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Someone wrote in
2012-02-16 05:59 pm (UTC)
Make You Hurt (Condense♥Dualscar, M, consensual torture (fantasy))
'Torment me, my beauty.'
Dualscar counts himself as the greatest of the Empress's attendants, the one who has clawed his way to the front of her line of admirers and will not relinquish his place there for anything. He has the honor - the privlidge - of standing the closest behind her, almost close enough to touch the very edge of her long black hair, although if he were to dare to do such a thing her guard would cut him down in a moment.
It's not enough. The tiny scraps and pieces that she will give him are never enough, but they are enough to keep him following, begging for more. Begging for her to take him, to give him the only affection that she is able to give. Oh, how he pities her for that, for not being able to show a gentle emotion even when she is alone.
'Let me be your sin-eater, Empress mine,' he wants to say as she rakes her claws down his stomach, leaving violet furrows in his slate-grey skin. 'Do what you must do, commit the terrible deeds that you must commit, and then let me suffer for them. I give my pain to you, my Empress, to do with what you will.'
Pain would be better than this horrible isolation, this loneliness. Is it any wonder that he envies his kismesis her red dalliances? Hers might be horribly inappropriate, her blood polluted by lowblooded slaves, but at least she has what he lacks. Her playmates look her in the eye with pity, and even if it is false, it is more than he has ever had.
'Look at me, Empress,' he wishes he could say without fear. 'I am mighty and my blood is pure. I am worthy of you, beautiful Condense. Please, do what you would with me.' But even then she has not yet denigned to notice him; he follows five steps behind, always behind, and she never even looks back. He understands - she cannot show her pity, cannot show weakness in front of even the highest of her subjects. And yet... every time he sees her begin to turn her face towards him, only to sneer and look away, he burns with her pity even more.
He understands that, too.
She would only harm Dualscar because she pities him so.
Just look at him. He is tall and proud and fearsome on the seas, and yet he follows her, pining for her like a lost wriggler waiting for the approval of a mother who has already forgotten him. He will not meet her gaze; his violet eyes are forever downcast, forever averting themselves, and no amount of teasing or taunting will make him lift them. He accepts her vilest insults with only a slight darkening of his features, and an almost-imperceptable flutter in his neck-gills, and it drives her utterly mad; the only thing that stops her from claiming him then and there is her sense of propriety, and the knowledge that to her people pity is often a weakness.
He is pathetic, and she dreams of gently laying him down on her claiming-table, of tightening the screws that stretch his elegant limbs akimbo, of smelling the sweet scent of scorched flesh as she brands him. She wants to hear him scream in pain - he does not look like the sort to scream easily, and she wants to coax those cries out of him. She is his mistress, now and forever, and she will ensure that he knows it.
She has tortured those that she hates before, many times. She draws out their torment, giving them no chance to heal until they have gasped their last, but she does not make their deaths quick or easy. But this... this is different. She will hurt him, but she will not destroy him. She will make him suffer, then force him to heal. She will make his blood flow and then let him recover, so that she can cut him again.
Pain will shape him, mold him into a stronger troll. He might be mighty now, but he is not worthy of her. If he lives - if he is able to survive the consequences of his own arrogance long enough that she is able to act - then she will take him. She will make him worthy.
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