A.N. Hey everybody, thanks for the fabo reviews! (Did I just say, fabo?
::shutters:: ) Well I just want you all to know that your not sicko's for
reading this. R rated stories of this nature are a certain kind of genra
that some people like to read, and there is nothing wrong with that. And
please, I'm the perveted freak writing this. Anyway, there's some slash up
ahead with more graphic forplay then I've had. Just a warning and 35
reviews for the next chapter, happy reading.
Jonathan took George the next week. He had been near sleep, exhaustion and disbelief overtaken him while the king of two worlds untied the ropes that hung him and lied him on the bed. He almost artfully peeled off his shirt, revealing the ex-theives well built abbess. Jonathan sat on the side of the bed and ran a finger lightly over his chest, breathing him in.
"What happened to Alanna." George whispered out the words through cracked lips and throat. The warrior maiden had disappeared from the room two days ago, leaving him nearly mad.
Jonathan took his finger up to the man's cracked dry lips. "I gave her to my. friends" He smiled at George's worried eyes. "Don't worry, they won't kill her. She'll come back."
The reassurance, even from the enemy, allowed George to relax his shoulders, the thought that he might even be able to enjoy this flashed through his mind, but he quickly banished it. This man was not Jonathan, was not the man he had once knew. He would not let himself fall into whatever game he was playing, because whatever it was, had already destroyed the Jonathan he had known.
The kings hands came to his pants and slowly took them off until all that was left was his bare skin on pale sheets. A finger trailed a scare that ran from his shoulder to his lower waist, where he stopped before the groin.
"Where did you get this?" Jonathan was referring to healed cut that split his skin.
"Fuck you." George's voice was stronger then he expected and he didn't like it.
"Your choice." The sapphire eyed man forced George onto his stomach and chained him to the bed, new chains that wrapped around the bed post and bit into his skin. Arms tied at the top and legs spread out at the bottom. He could feel naked skin on his, hands pressing against his shoulders and heavy breathing on his neck.
"You have such a pretty body." The king repositioned himself so he could enter his body, poised to start.
"Tell me, where are the Arian papers?" His voice had gone business like, stern and emotionless. George's mind froze, his whole body went stiff, fear threading it's self around every nerve. The Arian papers, the ones that he had found in the library of the Dancing Dove. The ones that held the secretes to taking the gift from others.
"I don't know what your talking about." Words were muffled in the sheets that he was pressed against. The king took his hand to the chained mans neck and turned it, painfully, so he could gaze into his hazel eyes.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about, either tell me where they are I take you, here and now."
George stayed silent, feeling the kings warm skin nearly on his, the tension that hung in the air, smothering him. The moments stretched into hours that where then torn into seconds, Jonathan entered George and pain ran through him as he struggled against the chains, screaming until his voice was nothing more then a whisper, and still the sapphire eyed man did not stop.
***
Alanna knew she had failed, failed her husband, her country, her king. The blows rained on her, but she didn't feel them, barely flinched as a boot connected with her lip, sending blood down her chin. If they didn't kill her, Jonathan would, or maybe even George would, if she ever saw him again. And even if she did live to die by another event, George would never take her back, she had betrayed him.
The men who loomed over her battered body were thieves she had arrested years ago, she didn't remember them, but they could vividly recall her. A rope bound her by the throat to a wall, in an attic, or cellar, or maybe even the palace itself, but she didn't knew where she was, let alone if she was still in Chorus. Her ankles were tied together and wrists tied in front of her chest. She was sprawled on the ground, though the constant battering sent her in different directions at will. Jonathan had let her dress before giving her to them, but the shirt had been already torn to pieces, and pants did nothing to protect her. One of the men drew a knife from his pocket, and ran it up Alanna's bare arm.
"Having fun yet bitch?" The voice was husky and held hints of ale. He brought the knife to her cheek and drew a lazy line down, emitting blood that trailed downward. Alanna struggled against the bounds again, he began on the other cheek, this time coming down harder.
Then he held it out in front of her, inches from her mouth. "Suck it."
Her blood still clung to the silver edges. She shook her head and the blade was thrust into her right shoulder, causing her to cry out in pain. "I said suck it you slut!"
Tentatively she opened her mouth and felt the knife slide in, cutting her tongue. She had to tense her mouth so that it wasn't sliced.
"You know." He whispered in her ear, letting the blade side a little further in. "I've always wandered if a bitch would survive if I was to shove this up her ass." Then he pulled it out, quickly, slicing the inside of her lip so that her mouth flowed in copper blood.
There was a knocking on the door, one Alanna hadn't seen, hadn't known was there. Both men tensed.
"Open up or I'll have to break it down myself." The Lioness nearly cried out. The voice was Raoul's.
Jonathan took George the next week. He had been near sleep, exhaustion and disbelief overtaken him while the king of two worlds untied the ropes that hung him and lied him on the bed. He almost artfully peeled off his shirt, revealing the ex-theives well built abbess. Jonathan sat on the side of the bed and ran a finger lightly over his chest, breathing him in.
"What happened to Alanna." George whispered out the words through cracked lips and throat. The warrior maiden had disappeared from the room two days ago, leaving him nearly mad.
Jonathan took his finger up to the man's cracked dry lips. "I gave her to my. friends" He smiled at George's worried eyes. "Don't worry, they won't kill her. She'll come back."
The reassurance, even from the enemy, allowed George to relax his shoulders, the thought that he might even be able to enjoy this flashed through his mind, but he quickly banished it. This man was not Jonathan, was not the man he had once knew. He would not let himself fall into whatever game he was playing, because whatever it was, had already destroyed the Jonathan he had known.
The kings hands came to his pants and slowly took them off until all that was left was his bare skin on pale sheets. A finger trailed a scare that ran from his shoulder to his lower waist, where he stopped before the groin.
"Where did you get this?" Jonathan was referring to healed cut that split his skin.
"Fuck you." George's voice was stronger then he expected and he didn't like it.
"Your choice." The sapphire eyed man forced George onto his stomach and chained him to the bed, new chains that wrapped around the bed post and bit into his skin. Arms tied at the top and legs spread out at the bottom. He could feel naked skin on his, hands pressing against his shoulders and heavy breathing on his neck.
"You have such a pretty body." The king repositioned himself so he could enter his body, poised to start.
"Tell me, where are the Arian papers?" His voice had gone business like, stern and emotionless. George's mind froze, his whole body went stiff, fear threading it's self around every nerve. The Arian papers, the ones that he had found in the library of the Dancing Dove. The ones that held the secretes to taking the gift from others.
"I don't know what your talking about." Words were muffled in the sheets that he was pressed against. The king took his hand to the chained mans neck and turned it, painfully, so he could gaze into his hazel eyes.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about, either tell me where they are I take you, here and now."
George stayed silent, feeling the kings warm skin nearly on his, the tension that hung in the air, smothering him. The moments stretched into hours that where then torn into seconds, Jonathan entered George and pain ran through him as he struggled against the chains, screaming until his voice was nothing more then a whisper, and still the sapphire eyed man did not stop.
***
Alanna knew she had failed, failed her husband, her country, her king. The blows rained on her, but she didn't feel them, barely flinched as a boot connected with her lip, sending blood down her chin. If they didn't kill her, Jonathan would, or maybe even George would, if she ever saw him again. And even if she did live to die by another event, George would never take her back, she had betrayed him.
The men who loomed over her battered body were thieves she had arrested years ago, she didn't remember them, but they could vividly recall her. A rope bound her by the throat to a wall, in an attic, or cellar, or maybe even the palace itself, but she didn't knew where she was, let alone if she was still in Chorus. Her ankles were tied together and wrists tied in front of her chest. She was sprawled on the ground, though the constant battering sent her in different directions at will. Jonathan had let her dress before giving her to them, but the shirt had been already torn to pieces, and pants did nothing to protect her. One of the men drew a knife from his pocket, and ran it up Alanna's bare arm.
"Having fun yet bitch?" The voice was husky and held hints of ale. He brought the knife to her cheek and drew a lazy line down, emitting blood that trailed downward. Alanna struggled against the bounds again, he began on the other cheek, this time coming down harder.
Then he held it out in front of her, inches from her mouth. "Suck it."
Her blood still clung to the silver edges. She shook her head and the blade was thrust into her right shoulder, causing her to cry out in pain. "I said suck it you slut!"
Tentatively she opened her mouth and felt the knife slide in, cutting her tongue. She had to tense her mouth so that it wasn't sliced.
"You know." He whispered in her ear, letting the blade side a little further in. "I've always wandered if a bitch would survive if I was to shove this up her ass." Then he pulled it out, quickly, slicing the inside of her lip so that her mouth flowed in copper blood.
There was a knocking on the door, one Alanna hadn't seen, hadn't known was there. Both men tensed.
"Open up or I'll have to break it down myself." The Lioness nearly cried out. The voice was Raoul's.