“Neither,” Diana said, her face growing notably pale.
“I’m sorry,” The Elder said, blinking in feigned surprise. He cupped his hand behind his ear and leaned in, just outside of the reach of her gnashing teeth… A pity. “What was that?”
“I said fucking neither!” Diana growled.
“My dear little heretic harlot, I thought you would know better by now.” Diana doubled over when he struck her in the stomach — or at least she tried to in her bondage. She was strapped into what was essentially a reclined iron chair bolted to the ground, barely able to move an inch. Her spasming diaphragm tensed up, and she gasped for air while the he looked on in contempt.
The Elder held a golden ring, no more than two inches in diameter, pinched between his thumb and index finger. He put it up to his eye socket like a monocle and peered at Diana through it, spinning it once, then twice as he hummed. “You know, maybe it’s my fault. I keep forgetting that you’re not just a heretic, you’re an idiot as well. Perhaps you don’t know the proper words…” He passed the ring, and another he had been holding in his closed palm, to Garlic.
The Elder reached down. “Nipples,” he hissed, grabbing a handful of Diana’s tits with enough strength to leave her wincing, pulling savagely away from her chest for several seconds before he let go. “Or, clit.” His hand then found her groin, roughly mashing the lips of her abused labia in a screwed-up fist. A moment later, his fingers pinched the little nub between her legs, squeezing until she screamed. As quickly as he had groped her, he let go, leaving Diana panting. “It shouldn’t be a difficult question.”
“And, naturally,” Tattoo spoke up from the corner of the room. “Miss Leona will be getting the one that you don’t pick.” He had a small smile on his face, and he absentmindedly ran his fingers over his namesake from where he stood, arms crossed, looking over the naked bodies of their captives. Both the lunar and solar aspects were similarly bound at the wrists and ankles by thick straps to a device that resembled the old birthing chairs Diana had seen in the villages, the two women facing one another.
Diana eyed her former friend, the golden haired Solari captain sitting in her chair as imperiously as if it were a throne. While she was by no means in good shape, she had recovered from the stupor she was in upon her arrival. She already knew which one she would pick. Leona just shrugged against her bindings. “Pick whichever one you want,” Leona said.
Diana seethed at that. Trying to take the high road? Little late for that. Fine. That was just fine by her. She didn’t want to pick either one of them, but the lack of concern that her erstwhile friend was displaying made it easier for her to choose. If she didn’t want to even pretend to beg for a scrap of mercy, that suited her just fine.
“Nipples,” she growled between clenched teeth.
Garlic bounced down onto the balls of his feet, lowering himself until his eyes were level with Diana’s heaving breasts. With a gaze that somehow managed to combine leering and professional appraisal into one look, he sunk his fingers into her the flesh of her tit and started to squeeze. He paid very close attention to the state of her nipples, his intended target. Diana couldn’t help but shudder and feel her cheeks glow red. For all of the humiliations and degradations she had endured, she couldn’t help admonishing herself for feeling self-conscious about them… But she couldn’t help it. When she had compared her own to Leona’s and the other acolytes all those years ago, they had for her only giggles that forever cemented a dark insecurity deep in her consciousness.
“We’ll have to deal with this first,” he said, running his thumb over her nipple — or rather, where it should have been protruding had it not been inverted. Diana let out a hiss. “Relax, love. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s about a one-in-ten, really.” His thumb continued to trace the perimeter of her areolas while his other fingers began a gentle massage.
“You an expert on tits?” Tattoo asked.
“Seen my fair share,” Garlic chuckled. “Know you’re fond of this one’s knockers though. You want to coax ‘em out?” Tattoo shrugged and nodded before stepping up to Diana and bracing himself on her chair to touch her.
Leaning in, he ran his tongue up the underside of her boob, seeming to savor her smooth flesh until he had finally made his way up to the pink center of the mound. Diana gasped and then, much to her displeasure, let out a tiny whimper as his tracing thumb was replaced by his tongue roaming circles around the ring of her areola, swirling closer and closer to its rising tender peak. Suddenly, he withdrew, leaving Diana free to both see as well as feel that her body was beginning to betray her. When Tattoo wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face tightly into the depths of her cleavage, she saw her nipples slowly begin to protract.
After a few moments enjoying the envelopment of his head in her smooth flesh, he managed to rally himself from his booblust induced stupor and sunk his fingers into each of Diana’s knockers, beginning to squeeze and knead the Lunari’s succulent mounds once more. Her growls of rage soon turned to husky breaths, unbidden. While the men had availed themselves of her bosom before with a rough titfuck here and there, this was actually the first time she’d found her chest being stimulated for the purpose of her pleasure… no one had ever touched her like that before in her life. Even knowing that the ultimate goal was just to expose her nipples, it didn’t help Diana to stifles the sensual gasps, or suppress how baby her body longed for a gentle touch.
Once again, he kissed and licked his way from her cleavage to her now exposed nipple, letting his tongue flick once across the stiff pink teat. Diana squeaked and involuntarily arched her back as much as she could from her bound position, setting her teeth gnashing with shame and rage. The fact that she’d arched her back had pushed her breast even further into his mouth, and Tattoo took that chance to double his assault. He circled her nipple with slow, almost loving, licks. The whole time both of his hands kept working her flesh mound from below. With just a little pressure, a tongue bath, and more than a little skill, he had Diana squirming. If anyone had bothered to queue in on her whimpers of pleasure and checked downstairs, they would have been met with the familiar musk of feminine desire wafting from the seat of the chair.
It was in this way — in a dark, filthy, stinking dungeon surrounded by men who took a deep and enduring pleasure in torturing and raping her, and sat across from her greatest enemy in a shameful state of forced arousal — that Diana first found herself enjoying the touch of another. She flushed in self-loathing. “Bigger doesn’t mean less sensitive, I suppose,” The Elder chuckled from where he relaxed lazily in the corner.
“That’s pretty hot,” Garlic admitted.
Diana’s ignominious enjoyment of Tattoo’s boob worship only served as additional motivation to pleasure her willing tits against the wishes of her unwilling heart. He wrapped his lips around her nipple and began to suck tenderly until Diana was once again arching her back with eyes screwed shut. And then it happened: She moaned for him. A tiny, pleased sound escaped her lips, slipping between her teeth. It twisted her guts into knots even as she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood… a soft, but desperate, sound as his fingers and tongue conspired together to shatter her resistance with newfound zones of pleasure.
“Hmmm?” Tattoo queried as he surveyed her other breast out of the corner of his eye. “What’s this?” He brought his thumb and index finger up to tweak the now exposed nipple of her unattended breast. He traced soft kisses all the way from one nipple to the other, lavishing each inch of flesh in between with tender loving care. Every movement, from the devilish flicking of her nipples with the tip of his tongue, to the circling of her areolas, to the gliding of his lips slick with saliva down the valley of her cleavage, drew a new pitch of squeals and moans from the suffering lunar aspect. The pleasure only ratcheted up until Diana’s legs were trembling, and the sound of her voice filled the small space of the room. She felt something deep and terrible rising up from within the core of her body, a heat that sought release with such fervor that it terrified her. But before she had to endure that ultimate humiliation, Tattoo stopped suddenly and stepped back.
Diana was left dazed and reeling as she watched Garlic withdraw a long needle and a pair of small clamps from a pouch at his waist.
“Now’s the fun part,” he smiled. Nodding in contentment as he tested the sharpness of his needle on his finger, he suddenly snapped the clamp onto one of Diana’s nipples. To her disgust, even that painful act carried with it a brief, underlying tinge of pleasure that teased every nerve ending of her sensitive breasts.
“Fuck you,” Diana hissed when he clamped her other nipple.
“A generous offer,” Garlic hummed. “But I’m working right now.” He surveyed each one of her clamped nipples closely, gingerly prodding them with a finger to make sure that they were properly stabilized. Diana began to sweat when she felt the sharp prick of the needle’s tip being rested against her now bright red nipple. She didn’t dare to squirm at this point. There was absolutely nothing she could do. They were going to modify her body for their perverse pleasure.
“I would give you something to bite down on,” he said, grinning at her. “But I kind of forgot to bring anything. Just try not to chew through your tongue. You’re quite good with it.” Diana dared not speak, or even breathe, as he began to put pressure on the needle. She was not about to have her nipple torn in two… it would be up to her to try to hold as still as possible. He only paused to pop a garlic clove into his mouth before pushing the needle through in one go. The nails of both of her hands dug into the arms of the chair as a flash of pain streaked through her sensitive breast, and she let out a surprised shriek… but that was only the beginning. Without any herbs or medicines to dull the pain, the needle left lanced through her right nipple made its intrusive presence very clear. Her whole body rejected the foreign object that had smashed its way through all of the sensitive nerves and blood vessels at her nipple, protesting with throbbing swells of agony at the cold metal in her flesh, but there was nothing she could do but grind her teeth. She momentarily thought about how this would affect her ability to breastfeed, but very quickly shut down any thoughts of pregnancy given her circumstances… the idea of having a child was the absolute last thing she wanted to think about right now.
Garlic wasted no time piercing the other nipple as he chewed away idly at the clove in his mouth, a second needles soon joining the first inside her skin, a second scream escaping from her to be followed by rapid, wide-eyed panting. It was more than a minute before Diana was finally able to take a breath and hold it… only did then he finally take his hands away. While he had been working, she had only been able to see the top swirl of his hair. Now that he was sat back and admiring his handiwork, she found herself looking down at her heaving chest to find her most private parts impaled. In her present situation, the needle points protruding from her pieces nipples looked worse than arrow wounds. She flinched a bit as he took a bit of blood leaking from her wounds and smeared it across her forehead with his thumb, leaving a blood red slash profaning the Lunari symbol glowing on her forehead.
“We’ll leave the needles in for a minute while I work on the next in line,” he said as he held up the two silver rings that were destined for her rather than the original golden pair, slipping them into his pocket. Then he approached Leona.
Leona was looking at Diana’s pierced nipples rather than the approaching artist himself, a strange look on her face. Diana had no way of hiding her shame as blood trickled down her trembling chest. Her inverted nipples that had once been hidden would from now on be exposed, as if she were aroused at all times. Her nipples would be normal again, or what she assumed was normal… so why was that return to normalcy almost as upsetting as the pain?
“Ohoh,” Garlic marveled. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, playing with his bottom lip as he looked at Leona’s exposed privates from many angles. “You don’t see a girl like this very often.” He poked and prodded, teasing his fingertips over her clitoral hood before lifting it with a thumb. That stimulation alone wasn’t enough to cut through the fear and loathing that seemed to surround Leona like a cloak, but it did make her worm about in her restraints. “Absolutely perfect for a triangle piercing.”
“You are very knowledgeable about such things,” Leona muttered. “Disgusting.”
“Piercings are an unacceptable liability in combat, as you know,” he agreed. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t like them. And it’s not like you’ll be fighting again, anyway.” He lined up the rose gold horseshoe barbell piercing with her slit, nodding as he imagined it sitting snugly. He turned and looked back at Diana, whose eyes were lidded with the aching pain afflicting her erogenous zones.
“You might have thought you were making the right choice, love,” Garlic chuckled. “Sure, it’ll be unbelievably painful to put in, but our darling here is really, really going to enjoy this old thing when its pushing on her hot little button.” He waved to Tattoo, getting his attention from where he stood staring at Diana’s breasts, and said, “I’m going to take this one, if you don’t mind.” Without pausing to watch Tattoo wave him on, Garlic buried his face against Leona’s stomach. He kissed his way all the way down to the folds of her sex, flicking his tongue across the hood that hid the tiny jewel he was after. The act earned him a sharp gasp of surprise and a straining of leather as Leona kicked against her straps. If her ankles hadn’t been bound, Garlic probably would have found himself squeezed between her strong thighs… but she was thoroughly helpless like this.
Finding that bit too sensitive, he led his tongue on a journey down to her lusher lower lips, teasing her entrance in an attempt to get it wet and ready for something that wouldn’t particularly need it. His hands spread her open, her sex easily admitting his tongue. A welcome relief from the various objects that had been shoved inside of it recently, no doubt. Diana boggled at Leona’s soft moans and gasps of pleasure that accompanied every oral caress.
When Leona’s eyes finally snapped open as Garlic’s tongue pushed deeper, they fixed straight ahead. Her golden irises framed by widened lids were a muddy brown in the crepuscular haze that leaked through the tiny porthole near the ceiling, and Diana felt as if she were actually falling with how that gaze sent her rocking to and fro.
“What’s wrong with you?” Diana growled. “Stop looking at me!” Leona did that often when she could: laid eyes on the one who she’d so callously crossed blades on the day all of this had started, as if she were studying her ideological nemesis deeply. What ideas, thoughts, and feeling danced in the crossed wires behind those eyes, Diana had no idea. She always seemed on the verge of speaking, her lips poised to burst forth with some summoned torrent of vitreol… but it never came. Diana was absolutely dying to know what she wanted to say. She wanted her to yell, to scream, to fight… to take some tiny relief in the conflict. She’d given the Solari her own verbal and physical lashings, but the woman herself only ever watched her and took all of their shared tortures with a quiet neutrality broken only by inflicted agonies that overcame her physical resistance.
“Stop!” Diana hissed, baring her teeth. “Unless you’ve got something to say to me? Maybe to let me know that you want me dead just as much as I do you?” Diana was shaking openly now. “I won’t spare your pitiful life next time!” When she started rocking against her restraints, setting her breasts bouncing agonizingly, she felt the Elder’s callused hands rest on her shoulders.
“No catfights, please,” he said, massaging the soft flesh behind her clavicle with enough force to cause her to tense up. Leona finally closed her eyes again with a grimace, afflicted by some new pleasure as the man between her legs honed in on some sensitive spot just under her throbbing rosebud. Her hips started bucking, the restraints the only thing keeping him from having to pry them open. When he finally withdrew, the juices of her arousal smeared across his face plain for everyone to see, she was left breathing hard.
From the way she cried next, it appeared that Garlic had set his clamp in preparation for the main act just like he had with Diana. “Deep breath, dear,” was all he said. Then the screaming started.
Diana looked away as the Solari’s widened and she shrieked in pain. Every nerve down there had been edged to the point of release… She must have been hyper-sensitive for the brutal treatment that followed. Diana had seen her fair share of carnage in this dungeon; it didn’t phase her anymore. The mirror empathy for womanhood wired deep down in her brain, however, couldn’t help but send tremors of pain through her own tender rosebud even through the aching pain that afflicted her upper half.
As Diana’s downturned eyes took in every detail of the stone tiles, only Leona’s screams of pain gave her any comfort. She felt her own pain fade away, and for a moment she was able to leave it all behind as her singular focus lay on the anguished cries of her most hated nemesis. She had been wounded before, numerous times, and terribly. But Leona was the only one who had ever really hurt her. Those screams, which were long, drawn out, hoarse, and many, were the smallest price she could possibly pay for her betrayal.
It wasn’t the first time that Tattoo had visited her by himself in the middle of the “night” to take pleasure with her body. It wasn’t even the tenth time. At first, she’d fought him bitterly. It was during one of these times when she’d gotten a little too aggressive for his liking that she’d been condemned to the ring gag in the first place. Over time, she’d been forced to realize even her deep well of pride wasn’t worth the petty vengeances inflicted in return for her resistances.
When she found herself giving her best effort to get him off as quickly as possible, only the fact that he seemed to be less wary every time, to the point where he now bound only her wrists, gave her any hope of retaining some tiny scrap of self-respect. It was all for her escape. Her revenge. Even so, her cheeks burned red-hot as she found her lips drifting closer and closer to the head of Tattoo’s sizeable cock once again. She might have been forcibly made used to sex over the last few weeks, but she hadn’t been able to adjust to the role of willing participant without utter embarrassment and shame. Not like the guards cared.
Her mouth knew every contour of his cock by now, her tongue and lips stretching around each and every bit of the impossible thick member as it slid inside her mouth. She was immediately assaulted by his precum as he continued on to the edge of her throat, and she drank dutifully. This was no time for teasing and foreplay… Every second she spent not driving him to orgasm was an additional moment spent under the heavy paw of the panting brute, and she had already wasted enough time worshipping his full balls. If she wanted to get any sleep tonight, she needed to make him cum, and quickly. It was better than annoying him, and having him spend the night hurting her instead.
As she sunk more and more of his cock into her open maw, she teased her tongue along his cumvein. One hand found his thigh, and the other she wrapped lightly around the base of his shaft. His balls had seemed so full and heavy that Diana imagined that she could almost hear his copious seed sloshing around inside. Drawing back just for a moment, she parted her lips as wide as they would go and dipped her head down in one fluid motion, wrapping Tattoo’s cock all the way to its base with silken pleasure in one go. She couldn’t help but gag… That still hadn’t been beaten out of her. A tiny shred of dignity proving she wasn’t the whore they said she was. Even still, she didn’t relent or even let up for a chance to breath; she wanted this over with, and her determined mouth wasn’t going to mete out any mercy once it had latched onto him. Without rest, she sucked and wrenched the shaft of his meat with her mouth and hand in conjunction.
Her stomach dropped as she became aware that a pair of boots had approached the cell door and that someone was currently peaking in one them. He had come in alone, and Diana balked at the thought of being forced into another threesome, or foursome, or fivesome. Having the men come to her one at a time during the night, one after the other in a process lasting hours, was not an experience she was eager to repeat. When she tried to stop to look around his thighs and see who was there, however, Tattoo pressed his hand to the back of her head. His expectations were perfectly clear… keep going.
“You having fun in there?” She heard a voice ask. She recognized it as Thumbs. “Need any help or are you all good?”
“Naw,” Tattoo grunted. “She’s a good little whore. I’m good. Why don’t you take the other one?” The other man grunted his assent and moved on.
Meanwhile Diana bobbed her lips low enough to kiss her own fingers each time, wrapping his cock completely in a solid cocoon of slippery ecstasy even as he engaged in conversation with the other guard. Every slurp and shlick seemed louder than the last, driving themselves like nails between each of her thoughts but it didn’t seem to bother them. She couldn’t help but let a few gags slip through as she pleasured his cock relentlessly, saliva and even a few tears mixing together on her lips and cheeks until she feared what she would look like in a mirror even beneath all of the grime and bruises. She found herself suddenly thinking about what would happen when she did finish the job. She knew he expected her to suck him off to completion, but after… He did have a lot of stamina, and if he wasn’t satisfied with this one round, he’d inevitably take it further. Again.
The thought that interrupted this line of was the sudden, abberant idea that Tattoo was actually a talented mage in secret, because he seemed to have suddenly and inexplicably opened up a portal to the ocean in her mouth. She was vaguely aware that he had let go of the back of her head, his hands balled into fists so that veins stood out on his arms with the effort of his straining. The man that she so dearly hated was once again filling her mouth with a veritable sea of hot jizz, just a few floors away from where she had trained with her peers and roamed with her closest friends, if they were still at the temple. She was suddenly also aware that he would be painting the floor of her cell and not her throat if she didn’t start swallowing. Diana really didn’t need any extra mess in her squalid quarters, no matter how temporary… he would only make her lick it up, and the only thing worse that having his sperm in her was having it in her after it had bathed in the dirt for a while.
Tattoo didn’t say anything to her, no praise or ever mockery for her sluttish behavior. He only grunted as his cumvein swelled over and over again almost as fast as her beating heart. Each thunderous, violent jet of semen rocketing down her throat was punctuating by a hard swallow as she made room for more and slowly cleared everything that she had stored up in her cheeks. Tattoo couldn’t help but let out a strained groan, and if Thumbs had stuck around, he would have seen her, eyes wide and unfocused, as her cheeks hollowed again and again in an effort to suck everything out. Her hands gripped his iron rod of a cock for support and to squeeze him in the vain hope that she could coax out all of his virile spunk before she passed out from oxygen deprivation. The thought of giving up halfway didn’t even cross her mind. She absolutely had to swallow every single drop to get on her guard’s good side… continue making him lax. There was absolutely no other option. None at all. She gulped down him cum like she hadn’t had a drink in days, and that wasn’t so far removed from the truth.
When she finished everything he had to give her and slipped her mouth free, she felt like she’d swallowed more than all the food and drink had had given her the entire time she was a prisoner. When she finally caught his eye again, she felt her face flush with more than just the exertion of blowing him. It was very convenient that both embarrassment and rage brought color to her face. She placed her hand daintily over her lips and gave one last gulp.
“I swallowed it all,” she muttered with feigned bashfulness. Her open maw showed him that she spoke true.
“Diana,” he said, leaning back to stretch his spine and hips. “Just a warning: you keep that attitude up and I’m going to have to take you as my wife.” That was the first time that he had actually used her name. Actually, it… might be the first time that anyone down in the pit of despair had used her name, save for that Solari bitch. It hadn’t even crossed Leona’s lips more than a handful of times by the time that her most fervent rapist had used it.
Her mind skipped past wedding dresses and straight to an image of her collared form lying in a bed of furs as she drank from his cock like a starved slut. That was just the kind of guy he was… the kind of wife he wanted. Never. She showed him a demure smile. Maybe she was selling her acceptance too much, but she wasn’t sure how to properly act out the illusion that what he’d said and implied hadn’t made her nauseous. She was suddenly aware of his still erect cock brushing against her stomach when she stood up.
“Will you take me away from here, then?” she asked, shuffling forward to squeeze his erection between her thighs. “Like a prince?” Her arms were slung over his shoulders, and she beamed up at him. When his face fell and he regarded her with a neutral state, she feared that she’d gone too far. There was no way he was going to buy into the bullshit that she was slinging. But she really had no other choice but to double down. She reached behind her to stroke the head that protruded out from under the soft caress of her cheeks.
“You were my first, you know,” she cooed. “A girl never forgets her first.”
They practically fell on top of each other as he pulled her down to the floor. She found herself sat squarely in his lap as he bucked his hips against her, also sitting on the ground. He didn’t seem to mind the squalid conditions. Diana wrapped her legs around his back as she slowly guided the tip of his engorged cock to her waiting sex. He immediately seized upon the obvious purpose of such a lewd position, completing the lotus position by wrapping his arms around her back and slamming himself home as deeply as possible.
“Oh, god…” she moaned, running her bound hands from his abs up around his head and then to the back of his neck. He probably thought it was of pleasure… she certainly hoped so. The gasp of agony from just how quickly his huge shaft had shoved into her didn’t fit the deception very well. They both began to grind and rock into each other. It was a far cry from the brutal thrusting penetration that Diana had been victim of repeatedly, but she was so sore after weeks of this that it really didn’t feel any better. For his part, Tattoo didn’t seem to mind the change of pace. It wasn’t… completely… terrible, she supposed. In a way, she was in control, choosing the speed at which she rocked back and forth at the depth she pleased. All that really amounted to, however, was forcing her to rape herself hard and deep to keep up the deception of growing eager.
Diana slowly became hyper-aware of her arms wrapped around his neck. If she just swung around him, she could possibly choke him out. Her legs were already wrapped around his waist, and the stiff leather cuffs would probably be enough to serve as a garrote… at the very least it would give his trachea a very hard time. Her fingers twitched at the thought of squeezing the life out of him slowly… But it wasn’t a sure thing. If she did manage to murder her rapist and escape the cell, then what? He hadn’t brought a weapon. Thumbs was still somewhere nearby. She didn’t even know the layout of the prison, where she was in it, or where the prison itself was even located. Her situation would just be going from bad to worse… so instead of squeezing her arms around his neck until life escaped from him like she wanted to, she squeezed her cunt in time with every move they made.
“Cum in me,” she gasped. “Please, I want it.” Tattoo had been laying kisses in the crook of her neck and gently massaging her breasts. He seemed to be very delicate with her tender nipples, avoiding pulling on the rings that now passed through them like she feared that he would, like Garlic and Thumbs had earlier today. Her request triggered something in him though, and she felt her mouth seal with his as he trapped her in a deep, passionate kiss. Their tongues leapt forward to meet, twining together in a coiled mess that left saliva dripping down into the scant space between them.
Tattoo snorted, grunting and tightening his grip on her back until it felt like he might snap her in two. Then, all at once, he relaxed and let out a long, elated groan, causing Diana to slide down his pulsing length one last time while it pumped away inside of her. She tilted her head forward to place their foreheads together and let out a carefully constructed moan of mixed relief and pleasure, acutely aware of the blossom of intense warmth inside of her womb. One more load inside her… one more chance to be made the mother of one of her rapist’s bastards. She shuddered in disgust and hoped it looked like pleasure.
Tattoo turned up his head and kissed her again, breathless, his tongue once again wrapping around hers as he inexorably filled her from below until, finally, he was still inside her. After they tumbled apart Tattoo hastily redressed, leaving Diana panting on the dirty pile of straw that served as her bedding. She was still lost in her self-loathing, shame, and disgust when she finally noticed he had something in his hand, something he had withdrawn from his satchel. He held it out to her as she gazed up at him.
“Here,” he said while Diana rose shakily to her knees. It was a small clay jar, no larger than a child’s fist that he held out to her. “Take it.”
“What is it?” she asked as he passed it to her.
“It’s a…” he hesitated. He refused to look her in the eye, turning away and scratching his cheek as if embarrassed. “It’s a salve. For you. For your breasts.” Diana looked down at the jar with surprise. Indeed, it did seem to contain some kind of green paste. She… she was worried about the condition of her new piercings. They hadn’t exactly been placed under the most clean of circumstances, and they were obviously feeling swollen and tender.
“I’ll collect the jar later, so nobody finds out,” he said with his back turned. “Hide it under your bedding in the meantime.” With that he hastily began to leave, a key clicking in the lock of her cell door before it swung open to allow him exit.
“Thank you,” she called after him, still taken aback. He only grunted before the door swung shut behind him. She lifted the jar up to her face, giving it an experimental sniff. She couldn’t catch anything other than the heady scent of botanicals. She was wary of some new trick, or punishment, but so desperate for relief for her aching nipples was she that she dipped a finger into the gooey paste and rubbed a bit into the pebbly ring of her areola. She braced for some burning or stinging sensation, more than halfway convinced that this was going to be some kind of stinging poison… but found only a cool numbness suffusing through her tender nipples. It was a relief beyond any mere label, and Diana marveled at that scrap of mercy that made a mockery of all of the “rewards” she had received from the Elder’s twisted games. She wasted no time treating each one with a layer of the stuff before settling against the far wall of her cell. Diana began meticulously scooping out all of Tattoo’s semen from her throbbing pussy with a crooked finger… she doubted it would make a difference, but if there was any chance, she would take it. To her growing disgust, each time she did this, her stomach began to growl. Hate it though she did, her stomach had begun to learn that cum made up the majority of her diet these days, and she never, ever fed enough that she wasn’t hungry. She was resolutely wiping it off beneath the straw and ignoring the urge, but part of her feared that someday she wou-
“He seems sweet,” said a voice.
Diana jumped up from where she sat, adrenaline flooding her. “Leona?” she asked the open air. She spun around, looking for the source of the voice, but saw only dark stone bricks. She imagined for a moment that she might have finally gone insane in this place.
“I overheard you two once Areion finished having his way with me,” Leona said.
“Thumbs?” Diana asked. She crept closer to the wall that ran perpendicular to the cell door, narrowing in on where the other woman’s voice was emanating from.
“What?” Leona questioned.
Diana grew closer to the source. It seemed that Leona knew Thumbs’ real name. That would make sense… she had been the commander of the Ra’Horak, after all. “Nevermind,” Diana hissed in frustration. “I hope he fucked you raw, slut.” The silver-haired girl was pulled out of her spite suddenly when she remembered that Thumbs had interrupted them in the middle of her own session. “Wait, you finished before we did?”
“You don’t necessarily need technique or enthusiasm if you have vigor and sufficient desire to have it over with,” Leona replied.
“Disgusting,” Diana growled, sullenly aware even as she said it that her own thoughts had mirrored those earlier. She resolutely put that out of her mind… this was all that bitch’s fault, after all. At last, she found the source of Leona’s voice: a small crack that ran through the wall had an opening just wide enough for air to pass through. “But that always was your style, wasn’t it? Straightforward attack at the ‘problem,’ no matter who or what gets hurt along the way?”
Diana looked at the small hole in the wall from every angle. It just didn’t make sense. Could they really be so careless? Through a combination of blindfolds, dim lighting, and moving her around quite often, they’d made sure that she couldn’t really get a good grasp on the layout of her prison. And sure, constantly molesting and raping her probably wasn’t the safest means of torture — there were plenty of ways to do that without gluing their bodies together — but they had always been meticulous. It seemed strange that they would overlook something like that now.
The more Diana thought about it, however, the more she realized that it didn’t really matter whether they meant to set up the scenario or not. It was true that their captors had been somewhat reticent to let the two women speak freely, but it’s not like it really mattered in the end. She didn’t care a whit about what the traitorous bitch next to her had to say. And whatever insights she had into the situation were better off known by everyone than to just the woman herself. It’s not like Diana just wanted to have a conversation with someone who wasn’t trying to rape her. Not at all.
“Leona,” Diana purred. She found herself leaning over in front of the small crack in the wall. It wasn’t really enough to see anything substantial through, but it let muffled sounds pass through the thick stone well enough. “You silly, silly thing.” If Leona had pressed her eye up to small crack, she might have been able to just make out the grin that split Diana’s face. If she had had fangs, they would have been completely visible and glinting in the low light. “What could you have possibly done to make your own turn on you?”
“I came looking for you,” she replied. “I received word that you were at the temple.”
“To finish me off, yes?” she asked with a sneer to mask how much it hurt. “Like when you followed me up to the peak? You hate me that much?”
There was a pregnant pause. “No.”
Diana drew her lips back from her teeth. “I don’t believe you,” she spat. “Not for one second.”
“I came to find you,” Leona said, and there was a note like pleading in her voice. “I wanted to talk to you. To help you.”
Fat chance of that. The singular truth there was that The Elder had turned on the physical manifestation of their most revered aspect. From the horrors that Leona had endured, and Diana had been intimately involved enough to know that it was no act, she truly was being imprisoned and tortured. What had been the true purpose of that act? Was it some internal power schism within the corrupted order itself? Or was it truly a punishment for attempting to free Diana? She didn’t believe the latter for one second. “Even now, you can’t tell the truth… can’t face the truth that I was right about the church, was right about everything.”
“You were,” Leona agreed. “I know that now.”
“Too late,” she growled. The furious Lunari girl was still for a moment then. It was true that she was the Aspect of the Moon now, but she had only the vaguest idea what that meant… her memories were fuzzy. What she did know was that the scorn she felt for Leona, the memories of the Lunari being betrayed and hunted down and slaughtered by the Solari, were not her own… the anger and pain was not entirely her own. It didn’t matter. Leona deserved to bare it. “Then will you sacrifice yourself to help me escape?” Diana asked. Leona was quiet. “Hah,” Diana scoffed. “Didn’t think so.”
“No, I will,” Leona said quietly after a moment. Diana had to strain to hear it, unsure at first if the words had actually been said. “I will.”
“Bullshit,” Diana spat. “I won’t need you anyway. These ogres only think with their cocks. I’ll have one of them wrapped around my finger before you know it, and I’ll leave you here to rot.”
“You should do it if you can,” Leona replied. “You always were the likable one.” Diana was taken aback at this. Not necessarily at her indifference to being left behind; that was expected, they were enemies. But Diana had never considered herself charismatic in particular. Leona had always been the more outspoken. How exactly had the Solari seen her when they had been trained together? What did she think of her even now?
“Any chance you’d share that salve?” Leona asked, breaking her train of thought.
Diana looked down at the empty jar, already all used up. “Eat shit, Leona.” Yep. Charismatic. That was her. Filled with frustration, Diana threw herself down against the wall again and leaned her head back against it, saying no more. Sleep was a long time coming… but thankfully, Leona didn’t talk again.