You'd Be Better Off Alone
May. 22nd, 2009 02:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alexisGenja dragged Layla up the stairs from the dungeon to the main floor, then further up until they reached his chambers which they entered. Once inside, he pushed her roughly against the wall and twirled his fingers in her hair, staring intently at the deep ebony color. God, how he hated women with black hair. It reminded him entirely too much of his own Romani heritage. It also reminded him of the cousin he had been expected to marry. They'd wanted him to make her a queen, but she was no queen. Dana had been just another whore, like all the women of his tribe, like the woman standing before him.
He released her hair and looked into her wide terrified eyes. Amber, they were what had drawn his attention in the first place, even before he noticed her hair. Beautiful eyes, filled with terror, just the way he liked them. He brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers while staring into those eyes. "What's your name?" he asked. "Layla," she replied hesitantly. "Well, Layla," he said softly, pressing his body against hers and his lips to her ear, "here's what you need to know about me. I can be nice…" His hand slipped from her cheek into her thick mane of hair, grabbing and yanking on a sizeable lock. "Or I can be nasty. It's entirely up to you."
Layla's head jerked when he yanked her hair and she cried out. He smiled in response. "Now, if you're sweet, there might be some perks in it for you while you're locked up in that cell. If not, you might find yourself fodder for the ghouls." He could see by the confusion in her eyes that she had no idea what he meant. He sighed dramatically. "Have you seen the movie Serenity?" She nodded in response. "Well, ghouls are like Reavers." He watched her eyes widen. He nodded. "That's right. Real live Reavers, right here in the castle." She shook her head in denial and he slipped his hand under her chin, raising her eyes to his. "Oh yes, Layla. You know what they'll do to you?" he queried. "No.." she whispered. "First, they rip your legs off, so they don't get in the way and so you can't kick them. Then, they'll take turns fucking you so viciously that they'll actually pulverize your pelvic bone. When your cunt and all your female organs are nothing but pulp, they'll turn you over and start on that side."
She kept trying to turn her head so she didn't have to look at him, but he wouldn't release his grip, his eyes finding hers over and over. "Please," she whispered pathetically. "That's a start," he said before resuming his detailed explanation of what kind of treatment she could expect from anyone but him. "Once your backside is similarly overused, they'll cut holes into your body. Deep holes which they will then penetrate over and over again while you scream. If you pass out, they'll wake you back up and continue." Layla squeezed her eyes shut, the tears she'd been fighting spilling down her cheeks. "Please, stop" she pleaded. Genja ignored her. "When they get bored with that, they'll gouge your eyes out and literally fuck your eye sockets. Imagine that, Layla. If you survive, you can tell me what it feels like to have someone literally cum on your brain. A true, honest to god, mind fuck. I don't think I need to tell you what the women are like." "It's not possible," she whispered. "You don't think so?" he asked. "No," she responded, shaking her head. "It can't be."
"Open your eyes, I want to show you something." Hesitantly, she did as he asked. Genja stood before her and bared his fangs. He ripped through his wrist and held it out for her. She watched in utter shock as the wound began closing up on its own accord. Her eyes moved to his. "What are you?" She whispered. "I think you know," he replied. Layla whimpered. "I'll be nice," she said. He smiled. "That's a good girl. And by the way, you can call me Crucho."
Crucho walked away from Layla towards the center of the room, removing his vest and tossing it on a chair. The vest itself was printed with deep purple diamonds with lighter purple alternating diamonds. Beneath it, he was wearing a black silk button down shirt, open far enough to be casual yet still pass for dressy, the sleeves rolled up about a quarter of the way and untucked over his black pants; short enough to show the heavy silver belt buckle at his waist. On his feet he wore heavy black boots. She took the opportunity to survey her surroundings. The room was exceptionally large, as one would expect in a castle. The furniture was large as well, mostly heavy and intricately carved, highly polished wood. A bed stood against the center of one wall, a bondage pillory against the wall opposite the bed's footboard. The bed itself was lined with heavy curtains and appeared to be covered in damask bedding of a deep color. Pillows abounded.
In the center of the room hung shackles. There were shelves along the walls which held bottles and beakers. A desk, an armoire, a couple of plush, edwardian style chairs separated by a small table. On the table appeared to be scalpels and various other surgical implements, the frightening kind that looked like torture devices with their large teeth, some of which were clamps. There was also a large, thick leather strap; the kind midwives stuck between women's jaws while they were treated to crude, middle ages type cesarean sections. Layla paled and her stomach revolted. "Please god," she thought fervently.
The room was lit by candles set in wall sconces as opposed to the actual torches on the dungeon walls. Upon closer inspection, she could see what appeared to be dark stains on the otherwise bare floor under the shackles and around the pillory as well as the wall behind the pillory. What wasn't immediately apparent were the thick leather straps hanging from the bed posts and the blood stains on the sheets.
"I said, come here." Layla's head snapped in Crucho's direction. He was standing under the shackles, glaring at her. "I'm sorry," she said in a small voice as she forced her feet to carry her to him. "Pay attention," he snapped. She nodded.
Layla had never been so terrified in her life. "I'll do anything you want, just.. please don't hurt me." Crucho was almost disappointed. He'd expected her to put up more of a fight. "What I want.." he said menacingly, as he grabbed her hands and secured them in the shackles, "is to hear you scream." She stuttered, crying even more, "But.. you said you'd be nice..." Crucho smiled. "No. Actually, I didn't."
He released her hair and looked into her wide terrified eyes. Amber, they were what had drawn his attention in the first place, even before he noticed her hair. Beautiful eyes, filled with terror, just the way he liked them. He brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers while staring into those eyes. "What's your name?" he asked. "Layla," she replied hesitantly. "Well, Layla," he said softly, pressing his body against hers and his lips to her ear, "here's what you need to know about me. I can be nice…" His hand slipped from her cheek into her thick mane of hair, grabbing and yanking on a sizeable lock. "Or I can be nasty. It's entirely up to you."
Layla's head jerked when he yanked her hair and she cried out. He smiled in response. "Now, if you're sweet, there might be some perks in it for you while you're locked up in that cell. If not, you might find yourself fodder for the ghouls." He could see by the confusion in her eyes that she had no idea what he meant. He sighed dramatically. "Have you seen the movie Serenity?" She nodded in response. "Well, ghouls are like Reavers." He watched her eyes widen. He nodded. "That's right. Real live Reavers, right here in the castle." She shook her head in denial and he slipped his hand under her chin, raising her eyes to his. "Oh yes, Layla. You know what they'll do to you?" he queried. "No.." she whispered. "First, they rip your legs off, so they don't get in the way and so you can't kick them. Then, they'll take turns fucking you so viciously that they'll actually pulverize your pelvic bone. When your cunt and all your female organs are nothing but pulp, they'll turn you over and start on that side."
She kept trying to turn her head so she didn't have to look at him, but he wouldn't release his grip, his eyes finding hers over and over. "Please," she whispered pathetically. "That's a start," he said before resuming his detailed explanation of what kind of treatment she could expect from anyone but him. "Once your backside is similarly overused, they'll cut holes into your body. Deep holes which they will then penetrate over and over again while you scream. If you pass out, they'll wake you back up and continue." Layla squeezed her eyes shut, the tears she'd been fighting spilling down her cheeks. "Please, stop" she pleaded. Genja ignored her. "When they get bored with that, they'll gouge your eyes out and literally fuck your eye sockets. Imagine that, Layla. If you survive, you can tell me what it feels like to have someone literally cum on your brain. A true, honest to god, mind fuck. I don't think I need to tell you what the women are like." "It's not possible," she whispered. "You don't think so?" he asked. "No," she responded, shaking her head. "It can't be."
"Open your eyes, I want to show you something." Hesitantly, she did as he asked. Genja stood before her and bared his fangs. He ripped through his wrist and held it out for her. She watched in utter shock as the wound began closing up on its own accord. Her eyes moved to his. "What are you?" She whispered. "I think you know," he replied. Layla whimpered. "I'll be nice," she said. He smiled. "That's a good girl. And by the way, you can call me Crucho."
Crucho walked away from Layla towards the center of the room, removing his vest and tossing it on a chair. The vest itself was printed with deep purple diamonds with lighter purple alternating diamonds. Beneath it, he was wearing a black silk button down shirt, open far enough to be casual yet still pass for dressy, the sleeves rolled up about a quarter of the way and untucked over his black pants; short enough to show the heavy silver belt buckle at his waist. On his feet he wore heavy black boots. She took the opportunity to survey her surroundings. The room was exceptionally large, as one would expect in a castle. The furniture was large as well, mostly heavy and intricately carved, highly polished wood. A bed stood against the center of one wall, a bondage pillory against the wall opposite the bed's footboard. The bed itself was lined with heavy curtains and appeared to be covered in damask bedding of a deep color. Pillows abounded.
In the center of the room hung shackles. There were shelves along the walls which held bottles and beakers. A desk, an armoire, a couple of plush, edwardian style chairs separated by a small table. On the table appeared to be scalpels and various other surgical implements, the frightening kind that looked like torture devices with their large teeth, some of which were clamps. There was also a large, thick leather strap; the kind midwives stuck between women's jaws while they were treated to crude, middle ages type cesarean sections. Layla paled and her stomach revolted. "Please god," she thought fervently.
The room was lit by candles set in wall sconces as opposed to the actual torches on the dungeon walls. Upon closer inspection, she could see what appeared to be dark stains on the otherwise bare floor under the shackles and around the pillory as well as the wall behind the pillory. What wasn't immediately apparent were the thick leather straps hanging from the bed posts and the blood stains on the sheets.
"I said, come here." Layla's head snapped in Crucho's direction. He was standing under the shackles, glaring at her. "I'm sorry," she said in a small voice as she forced her feet to carry her to him. "Pay attention," he snapped. She nodded.
Layla had never been so terrified in her life. "I'll do anything you want, just.. please don't hurt me." Crucho was almost disappointed. He'd expected her to put up more of a fight. "What I want.." he said menacingly, as he grabbed her hands and secured them in the shackles, "is to hear you scream." She stuttered, crying even more, "But.. you said you'd be nice..." Crucho smiled. "No. Actually, I didn't."
