Disclaimer: CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCChapter One.
I keep forgetting that this is a horror and not a comedy, and I keep getting these unusual blocks in my writing. Not huge things that sit on the piece that says "WRITER'S BLOCK" in big bold lettering, but something that looks a little more like tempered glass. (And Keeki is, indeed, cake.) Now, be prepared, kiddies. This chapter is about the dream Piccolo had, which may be a little lewd for some of you early-sleepers depending on the next important decision that I will make right now. Let's see... Heads: a lemon rind; Tails: not. flips coin Weeeell, guess where it landed.
The whole room looked bright and sunny; warm and white. It didn't match it's owner at all. She didn't notice Piccolo's entrance until he spoke. She looked up from the mirror with a kind of delight that was so unlike her. She must have been a beautiful woman, because the dress fit her curves so well, and the make-up she wore accented her features. But he didn't really see her.
"It's been a long time," she said to him. She smiled happily and grabbed him by the hand. "Are you staying for the ceremony? Please say that you will. You should be there at the reception, too. The drinks that we're having are really out of this world."
Piccolo felt unable to answer for a few moments. Though he felt heartbroken for some reason, he was mostly estranged by the odd joyful fluctuations in her voice. Somehow, it didn't seem natural for her words to sound so nectareous. At length, he said, "The man that you're to marry is strong, then?"
She nodded. "Very. You should meet him later. His name is Kenturion- sama." The woman continued primping herself in the mirror. "I really didn't expect him to best me in combat, but, I suppose, things come in to change one's world for the better, eh?"
"If you say so..." Piccolo looked down to the floor.
When the silence fell a little too uneasily, she looked from her glass. "Hey, what's wrong? You're acting as if you don't know me anymore."
"I'm not sure if I do..."
"Eh?! Hey, I know that it's been a long time, but you knew it was me, and I knew it was you! How can you say that you don't know me anymore?"
"Y-you're acting so different," he uttered with a forceful undertone, "You used to be viperous."
"So, I grew out of my rudeness over the years.
"That's not what I mean!" He grabbed her by the wrists. "You're supposed to be malign and unyielding! Stark and serpentine! What's wrong with you?!"
"Please stop!" Her head turned, her eyelids clenched as if she was in pain. "There's nothing to be so upset about."
"I can't accept that you're whole demeanor changed. You're whole life... it looks wrong!"
"My life is about to change! I'm supposed to get married today! Please, let me go!"
She struggled in a light revolt, but he only gripped her wrists more and pushed her against the wall to prevent her from squirming so much. "Everything you just said; it doesn't make any sense coming from you! You would never allow yourself to change for any matters before. To let you go like this, when you ask with such passivity--"
"Help! Kenturion-sama!" She was now screaming, trying hysterically to flee, but her shouts were cut short when he blocked her mouth with his own. She tried to shrink away, but she found that it only lead her to crumble down to the floor against the wall. Piccolo would not let go; in fact, he followed her to the floor and only pressed more into her. She was trapped.
By the time he would lift some from her, she had stopped momentarily with her strain to escape. "That woman..." he began bitterly, "That woman I fell in love with... She has to still exist somewhere in here..."
"W-what are you doing?!" Her voice showed some annoyance along with fear as Piccolo kissed down her neck. "Please! I'm supposed to be getting married today, damnit!"
When Piccolo let go of her wrists, they only dropped to her sides, upon the span of her skirt, allowing him mobility to rip the pearly, embroidered front down to the v-shaped seam where the torso ends and the hip begins. She gasped to the sound of tearing fabric and tried to cover up her breasts in reflex, but, somehow, he was stronger, and he pushed her arms away from her bosom. "I came here for you, but it wasn't enough that someone else had gotten here first. No, he somehow had to change you into this!"
Her shoulders rolled up in a sort of disgust when he kissed the leaner parts of her chest about her collarbone. He grabbed her right breast roughly, which effect a sharp breath from her. She managed to bring a harsh backhand across his cheek, giving her enough opening to wriggle from his grasp. However, she didn't make much of an escape, as he soon caught her again, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back, her grasping hand still reaching for the doorknob.
He sat her on the bed and arrested her in his own embrace, but she was still determined to keep faced away from him; as much as he tried to turn her body towards him, she stubbornly would yank herself back. Piccolo took delight to this. Her very disposition, though still frightened and coy, was becoming more austere with anger. However, he thought, she needs to be provoked even more if she is to return. With this, he seized her left breast with great assault.
She made a short scream of pain, but more importantly, her defence weakened, and he pushed her down upon the covers. Securing her hands again, he stroked his tongue across her nipples and bit them assiduously, causing them to become purple with tumescence and bruising. She writhed under him, as if in some travail, overturning the covers and revealing the silken sheets underneath that were the shade of dried blood. "This is a recent change, isn't it?" he declared, "These sheets match you better than this puffy, pastel thing on top. Should you really wed when you must pretend so much for it?"
"Is that any of your business?" she hissed.
"I do believe that hasn't stopped me yet." He spit her skirt clear in half and removed any fabric that might obstruct his activities. She made a few more futile cries (which were more and more splenetic) before he pervaded her vulva. It wasn't until she finally mustered enough gall to punch him in the stomach and force him off that he realised what kind of gore and battery he had put her through.
The dress was completely slashed and stained. Her blood was leaking out of the bite marks and other tears on her swollen flesh, but not as horridly as a blotch on the cloth clinging to her side that grew slowly. He must have reopened some sort of wound.
Before he could react to the horror that was seeping in, she fumbled away and nearly crashed into a desk. She immediately threw off the white drape upon it, showing a black-wood table, adorned with skulls, and scrabbled through the drawers. There was such a frantic energy still going through her that Piccolo felt an obligation to comfort her somehow (even though he knew it would be pointless now) and moved towards her.
He soon found her eyes, burning with ire, and her knife, lodged into his chest.
The expression she had wansn't unlike her anymore. In fact, he had seen that very face before, but he couldn't recall when. Apparently, though the anger and need to strike back was authentic, the action she took was not what she intended, and she stepped back, her eyes wide as water began to pool in them. "I...no, that's..." She backed away, and tripped upon one of the objects that fell on the floor while she searched for a means of defence. She grabbed one of the hanging, white linens on the wall to keep herself from falling, unveiling the frescos of battle fields and dancing skeletons, as well as the great collection of large weapons hanging on fixes or propped against the wall upon the ground. It was one of the latter that she fell upon: a heavy battle ax that was a meter wide at least, and a hand thick. The edge of the blade met right with her back, giving a grizzly sound as it hit the flesh and bone. A short sound came from her mouth, and a slight jerk went through her body, then she was frozen.
For a while, the only movement was her blood flowing down the metal and her tears flowing down her cheeks. Piccolo had all but forgotten about the shiv in his torso when a knock came to the door. "Is my lass almost ready?" called a firm voice.
Piccolo went for the window and out onto the ledge beside it, trying to steady his breath as the door opened. There was a mortified swear, followed by shouting for assistance. The news of the Lady's death didn't take long to reach the entire grounds.
-snort- Sorry. You know, if someone else wrote this, I probably wouldn't read it. Or maybe I would. I donno. Anyway, writing a rape scene without it turning puerile is difficult (that's why it was so many days before I put this chapter out, and why there's more big words then usual =P). This "story" all ready had an attempted rape, and although this one isn't a real rape (it's a dream), I still have doubts if I want to do another rape scene. But, I would have to if I wrote the Mebana prequel. So... still no takers? lol
I keep forgetting that this is a horror and not a comedy, and I keep getting these unusual blocks in my writing. Not huge things that sit on the piece that says "WRITER'S BLOCK" in big bold lettering, but something that looks a little more like tempered glass. (And Keeki is, indeed, cake.) Now, be prepared, kiddies. This chapter is about the dream Piccolo had, which may be a little lewd for some of you early-sleepers depending on the next important decision that I will make right now. Let's see... Heads: a lemon rind; Tails: not. flips coin Weeeell, guess where it landed.
The whole room looked bright and sunny; warm and white. It didn't match it's owner at all. She didn't notice Piccolo's entrance until he spoke. She looked up from the mirror with a kind of delight that was so unlike her. She must have been a beautiful woman, because the dress fit her curves so well, and the make-up she wore accented her features. But he didn't really see her.
"It's been a long time," she said to him. She smiled happily and grabbed him by the hand. "Are you staying for the ceremony? Please say that you will. You should be there at the reception, too. The drinks that we're having are really out of this world."
Piccolo felt unable to answer for a few moments. Though he felt heartbroken for some reason, he was mostly estranged by the odd joyful fluctuations in her voice. Somehow, it didn't seem natural for her words to sound so nectareous. At length, he said, "The man that you're to marry is strong, then?"
She nodded. "Very. You should meet him later. His name is Kenturion- sama." The woman continued primping herself in the mirror. "I really didn't expect him to best me in combat, but, I suppose, things come in to change one's world for the better, eh?"
"If you say so..." Piccolo looked down to the floor.
When the silence fell a little too uneasily, she looked from her glass. "Hey, what's wrong? You're acting as if you don't know me anymore."
"I'm not sure if I do..."
"Eh?! Hey, I know that it's been a long time, but you knew it was me, and I knew it was you! How can you say that you don't know me anymore?"
"Y-you're acting so different," he uttered with a forceful undertone, "You used to be viperous."
"So, I grew out of my rudeness over the years.
"That's not what I mean!" He grabbed her by the wrists. "You're supposed to be malign and unyielding! Stark and serpentine! What's wrong with you?!"
"Please stop!" Her head turned, her eyelids clenched as if she was in pain. "There's nothing to be so upset about."
"I can't accept that you're whole demeanor changed. You're whole life... it looks wrong!"
"My life is about to change! I'm supposed to get married today! Please, let me go!"
She struggled in a light revolt, but he only gripped her wrists more and pushed her against the wall to prevent her from squirming so much. "Everything you just said; it doesn't make any sense coming from you! You would never allow yourself to change for any matters before. To let you go like this, when you ask with such passivity--"
"Help! Kenturion-sama!" She was now screaming, trying hysterically to flee, but her shouts were cut short when he blocked her mouth with his own. She tried to shrink away, but she found that it only lead her to crumble down to the floor against the wall. Piccolo would not let go; in fact, he followed her to the floor and only pressed more into her. She was trapped.
By the time he would lift some from her, she had stopped momentarily with her strain to escape. "That woman..." he began bitterly, "That woman I fell in love with... She has to still exist somewhere in here..."
"W-what are you doing?!" Her voice showed some annoyance along with fear as Piccolo kissed down her neck. "Please! I'm supposed to be getting married today, damnit!"
When Piccolo let go of her wrists, they only dropped to her sides, upon the span of her skirt, allowing him mobility to rip the pearly, embroidered front down to the v-shaped seam where the torso ends and the hip begins. She gasped to the sound of tearing fabric and tried to cover up her breasts in reflex, but, somehow, he was stronger, and he pushed her arms away from her bosom. "I came here for you, but it wasn't enough that someone else had gotten here first. No, he somehow had to change you into this!"
Her shoulders rolled up in a sort of disgust when he kissed the leaner parts of her chest about her collarbone. He grabbed her right breast roughly, which effect a sharp breath from her. She managed to bring a harsh backhand across his cheek, giving her enough opening to wriggle from his grasp. However, she didn't make much of an escape, as he soon caught her again, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back, her grasping hand still reaching for the doorknob.
He sat her on the bed and arrested her in his own embrace, but she was still determined to keep faced away from him; as much as he tried to turn her body towards him, she stubbornly would yank herself back. Piccolo took delight to this. Her very disposition, though still frightened and coy, was becoming more austere with anger. However, he thought, she needs to be provoked even more if she is to return. With this, he seized her left breast with great assault.
She made a short scream of pain, but more importantly, her defence weakened, and he pushed her down upon the covers. Securing her hands again, he stroked his tongue across her nipples and bit them assiduously, causing them to become purple with tumescence and bruising. She writhed under him, as if in some travail, overturning the covers and revealing the silken sheets underneath that were the shade of dried blood. "This is a recent change, isn't it?" he declared, "These sheets match you better than this puffy, pastel thing on top. Should you really wed when you must pretend so much for it?"
"Is that any of your business?" she hissed.
"I do believe that hasn't stopped me yet." He spit her skirt clear in half and removed any fabric that might obstruct his activities. She made a few more futile cries (which were more and more splenetic) before he pervaded her vulva. It wasn't until she finally mustered enough gall to punch him in the stomach and force him off that he realised what kind of gore and battery he had put her through.
The dress was completely slashed and stained. Her blood was leaking out of the bite marks and other tears on her swollen flesh, but not as horridly as a blotch on the cloth clinging to her side that grew slowly. He must have reopened some sort of wound.
Before he could react to the horror that was seeping in, she fumbled away and nearly crashed into a desk. She immediately threw off the white drape upon it, showing a black-wood table, adorned with skulls, and scrabbled through the drawers. There was such a frantic energy still going through her that Piccolo felt an obligation to comfort her somehow (even though he knew it would be pointless now) and moved towards her.
He soon found her eyes, burning with ire, and her knife, lodged into his chest.
The expression she had wansn't unlike her anymore. In fact, he had seen that very face before, but he couldn't recall when. Apparently, though the anger and need to strike back was authentic, the action she took was not what she intended, and she stepped back, her eyes wide as water began to pool in them. "I...no, that's..." She backed away, and tripped upon one of the objects that fell on the floor while she searched for a means of defence. She grabbed one of the hanging, white linens on the wall to keep herself from falling, unveiling the frescos of battle fields and dancing skeletons, as well as the great collection of large weapons hanging on fixes or propped against the wall upon the ground. It was one of the latter that she fell upon: a heavy battle ax that was a meter wide at least, and a hand thick. The edge of the blade met right with her back, giving a grizzly sound as it hit the flesh and bone. A short sound came from her mouth, and a slight jerk went through her body, then she was frozen.
For a while, the only movement was her blood flowing down the metal and her tears flowing down her cheeks. Piccolo had all but forgotten about the shiv in his torso when a knock came to the door. "Is my lass almost ready?" called a firm voice.
Piccolo went for the window and out onto the ledge beside it, trying to steady his breath as the door opened. There was a mortified swear, followed by shouting for assistance. The news of the Lady's death didn't take long to reach the entire grounds.
-snort- Sorry. You know, if someone else wrote this, I probably wouldn't read it. Or maybe I would. I donno. Anyway, writing a rape scene without it turning puerile is difficult (that's why it was so many days before I put this chapter out, and why there's more big words then usual =P). This "story" all ready had an attempted rape, and although this one isn't a real rape (it's a dream), I still have doubts if I want to do another rape scene. But, I would have to if I wrote the Mebana prequel. So... still no takers? lol
