Witchy Crime (Umai) [Completed]

[William the Bloody]

Her grip tightened on the wheel, the slight discoloration of her hands revealed the pressure utilized. A revelation that wasn't quite hidden despite her best efforts. The tactile sensation beneath his hand changed as small bumps rose beneath his fingers. It was difficult to halt your body from betraying your inner most thoughts and emotions. And his hand was on the pulse of [member="Umai"], a subtle gesture that was innocent on the surface, but afforded a closer knowledge of the woman sitting next to him. Eyes opened once more and his head lazily turned taking in her profile.

Her words were another crafted maneuver, one he appreciated. It had been some time since he had this much amusement. And the young man bored easily. One of the cons of being the smartest one in the room at any given moment. Yet he wasn't omniscient, he didn't know everything. Not that he would ever allow that sentiment be spoken allowed. He thrived on knowing everything, everyone. The knowledge of the strength and weaknesses gave him unimaginable power through leverage. And Umai wanted to know more of her mother. It was a useful bargaining chip to utilize.

"Almost flattered? Why, Ms Umai, that sounds awfully close to being a compliment."

His playful banter was an attempt to pull her in as his hand warmed against her thigh. A smile and warmth reflected within his eyes as he turned slightly for a better view of the witchy beauty. Of course he never gave without also taking away. A gentle caress before a well placed slap.

"In the grand scale of the cosmos, you matter not. You have no worth to the galactic vision save for a stellar body that could leave one desirous to know the contours of your feminine charm."

His grip tightened on the inner thigh as a sign that perhaps, he found her very appealing and attractive. His gesture a physical revelation that he wanted her. But then, as he had given her something of value, it was time to take it once more. He moved his hand from her and shifted away, an almost bored expression revealed as he looked away onto his side of the speeder.

"However this is Ryloth. Such carnal pleasure to rival and exceed the offer you have is easily found. Any urge that your visage illicits is easily remedied by having several of my twilek dancers waiting for me in my bed when I return. Because I am a man of immense appetite that a single woman, such as yourself, could never satisfy."

Ahead the massive iron gayes of a cemetery quickly approached. Turning his head he allowed an insatiable look of hunger to cross his features, lips parted to be moistened by the tip of his tongue as he greedily ran his eyes over her body with no attempt to hide the feral features. Then the look eased away as he gave a dismissive shrug. Nodding ahead to the gates he spoke, all trace of physical desire once worn completely eradicated in his voice.

"We have arrived my little slave."

Opening the door of the speeder once it had stopped he moved to the iron gates, waiting for her to follow him, as was his intended desire. He didn't offer any information for their arrival at this destination.

 

[Valgærd]

I was William’s new toy, it seemed. The new fawn tossed into the lion’s den. He was inspecting me, studying me, seeing how much of a distraction I’d provide from the mundane drag of life before he would devour me. I shivered, burying the thought with a grimace. He replied, warning that my words sounded almost like a compliment. I flicked him a subtle glance,

“Almost.”

I repeated only the one word of his. Almost flattered, almost a compliment… almost ready to admit that I was enjoying the sensation of his hand on my thigh. I pursed my lips, banishing the thought. There was no way it hadn’t been planned, no way he wasn’t strategically using it to secure his victory. No way.

His next words proved me right, the man speaking about how little I mattered as easily as he let me know how attractive he found me. As he did, his hand left my thigh, the air cooler upon that spot than the rest of my leg, as if a harsh emphasis that the pleasurable feeling was now gone. He mentioned that he could have any number of twi’lek dancers waiting for him in his bed when he returned. As the speeder roared on, I pursed my lips. That stung. I hated that it stung. Why did I care what this man did with his time? Why was I so invested in his opinion of me? Why did I care whether I could sate that hunger?

But as the thoughts swirled in my mind, torturing me, another surfaced, one that turned my grimace into a smirk,

“You could,” I replied slyly, “but no, the flesh of no single woman will ever satisfy you. You don’t have a twi’lek sitting on your lap right now because they bore you. They bore you even while they’re doing what you ask, don’t they? Because they don’t stimulate your mind. You could have any number of twi’leks waiting at your feet when you return, but you’ll feel empty and dissatisfied with them because they cannot engage your wit… like I can.”

As I finished speaking, our apparent destination loomed as the speeder chirped. I slowed down, coming to a stop and turning off the engine as William spoke again, calling me his ‘little slave’. My breath caught in my throat. I vehemently squashed the tiny spark of exhilaration that that word sent racing through my body. No. No way was that something that excited me. Nope. Instead, I let out a controlled breath, steadying myself as I exited the speeder.

As William waited by the gates I walked up to join him. To say anything would be to acknowledge that title he’d bestowed on me. So instead, I met his gaze, something a slave would certainly not do, and nodded slightly.

Whatever awaited us in this cemetery, I was about to find out.


[member="William the Bloody"]

 

[William the Bloody]

To say her rebuttal was unexpected would be an apt statement. Her flippant attitude and clever insight spoke silent volumes of truth to what she had said. Not that he was willing to concede of course. But she had certainly scoured a strike in the verbal sparring, earning herself a point in this game of intrigue they played. A twitch at the corner of his mouth was faint, but regardless of the miniscule moment it revealed a telling sign that he was enjoying himself. That perhaps she had pierced the veil, however briefly, that he cloaked hi omself with. Oh without doubt she would pay, but that was part of the splendid entertainment. Breaking your opponent just when they began to feel that they had the upper hand.

Waiting at the gate as she approached he sensed the chord that had been struck by his labeling her his slave. Quietly she reached him, refusing to answer his statement in the course of rebelling against him. Turning his eyes to meet her unflinching gaze he allowed a satisfied grin to cross his face.

"Such a good little slave. And you know your place. Do not speak until I give you my leave. But as the dutiful servant, you must always follow my eyes to receive my own, unspoken commands. Yes, you have learned your place very well, and quickly too. And such polite obedience, bowing your head slightly to ensure I am aware of your compliance to my every whim."

Turning his back on the woman he looked at the simple latch upon the gate and waited for moments before speaking over his shoulder, finally deciding to respond to what she must have assumed was a clean strike.

"You misunderstand. I do not ask my subjects for anything. I command, and they obey. They always comply, just as you have. As for engaging me, I will admit that you have entertained me. That is why, when we return home, you will accompany me to my room for the evening. To gauge just how engaging you truly are."

It was not a request. Turning slowly his eyes flickered in the eternal moonlight of the nightlands. The odd flicker of his pupils flashed once more, leaving no doubt that what she had thought she had seen earlier was in fact a reality. Moving steadily forward he invaded her space and raised a hand to her face, cupping the supple flesh of her cheek. He had seen the response, felt the pounding tempo of her pulse, and was fully aware of the effect he had upon her body. Whilst her mind seemed to be equally engaged with this dangerous dance they shared.

"Yet I wonder, perhaps a taste."

His thumb slightly brushed across her lips as his eyes were drawn to the curvature of her plush pout he had created with his caress. His own lips parted as he breathed just a little faster.

"I would never dream of taking liberties unless I was granted it. Would you like me to kiss you [member="Umai"]? Ask me to kiss you."

The hunger in his eyes as he gazed upon her unabashedly spoke of his desire. Yet he waited for her response.

 

[Valgærd]

It was only tiny, barely noticeable at all… but I saw it.

The corner of William’s mouth twitched.

My answer had been unexpected. I’d caught him off-guard. I’d found a chink in the armour, and driven home a strike to it. I wanted to revel in my victory, to let myself enjoy the scored point in our never-ending match of wits. However, I’m smarter than that. There was surely no way he would just let me take that point and escape unscathed.

As I neared him, the punishment came.

He spoke, taking the label I’d refused to accept and lavishly draping it over me. It was a very well-placed strike, heaping on the praise about how diligently I’d obeyed, how I’d become a perfect example of the very thing I was trying to reject. I swallowed, holding his gaze for as long as I dared. What came as a surprise to me was the tiny jolt of electricity that seemed to ignite a flame in the pit of my stomach at the way he spoke. Was I… was that excitement in my gut? I grimaced, pursing my lips as a shiver raced down my spine. No way. No way was that who I am. Nope. Nu-uh.

Then he turned around, putting his back to me. I stared at those broad shoulder as he looked at the latch on the gate. Part of me wanted to dig my fingernails into his shoulders, to scratch him up and stab him in the back. I wanted to activate my ring, summon the gargoyle, and pin him down, tearing into his flesh and ripping that smug look from his face.

But then he spoke over his shoulder at me, responding to what I’d said earlier. My eyebrows flew up in surprise, my arms instinctively folding protectively over my chest. But as I studied his eyes, half-turned to me, they flickered once more. I recalled the first time I’d seen them do that, back in the tower when my legs had been draped over his lap. I shivered again, hugging myself a little. I had been ready to pounce on him, to scratch out his eyes and teach him that Umai was a slave to no one. But that was my warning, that such a move would not go over well.

As my mind reeled from the revelation, he stepped up close to me, placing a hand on my cheek. My body responded instantly, my heart racing and the flesh beneath his fingers growing warm as tingles raced through me from his touch. How dare he illicit such a response from me, without my consent. But even as I tried to suppress it, he brushed a finger over my lips, causing my breath to catch in my throat a moment.

His words were in equal parts a torment, and a move in our game. Everything was playing into his hands. My mind was spinning, my chest fluttering. Hells, he even had butterflies dancing in my stomach. I could try to deny him… perhaps that would be an unexpected move on his part. Prove to him I was no slave by refusing his given command.

But why was I so tempted?

My lips parted slightly, the tiny, humble origins of a plan forming in my mind. I took a moment to catch my breath, but even as I did, my voice was still strained and breathy, barely more than a whimper.

“... Kiss me…” I murmured.



[member="William the Bloody"]

 

[William the Bloody]

He felt her tremble slightly, the breath catch at his very touch. Then her answer that gave him permission to taker her in his arms, to mark her with a fiery kiss that would search her lips with his own, ignite a fire that was already burning, into a blaze of passion that would engulf them both. Eyes locked with hers that transmitted his desire, unveiled in a look that was equal part desire and exposed vulnerability, he leaned in. Her breath mingled with his as his lips neared hers, scant distance before he sealed their fate with a kiss. Yet he paused.

"No."

His eyes flickered and turned cold as a cruel smile slithered upon his face. He had forced her to reveal the turmoil she had felt within her breast, and he deviously yanked away the offer. Was it just a game, or had their been true emotions burning beneath the mocking veneer?

"No, I shall not give you what you ... need. I deny you my plaything."

The twist upon his final word revealed that he considered her a toy to satisfy himself, nothing more. She was merely a way to pass the time. However, as his hand slipped from her face in disdain and he turned back toward the gate, his brow slightly furrowed as if the deed caused internal strife of some unknown kind. Was this a true reflection of his feelings it a carefully crafted maneuver to create a question of his true intentions that were burried beneath his facade. His back gave no insight into the validity of the subtle facial tick.

Once more before the gate his hand moved from his body and pushed, the gates creaking open loudly with an eerie shriek that added to the haunted effect that the low lying fog of the cemetery was draped with. Not waiting on his new found pet he walked smoothly into the mist, his legs stirring the fog with his passage. Leading past ancient headstones and crypts that echoed faintly in the force of horrors that restless spirit's cried out impotently from, he moved in deterred as if the sensation rolling through the force was unfelt by him. Or perhaps he was unfazed by the faint rending of the soul the shrieks caused through the force.

Finally he paused before an unmarked grave, still mounded with dirt from the recent burial, he turned to look at @Umai. A slight nod in the direction of the resting place indicated their destination.

"What you seek is buried beneath, held lovingly in decomposing hands of rotting flesh. If you wish for it and the answers that may be held, dig like a dog in the dirt until you find your bone."

He was curious if she would comply, or instead use her force sensitivity to move the earth with her mind. It would give him a taste of her power, to sense her at work. Unfortunately there were no excavation tools nearby, any found in the shed near the heart of the graveyard. While she could easily go find one, he waited patiently for her decision.

 

[Valgærd]

No.

My whole mind had been filled with the man before me. His smell, the feel of his breath over my skin. The tingle of his proximity to my lips. My entire body trembled, reacting no doubt exactly as he had intended. My breath had caught in my throat, refusing to leave my lips in case it shattered the moment in which we hung together. My heart was the only thing that dared move, carrying the hot tingles of anticipation coursing through my veins.

No.

His single word, a solitary whisper, destroyed me. My heart stopped in my chest, as if suspended in disbelief. My mind was in free-fall, every fibre of my being strung as tightly as they could go. His expression flickered, the apparent desire that had seemingly enveloped us falling away instantly. As he stepped away, I swapped, realising with growing heat in my cheeks that my body was literally quivering from the anticipation. Clenching my fists to stifle it, I drew in a deep breath, my eyes on William’s back as he approached the gate.

“How sad… that you had to make me ask you for something, just so you could say no to me. Is it because the power makes you feel good? Or are you actually practising saying no because…” I stepped up behind him, a tendril of magic snaking out to caress the back of his neck, “… are you afraid that if it truly came down to it… you wouldn’t be able to?”

My voice was a little breathless, betraying perhaps a mote of the affect he’d had on me. I just hoped that it wouldn’t detract from my retort.

I followed him into the cemetery, the mist sweeping around me as I walked. The air was colder here, the eerie cry of tormented spirits wailing in vain as we disturbed the stillness. I drew in a breath, closing my eyes a moment to focus on the energy here. The shrieks and cries were unnerving, but there was power in this place.

Finally, William came to a stop.

At his feet was a fresh grave. I realised a breath before he spoke what he was about to say, and his words confirmed such. I shuddered. What… what was down there? In the dirt? I wondered for a sickening moment, was it mother’s corpse in the ground? Of course not, this grave was new. Mother perished years ago. This was another of her clues… one unfortunately I didn’t reach in time.

Dig like a dog? Unlikely. I gave him a look, before calling upon my magic.

There was a lot of energy in this place, unsettled spirits, wild magic. I took a moment to let myself draw from it. Then with my eyes closed, I raised my hands, letting the magic flow through my fingers. There was a lot of earth to move. I could feel my face grimacing, a bead of sweat forming on my brow as I worked. But I concentrated, using my magic to heft the earth from the grave. My focus was solely on the task, refusing to let myself think about what I was actually doing.

Finally, I was done, the dirt hefted out of the grave and resting in a pile beside it. I glanced up at William,

“Bitches dig like dogs, witches are far more elegant.” I murmured.

However, my retort hung in the air as I stepped towards the hole I’d made. I had to go down into it, while William stood over me. A physical representation of where we stood with each other, perhaps. Taking a deep breath, I shoved the thought aside, and stepped down into the grave.



[member="William the Bloody"]

 

[William the Bloody]

Cold eyes watched her as she used her power. Effortlessly she excavated the grave before tossing a snide remark and making her way down into the bowels of the earth. These he noticed, yet still he was distracted. The touch upon his neck, a caress in the force. It was almost gentle. As if a lover had tailed their fingers lightly across his skin. Her words however still echoed in his mind. A sharp retort that belied what he was experiencing at the base of his neck.

Softness warred with her words as memory stirred in the recess of his mind. Once he had experienced a loving touch, but the fragments of memory were from a tender age, a time before he was 'The Bkoody', a time of innocence. A time long since gone.

As he watched as she landed upon the moist earth within the grave he took a moment to reflect, a moment he allowed himself to question his reasons for playing with this woman rather then to crush her. She was beautiful no doubt, but there was more. A spirit that was unbroken yet bent from pain experienced. A solitary soul that sought something more. Answers perhaps.

And questions filled the young UnderLord. Ones that stirred his soul. Unanswered they lay within seeking the light of truth. Yet as the years went by he had buried his questions and his innocence. Beneath bodies and a future of his own he had carved out. One that required no emotional interaction, nor the melancholy introspection he was currently engaged in.

A subtle shake of his head and his mind cleared into the present.

"You misunderstand. I didn't make you ask anything. You chose to ask me. I willed it, and you obeyed of your own volition. And you say, "'just so you could say no to me', as if I would ever say yes. You overestimate your allure Ms @Umai. You believe you are special? Why? Because you flaunt your power? Because you wield a ring of power? Because you have an insatiable hunger for things?"

He gave her a disdained look, cruel lips twisting into a sneer.

"Why would I allow you to touch my lips with your own? You, driven by a need to understand what you are, defined by your past. You struggle to find yourself in definitions given to you by a woman long dead. You were bested by a mere man, with no ability in the force. You allow me to maneuver you like a puppet. The attraction you perceive is nothing more then your attempt to confine reality within a box of your choosing."

He pointed down to the ground at her feet where the outline of a corpse could just be made out.

"You look for answers with the dead. You seek for your identity in the arms of a corpse. You disappoint me. Perhaps I thought you were a made woman, free from the opinion of others. We shape our own destiny, become what we choose. However, you seem to be perfectly fine allowing others in the past to shape who you are. Disappointing."

Was it boredom that made him turn away disinterested? Or was it a modicum of decency that would allow the woman a moment of quiet with her discovery? Could it have been his own reflective moment? In the end it didn't matter. He walked to a nearby bench and sat, arms behind as he stretched his legs out and leaned back. His mind was still disjointed at the touch, a weakness. One he sought to remedy by hastily erecting walls around himself and destroying and burgeoning connection with the woman. He needed no definitive aspect in his life other then what he chose. And he chose the unique destiny of being alone. Because in the end you could only trust yourself, if you were lucky.

 

[Valgærd]

I felt William’s cold, calculating gaze upon me as I stood below him in the grave.

There was something… intense about his gaze. It seemed to burn into my very core. He’d gone still, like he was trapped in a moment he hadn’t wanted to break. Something I’d said, something I’d done… it had resonated with him. I reached out through my magic, seeking to entangle it in the edges of his mind.

The touch.

The caress of my force tendril across his neck… it seemed to have struck something in him. I felt a pang of guilt for a moment. It was a cruel move to strike the heart like that, even if I hadn’t meant to. But as I glanced down, he shook his head, speaking back to me as I gazed at the dirt-covered corpse beneath my feet.

He struck back twice as hard.

His words stung, I could feel the sneer on his face without having to look up to him. The breath that filled my lungs was a shuddering, heavy one. I swallowed, grimacing as I bit back the tears that pricked my eyes. In getting close enough to land a brutal strike, my own defences had been lowered. I winced as he mentioned my mother, drawing in another shuddering breath as a single, stubborn tear rolled down my cheek. My hands were shaking as they reached down into the grave, clawing at the last few clumps of dirt.

I picked up a bundle, trying not to think about the rotting hands from which I had to pry it. It was wrapped in simple calico. Turning the bundle over in my hands, I found the opening as William moved to sit on a nearby bench. As I pulled the calico away, the object of my search revealed itself. A beautiful cloak, blacker than the void of space, humming with magical energy laced with the subtle hiss of Sith alchemy.

Clutching the cloak to my chest, I climbed out of the grave. Sombre footfalls took me to where William sat. I knew what was supposed to come next. I’d promised to place in his hands this very thing, a gift I knew my mother had left for me. How it ended up in a dead woman’s hands, or how William knew of it might be knowledge I’ll never have… but I knew that she wanted me to have it.

And I had promised the Underlord that I would give it to him.

He’d called me a disappointment. I shouldn’t care about that. I didn’t owe this man my best, I owed him the cloak in my hands, nothing more. He’d dragged me into his life… literally… only a few hours ago. He meant nothing to me… right?

Why then, did I care so much that he was disappointed?

I swallowed, leaning down to place the cloak on his lap. My fingers almost didn’t uncurl from the soft, velvety fabric. Was this a foolish, empty gesture? I was only doing what I’d told him I would. Why would this change his mind? Why did that matter?

“If I’m such a disappointment,” I began slowly, my voice a strained whimper, but I didn’t care, “then this would be the fulfillment of our arrangement… and you could release me. You never have to see me again.”

Why, by the goddess, did I hope he’d say no?


[member="William the Bloody"]

 

[William the Bloody]

He watched as she climbed from the grave. Loose dirt fell from her hands as she stood, the prize clutched possessively in her hands. The turmoil was clearly etched upon [member="Umai"] as she neared. The indecisive choice was written within her body language. The conflict was empowering, tasted sweet. Slowly she held out her hands and released the garment into his hands. His only expression was a single arch of his brow, before leaning back and folding his amrs, the garment now lying beside him upon the bench, as if forgotten. He held the article of clothing no value other then it's ability to manipulate the witch before him.

Her words reached my ears, yet it was the whimper that stirred him. A sneer became etched on his face. The battle of will was won. She was his. He could hear it in the tenor of her voice, the very longing that escaped with her words. Slowly he rose from the bench, the garment left behind as he moved to stand before her. Looking down he reached out and forced her chin up, to gaze into her eyes.

"Is that your wish? To be free of me? No, I do not think it is."

Releasing her chin sharply he turned his back on the woman. His shoulder shrugged lightly, slipping the coat from his form. A flick of his wrist tossed the jacket over the stone bench. Moving methodically he circled her, a predator finally closing in on his prey. But he made no mistake, his prey still had tooth and claw. A mere slip of miscalculation could change the dynamic established. And he wasn't about to release the upper hand to the witch.

He stopped behind her. Eyes roving across her form somewhat greedily. She was supple and willowy, her form pleasant to look upon. Yet it was, indeed, the way she had engaged him that had ensnared his interest. Stepping closer to her back he let his breath stir her hair. She had accurately seen that it was because of her unique spirit that had gained his acknowledgement of her peculiarity. She intrigued him. And while she had surrendered, he believed this game could continue. Leaning forward his chest brushed her back as he pressed in to invade her space. His hands went to her biceps, gripping tightly as his lips lightly rustled against her left ear.

"I could release you my slave. You have obeyed me, kept your word. I could set you free and let you scamper off into the unknown to continue your quest of living under the shadow of the past. But that is not what you desire. I feel the passion raging within you...."

His mind , finally freed from his hold, pressed against hers like a landslide. The force was strong in him and he revealed himself to her. He pushed, invading her mind ungentle in his powerful assault. He saw her defiance, but also her longing for him. Unexplainable. Not able to understand. Yet there none the less. The fingers of his right hand ran up her spine before burying into the hair at the nape of her neck. A swift hard pull would yank her head back as he leaned in and nuzzled her neck, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just under her ear and along her jaw.

"You think we are done my little slave? We are done when I say we are. You want what is yours, but you are wavering in seeing what that is. You want to own your mother's cloak, but in turn that would mean I would still own you...."

Teeth raked her skin lightly before he shoved her forward from him. He turned his neck from side to side, the cartilage popping. Rolling his shoulders he raised his left hand and motioned for her to return to him. A grin of pleasure had crossed his face. The game had changed once more.

"You want your cloak? Take it from me, with your freedom. But when I win, you belong to me. Period. You have seen that I know you are different. But I know even more my little witch. You hunger for what I have. Answers. Power. Control. You think this cloak is the only asnswer I have? I know where your mother is. Beat me and I shall give it to you freely. But when I defeat you, I shall share my knowledge when it pleases me. Perhaps in the morning when we wake in my bed. Perhaps a year from now. Perhaps never. That is the right of the master, and I am your master."

His eyes flickered with the peculiar view that afflicted them twice before in the night. A shifting of the pupils as they elongated. He was no longer a mammal, bit a reptile, cold and cunning. He knew the prey he sought, and he would not be denied. A casual glance at the ring on her hand combined with his sneer. His victory was a foregone conclusion in his mind. To quote the sergeant of his Knight Hunters, there were only two options, she either bowed to her new master, or he made her to bow. There was no option C.

 

[Valgærd]

William rose slowly from the bench.

My heart was pounding in my throat, the blood pounding in my ears as I anxiously awaited his reaction. He seemed to take great pleasure in making me wait, in teasing me, tormenting me with his answers. Then came the sneer. The gift, the garment, he placed on the bench beside him, casting not a single thought to it.

I felt his fingers on my chin, forcing my face up to face his. I obeyed, staring up into his eyes as he spoke. He saw right through me. Trapped like a deer in the lights of an oncoming speeder, I stared up hopelessly as he told me he didn’t think I wished to be free.

A violent shiver raced down my spine, gripping my shoulders. He stepped around me, stalking me like a nexu stalking its prey. His coat had been shrugged off, although I didn’t believe it was because of the air within the graveyard. I remained motionless, standing stoic and silent as he encircled me. Any false move on his part could turn the tide in my favour, or any false move on mine could lure him to strike a fatal blow.

This dance, it seemed, would never end.

I felt his breath ruffling the hair that fell down my back, my every fibre hummed as he stepped in close, close enough to brush against me. His hands gripped my arms, holding my securely in place. The touch sent violent chills shooting through me, exploding as a sharp gasp. My mind had been cast into disarray, tumbling wildly as I fought against the rising excitement in my core. Was… my body truly reacting this way? After all this time… was this what I was meant for? Servitude?

He spoke directly into my ear, his hoarse whisper slithering into my ear, wrapping bindings around my mind. His words were like a drug, forcibly casting me into a euphoric high, leaving me craving more when I ultimately came down.

I swallowed, taking as deep a breath as I dared. I sensed the warning in his last word, but I didn’t have the time to brace myself before I suddenly felt his mind forcibly into mine. I hadn’t known he was a force sensitive, so I was totally unprepared for the mental onslaught. I let out an audible wince, my knees buckling as my body flinched. His mind forced its way into mine, sweeping through me, seeing everything that I had held in my thoughts so privately. Distracted by the internal invasion, I barely even felt his fingers running up my spine until he yanked on my hair, the sudden pain like gasoline on the fire in my gut.

I whimpered as he lowered his head, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin on my neck. His breath tickled me as he growled in my ear. Through the haze in which my mind swam, I understood what he was saying: keep the cloak, belong to him.

Another gasp slipped through my lips as his teeth scraped across my neck. A cold chill washed over me as I was suddenly confronted with my vulnerability. I felt exposed, naked, defenceless. There was nothing I could do to stop him if he decided to kill me right now. Just as the realisation broke over me, he shoved me away, turning to crack his neck like a beast savouring a kill.

He motioned that I return to him, just as I glanced down to realise that the cloak rested on the bench just below me. This was my choice. If I chose to leave now, our deal would be concluded. However, if I picked up, I would call him Master, and he would own me.

With a deep breath, I picked up the cloak, hugging it to my chest. The velvety fabric was soft, softer than anything I’d ever felt. However, soft though it may be, it was still my shackles. Tingles shot through me as I felt the lock finally snap shut.

Our dance might never end, this tug-of-war between us, matching our wits, would likely go on until one of us died. But the battle had been won. And the victor had his prize.

I turned back to face him, taking a few steps towards him. For a few moments, I stood, saying nothing. Why prolong it? The words had to come, there was no use pretending they didn’t.

“As you wish, Master.”


[member="William the Bloody"]