Through out its history, London beheld many of the powerful and wealthy, but never before had the likes of him walked its streets. A man more surreptitious than Jack the Ripper mysteriously appeared from the shadows one grey spring morning and began a casual stroll about the old city as if he had always belonged there.
He'd catch the eye of women and men alike, curious about this stranger in their midst, but far too fearful of his domineering demeanor to approach him. His posture was pristine, his height measuring just slightly above average. His raven hair swept back on his head with a rebellious antenna like bang protruding upwards from the center of his hairline. His black eyes were easily intimidated those who dared make contact with them, and to manipulate their attention to the soulless irises were a pair of dark markings that encased the skin of the eye socket and curved to a point on the sides of the bridge of his nose. The clothes he wore were out of place, but not necessarily foreign to the country: he wore rich, dark colored costuming from what many Englishmen would assume dated to the Tudor era. A shirt and tunic with puffed sleeves at the shoulder, belt, trousers, boots, and for added drama, a cape. He accessorized with various rings on his fingers, a silver loop earring in his left earlobe and a jeweled clasp for his flowing cloak. While this drew him a fair share of stares and whispers, the busy folk of London deemed him not a threat, but perhaps an actor on break from filming a period piece.
He walked with purpose, in search of something as if it were some noble quest bestowed to him. Yet whatever he sought seemed to be eluding him for he spent many hours pacing the paved roads. He would not be detoured however, and continued his hunt into dusk when at long last he spotted exactly what he was after: a girl (or young woman if he were to be more accurate in placing her age).
She was a rather ordinary creature wearing earthy colored trousers, a white T-shirt with faded black capped sleeves, a pair of black flats, and a worn shoulder bag weighing down her right side. She had soft blonde hair and eyes with an indiscernible color: at a glance, grey, or perhaps hazel, and at times flecks of green made them appear olive in color. Eyes like the sea that changed color depending on the mood of sky. Her air was calm and ineffective to her environment and the people surrounding her – the aura of one who did not belong amongst them. Singled out by the man, her very existence was set to be erased from the world. He'd come for her.
The girl adjusted her bangs to either side of her face in a check of her appearance in a shop window before she continued on her way home from another day of menial labor. She ached as she often did after such a shift and rubbed her shoulder in hopes of alleviating some of the unpleasant stiffness from her body.
Strangely, she seemed to sense the man's presence. Dozens of people accompanied her on the street, but never before had she felt like she was being followed. She tried to reason that fatigue was causing the paranoia and continued her trek home with added awareness. The anxiety only grew and fear crept into her mind, causing her pace to quicken, but her pursuer kept up – the clicking of his boots on the pavement echoed into her ear like the tolling of bells as if their finale chime signified the end of her time on Earth.
And echoed faded into silence. An eerie silence. London had never been so quiet. The dread she felt remained, but optimistically she thought the sudden silence meant she succeeded in evading her fate. Cautiously, she turned the corner at the end of the block and nearly collided into the man's chest. She caught herself mere inches from making physical contact and slowly raised her head to see his face, despite a voice screaming in her head that she not.
Their eyes met.
She jumped back immediately and had all means of apologizing for almost bumping into him, but she forgot how to speak the instant his gaze befell hers. She was wary of his presence, but intrigued by his enchanting good looks. Though the voice of reason within her told her to flee, her feet remained frozen in place. She became aware of her heart beat in the silence exchanged between them and felt her cheeks blush for no sensible reason other than her body's delight to behold such a gorgeous man. Her youth made attraction simple and uncontrollable, and she was very aware of it, and prayed that he hadn't noticed.
It occurred to her he must want something from her as he didn't step aside to continue walking, but he hadn't said a word or otherwise expressed his intentions. Perhaps he was waiting for an apology.
She gathered what bravery she could and cleared her throat to speak, "I'm sorry sir, please excuse me."
He smiled, but didn't budge, and then he spoke. "Mirelle Blom, is it?"
"It is…" she replied slowly, wondering how he knew her name. She was certain she'd never seen him before. He wasn't the sort of man whose face was easily forgotten.
"I've come personally to take you home," he extended his right hand forward, beckoning for hers.
"Um, no thank you…" she gripped the strap of her bag nervously and took a step back. "I can make it back on my own."
He raised an eyebrow suspiciously and took a step forward to reduce the distance she just put between them.
However at he moved forward, she took another step back.
"Why do you hesitate?" He asked with irritation in his voice. "I haven't the time to dawdle. Now, come."
"NO!" She shouted defiantly and darted back around the corner and up the street. Her bag slipped from her shoulder as she turned and she cast it aside in favor of running without it bouncing against her hip. His voice was far too commanding and scary for her pleasure, but she feared she waited to long to heed her instinct to flee.
He confirmed her suspicions by marching after her and she was just foolish enough to turn her head to witness it.
"HELP!" She screamed and continued running, yet no one noticed. In panic, she rushed toward a large set gentleman for assistance, but fell right through him as if he were a ghost. "Wh-What…?"
"You're making this far more complicated than necessary," he spoke behind her.
She whirled around, afraid to keep her back to him, but just as fearful to face him head on. "What's going on?! What do you want with me?!"
"You have the honor of being my new toy, Mirelle," he grinned.
She didn't like the sound of that. In fact, there was now nothing agreeable about this man, not even his Adonis like beauty. Everything surrounding him turned to shadows, engulfing the world she recognized and creeping towards her intending to consume her as well.
He closed the distance between them once again, bringing the darkness with him.
"N-No…! Stop it! Get away from me!" She squeezed her eyes shut and screamed at the top of her lungs as she felt her body being pulled downward. It felt like she was falling, but only for a few seconds when suddenly the wind rushing past her calmed. She hesitantly opened her eyes, expecting to awake from a dream, and instead found herself gently floating into a spacious room with décor dating back by her estimation a good few centuries back to the renaissance. It wasn't until her feet touched the floor that she realized the mysterious man had his arms wrapped around her torso and she was clinging to his chest for dear life.
"There, was that really worth your dramatics?" He asked, keeping one hand around her waist while the other moved some stray bangs behind her ear.
She froze for a moment, her mind needing just a bit longer to process the situation before she once again screamed as loud as she could. "LET GO!"
"You're in no position to argue, my dear," his lips curling into a devilish smile.
Her struggles were futile as he put his strength to use and ushered her over and onto the mattress of the four-post canopy bed. The instant she landed against the feathery down, she knew exactly what he meant by the word 'toy' and was determined to thwart his vile plans no matter what – only screaming wasn't getting her anywhere and she was no where near strong enough to push him off. It was only by chance as he attempted to pin her that he gave her leg an opening to very successfully stop him.
Her kick to his groin was direct, paralyzing him instantly and causing a pained groan to escape him.
Seizing the opportunity, she freed her arms and pushed him off of her.
"UGN! You little…!" He groaned, cupping himself protectively until the pain dispersed.
She hurried off the bed and ran for the door and to her misfortune found it locked. She grabbed the handle with both hands and tried desperately to break her way through, but all the adrenaline in her body still didn't give her the strength to bust through the thick wooden door.
The man winced as he got to his feet and glared at her. "You'll be punished if you do that again."
"Let me go!" She pleaded, bracing her back to the door. "I won't tell the police! I promise! Just let me go!"
"Heh, after all the trouble I've gone through I'm not about to 'let you go'," he smirked.
"PLEASE!" She cried, this time with tears misting in her eyes. "I-I don't have much money, but if—"
"I have no need of your money," he said, regaining his composure and striding toward her – this time with the presence of mind to guard himself. "Behave, and you'll be taken care of."
Hot tears streamed down her cheeks and she slowly shook her head, still defiant despite her fears.
He reached forward with the intent to attempt bedding her again.
"DON'T HURT ME!" She cried, holding her arms around herself defensively.
"Hurt you?" He lowered his hand to his side, perplexed by the idea this silly girl thought he meant to do her harm. "What a bold assumption. I have no desire to 'hurt' you, Mirelle."
"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" She continued crying. "I don't know how you know my name, but if you were any kind of proper stalker you'd know everyone calls me 'Elle'!"
"Elle," he repeated the name and found it much more appealing on the tongue. A simple, monosyllabic name he could call out in a single breath was much more to his liking. He too also understood the irritancy that came with being called by one's full name when a nickname was more commonly used and decided now was a good a time as any to introduce him. "I am Mathias Dormaeus, but you can call me 'Mias'."
"I don't care who you are!" Elle's cries continued. "Please, just leave me alone!"
"Very well," he sighed in disappointment, but the poor thing was exhausting herself on tears and wouldn't be in any shape to receive him properly. He decided to withdraw from her presence for now and try again tomorrow after she had a chance to rest and acclimate to her new surroundings.
Elle was surprised to hear he'd listened to her and slowly stepped aside from the door to let him out, though her clever mind just wanted the door to be opened so she could make a run for it.
Mias grabbed the door handle and turned it confidentially. It clicked open without the use of a key which further baffled her. He turned his head slightly, a cocky smile on his face, "Good night, Elle."
Elle felt like he read her mind and just stood there as Mias opened the door, departed the room, and shut it behind him. She instantly tried to open it again herself, thinking that perhaps in her panic earlier she'd simply been unable to turn the mechanism, but to her shock, it was already locked again and had no intention of yielding to her desire to escape.
She backed away from the door, holding her hands to her chest and fidgeting her fingers in her distress. Being alone brought her some peace, but that didn't change the fact she was trapped in strange surroundings. The room didn't have a foreboding aura, but it wasn't exactly welcoming. A 21st century girl didn't fit in amongst ornately carved woodwork and furniture. It was incredibly uncomfortable.
Elle wished she hadn't dropped her bag. Had she known her attempts would be in vain, she could have at least called for help on her cell phone or used her keys as a weapon. Now she had nothing but the clothes on her back and the shoes on her feet – none of which would be any use to aide her escape.
The window!
She realized there was always more than one way out and hastily crossed the room to one of the large windows. She searched about for the latch to open the panes but was unable to move it. Whether it was the age of window or just her lack of physical strength, she wasn't getting out that way either.
"Oh god… help me… please help me…" Elle prayed and backed herself onto the bed, slowly letting herself sink into the comforter. She hugged herself and began trembling as fresh tears welled in her eyes. She kicked her shoes off and collapsed onto the bed, curling herself into the fetal position and wailing like a small child for its mother.
But Elle's mother, and her father for that matter, couldn't come to her rescue. They were taken from her in a car accident over a year ago, leaving her to her own devices since she hadn't the benefit of any other living relatives. She wondered if Mias knew this. It would make sense to target someone without a family. They were less likely to be missed. She had friends, but work ate up a great deal of her time so her social group wouldn't notice her absence. Her employers certainly would and quickly hire a new set of hands to replace her. Someone no one would miss. Someone who was easily replaced. Elle realized she probably was the ideal victim for a deviant.
And here she was, crying in a bed that he'd likely chain her to next time he came in. What good could she possibly be even as a 'toy'? If suffering amused him so, why did he specifically say he didn't want to harm her? To gain her trust? To let her guard down? If he wanted her for sex, there were plenty of other girls in the world – ones with experience at that, who'd be much better suited for entertaining him. So why her? Did he have a fetish for blondes? She could think of no other reason why he'd be interested. Why? WHY?! Nothing made sense! Including how he'd brought her here. Had he slipped her some drug and she blacked out for a while? If she had, why wouldn't he take the opportunity then to rape her? Maybe he was sick enough to want her awake when he did so. He was disgusting! A troll in a god's skin! She'd cry for now, sleep and recover her strength, then find a way out tomorrow.
Elle's thoughts remained her own, but unbeknownst to her she remained under surveillance. Mias watched her from the safety of his room through a bit of green flame dancing in the palm of his right hand as he lounged in the bath to rid his skin of the city's foul stench. He curled his fingers inward and slowly the flames and the image of Elle vanished. He sighed and ran a finger through his wet hair before sinking further down into the warm water. Things hadn't gone according to plan, a first for him actually. He expected some resistance, that's what made it fun, but she seemed completely immune to his charm and her subsequent tears troubled him. All the girls before her had been delighted he'd taken an interest in them, why wasn't this one similarly impressed? She was a different breed from his usual mistresses: completely ungrateful of the opportunity he'd given her. Perhaps this one wouldn't be won with generosity, but she would indeed be won.
The mere thought delighted him. Never before had he worked from scratch with a lover. He'd consider it an artistic experience to mold her into the perfect bed partner. It'd be such good fun and well worth the trouble of bringing her from another world. All he needed now was the perfect way to make her succumb to his advances.
When Elle woke up that morning, she optimistically thought last night was just the result of a fatigued subconscious. A dream. A bad dream. That's what it had to be. The odds of something this phenomenal happening to the likes of her were impossible! It was just a nightmare, she thought just before opening her eyes. Her vision adjusted to the canopy of the bed and quickly darted from fixture to fixture: this wasn't her flat. It was the room that black haired bastard imprisoned her in. It hadn't been a dream. It was all too real.
She gradually brought herself upright and slowly opened and closed her eyes. They ached from crying and she had a slight headache. Falling asleep in her clothes didn't make her feel much better either.
"Hm, this won't do," she heard Mias' voice comment on her appearance and turned her head to a chair adjacent to the bed where he sat, eyes transfixed on her.
In her shock, she backed herself too far to the opposite side of the bed and tumbled to the floor.
"What are you doing?" He asked.
"I-I should ask you the same thing!" She said as she peered over the bed.
"I, my sweet Elle, decided our meeting yesterday wasn't handled with the greatest care. So to show you I bear you no ill will, you may have a second chance at a first impression."
"What nonsense are you going on about?!" She got to her feet to shout at him properly.
He ignored her question. "It would please me if you prettied yourself up a bit, not that I'm disenchanted with disheveled hair and wrinkled clothing, but I know how women want to always look their best for their man and so it'd be selfish of me to have you as you are."
He was being quite selfish in Elle's opinion. She didn't want to do anything he'd find pleasing. If it would make him lose interest, she'd gladly neglect her hygiene until he found her too disgusting to keep. "You won't 'have' me at all! You hear me?!"
"You're spirited," he smiled. "I like that in a woman."
"ARGH!" Elle grunted in frustration and threw a vase of roses from the nearby nightstand right at his head. It smashed against his temple and shattered to the floor. "GET IT THROUGH YOUR THICK SKULL! I! AM! NOT! INTERESTED!"
"Oww…!" He held the side of his head as a bit of blood trickled down from a cut on his temple. His closed his left eye to avoid getting blood in it, but his right eye was plenty to glare her down. "How dare you? I've graciously opened my home to you and this is the thanks I get? You ungrateful girl."
Elle regretted the rash decision, but at least violence made communicating with him easier. She backed herself into the corner of the room as he marched toward her taking long strides.
"I warned you if you tried something like that again you'd be punished," he said threateningly as he loomed over her.
"I… I'm not scared of you!" She said bravely through trembling lips.
"You should be," he said as he slowly removed his hand from the wound whereupon the skin miraculously healed before her, yet the flecks of blood remained. "Now, if you apologize I may reconsider your punishment, but you have to be sincere."
She shook her head, despite her fears. There was no way she could apologize for something she desperately wanted to do again.
"Let me hear you say, 'I'm sorry Mias, please forgive me,'" he said as he touched the backs of his fingers against her cheek.
"…No," Elle said defiantly.
"What?"
"You heard me! I said 'no!'" She slapped his hand off her cheek and shoved him as hard as she could muster, freeing enough room between him and the wall for her to slip away from him and head for the door.
"Elle!" He called after her.
To Elle's surprise, the door was open this time and she hurried out of the room without looking back. She found herself running down a long corridor with many doors and portraits on the walls, but she didn't have time to give them closer inspection with Mias promptly chasing after her.
"Stop this foolishness!" He called after her.
"NO!" She shouted and rounded a corner and down a stairwell. She spied a set of large, twin doors and knew they had to be the entrance to the building.
Mias could tell what she was thinking and jumped the stairs, landing on his feet with the grace of a cat, and caught up to her just before she could grab the door handle. He snatched her into his arms and quickly dragged her back.
"NO! LET GO!" Elle screamed while kicking and struggling to escape his clutches.
"Stop screaming," he commanded, cupping her jaw roughly.
Since he made the mistake of getting his hand too close, Elle promptly bit his hand as hard as she could.
The amount of violence in her continued to surprise Mias, and he unfortunately released her after having her teeth sink into his skin in a less-than-romantic manner.
Elle jabbed her elbows into his chest for good measure and ran toward the front doors, opened on, and ran out into a world that resembled the countryside of England, but had a much different feel to it. She found it troublesome to run on the dirt roads in socks, but the pain was worth the price of freedom. And she knew she was close to achieving it. She could feel strong winds helping her run down the pathway that ran downhill towards a stretch of coastline. So she was near the ocean, she noted as she kept running.
"Elle! Come back here at once!" Mias continued his pursuit, and with the benefit of boots and a better stamina, was quickly catching up with her.
Elle had to think of something, but the only idea coming to mind was quite drastic and very risky, but she was desperate at this point to do anything to escape this man. She ran from the path toward the cliff face and turned around when she reached the edge. "If you come anywhere near me, I'll jump!"
"What? Don't be foolish!" Mias caught up to her, but remained at a few yards distance since she'd put herself in a precarious situation.
"I mean it!" She stared him down, her expression determined to win her freedom. "It's my life and I'll do whatever I want with it! If dying means I avoid being your prisoner, that's perfectly fine with me!"
"You're being illogical and unreasonable. You are by no means my 'prisoner'. You my toy; my pet, and I shall take very good care of you," he explained in a rather suave voice and tested her threat by taking a few steps toward her.
"I don't want to be your toy or your pet!" She took a step back, letting her foot free a bit of loose dirt from the cliff face. Out of her peripheral vision, Elle could see the jagged rocks at the bottom being continually swept over with powerful waves. If the fall didn't kill her, she'd drown, but either was better than being some sex slave to some mental egotist who clearly had no thought for the feelings of others.
Mias bit his lower lip in frustration. This woman was quite the challenge and not one he wanted to lose, especially when they'd only just begun their game. A grin came to his face and he stepped forward.
"Not another step!" Elle demanded. "I swear I'll jump!"
"Then do it," he said calmly, continuing towards her.
Mias knew as well as Elle did that she truly didn't want her life to end, but nature helped Elle make good on her threat and the earth beneath her crumbled and eroded. She screamed as she fell backward, all the sudden quite aware of her mortality, but when her body failed to plummet her to her death, her screams stopped and she looked to Mias.
He had his arm outstretched with a green light outlining his hand.
Elle noticed a similar bit of light encircled her as well and was probably what was preventing her fall. "Wh-What is this?"
"Your ultimatum," Mias smirked. "You come back quietly with me and be grateful I've now saved your life as well as given you a wonderful new home or you can continue to defy me and make things very unpleasant for yourself. Either way, you're mine."
Elle clenched her hands into fists and tried to fight the tears, but they came anyway. She was truly powerless against him and to be made so weak was humiliating. She hung her head in acknowledgment of her own shame and felt herself drifting back over the land.
Mias smiled victoriously and canceled the spell, letting Elle drop into his arms.
Elle kept her head lowered and her eyes hidden behind her bangs, allowing her to cry silently as Mias took her back to his home and the room she hoped she'd never see again.
"Now, let's get you bathed and cleaned," he announced, opening up a smaller side door within the room that opened into a washroom with a cast iron tub, a pedestal sink, a toilet with elevated cistern and pull chain flusher, and a few shelves that had perched upon them several bottles of different shapes and colors, a stack of fluffy white towels, and a few other toiletries.
Elle found herself back on her own two feet and slowly drifted back to reality when she heard the sound of water running.
"Hair washed, body scrubbed, calluses removed, and once you've toweled off be sure to moisturize," he instructed.
"…And if I refuse?" She asked.
"I'll strip you down and do it myself," he grinned.
"Fine," she replied and just stood there, expecting him to leave. When he didn't, she became uneasy. "Is there something else you needed?"
"Nothing in particular. I'm just waiting for you to disrobe so I can see what I have to work with."
"I won't do it with you watching!" She said, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment.
"You seem to forget you're not the one in charge here," he grinned.
"P-Please…" She said reluctantly. "I'll take a bloody bath, just let me have privacy to do so…"
Mias heaved a disappointed sigh, "very well."
"…Thank you…" Using polite language with him made Elle sick to her stomach, but it at least succeeded in his leaving the bathroom.
While Mias was disappointed he couldn't witness the live show, he still had his ways of getting what he wanted. He flopped down on the bed, tucking his left arm behind his head and holding out his right and summoning a ball of green fire that freely burned in the center of his palm. The flames slowed to a swirling mist and gradually the scene playing out in the washroom was revealed to him.
Elle was cautious to remove her clothes in fear Mias would burst in on her at any moment, but after a few minutes of no interruption she turned off the tub's faucet and began to disrobe, starting with her socks. She tossed them into a whicker basket on the lowest shelf and next removed her pants, followed by her shirt. She brushed her bangs back a bit and then reached back to unhook her bra. The undergarment found its way into the basket, quickly accompanied by her panties, and Elle stood bashfully naked with one arm covering her breasts still just in case she was interrupted.
Mias had no plan to interrupt, though he very much would have liked to. For now he'd have to suffice using his magic to get his first glimpse at what all she had to offer. Not a whole lot in terms of curves or cleavage, but he surmised her breasts would fit comfortably in the palms of his hands. Her buttocks was reasonable supple too and it was tempting him to assist her with her bath.
But Elle was perfectly capable of tending to herself. She sunk into the warm water and propped her knees up to rest her chin on. She let out a depressed puff of air through her nose and tilted her head back to let the rest of her hair get wet. Her legs slowly stretched out and she sunk down under the water for a moment. She came back up and looked at the few bottles Mias had picked out for her to use. She sighed and picked up the one with the substance closest to shampoo as far as she could tell and poured a bit into her hand before scrubbing it into her scalp. The scent was pleasant, but indiscernible. Elle couldn't tell if it was a fruit, a flower, or some other plant extract, but she leisurely continued the bathing process.
Though he was enjoying the show, Mias was growing impatient of waiting for her even though in reality it'd been less than ten minutes.
With the conditioner now in her hair, Elle began washing her body and when she'd finished with that, she took the pumice stone to her hands and feet to smooth away the calluses she'd built up with hard work. With her skin now smooth, it seemed every trace of her past was set to be scrapped from existence, though it did feel nice to finally have a chance to remove those harden patches of skin and be able to feel smooth and soft like a girl rightly should. Only this wasn't for her satisfaction, but for his, though Elle still have no intention of letting Mias lay his hands on her, she'd at least try to appease him a little so she'd somehow be able to use it to her advantage and plot a new plan of escape.
She rinsed the conditioner and excess soap from her body and stood up, letting as much water as possible drip off her before she stepped out of the tub. She wrung out her hair then grabbed a towel from the shelf and dried herself off. She wrapped the towel around herself and went to the basket to get her clothes, when she heard Mias call out to her.
"You won't be needing clothes," he said, closing his right hand and dispersing the green flames before he began ridding his own body of clothing.
Elle found it curious for him to have said that just as she was fixing to put something on. She honestly didn't want to put the dirty clothing back on, but facing Mias in just a towel seemed far more disgusting.
"There's no need to be shy," he tried to coax her out while folding his trousers and shirt and setting them on top of the trunk at the foot of the bed.
"Sod off," Elle said as she opened the door and stepped into the room with every towel available wrapped around her. One was wrapped and twisted around her hair, one was around her torso, and the last one was draped over her shoulders.
"Pfft—!" Mias put his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. "What's all this?!"
"I'm not letting you see me naked," she said stubbornly, not knowing he already had. It was hard for her not to notice that Mias was naked as well, but perhaps if she failed to comment on it, it wouldn't become a concern.
"Is that so?" He lowered his hand, revealing a smirk and slid to the edge of the bed to put his feet on the floor. "You still don't seem to comprehend the situation that you're in, my dear."
"I-I understand! I'm not stupid you know! But if you think I'm just going to 'accept' being your prisoner, you're sadly mistaken! Y-You… don't seem to be an entirely bad guy, otherwise you would have already—"
Mias interrupted her with a low chuckle. "Not entirely bad? How sweet, but you're the one who's mistaken."
Elle didn't have time to respond or prevent his arm from striking forward, seizing her arm, and swiftly pulling her onto the bed where he made haste in pinning her to prevent unnecessary kicks.
"If you surrender, it'll be much more enjoyable. I promise," he grinned, pinning both arms above her head at the wrist with one hand while the other pulled away the towels – one at a time, casually tossing them onto the floor until she was bare-skinned beneath him.
"STOP IT, YOU PERVERT!" Elle shouted as the last towel concealing her torso was removed and sent to the floor with the others. Her skin prickled up in the open hair, unintentionally becoming more appealing to Mias as her nipples stiffened and she blushed in embarrassment, adding a pretty pink flush to her recently clean and glossy skin.
Mias smiled with intrigue and rubbed his index finger of his free hand just under her lower lip. "You're much more beautiful this way."
"It's a little late to try seducing me!" Elle argued.
"I find it's never too late," he countered, the same devilish grin still on his face as he lowered head over hers.
"STOP! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Elle shouted fearfully and felt his breath upon her lips. The bastard was going to kiss her! She quickly turned her head to the side and summoned all the strength she could to struggle against his hold. 'Don't let him kiss you!', her mind screamed, but there wasn't anything more she could do at this point to prevent it.
Rather gently, Mias pressed his lips down over hers like the motion would officially claim her as his. Too often women who protested his advances at first changed their minds after just a single kiss. He had confidence this was all Elle needed as well: a taste of glorious experience only he could offer her. As such, his mouth maintained a cocky smile as he drew back to witness her impending consent to his desires.
Elle admitted to herself that was the best kiss she'd experienced thus far in her life, but not amount of snogging was going to change her mind. She sucked her lips in, wiped off the sensation with her tongue, and spat the gathered saliva right onto his cheek.
Mias was shocked. His kiss had failed and what was worse it'd been spat back at him. The ungrateful little minx! How dare she tease him with her alluring form and tender lips and want nothing of him?! His patience was wearing thin, and he told her so while wiping her spit from his cheek. "I intended to be gentle the first time, but if you insist on being difficult, I have no objection to being rough."
"NO!" Elle shouted, only to have her voice muffled by another, more aggressive kiss.
Mias was true to his word and showed her no restraint with the one-sided affection. He cupped her chin in his hand before forcing his tongue through her lips. He felt her try to bite, but a tug on her lower jaw prevented her teeth from causing harm. His tongue swirled around hers, trying to coax it to do the same, but to his disappointment found it as shy and reluctant as the rest of her body.
Elle tried everything she could to push his head away from hers: she pulled his hair and tried to bite him, but all her struggles seemed to do at this point was fuel his excitement. Yet Elle kept squirming and moaning unpleasantly to show her resistance. The sensation of his tongue in her mouth wasn't at all as enjoyable as her romance novels and films led her to believe. It was a gross intrusion and one she desperately wished would stop, but at the same time she knew there were worse things he could be forcing inside her. As disgusting as it was, the longer he kissed her, the more time she had to think of how to stop him from doing anything else.
As if he could read her mind, Mias ended the kiss with a quick nibble of her lower lip, leaving it swollen from the intensity of his own. He licked his own lips in satisfaction of the kiss and to let her know without words how much he enjoyed the taste of her.
"You're vile…!" Elle cringed, allowing her eyes to pool with tears. She was angry, scared, and above all frustrated that she was powerless to stop him. All her long kept romantic dreams about her first time were also going to be snatched from her by this terrible, horrible man! How much more did he plan on taking from her? He had her freedom and wanted her virginity, but where would it end? With her hope? Her life? Elle felt so helpless she feared he even had the power to take her soul.
While Elle sniffled and tried to maintain some composure for the sake of her sanity, Mias took the opportunity to pry her legs apart.
"NO!" Elle cried when she noticed and with a sudden rush of adrenaline, nearly managed to buck him off her.
But 'nearly' wasn't enough. It didn't take Mias long to once again overpower her. He seemed rather amused she had so much fight in her, but had no intention of being tossed from her when he was so close to obtaining what he wanted. "Whoa… stubborn little filly, aren't you?"
"YOU BASTARD!" She screamed, and tried with all her might to push him off of her. His firm pectorals against her palms were an unfortunate indicator that Mias was in much better shape than she was and he likely wasn't even trying that hard.
Mias responded with a smirk, his right hand slowly running down the center of her torso and disappearing in between her legs.
"NOOOOOOOOOO!" Elle wailed at the top of her lungs. "PLEASE! I'M SORRY! DON'T DO IT! I'M BEGGING YOU!"
"It's a little late for that—"
"PLEASE!" Elle begged, tears streaming down her face like her eyes were faucets turned on full. "I'M SORRY I SPAT ON YOU! I'M SORRY I CALLED YOU NAMES! I'M SORRY! PLEASE FORGIVE ME, JUST PLEASE DON'T…!"
Mias frowned and heaved an annoyed sigh. "Cease that incessant blubbering…"
Elle stopped screaming, but she held no power over her tears and thus they continued to flow.
He looked down at her and sighed again, this time in defeat. He climbed off her and grabbed up his pants, then tossed her a kerchief from his pocket. "Calm yourself and get dressed. Everything you need is either in the wardrobe or on the vanity."
Elle was wiping away her tears on her hand when the kerchief fell near her hand. She was surprised he'd actually stopped. Her hand slowly curled around the square bit of soft material and she began to cry out of relief. "Thank… you…"
"This time," he said firmly, looking at her with malcontent while sliding on his trousers before turning to leave the room.
Elle collapsed back on to the bed, crying her frustrations into the comforter until she'd calmed down and was physical ready to recover from the attack. Her mind, however, would need quite a bit longer.
After regaining her composure, Elle went back into the bathroom to wash her face with cold water. It helped refresh and calm her spirit enough to assess her situation. She'd succeeded in stopping him this time, but Mias made it quite clear this was the only time he'd let have her way. Knowing the libido of a young man, next time might be as soon as a few hours from now. That didn't give her a whole lot of time to think of some other method of detouring him. She could tell him she was on her period to buy her a few days, but knowing her luck he wouldn't care whether she was on the rag or not. Perhaps she could convince him she had an STD, but that would seem far too convenient on her behalf and Elle knew she wasn't very good at lying. She already established Mias was no fool, so whatever she came up with would likely require all her cunning and cleverness.
She rinsed out her mouth to rid herself of the taste of him and coughed a bit when she accidentally swallowed a bit of water wrong. She braced her hands on both ends of the sink and found the courage to look at her reflection in the mirror before her. Her lips were still swollen and a bit bruised upon closer inspection, but aside from her lips the rest of her body remained blemish free and most importantly 'hers'. Summoning up her best game face, Elle vowed to the mirror she'd do whatever it took to protect herself. The ideal opportunity to escape would eventually present itself. All she needed to do was wait it out until then.
She brought in the towels from the room and hung them up to dry, then quickly rinsed her clothes in the tub and hung them up over the side to dry. With her bathroom business finished, she walked back into the room and over to the wardrobe so see just sort of clothing it contained. She feared she'd find nothing by see-through negligees and crotch-less panties. Cautiously, she opened one of the drawers and was pleasantly surprised to find normal knickers – well, at least they were nothing suggestive. The material seemed to be a sort of silk from what she could determine with touch. Elle resolved to try them on and did so, finding that the garment hugged her nether region quite comfortable – more so than her pair of pink cotton panties with the bit of lace – and those were good panties.
She opened another drawer in search of bras, but the only garment that came close was Elle equated to a bustier, and she feared she didn't have enough bust to fill the article of clothing. Her curiosity drove her to try it on anyway and much like the panties, it fit her form perfectly – which was even more curious. Had Mias intended to kidnap a girl who'd fit this size or had he picked the size to match hers? It brought up other disturbing questions like how did he know her name, but mostly Elle wondered where she was.
There was only so much coastline she could be near if she was still in England, but something about the air outside felt different from her home. She wasn't raised in London, so she knew what true country air felt like and the atmosphere outside was different. She couldn't explain how, but her intuition told her this wasn't territory she was familiar with. Perhaps she was in Wales or further north in Scotland, but Mias' didn't have an accent fitting either region. Logically, she assumed she was in some centuries-old manor with custom furniture to match and with features such as flush-toilets, she knew she hadn't somehow traveled back in time – not that she believed that was plausible either. In all likelihood, she was probably on a large stretch of land owned by Mias who built and developed the property to suit his fancy for the renaissance era. His arrogance and fine tastes made it clear he had a fortune to do with as he pleased. That theory made the most sense, she decided. Some eccentric millionaire had kidnapped her and brought her to his private estate knowing full well no one would look for her there or suspect him of any wrong doings. She did have to give him credit for his cleverness, but that still left one mystery: how the hell had he levitated her? It must have been some side-effect from a drug he slipped her – thus also explaining why she couldn't reason how she got here in the first place. Yes, he must have slipped her something. But when? She didn't remember drinking or eating anything prior to being brought here. Had he struck her over the head and knocked her unconscious that way? No, that didn't make sense. She reasoned her head would have hurt and there'd be a noticeable bump, but there was none.
She sat at the vanity and ran her fingers over the back of her head, just to double-check, and of course there wasn't one. She heaved a melancholy sigh and picked up one of the vintage hair brushes set atop the vanity and began brushing through her damp hair. After a few strokes, she switched to the comb to untangle the snarls, and then back to the brush to move her hair into its normal style.
Now all she had to do was pick out a dress from the wardrobe and she'd be decent, only the idea of wearing one of those fancy old-fashioned gowns was off-putting. Just what sort of fantasy would she be fulfilling by wearing one in Mias' presence? Even if they were beautifully designed dresses made of the finest fabrics, Elle knew they wouldn't make her feel comfortable. But she also couldn't go around in her knickers all day. That would be much worse and far more dangerous. She settled on a simple soft blue dress as it was a calming color and one that would hopefully stave Mias' lust. Keep calm and move forward; words easier said than done but she had no choice.
Fully dressed with her hair combed, Elle sat on the bed and wondered what her next plan of action was. She wondered how long she'd be confined to the room. She was growing hungry to the point she could feel her stomach beginning to eat at itself. A most unpleasant feeling, but one she was surprised she didn't have to suffer through too long.
There was a knock at the door just as she pondered her hunger. It sounded rather soft for a man's knock, which made her curious. Mias didn't seem the type to knock. He'd simply barge in. Maybe this was someone else. "Yes?"
The lock clicked open and the door opened wide enough for a small head to peer halfway in to the room. "If you're decent Miss Elle, I've come to fetch you."
"Huh?"
The door opened fully, revealed a brunette girl with twin braids that made her ears stick out, and big brown eyes. She looked to be a little younger than Elle, maybe 16 or 17, and wore a cream colored smock that exposed her skinny shoulders, light brown skirt, and a dark brown bodice and covered the front of the skirt with an off white apron. The top of her head was covered with a matching white handkerchief and she wore a pair of worn leather slippers on her feet. She was scrawny, and completely flat-chested, and not that Elle wanted to be rude, but she looked incredible plain. And oh how Elle would give to be as plain as possible given her current situation.
"Who are you?" Elle asked.
"Um, I'm not supposed to talk to you," she said nervously. "Master Mias will get mad…"
She must be a servant, Elle deduced. "Well can you at least tell me what you're fetching me for?"
"Lunch," she said simply.
Elle's stomach growled eagerly at the promise of food, but she didn't move. "I'm not eating with the likes of him."
"P-Please don't be difficult Miss," she pleaded. "If not for his sake, but for mine. I'm new to his staff and I've yet to make a good impression…"
"Then he's even more of an ass for taking his frustrations out on a poor girl," Elle folded her arms across her chest. "I'm not going to eat with him and that's final."
"Oh dear…" The girl murmured to herself and quietly closed the door.
Elle waited a few moments before she hurried over to the door to test the lock. To her good fortune, the absentminded maid had forgotten to lock it and it opened for Elle with ease. She cautiously peered out into the hallway and saw the girl turn the corner to head downstairs. Elle ran as silently as she could to the end of the hall and glanced around the corner to make sure the coast was clear. She tip-toed down the stairs, her eyes remaining vigilant for signs of trouble, but the manor's size was considerable enough for her to assume avoiding the eyes of only two individuals would be no problem.
"Where's the new mistress Retti?" A tenor male voice echoed through the hall.
"She's refusing to come out…" Elle heard the girl say. "Master Mias is going to scold me again. Can't you go fetch her?"
"You know the master will have a fit if I get anywhere near his mistresses."
Her curiosity once again getting the better of her, Elle got down on her hands and knees and crawled over to the railed side of the stairwell and peered down. She saw the servant girl conversing with a tall man with straight, off-white hair that hung at his shoulders. His complexion was pale, but opalescent under the flickering light of the gas lamp fixtures. Elle estimated his age around his late 20s or early 30s. He was wearing a sort court dress fashion that consisted of a white blouse with a ruffled neck, a crimson red waistcoat trimmed with gold embroidery and a matching knee-length jacket, slimming black trousers, and a pair of shiny black boots. The ensemble reminded Elle more of the French renaissance period given all the ruffles. Was he some sort of dandy, or just another man with an eccentric taste in fashion? Probably both given the airiness of his speech.
"Then will you at least be present when I inform Master Mias?"
"Certainly, but you know you needn't be so fearful," he smiled, and Elle noticed his incisor teeth were unusually pointy by human standards. "Master Mias isn't as bad as he seems."
"Like you'd ever say an unkind word about anyone, Malcolm," she pointed out as the two disappeared down a corridor together.
Elle got to her feet and hurried down the remaining stairs to the hall below. She wondered where those two had been hiding earlier when she tried her first escape. Of course perhaps she hadn't noticed them given her rush to flee the property. It made her wonder if there was any other staff she should keep an eye out for. However the path to the door was clear and Elle approached it with the greatest of caution, quietly opened one of the large twin doors, and silently slipped out – being sure to close the door behind her.
Meanwhile in the dining hall, Mias tapped his fingertips against the tabletop impatiently. He did not enjoy being kept waiting, but he didn't want Elle to think him rude if he began eating before she arrived. It wouldn't be proper.
"Go on," Malcolm had to push Retti into the room.
"A-Ahem," the girl cleared her throat to announce her presence.
"About time," Mias looked over to her and frowned to see Malcolm standing at the girl's side where he had expected Elle. "What's the meaning of this?"
"Sh-She doesn't want to come down," Retti explained nervously. "I-I tried to convince her, but—!"
"You stupid girl, can you do nothing right?" Mias stood, slamming the napkin from his lap down over his plate and marching past the two. "Must I do everything myself?"
"Now, now Master Mias," Malcolm followed after him with Retti keeping close behind him. "You can't blame Retti. You said so yourself this one is obstinately defiant."
"She had one job and once again disappoints me with her failure," Mias said harshly as marched up to Elle's room.
"I'm very sorry sir," the brunette hung her head in shame.
"I suppose it can't be helped," Mias sighed. "You're weak willed while Elle is strong."
"Master, please," Malcolm draped a slender arm over the girl's shoulder comfortingly as the three approached Elle's door.
"I want results, not excuses," Mias said firmly as he reached for the door knob and turned it, and much to his surprise found it already unlocked. He pushed the door open quickly and found the room empty. The door to the washroom was open and he could see no sign of Elle in there either. His temper manifested in a brief flash of green fire around his palms and he slowly turned, glaring down the poor maid with angry eyes. "You had one job, Anaret."
"I-I-I'm so sorry!" She said fearfully and tried to hide herself behind Malcolm.
Mias grabbed her by her right braid and pulled her out to face him. "You're through."
"No sir, please! I beg of you! Have mercy!"
"Pack her things and send her to Pius' house. He'll make good use of her," Mias smiled evilly.
"NO!" She cried.
Malcolm wrapped his arms protectively around the frightened girl. "Master Mias, don't you think you're being a little too hasty? She couldn't've gone far."
"Oh, I have no doubt I'll reclaim her, but the fact of the matter is my servant has made more work for me and that simply will not do," with an overly dramatic swish of his cloak, Mias left the room to recapture Elle. He trotted down the stairs at a quickened pace, but slowed himself once he arrived at the foot of the stairs and saw a large man walking into the hall with Elle struggling uselessly over his shoulder. "Ah, you've saved me some duress, Gale."
"I was figurin' since ya said she was a wild one I oughtta watch the grounds a bit more carefully," he smiled.
"Put me down you brute!" Elle beat her fists against his back but had no effect against the man's muscles.
Gale, a tall, muscular man in his early to mid 40s held Elle over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. His messy hair was pulled into a loosely tied ponytail in the back, an unshaven square jaw, and vibrant eyes. He wore a simple shirt with the sleeved rolled up, a vest that looked a bit too small for his broad torso, worn trousers held up by a sturdy belt, and dirty boots that he feared might stain Mias' rugs, so he kept to the marble tiles where his mess would be easier to clean up.
"Thank you Gale," Mias folded his arms behind his back. "You may put her down."
"As ya wish sir," he said, taking utmost care with Elle as he lifted her off his shoulder and set her back to her feet. "Now don'tchu be runnin' off no more. It's dangerous out there fer a young lady."
"It's dangerous in here!" Elle yelled to his back as the man left the hall to return outside where his job of attending Mias' plants and horses awaited him. The closing door echoed throughout the hall and was promptly followed by the clicking of Mias' boots as he approached her. Elle gulped nervously, but instead of backing away she stood her ground. There was really not point in avoiding his wrath, whatever it may be, so she might at well face his fury sooner rather than later.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Mias said slowly, shaking his index finger in front of her in time to each 'tsk'.
This only irritated Elle, and she retaliated by slapping his hand away from her face.
"My," Mias brought the hand to his chin and supported his elbow with his other hand. "You're hell-bent on making this unpleasant for both of us, aren't you?"
"You're damn right I am!" She said with flustered cheeks and moved her hands to pull the sleeves of her dress up a bit further.
Mias looked over her attire admiringly and began circling her like a vulture, hand still stroking his chin pensively as he took in the sight. "I must say, you look ravishing in that dress: the picture of sweet, sweet innocence."
"Don't make me vomit," she said as she turned to keep her eyes on him, afraid that if she didn't, he'd do something even more stomach churning.
"I mean to do nothing of the sort. Think of my advances as an opportunity to take you to the next level of feminine beauty. I can make you so much more than you already are," he smiled confidently and moved his hands like striking serpents and seized her around the waist.
"LET GO!" Elle struggled, but as he slid their forms together her cheeks flared red in embarrassment.
"No," he smiled and cupped her hindquarters, lifting her up and forcing her legs to wrap around his waist to keep from falling. "You must be famished after all this excitement. Come, let's have a bit of lunch."
"P-PUT ME DOWN, YOU PIG!" She screamed, blushing violently and tried to get herself out of the precarious position.
Mias laughed and enjoyed carrying her to the dining hall.
Elle ceased her screaming, but continued blushing to have herself pressed so close to his hips. She wondered if he'd insist on eating with her on his lap as well. Much to her surprise, he sat her adjacent to him at the table, Mias of course being at the head and Elle occupying the first right hand seat. The fancy place settings were intimidating, but pleasing to the eye. She instantly became aware she probably didn't have the sort of manners proper for such a refined setting, not that she cared. If Mias thought she was uncouth, perhaps he'd lose interest. She certainly felt hungry enough to dig into her food like a starved animal, but she also felt the need not to make a fool of herself in front of him.
"We're ready", Mias turned to his left toward the man standing near a smaller set of doors toward the head of the dining hall.
This man must have been the chef, Elle deduced. He was a healthy, but serious looking fellow with short dark hair combed straight back on his head, deep gray eyes, pointed nose, and a sharp chin. His expression was intimidating, even more so by his lack of speech, but he did respond to Mias' instructions with a bow and passed through the doors and promptly returned with a trolley of food. He said nothing as he set out the trays and pulled back the covers to reveal the assortment of dishes he'd prepared for the two's lunch. Hot sandwiches, a bowl of soup, a pasta salad, and an assortment of fruit and cheeses served with a glass of rose wine.
"Th-Thank you," Elle told the chef as he set her appetizer of soup before hair.
He bowed deeply, showing no emotion in his face and retreated back into the kitchen with the trolley.
Elle looked at the spread before and felt just as intimidated by the excellent presentation of what many would consider to be a simple lunch.
"Is something not to your liking?" Mias asked.
"U-Um, no, that's not it," Elle said quietly, wondering why she was even answering him with a justification of her behavior. "This is all… just very overwhelming…"
"Eat," Mias insisted as he cut his sandwich into smaller bits so as not to look uncivil by eating at it whole. "You won't be able to think if you're hungry."
Strangely good advice, Elle thought to herself and cautiously picked up her soup spoon. She'd start with something light given the fact it'd been almost a day since she last had a decent meal. She thought eating would be the simplest of tasks, but she could feel Mias' eyes watching her every move and that only made her uneasy. "Do you have to stare?"
"I prefer the term 'gaze'," he said as he ate the first piece of his sandwich. "And you'd best get used to it."
Elle was afraid he's say something of that sort. Steeling her nerves, she dipped her spoon into the soup and stirred it a bit before raising a spoonful of the liquid to her mouth and quietly drinking it. The texture was smooth, the flavor subtle, and the over all taste quite satisfying. "This is… good."
"You sound surprised," Mias chuckled.
"W-Well I figured given what I'm used to eating it'd be far too rich or just plain unappealing to my pallet, but it's good. It's really good." she smiled a bit and took another spoonful.
"This is the first time I've seen you smile," Mias commented, quite enchanted with the expression.
Elle felt her entire body blush again and instantly frowned. "It's not like you're the one who made this so don't go thinking you're the one who's made me smile."
"Perhaps," he smiled, placing his elbow on the table and resting his cheek on his propped up hand. "But now that I've seen it, I'll have to lure it out again."
"I doubt even you have that sort of power," Elle commented, quietly sipping another spoonful of soup.
"I have power beyond your wildest dreams," he informed her. "Why do you doubt that?"
"Because even if you're an arrogant, egotistical bastard, you're still human," she looked him in the eyes. "And when humans try to be more than what they are, it always ends badly."
"Interesting," Mias said, taking a hold of his goblet of wine and sampling the bouquet first before taking a sip. "But let me ask you this: who ever said I was human?"
Elle didn't even flinch. She knew for certain he was human. If he were any sort of evolved being, he'd be less of an animal when it came to seducing women.
"I am, of course," Mias smirked, "but I'm not like you."
"Thank god," Elle muttered.
Mias raised an eyebrow at her and though tempted to argue her comment, stepped back figuratively and continued eating.
Elle, now a bit more relaxed, finished her soup and began to work at her sandwich and pasta salad. Mid way through both, she paused and took her goblet to have a drink. She'd experienced alcohol before, but never something so fine. The taste was sweet and the wine seemed to bubble on her tongue as it slid down her throat. Before Elle realized it, she downed the entire glass and still held the goblet like she was expecting more of the sweet nectar to magically flow from it. It took her a few moments to realize that wasn't going to happen and slowly she set the goblet back on the table.
Mias smiled slyly under the safety of his own goblet as he drank.
Hoping to sedate her sudden craving for the liquid, she plucked a few grapes from her selection of fruit and popped them into her mouth one after another but though they were sweet and juicy, they couldn't compare to the wine. It was almost strange. Elle had her fondness for certain drinks and foods, but never anything like this.
"Shall I refill your cup?" Mias asked, collecting the pitcher from his side of the table and placing it in between the two of them.
Elle's cheeks slowly turned red and she quietly nodded.
Mias refilled her goblet and watched in amusement as Elle tried to nonchalantly take another drink. He knew she was craving it, but dared not let on that he was aware of it.
"What's wrong with me?" Elle asked herself as she seized the goblet and gulped down the contents. "Stop! Get a hold of yourself! If you get drunk, he'll—!"
"More?" Mias asked, this time his voice slick like a con artist.
Elle's eyes widened and all at once she felt it: a sudden rush of heat throughout her whole body, beginning in her gut with a teasing twist. She squeezed her legs together tightly, trying to alleviate her growing arousal. How could she have been so foolish to assume this'd just be a simple meal? The bastard had slipped her an aphrodisiac knowing full well how much harder it'd be for her to resist if she fell into lust!
"Just in time for dessert," Mias purred and rose from his seat to lean over Elle's chair. He grabbed his goblet and took another sip of wine, but didn't swallow. Instead, he pressed his lips against her willing, yet unwilling mouth.
Elle couldn't help herself. The kiss tasted like the wine he had her craving and her body reacted accordingly, hungrily pushing up against his for more of the heavenly taste.
Mias obliged and parted their lips, allowing the sweet liquid to pass from mouth into hers.
She swallowed, but kept at him for more, knowing full well his tongue was still ripe with the flavor and he was all too willingly to share. She wanted to stop, she kept trying to stop, but her body wasn't listening to reason. Once again she was letting his tongue rub against hers and what was worse, in this instance, she loved it. The taste, the texture, the heat; all of it was wonderful and only making her condition worse.
"Elle," Mias exhaled in a husky voice as their lips finally parted.
"Don't you dare…!" Elle whimpered, finding that her words were the few things she still had control over.
"It's a little late for that, my dear," he whispered into her ear before lightly nibbling the lobe.
"Oh God…!" Elle's mind screamed as her body clung to his. "Please no…!"
Mias didn't waste time with useless prattle. He scooped Elle into his arms and nearly ran from the dining hall back upstairs, only this time he didn't take her back to her room. He turned down the opposite corridor to hers and hurried down the hall to a set of black twin doors. He needn't move his hands to open them as his presence alone was enough to trigger the doors to open and once inside his room, the closed behind them on their own.
"M-Mias…" Elle tried to add in a 'no' or a 'stop', but all she was able to murmur in the sweetest of voices was his name. Bad move on her part, as she knew full well that would only encourage him.
"I'll take care of it, pet," he said tenderly and lowered the both of them onto his bed. He kissed her lips once more before trailing his lips down her neck and along her exposed cleavage while his hand wandered down her side until it reached her thigh, where it pulled up the skirt of her dress high enough for his hand to touch her bare thigh and tease its way inward.
Elle gasped sharply, feeling his fingertips brush against the crotch of her panties which unfortunately were wet as a result of the drug laced wine. She couldn't begin to tell herself that it didn't feel good when it did. Setting aside the fact she hadn't consented to it, she'd never been touched so… lovingly before. It was strange. She had expected him to be rough and aggressive, but he wasn't. Knowing he had her where he wanted her gave him the opportunity to move as he liked, which infuriated Elle even more. He'd get what he wanted exactly the way he wanted… with ease.
"Don't fight it," Mias whispered, teasing his fingers along the dampened material of her panties. "Give yourself to me, and you won't regret it for a moment."
"A-Ah!" Elle reluctantly let out a sensual cry and squeezed Mias' arm in response. She knew she'd regret it. She's regret it as long as she lived if she let her body betray her mind like this. She was a woman! She was supposed to be naturally better and controlling these sorts of urges, yet Mias had turned her into some wanton creature she didn't recognize. Sure, she would admit he was handsome, and if not for a few fatal personality flaws (and under different circumstances), she might be interested… but she wasn't, and the last thing she wanted was to be some notch on a playboy's belt. Someone meaningless and easily replaced… like she'd always been… "No, not like this. Please, not like this. Not with him!"
"Elle," Mias called her name on another husky breath and tempted to venture his hand past the waistband of her panties, but stopped himself suddenly.
Elle wasn't aware she was crying again, but Mias noticed immediately. Silent tears overflowed from her eyes while sensual moans still slipped from her lips.
"…Elle?" Mias brought his hand up and held her cheek, his fingers brushing away what tears they could. He didn't understand. Even after he'd slipped her one of his finest aphrodisiac, she still found it within herself to cry and look at him with unbearable sadness. It occurred to him that bedding her in the way he desired most was not yet possible. She was right. He hadn't the power to make her smile… yet.
"…What are you doing…?" She asked as she felt him pull her dress back down and watched him turn to position himself on his side.
"Hush," he said, holding her protectively against his chest. A bit ironic considering he was the one putting her in danger.
"You asshole… I hate you…" She whimpered under his arms, her legs still squirming to deal with her arousal.
"You've made that incredibly clear…" Mias replied, placing a hand over her eyes while his palm illuminated a soft green glow. When he drew his hand away, her eyes were closed and her breathing had steadied. He'd let her sleep off the effects while he recalculated his plans.
Version II, Chapters 1-3. Originally written in 2013.