts, his movements slow considerably in order to explore and she jerks her lithe frame back in another attempt to escape the touch only to fall onto the arms still tied behind her, soapy water flying up and splashing over the container’s edge as long legs flail into the air. Andr’ial pulls the chain at her neck towards him hard, sending her petite body slipping through the liquid until her rear hits the tub wall. Her knees lock over the edges right after and he pulls the chain again in order to lift the upper part of her figure free. Long sky colored strands slick away from her face, the ends floating across the water’s surface as white eyes seek out both defiant and scared blue. Her captor holds her partially suspended before him for a few tense moments longer before a predatory sort of smile forms on his mouth and he reaches forward to touch the sponge in his hand to her flesh once again. She’s already starting to smell more like his own and it pleases him greatly… the more he cleans her the less the smell of the oceans taint her beautiful skin. Once they are done here, he will take her back to his cabin, oil her body and braid her hair. As pretty and shiny as her locks are, the messy strands only obscure her perfect figure from his eyes and he doesn’t like it. He wants to see as much of her as he can at all times. Leaning in to resume his task, he murmurs to her soothingly, speaking in soft words of all the things he will do with her and all the claims upon her body he will make, telling her how she will eventually learn to welcome his touch. Andr’ial doesn’t care if she ever understands what he says, he needs her only to understand his actions and he will make sure they speak loud and very clear. “Such a female as exquisite as you will not go unnoticed. You are better than anything I could have hoped for. You are a gift from the gods above.” He smiles. “I believe I will name you… Ati’yya. My gift.” Andr’ial finds himself very pleased at the name he’s chosen as he feels it very suiting. Reaching over to pick up a small pitcher from the wooden surface nearby, he dips into the container soon after. Holding it up, he pours the water slowly over her head and watches as it causes her hair to cling to her body one more. With every rinse, her old sea-dwelling self is being washed away to be replaced with the purity of cleanliness. The horned man sets the pitcher back down and leans over, taking in her scent once more. She smells like his own now and it’s making him so happy. Sky blue locks are pulled away from Ati’yya’s face as he wrings them free of water before he twists them into a knot loosely secured above her head. He stand her up quickly by yanking on the chain while ignoring her continued protests before he wraps her up in his robe once more and pushes her towards the stairs and the direction his own cabin . There’s a sinking sort of feeling blossoming in the pit of the Siren’s stomach as she’s dragged up the stairs and back out into the evening light, subjected to another bout of leering stares from the crew while they pass despite the cloth that covers her. It’s the way the silver haired man continues to touch her, the way he looks at her with those pupiless white eyes… she doesn’t need to understand his language to understand what those gestures all mean. It fills her with dread, the desire she sees in his light gaze scares her to the point of panic. She’ll never consent to take him on as a mate, never, and the closer they draw back to his room, the greater her fear of his intentions in that regard is growing. She tries to escape again as she’s pulled closer, but she’s growing so tired and all her fighting is finally starting to wear on her limbs so when he simply yanks her towards him, she finds herself stumbling forward at an alarming degree. Clawed hands reach out to catch her as she nearly crashes against him and a moment later she’s pulled into the plush cabin, a stream of magic words securing the room the instant they are both inside. The single horned man pulls away from her and moves somewhere off to the side, Ati’yya taking the opportunity to attempt to anchor herself on the polished wooden floor by sinking down onto her knees only to be pulled easily back up before she can touch. She’s dragged over to the lush bed and practically thrown against the soft surface, the robe that covers her quickly ripped away and the glass bottle in Andr’ial’s hand uncapped right after. He pours some oil into his hands, warming it slightly before his fingers reach out to move across her body. Ati’yya flinches at every renewed touch and the claw tipped fingers that glide easily across soft, clean flesh. Andr’ial smiles at his bound Siren’s reactions before moving her hair to drape across her shoulder in order to expose the lines of her back. He takes his time to cover every inch and the more she flinches away, the longer he chooses to linger. She will get used to his touch soon enough, he will make sure she does. Once he has finished spreading the oil over her back, the horned man pulls her against him, renewing the oil in his hands before sliding them across her abdomen and down over her thighs while taking great care with the soft flesh in-between her legs. His smile widens a little, finding himself slightly amused as she attempts to remove his access by clamping them shut. Andr’ial allows her the indiscretion for now, simply sliding his hands up to her breasts and tracing delicately over every curve. “You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen… and you are all mine.” He whispers against her skin, kissing her lightly on the shoulder before his claws move to her hair. Taking a moment to comb through the wet locks that hang across her frame, he forms a loose braid then pins it to the top of her head. His Ati’yya will be gorgeous once she is adorned and wrapped in silk, more so than she is without it. The time Andr’ial has been taking to clean and oil her is proving to be too much for him, his desire for his Siren growing impossible to ignore and so he slides away just a little and pours more oil into his hand before he removes his grip on her body. Moving swiftly for the ties of his own pants, he frees hardened flesh from its fabric confines as she looks on in sheer horror. He knows she will not be ready for this but it’s something she has no choice over. He wants her with every ounce of his being, he cannot remember the last time he was this turned on. Spreading the oil in his hand over his length, he moans out slightly from the sensations before quickly yanking on the chain to pull Ati’yya back against the silken sheets a little roughly. Ignoring her struggles as he climbs over the top of her, he pries her legs open and works his way in-between. She attempts to move herself away but he holds her still, one hand securing her to the bed by the neck while the other holds himself steady in the anticipation. Her terrified blue slitted gaze stares up into lust filled white and she manages a slight shaking of her head seconds before he shifts his hips up to take her in one harsh thrust. Andr’ial’s eyes roll back as the tight, burning heat envelops him, his moan breathlessly low. She has never lain with a male and he is almost finding it more than he can bear. Ati’yya’s own eyes clamp shut, her cries of pain lost within the magic of the mask as the one above her remains buried so deeply inside of her that she feels like she’s tearing in two. It hurts more than anything she’s ever felt before and just when she thinks she might go insane from the agony alone, Andr’ial begins to pull mercifully away. But that mercy lasts only until the very tip of his excitement is nearly free before another hard push snaps him so deeply inside that she fears she’ll shatter. Panting moans begin to slip from the horned man’s mouth as he moves and with one hand still securing the chain at her neck, the other wraps tightly around her slender waist in order to pull her body in even closer. Tears well up behind closed lids and spill down lightly tanned cheeks, her pleading words silenced and lost as he repeats the motions time and time again, the harshening pace growing quicker with every new thrust that sends him into a heat so scorching that he won’t be surprised if he catches fire. A long and deeply satisfied moan spills from Andr’ial’s lips as he thrusts in a final time, falling swiftly into the intense folds of release. He grips onto his Siren tightly as he rides out the final waves, happier than he’s been in a long time. This moment has been several years in the making and it did not disappoint in the slightest so he’s savoring it for as long as he can. His pleasure is interrupted by a soft trembling beneath him though and white eyes open, sliding down to find tears of pain slipping from closed lids. Andr’ial smiles and leans down to kiss them gently, sliding back only a little to whisper near a webbed ear. “You have done well and I am happy. You will understand soon enough… my beautiful Ati’yya .” |
