There is something about the thunder, that loud violent crash of sound, that always sends shivers down Lenneth's spine. The noise is enough to startle her awake, Lenneth jolting upright with a gasp. There is fear in that exaggerated sound, Lenneth fighting to get free of the bed sheets that tangle around her legs. Her heart begins to race, lurching almost painfully in response to the next sounding of the storm.

How she hates times like this. When the storm is brewing in the sky, electricity crackling, the very air feeling heavy with it. She cannot see the storm, but she can feel it. Feel it down to the bones of her body, Lenneth crossing her arms over her chest. Her fingers dig into her arms, Lenneth gritting her teeth to stifle the shriek that wants to come out. She is almost not successful, hearing the thunder go off like a rapid series of explosions.

Fear comes with that sound. Phantom pains start their protest in her body, Lenneth's head hurting. She's long since recovered from the concussion of that first night, but the storm is enough to trigger the remembrance of that pain. That's not all it stirs, Lenneth shifting uneasily in bed. Feeling her stomach clench in upset, her body breaking out into a fine sweat as memories stir.

It is as unwelcome as it is unstoppable, the memories swarming. They seek to overwhelm her, to transport Lenneth back to that fateful night. The storm helps in that endeavor, the quick succession of thunder such a stark echo of that first night in the tower. The night everything had changed, one world ending. Hers. Lenneth knows her whole life had been ruined in an instant, Lenneth brought down from her lofty pedestal only to be cast into an unending torment.

It is cold comfort that her bed is empty. Lezard's presence lingers, his rich, masculine scent on the sheets. It is far too easy to conjure his image to mind, for Lenneth to imagine him laying besides her. Eyes glittering in that predatory way, a mocking smile lingering on his lips. Or worse yet, to see that look as he hovers above her, Lezard pressed between her legs, forcing pleasure into her.

A shudder goes through her, but it can't compare to the ones that will be roused by the memories she's having. The flashbacks that transport Lenneth back to a time months ago. A night much like this one, where she had been dazed and distraught.

The concussion hadn't allowed her to focus properly, Lenneth disoriented. The room seemed to be spinning, the dizzy sensation made all the worse by her movements. She wasn't walking of her own accord. Lenneth had been carried. Cradled against Lezard's chest, her body had been draped over his arms. He had been in high spirits, a bounce to his step as he carried her through the dark corridors of the tower he called home.

The storm could be seen through the windows they passed, jagged bolts of lightning lighting up the night's sky. The rain had already started, a heavy downpour that seemed intent on drowning anything caught out in the storm. The wind howled, a fierce sound that sent it's gusty breeze in through cracks in the walls. It was a bad storm, the kind that promised death and disaster to those under it.

Certainly the storm brought ruin to Lenneth's door, her body not her own. Pain accompanied her thoughts, her sluggish mind trying to make sense of what was happening. She had felt sick to her stomach, the very act of existing bringing pain. It was a foreign way of being to Lenneth, the Goddess not used to experiencing such things. It made her slow to react, Lenneth almost debilitated from the head injury she had sustained.

Almost but not quite, Lenneth lashing out weakly. Struggling to push free of the arms locked around her, Lenneth kicking out her legs. Thrashing about in an attempt to get away. For all her struggles, Lezard did not drop her. He continued on his merry way, walking past runes that were painted into the very walls of the tower. They glowed, with a glimmering sheen that could be accounted to the power that had been enchanted into the paint. The blood that had been spilled, collected with this dark purpose in mind. Elves' blood. Powerful and pure, the blood helped to fuel the spells. Helped to hide this place and the crimes committed here.

Even in her weakened state, Lenneth could feel the power of those runes. Feel them thrumming through her body. It only added to her sickness, Lenneth stifled and suffocating. Choking on the very power that helped to hide her.

The odds had been against her. Too many things conspired to keep her weakened, stripped of her fighting spirit. Even as she had fought to get free of Lezard's hold, Lenneth had recognized the futility of her actions. But she had been unable to stop. It simply wasn't in her nature to give in. She'd bow to no man so easily. Especially this wretched human who had conspired against her.

Her struggles didn't allow Lezard to adjust his grip long enough for him to be able to open the door to the room that would become her prison. Instead he had to kick it open, all the while struggling to keep her still. The dizzy spin of her vision didn't stop Lenneth from spying the bed, or the care that had been taken in preparing it and the room. But she was uncaring of the finery, of the things set out to please her.

The bed itself had a canopy. It's gauzy curtains hung down to the floor, Lenneth nearly becoming tangled up in them. Her continued struggles had Lezard dropping her undignified on the bed, pain jolting through her at the sudden impact of her body on the soft mattress. The storm continued to rage, not even the closed window could drown out it's sound. The rain seemed to angrily assault the window's glass, Lenneth slowly rolling onto her hands and knees. The nausea rolled with her, intensifying to such a degree she nearly gagged.

Lenneth could barely move, trying to crawl free of the bed. Lezard's hands easily caught her about the waist, hauling her back to the center. Back towards him, the man turning her over and onto her back. She'd slap his straddling form, fists rebounding off his chest again and again. He'd endure the attacks with an excited laugh, Lezard batting aside Lenneth's hands. His piercing eyes would stare down at her, drinking in her naked form. At the glare she gave him, a hooded look would take over his expression, eyes glinting with some dark, unfathomable desire.

She'd continue to hit him, her alarm increasing as Lezard began to undo the buttons of his shirt, loosening his collar and cuffs. No good could come of his undressing, Lenneth snarling. So feeble was her blows, he shrugged them off, his smile never wavering.

Clothing loosened, Lezard bent over her. Hands sunk into her hair, the cool silk of it cascading through his fingers. Her hands turned, no longer hitting so much as trying to shove him away. But her strength wasn't what it had once been, Lenneth finding Lezard an immovable object. He pressed into her hands, his breath coming faster in an excited hiss. Rubbing thick hanks of her hair over his cheek, the man purring.

When he began to speak to her, it was about how long he had waited. How long he had dreamt of this moment. Of the lonely months and years spent gathering the things needed, to accomplish his greatest desire. Lenneth was not impressed, but then she thought Lezard hadn't expected her to be.

His tone was almost gloating, Lezard smirking at her. He was so damn proud of his accomplishment this night. So damn satisfied with what he had done. He let her hair fall away from his hands, Lezard pressing his lips to the side of her temple. Kissing her there, his lip not yet healed from her earlier savagery. She shoved harder at him, straining with the attempts to move him. He might as well have ignored her, Lezard remaining in place, lips kissing down the side of her face.

The kisses left her cold, angry. Her teeth flashed with her snarl, Lenneth wanting to bite him. But Lezard didn't try for her mouth, smart enough not to risk another bite. Hs fingers tangled in her hair, gripping her almost painfully as he held her head still for his lip's caress. An inordinate amount of time was spent, Lezard pressing soft kisses all over her face. Lenneth trembled, rage not suppressed. Hissing, screaming at him to stop. To leave her be. Cries that were ignored, Lezard doing a long lick from her jaw to her ear.

She was repulsed by him. By all he had done, and continued to do. Her cry of revulsion wasn't held back, Lenneth's skin seeming to crawl in reaction to the licks of his tongue. His very nearness nauseated her, the room continuing it's spin. Her hands for all their efforts, were ineffectual against him, her legs pinned down under the weight of his body. She shook constantly, both from her struggles and her upset. She hadn't yet known to fear him, knowing only anger and hate. Just as she hadn't yet discovered the futility of fighting Lezard. Or that he would always get his way when it came to the pursuit of her body.

It was a pursuit he relished, a pursuit he lived for. It was an ambition he would see to it's end, but neither would he rush through it. It had been obvious how Lezard wanted to savor this moment, this victory over her. It translated into lingering touches, Lezard spending an obscene amount of time just kissing and touching her. Nibbling along the line of her jaw, his teeth a gentle scrape of sensation on her skin.

Her pale skin had been unmarked. No blemish or bruise to ruin it's flawless state. Lezard would use it as his canvas, lips pressed to her throat, sucking furiously on her tender flesh. Marking her simply for the joy of putting his claim on her, knowing no one else would ever see. A whole ring of similar marks would be kissed into her skin, Lezard choosing spots at random. Spots that grew increasingly intimate, Lezard working one between and on her breasts, and even onto the inside of her thigh.

As his breath huffed over her sex, Lenneth hadn't been wet for him. No desire had bloomed within her, Lenneth's body not yet conditioned to betray her. It would take work on Lezard's part, real effort exerted to arouse her. For all the contradictions of the idea, Lezard hadn't wanted to hurt her. He'd spend the time needed to arouse her, his hands moving, caressing insistently over her curves. She'd try to twist away, squirming about in response to his hands' squeezing fondle on her breasts. Or at the way he cupped her bottom, Lezard lifting her, sliding his hands down the backs of her legs.

He'd even kiss down her legs, the back of her knees proving especially sensitive to his lip's touch. It was strange, for all the evil intent in his actions, his touches were almost reverent. He seemed to relish the worship of her flesh, leaving very little untouched and unkissed. It would go on for hours, Lezard incredibly patient with her. With her body's slow to respond arousal. He'd kiss away some of her resistance, Lenneth turning more horrified to find liquid warmth beginning it's trickle out of her. He'd encourage that trickle into a full out flow, Lezard pressing his lips to the very center of her body. Licking and probing with his tongue, lips pursing around her clit, sucking at that tiny morsel of flesh.

Back then she hadn't yet been able to climax from the treatment received at Lezard's hands. It would take time, days, perhaps weeks of being conditioned. But slowly, unavoidably, her body began to become greedy. To respond to his attentions, to give itself over to what he did to her. But that first night? Lenneth had felt little of that unwanted pleasure, her body alive and tingling. It was slight, and unpleasant, Lenneth not wanting to enjoy anything Lezard offered her.

At least he would decide she was wet enough. At the unlacing of his trousers, Lenneth would resume striking him. Desperate to stop Lezard from going any further. Her wrists would be caught, gathered into his hand's grip. They would be pinned to the mattress, arms stretched out so that her hands were held in place over her head. Lezard had been positioned between Lenneth's legs, giving her no chance to close herself off to him.

She'd actually start to scream when Lezard penetrated her. The fat head of his cock almost hurt, her body practically untried. No virgin was she, but this new body hadn't had much experience when it came to sex. It would need some stretching to accommodate all of Lezard, the mage pushing insistently into her. The burn of her insides made Lenneth hiss, eyes flashing with anger. Lezard's smile was unapologetic, the mage suddenly thrusting harder. Filling her to the hilt, Lezard lingering inside her with a savoring hiss.

He had enjoyed being inside her. Of that there was no doubt. His eyes had actually rolled up, his body trembling from the effort to hold still. For all the seconds he didn't move, he followed those up with fierce, almost violent thrusts. His body began a vigorous pace inside her, Lezard moving so fast it was almost inhuman. Lenneth screamed and cried out, struggling with her hands trying to somehow get away. Trying to buck him off her body, Lezard thrusting into her so hard her breasts bounced.

Sweat had pearled on both their bodies, Lezard bending to lick the beads off Lenneth's chest. His hips had continued to move, the man merciless as he strove for pleasure. Hers and his, Lezard seeming determined to bring her down with him. But it was not to be. No matter how hard he tried, Lezard couldn't make Lenneth climax with him that first time.

But in the days that would follow? Her shame would be tripled, Lezard working to get her used to him. To the things he did to her, her body slowly learning. Slowly becoming accustomed to the mixture of revulsion and pleasure she felt. Until Lenneth could no longer fight it, the orgasm being ripped out of her, her voice a shrill scream. How satisfied Lezard had been, how twistedly pleased. It had just been another victory over her, as though her reluctant enjoyment was bringing them closer together. Sometimes Lenneth feared that was true, though no love blossomed in her heart for him. He could give her all the pleasure in the world, and she would still hate him. Still despise him for all the things he had done.

It is tiring to hate so strongly. Just as it is to fear so constantly. Lenneth often wonders what she fears the most. That this torment will continue on without end, or if her mind will somehow betray her as her body did. Can her mind too be conditioned to change to Lezard's whims? Lenneth doesn't know, and that leaves her frightened all the more...

Well...hmm...I like this...but...okay I feel like the voice is different for 20 and some of 21. I tried a different start to 21 and showed it to my friend Huntress. She agreed this version felt more like Dark Drabble. That the other drafting, it started as a Dark Drabble but then lost it's feel somewhere along the way. Unfortunately I worry this did the same thing. Started with the right DD feel, but then started drifting in and out. I also kinda kept drifting in and out of past and present tense a little...I think. It was supposed to be Lenneth thinking but also flashing back to that first night...first rape. So maybe the drifting can be excused. Who knows...

Maybe I need a break...or maybe I can recapture the feel for 22. We'll see...I'm hungry now...XD

To Be Continued...

Michelle

Phoenix Blade, I know, I know...I get too hard on myself at times...I guess I had too high expectations for that and this chapter...I still do...still feel like I failed to meet them. But thank you for the encouragement. It's highly appreciated! *hugs*