********************back on Mohave Prime**************************
Ayaneal Utaren seethed as he paced the floor in his too large, impersonal office. "The little Bene Gesserit witch! The treachery of her mother- I should have beat it out of her!! I was too lenient on the little wench! When I find her.her miniscule grasp of pain will be nothing compared to what I inflict upon her, her and every single thing she cares about.starting with that slave of hers, That too loyal, prideful pygmy." He paused, resting his hand on an ornamental whip; the design brought through the centuries, known for the pain it inflicted, the Cat O' Nine Tails. He flashed a sadistic smile, more of a bearing of teeth than anything else, as he snatched the whip from it's resting pace on the mantle. "Hadgi!" He barked, his voice dripping with a laconic poison, "Take me to the slave!" a thought came to him then. He might be well able to use his addle-brained daughter's poor excuse for an escape to his advantage, in the Emperium, and within the lansraad itself, to be precise, House Corrino. He walked with a terrible swagger, unable to with-hold his glee as he was led to the dungeons hidden beneath the fortress. The air was dank and moldy, where as the dungeon itself was sullied beneath the mire and filth of those poor unfortunate souls who found themselves within it, the deepest, darkest gates of hell. To Ayaneal, a hardcore sadist, the atmosphere of terror, the aroma of coppery blood and vomit was as alluring as any lover. He caressed the Cat O' Nine Tails whip in his hands, rubbed it softly against his cheek, and shuddered with pleasure at the sight of the one prisoner he so desired to see. "Faruka," He whispered in inviting tones, some how twisted in serpentine cruelty. His eyes grew alight to see the once prideful Pygmy soiled in her own squalor, living in a small cell with only her terror to belay the screams that echoed through the walls. He had them specially designed for that echo. She took a few steps back, and finding herself against the wall, cowered as her tormentor cooed, "Oh Faruka, there's no need to be afraid." He let the ends of the whip fall softly onto the stone floor, the steel-studded tips clicking with agonizing portent as the door creaked open. "On second thought. Be afraid." He told her in all seriousness, the mock- lover gone. All that remained was a monster. "Scream for me." Ayaneal Utaren commanded. Faruka screamed. **************************************************************
Ayaneal Utaren seethed as he paced the floor in his too large, impersonal office. "The little Bene Gesserit witch! The treachery of her mother- I should have beat it out of her!! I was too lenient on the little wench! When I find her.her miniscule grasp of pain will be nothing compared to what I inflict upon her, her and every single thing she cares about.starting with that slave of hers, That too loyal, prideful pygmy." He paused, resting his hand on an ornamental whip; the design brought through the centuries, known for the pain it inflicted, the Cat O' Nine Tails. He flashed a sadistic smile, more of a bearing of teeth than anything else, as he snatched the whip from it's resting pace on the mantle. "Hadgi!" He barked, his voice dripping with a laconic poison, "Take me to the slave!" a thought came to him then. He might be well able to use his addle-brained daughter's poor excuse for an escape to his advantage, in the Emperium, and within the lansraad itself, to be precise, House Corrino. He walked with a terrible swagger, unable to with-hold his glee as he was led to the dungeons hidden beneath the fortress. The air was dank and moldy, where as the dungeon itself was sullied beneath the mire and filth of those poor unfortunate souls who found themselves within it, the deepest, darkest gates of hell. To Ayaneal, a hardcore sadist, the atmosphere of terror, the aroma of coppery blood and vomit was as alluring as any lover. He caressed the Cat O' Nine Tails whip in his hands, rubbed it softly against his cheek, and shuddered with pleasure at the sight of the one prisoner he so desired to see. "Faruka," He whispered in inviting tones, some how twisted in serpentine cruelty. His eyes grew alight to see the once prideful Pygmy soiled in her own squalor, living in a small cell with only her terror to belay the screams that echoed through the walls. He had them specially designed for that echo. She took a few steps back, and finding herself against the wall, cowered as her tormentor cooed, "Oh Faruka, there's no need to be afraid." He let the ends of the whip fall softly onto the stone floor, the steel-studded tips clicking with agonizing portent as the door creaked open. "On second thought. Be afraid." He told her in all seriousness, the mock- lover gone. All that remained was a monster. "Scream for me." Ayaneal Utaren commanded. Faruka screamed. **************************************************************