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Ish’talla Side
Andr'ial and Ati'yya
Chapter 01 : 04
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Blackness enshrouds her like a heavy blanket she can’t lift away from her lithe frame. She attempts to surface, the gentle swaying of the boat soothing and calling her back up. But there’s something keeping her down, a deep sort of weight that traps her and soon she can feel her mind slipping away from her body again as she drifts back into the blissfulness of a forced sleep. Eventually a warmth is beckoning her once more, the soft touch of hands moving over her body and heated breath washing across her skin. Webbed fingers slide heavily up, the lead that weighs her movements making it difficult to lift her hand at all. Somehow she manages to do it though, shifting towards the source of the movements to land on a strong and built chest. Is this one of her suitors touching her now? Somehow she thinks it just might be and she’s sure she knows which one. The touch the orange eyed male always lends her is as soft as this touch is right now, exploring fingers that make her feel something deep inside that she’s never felt before. Whenever she does manage to work her eyes open, she’ll have to be sure to scold him for his indiscretions since she hasn’t officially chosen between the two. This will only lead to more fighting between them, the truce they’d made will be lost and she isn’t ready to be forced into a decision just yet when she enjoys being near them both. Hands travel up along her abdomen and a strange scent fills her nose, the sweet smell of perfumes that are foreign to her. She rolls her head up without ever reopening her eyes and the melodic chime and a heavy weight that accompanies the movement causes a fair amount of confusion to streak through her mind. There’s the tickle of long strands at her skin moments before lips touch her own, the nip at her mouth forcing hers open just slightly before the taste of another fills her senses. She furrows her brows at the intrusion as it’s out of character for her suitor. He has touched her before, but he’s never crossed the line now being crossed. Slowly slitted eyes crack open as clawed fingers cup full breasts, Ati’yya snapping instantly into awareness when she finds not her suitor leaning above her, but her horned captor instead. Before she can strike at him Andr’ial grasps her hands and holds them in place at his chest. He does not want that moment to die just yet. Her fingers are cold but soothing on his skin and he was enjoying the way she was touching him in her sleepy haze; something of which he hopes she will do again of her own volition. But instead Ati’yya screams, her voice unhindered by a mask now gone and she panics as she finds it does nothing to the one above her. He takes a finger and places it lightly over her lips to silence her, offering the scared Siren a pleased sort of smile. “Your voice, little fish, will do nothing to me.” The horned man pulls his hand away to lift the hair that covers the back of his neck, revealing an intricately tattooed ward briefly before retuning his gaze to hers. “You cannot harm me. And it appears…” He smiles. “It is infinitely harder to harm you than I expected. I was told of your species healing abilities, but to see it for myself…” His fingers travel down over the line of her hip and between her legs, chuckling as she gasps in shock from the touch. “It seems as if our lessons can go on, unhindered.” Andr’ial pulls his hand away and returns it to her own as his attention shifts to her delicately webbed fingers. “What interesting creatures you are…” The Siren watches in wide eyed fear as white eyes trace over the thin membranes in-between tapered fingers, Andr’ial turning her wrist slowly in his grip to stare at the highlighted skin that’s lit softly by the sun shining in through barred windows. Her chest rises and falls rapidly and while she’s free of the stifling mask she’s still finding it rather hard to breathe. For only a moment she’d believed she was back on those limestone rocks, sunbathing the same way she’s done every day of her life -content, happy and surrounded by those of her own kind… instead she wakes to find the night before to be a cruel reality, one she desperately wishes will go away. The silver haired man’s gaze finally slips away from her hands and back to her slitted own a moment before he leans in again to steal another taste of her lips. She makes a muffled sort of protest as she purses her lips together tight, attempting to rip her head away by jerking it off to the side. The horned figure frowns, letting her wrists go in order to wrap one clawed hand around her jaw to yank her head back up while the other moves beneath one of her thighs. Andr’ial pries her legs apart, placing himself in between and watching as her eyes widen in horror. “You are capable of handling far more than I gave you credit for, do not make me test those limits as I will happily do so. A kiss, little fish, is what I want and it will happen either easily or with pain.” He moves his hand behind her head to keep it still as he moves forward again, the growing excitement he feels touching her inner thigh. With every small protest she makes, he pushes closer to violation and only backs away when she calms. Several tries later it seems she finally understands and reluctantly allows him near. Her lips still purse, but she does not pull away entirely as he stops attempting to enter despite the desire to he feels to simply claim her all over again. “There is my good Siren…” His lips brush hers and he places his kiss with little protest, moving away soon after. Webbed fingers slide up to her mouth as Andr’ial is sliding away, the back of her shaking hand wiping at the place his lips had touched hers, an action that causes the one above to frown deeply. A moment later she yelps when her wrist is gripped harshly and her fingers are wrenched away, scared blue eyes shifting up to meet sharp pupiless white. A command is given that she doesn’t understand, words edged with annoyance and anger quickly punctuated when hard flesh pushes all too close at the velvet skin of her inner thighs once again. A pleading whimper escapes her, Ati’yya shaking her head just slightly before she stills when the command is repeated. The silver haired figure then tightens the grip on her wrists and leans down to renew the kiss she’d just wiped away. Her lips purse but she allows it, finding she’d rather take this touch than be violated further. But this time the horned man only smirks at her tight lipped response, suddenly shifting his body up while his free hand slides down to anchor at narrow hips until he’s almost forced his way inside. Full lips part when the tip of his excitement begins to rip at delicate flesh, the pained cry about to escape her quickly muffled when Andr’ial seizes the opening and presses his own against hers to take a real kiss from her mouth. Her lips are so soft, better than anything he could imagine and while he forces the kiss deeper, he’s finding it near impossible not to close the gap between their bodies and claim the waiting heat meant only for him. Andr’ial knows she wants to fight it and push him away, but it also seems she is learning that the alternative in not doing what he wishes means a pain she’d rather not bear. It’s all very simple, he thinks. Though, he wasn’t expecting this much training would need to be done. She is a wild animal after all, so it shouldn’t surprise him. The only Sirens he’s met have had years of discipline and conditioning. His uncle’s… she would drop to her knees at their presence, ready and willing for any command. She’s the one that made him so jealous but his Ati’yya will surpass that by the time he’s done and make all others envious. Her beauty alone will cause a stir. Andr’ial smiles into the kiss as he envisions it, ignoring the fact that it’s not being returned. The blue haired Siren tries so hard to withstand the touch while it happens, the continued reminder of pressing flesh and the pain it will cause keeping her from pulling her mouth free. The one above finally slides away, pleased white eyes soon staring back down into slitted blue as a wide grin is given and more words she can’t understand are being spoken to her. She continues to tremble softly beneath the silver haired man’s grip and even though she doesn’t dare look away or even move, all of her attention is centered on the tight hold at her hips and Andr’ial’s closeness below. But even as she tries to brace for the incoming pain when he doesn’t pull away, the hand that had been wrapped around her body slips free and up to brush lovingly at her sky blue locks moments before a thoughtful look shifts across his features. Finally, he lets her wrist go while pulling his other hand free of long strands before the horned man suddenly pushes back before he slides off the bed in order to retrieve an inlaid bone comb from the nearby table’s surface followed by a few strands of chain. He returns and seats himself behind her to push her small body up, clawed fingers sliding under the nape of her neck to pull long strands of blue behind her shoulders and allowing them to cascade down her back. The comb slides into the ends and he begins working out the tangles before moving it up higher. Each time he pulls her hair away, Andr’ial catches a glimpse of his Siren’s beautiful back and the perfect lines of lightly tanned skin. A tattoo would serve her well, one that follows along her curves … The tip of a clawed finger traces down her spine briefly before he returns to his task, slowly making his way through shining locks. When they arrive home, he will find servants to do this so that every day she will be made beautiful just for him. Though he prefers to do her bathing and oiling himself and will most likely keep those exclusively as his own. Once all of the Siren’s sky colored locks have been smoothed, the horned man takes a length of chain and attaches it at her crown, parting smaller divisions of hair to put them off to the side. The chain is soon woven into braids and the braids used to secure the length of her hair atop her head, leaving only small strands hanging down to frame her spine. He rises after he has completed his task, turning her around to face him and the smile on Andr’ial’s lips widens as he stares at her, reveling in the thought of how she’s growing more beautiful with every touch and how the collar around her neck accentuates her innocence. The weight is terrible as she stares up at him, the chains making her hair so heavy that she feels like she’ll collapse under it all. But again she forces herself into stillness as pleased white eyes look down, hopeful that with the smile the horned man is giving her he might take her out into the open again soon. She can feel the sun shining through those barred windows, it soaks into her back and she longs for it, longs for the ocean that reaches her ears as well. When she breaks out she’ll take these objects from her body, allow her hair free to blow in the breeze and swim as far away from these terrible creatures as she possibly can. She just has to bide her time and find a way to get him to bring her back onto that deck… An idea forms from the thought and webbed fingers slide up to her mouth to motion at her lips, asking in her language for food or water. When her shrill words aren’t understood, she tries again, tilting her head back as her hand moves to her throat. Blue slitted eyes never leave the silver haired figure’s gaze while she attempts to find a way her captor will understand, but Andr’ial simply looks down at her in slight confusion while she continues making high pitched little sounds and motioning towards her mouth and neck. This communication thing is going to be a problem because he doesn’t understand anything she’s attempting to get across. It dawns on him that he doesn’t know the last time she would have eaten anything and even assuming it had been right before her capture, it would still have been well over a day ago. Which… is most likely what she’s trying to say. The horned man rises and walks over to a pitcher of water set on the table, picking it and a glass up before bringing it back to his Ati’yya. He would prefer she want wine as the water stored on this boat is not the cleanest but he’s sure it will be something they will need to work up to because he can’t imagine Sirens would understand the concept of distilling. Andr’ial pours water into the glass, handing it to Ati’yya and watching as she grasps onto to it clumsily, bringing the liquid to her lips and drinking as if she had been in a desert for days. He smirks as she does this, because if he were ever to bring her to his sister’s territory she would understand what life was really like without water. The horned man refills her glass several times before she seems satisfied and once she is, she points again to her mouth in what he can only assume is an indication for food. Nodding slightly, he rises and walks to the cabin door, opening it in order to call out to the ship’s crew for some fish. Ati’yya seizes her opportunity when the ocean beyond the deck fills her sight and she runs forward, pushing past her captor in an attempt to escape and be free. Andr’ial grabs hold of the chain as it rushes past him and yanks back hard, pulling his Siren completely off her feet and sending her falling into the rough wood of the deck flat onto her back. A strangled cry of surprise and pain leaves her throat and soon she finds herself being dragged back towards the cabin. Webbed fingers dig their small claws into the wood in an attempt to stop him from pulling her further away from the ocean, but she lacks the strength in comparison to him. The anger on Andr’ial’s face is clear and he curses to himself. He should have known better than to think he’d been able to train her so quickly. He had almost lost his prize possession because of his own refusal to be cautious and never again will something like that happen. She screams as she’s gripped by the collar, her voice sending one of the crew members who had forgotten to wear their protection down to his knees in pain and he attempts to block it by grabbing onto the sides of his head. The silver haired figure drags Ati’yya completely into the cabin, grabbing the mask and forcing it over her face even as she continues to fight him. The horned man slams her onto the cabin floor right after the spell is spoken that will secure the scrollwork metal in place, pinning her down and holding her wrists together across her chest. “Let me show you what happens when you misbehave…” Andr’ial’s free hand moves to unbind himself from the confines of his pants, spreading her legs roughly and forcing himself between before he grabs onto her jaw. “Let me show everyone…” He wrenches her face towards the open cabin door where the members of the crew stand gawking at them. The tip of hardened flesh touches at sensitive skin and she gasps in fear, understanding all too quickly before she begins pleading behind her mask for him not to do what he’s about to do. Behind them, leering eyes watch in anticipation and crude men lick their lips as they wait patiently for the show they are about to receive. Andr’ial bides his time, staring down into terror filled slitted eyes and alowing the moment to linger for them all before he pushes into Ati’yya with one violent thrust. She screams in pain behind the mask, her voice never making it beyond the metal. Glittering chain at both her neck and hair clink against the hardwood floor as she whips her head back, sky colored eyes clamping shut as long legs kick at her tormentor while he begins slamming hard flesh into her body time and time again. Behind them the ship’s crew continue to gather and watch the scene they are being shown, the sounds of their leering voices commingling with the panting from the one above. She fights despite the pain from the tears his flesh make in her unprepared own, her screams silenced no matter how much she cries. Every time she kicks, Andr’ial only thrusts into her harder, every thrash is met with a tighter grip of her wrists in ways that pull louder lust filled sounds from the men standing somewhere beyond the cabin door. Every second of her torture seems to stretch on for eternity, every moment of agony threatens to drive her insane and just when she doesn’t think she can take it anymore, he pushes into blood slickened velvet with one final jolt that signals his release and the end. Heavy breaths leave the horned man’s lips as he remains buried far inside while he stares down at the Siren beneath him, refusing to immediately pull his body away. Tears streak her pretty features, silenced sobs wracking her lithe frame and those slitted blue eyes clamped tightly shut. She whimpers as he sits back on his knees and reaches out behind him, the sounds of the audience’s protests muffled when clawed fingers swing the door closed. “I should give you to them for a day, then you will see…” He speaks quietly into the stifling air of the cabin. “They would do far worse to you.” But he does not trust them to be smart enough to prevent her from escaping and he’d rather not lose his Siren after everything he’s gone through to attain her. Andr’ial pulls away, leaving Ati’yya on the floor where she lay, sobbing in order to retreat to his bed and lay down, turning his head away to look out of the barred windows. He wishes her to know the disappointment he feels, that no sympathy will be given and her attempts at escape will not be tolerated. If this is how she thanks him for trying to obtain food for her, then she will starve until she learns better. She will be bolted to the floor to prevent escape. In one way or another, he will make sure she understands that she belongs to him. He sighs before rising to grab a small basin filled with water and a rag, placing it in front of her to allow her to clean herself. Clawed hands reach for her chain, ignoring her close lidded flinches of fear as he runs it through a hook in the floor, sealing the lock with magic to prevent her from moving more than three feet in any direction. He is growing tired of training and he feels he needs a short break so he turns away from his Siren and moves to lay back down on the bed, Andr’ial turns his face away from Ati’yya once more and closes his white gaze, attempting to sleep for the remainder of the afternoon. Even after the horned man’s breathing has slowed, the Siren doesn’t move for a very long time, too hurt and weak from the abuse to do anything beyond cry. For over an hour she lays where she is, the trickle of blood running down her inner thighs slowing to a stop as the abrasions inside of her begin to mend all on their own. Blue eyes slide open once the sobbing has finally stopped to stare up at the cabin’s low ceiling through blurry tear riddled vision. She’s in a nightmare she would have never thought could exist… two sun’s rotations ago she was happy, she had suitors and freedom, she had the water all around her and the warmth shining down at her from above. These men with their blank eyes and rough hands, they were only tales told for boredom, rumors to scare the children but nothing she’d ever seen for herself. And now… now this horned one has ripped her away from her home, taken her freedom, violated her over and over and shown her nothing but harshness and pain. She can still feel him inside of her, hear those others’ strange voices and for the first time in her life she’s learning what it is to feel shame. Webbed fingers slip away from her chest and up to the mask at her face, Ati’yya weakly tearing at it as an overwhelming surge of loathing shifts through her lithe frame. But the magic keeps it secured and she only succeeds in shredding her own skin. Blood splatters as her movements become frantic and a second later she’s lifted her body up to start ripping at the adornments in her hair instead when her attempts to free herself from the scrolled metal prove futile. Bits of chain fly onto the hardwood floor, long sky blue locks spilling free and down over narrow shoulders as she turns her rage on the collar and magically infused leash. She pulls back hard, her feet kicking over the basin of water in her frenzy as she screams silently behind the muzzle while she yanks again and again and again until the metal has cut deep into her palms. Frustrated beyond reason, she rips her blood soaked fingers away from her tether and crouches over to slam her small fists against the wooden floor over and over until the adrenalin finally begins to slip away, leaving her exhausted from the effort. Flowing hair frames her battered body and slitted eyes clamp shut once again as she finally crouches over, the sobs that wrack her delicate frame as she touches her forehead to the cabin beneath her lasting a long while afterwords until the exertion begins to catch up with her and she slips off into a deep sleep. |
