I woke up to the splash of cold water against my naked skin. My body instinctively thrashed trying to escape and the scream that rose in my throat was stifled by the thick leather strips that were gagging me. I was stretched out in an empty centurion charging bay. Manacles held my wrists high above my head and my legs were pulled apart and chained to the floor so that I was utterly trapped and helpless.
I hung there, drenched and shivering, trying to fight the rising panic and cast my gaze round the room, desperate to find a way out of my predicament. In the corner were two unfolded Centurion spheres, both facing away from me. Various scraps of metal were scattered around the small chamber. But, more pressingly, Mercer was there. He was stood by the spheres, inspecting them and deep in conversation with a hooded man in mage robes. Closer around me were the bandits I had snuck past earlier, each of them staring hungrily at my naked body. I couldn't help but whimper as my mind went into overload about what would happen next. At my whimper Mercer looked round, a cold predatory smile preying on his lips. Seeing that smile, my resolve hardened: I was the Dragonborn. I would not show fear. I will not break.
One of the bandits, the blonde dirt-covered Nord, stepped up to me and, in an almost gentle gesture, stroked my cheek before skimming down over my goose-pimpled flesh to one of my hardened nipples, "She's cold. Maybe we could warm her up a bit?" Hi thumb was softly rubbing the tender bud. Mercer's gaze flickered over my body and he nodded, "Go ahead, boys. Just remember the plan." One of the Orcs, the one wearing just a fur loincloth, picked up a vase from the low stone shelf. As he approached I caught the distinctive tang of dwemer machine oil. The orc poured the clear viscous liquid it contained over my body, clearly admiring the way the rivulets trickled down my skin, before starting to rub it into my skin. Other hands soon joined, as the remaining bandits gathered round, teasing my breasts, my stomach, the cleft of my legs and my arse, though they didn't touch my most private place. Yet. If I'd have shut my eyes, turned my mind off, been in any other place, any other time my body might have enjoyed it. Might have begun to respond to the strangely tender caresses. But I didn't want to shut myself off or give in. Instead I locked eyes with the bastard Frey over the shoulder of the Orc and glared defiantly at him. The hooded mage had moved over to one of the spheres and was poking around, muttering to himself, so Mercer was lounging against the wall watching my molestation with his habitually cold expression, though a darkening to his eyes suggested the sick bastard was enjoying himself. Behind me a finger worked its way down the cleft of my ass and hands pulled my cheeks apart, forcing me to break off eye contact as I thrashed in my chains trying to escape. The bandits merely laughed at my attempts and one of the bastards circled my puckered star with an oil covered finger before slapping me hard on the ass . Mercer, meanwhile had slipped off the wall and was now standing in front of me, his cronies pausing in their ministrations to watch. "What's the matter, little Nightingale? Haven't you ever had a man up there before?" I will not break. I glared at him, imagining all the myriad ways I would claim my vengeance. I will burn you and heal you and burn you…
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timeasmymeasure
Re: The Die is Cast 2/?
Date: 2013-05-12 01:43 pm (UTC)I hung there, drenched and shivering, trying to fight the rising panic and cast my gaze round the room, desperate to find a way out of my predicament. In the corner were two unfolded Centurion spheres, both facing away from me. Various scraps of metal were scattered around the small chamber. But, more pressingly, Mercer was there. He was stood by the spheres, inspecting them and deep in conversation with a hooded man in mage robes. Closer around me were the bandits I had snuck past earlier, each of them staring hungrily at my naked body. I couldn't help but whimper as my mind went into overload about what would happen next. At my whimper Mercer looked round, a cold predatory smile preying on his lips. Seeing that smile, my resolve hardened: I was the Dragonborn. I would not show fear. I will not break.
One of the bandits, the blonde dirt-covered Nord, stepped up to me and, in an almost gentle gesture, stroked my cheek before skimming down over my goose-pimpled flesh to one of my hardened nipples, "She's cold. Maybe we could warm her up a bit?"
Hi thumb was softly rubbing the tender bud. Mercer's gaze flickered over my body and he nodded, "Go ahead, boys. Just remember the plan."
One of the Orcs, the one wearing just a fur loincloth, picked up a vase from the low stone shelf. As he approached I caught the distinctive tang of dwemer machine oil. The orc poured the clear viscous liquid it contained over my body, clearly admiring the way the rivulets trickled down my skin, before starting to rub it into my skin. Other hands soon joined, as the remaining bandits gathered round, teasing my breasts, my stomach, the cleft of my legs and my arse, though they didn't touch my most private place. Yet.
If I'd have shut my eyes, turned my mind off, been in any other place, any other time my body might have enjoyed it. Might have begun to respond to the strangely tender caresses. But I didn't want to shut myself off or give in. Instead I locked eyes with the bastard Frey over the shoulder of the Orc and glared defiantly at him. The hooded mage had moved over to one of the spheres and was poking around, muttering to himself, so Mercer was lounging against the wall watching my molestation with his habitually cold expression, though a darkening to his eyes suggested the sick bastard was enjoying himself. Behind me a finger worked its way down the cleft of my ass and hands pulled my cheeks apart, forcing me to break off eye contact as I thrashed in my chains trying to escape. The bandits merely laughed at my attempts and one of the bastards circled my puckered star with an oil covered finger before slapping me hard on the ass . Mercer, meanwhile had slipped off the wall and was now standing in front of me, his cronies pausing in their ministrations to watch.
"What's the matter, little Nightingale? Haven't you ever had a man up there before?"
I will not break. I glared at him, imagining all the myriad ways I would claim my vengeance. I will burn you and heal you and burn you…
Damn character limits...