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Deianira

Killer Queen (M: S & V)

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Posted (edited)

May, 75CE

To some, Titus Aspanius Lupus might seem like an overly cruel master. To Deianira, he was your run-of-the-mill brothel owner, no different than the owner of the brothel she'd been born in or the one she recently vacated. When the man had picked her up at the slave market in Rome, Deia had been at first curious to know what kind of man he was, but the establishment he ran was all she needed to know. Some of the other girls who'd been there longer wished they could work at the Domus Venus instead, because they were all sold so cheaply and Titus allowed men to do terrible things to them, as long as they paid. Deia understood where she was, but what could she do about it? All she could do was try and get by, keep her head down like at her old brothel, and perhaps someday be freed or escape somehow. 

She had only been here a few weeks and was settling in, more or less. She had seen more customers than she thought was usual, but perhaps that was because she was new and men liked a new toy to play with. Tonight, she was moving around the brothel wearing a skimpy tunica that left little to the imagination. She had not been scooped up yet, so she was helping serve wine to men who were still deciding. She stopped before one such man with her amphora, pouring the wine carefully, lest any spill. "Welcome to the Elysium," she said in accented Latin, plastering a fake smile on her face. "I hope you can find what you are looking for."

@Atrice

Edited by Echo
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Titus did not seem like a very cruel master, if you asked Marcus. In fact Titus was one of the few in Rome who understood how to handle both slaves and patrons at his brothel. Titus knew people and he knew what to do to gain some coin from them. Just like Marcus knew this, although his business was very different. Still, there were similarities and they got along well. They had some similar views and he enjoyed discussing methods concerning slaves with Titus. It was nice and refreshing to find someone so like-minded here in Rome.

 And they worked together, in their own way. They had benefits with each other. Titus got a discount or even sometimes a free shave and in return, Marcus had access to the whores he preferred the most… the new ones, the scared ones, the ones that he wanted to break and hurt while doing so. He hoped there was something interesting tonight as he walked towards the brothel and found himself a seat to decide whom to bed tonight. A dark-haired girl approached him and he didn’t think he had seen her before. She had an amphora with wine and poured some for him, welcoming him and hoping he would find what he was looking for. Her smile was so fake it wasn’t even amusing.

 “We’ll see. I haven’t seen you here before, you must be new.” Marcus said, looking her over. Her tunica did not leave much to the imagination and he downed a bit of the wine she just poured for him. He had a tiny blade hidden in his purse tonight and he knew Titus wouldn’t mind if he scarred the girls. It was easy to imagine the crimson blood against her pale skin and with her dark hair and ruby lips… it would be a divine sight… but a story or to might be good first… “What have they done to you here, so far? How rough have they been?” How badly had she been hurt, so far?

@Echo

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Deia tried not to make eye contact too much with this one. She wasn't sure, but she had heard whispers from the other workers about a man who came here and did evil, twisted things to the most vulnerable girls in the brothel. Could it be this man? Something in his eyes was chilling and she did not like it. His voice was not much better, commenting that he had not seen her before and that she must be new. "Yes, dominus. I only arrived a week or two ago." She finished pouring the wine and stood back, as it seemed he wanted to continue talking to her. 

She paled immediately at his next words, her smile faltering. "Uhm..." she said quietly, looking around for help. But she was in this alone, none of the others were coming near him now that she was with him. "Well... my recent customers weren't really the type to like it rough, so..." It was true, for the most part. She had had a few that wanted to brutalize her, but she wasn't about to divulge every detail of every customer she'd had so far to this man. "Do... you like it rough, then, dominus?" She tried to infuse confidence into her voice but it really didn't come across very effectively. 

@Atrice

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She avoided his gaze, which was good – although it didn’t seem like she was doing it to be submissive, but more because she really didn’t want to look at him. Maybe he should make her look. And then he could scold her for doing it. She answered his question though, saying she’d just arrived a not many weeks ago and he nodded quietly and sipped the wine she gave him. Then he wondered just how rough her patrons had been so far.

 The girl seemed paler then, gazing around her as if looking for some kind of escape, but no one came to her aid. They knew better than to bother Marcus when he was busy. This one didn’t know anything though. And that made her interesting. She said her recent costumers had not liked it rough and almost stumbled over her words, wondering if he liked it.

 “I suppose I do. But you’ll find out.” Marcus said, but didn’t get up just yet, although he had now decided he would have her. She seemed so nervous though and he recalled a conversation he had with Titus once, about playing mind-games. He decided to try it and see how she would react, “Remove that tunica.”

@Echo

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Deia took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She still wasn't completely over the death of her baby and the trauma of her last brothel, and Titus being her owner wasn't really helping her nerves become any better. Nor was this man, with his cold eyes. He didn't really answer her question, which, she supposed, was his right, but instead told her that she would find out. It would seem she had been chosen again. Normally, she felt a numbness come over her at that realization, which allowed her to detach herself from the situation and therefore survive it, but this time she just felt her blood run cold. 

Now it seemed he wanted to play games with her, telling her to remove her tunica. Her immediate reaction was to want to argue, tell him to go fuck himself, and pour the amphora of wine all over him. But she couldn't. She could be killed if she acted out like that, and she knew it. Wordlessly, she pulled at the clasps holding the shoulders of her tunica together and let the fabric pool at her feet, trying very hard to forget that there were other people in the room but failing miserably. 

@Atrice

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Why was she so nervous? She had been here a few weeks, so she knew what it was like to be a whore and she must have tried a bit of this and that. Was she really so fresh and scared? When she had probably barely had anyone to actually scare her yet. Marcus would make her shiver. He would make her do anything for him – or she would let him do anything to her, really. It’s not like she could argue. The bouncers here knew him, they would not react to her whimpers or even her screams. And Titus knew he’d not damage her beyond repair.

 But first a bit of mind-games. Not really because it amused him, but because it interested him to see her reaction. It might also tell him how interesting she’d be once he took her body. First she seemed to hesitate at his order, but finally she pulled the clasps of the tunica and it fell down around her feet. She stood naked before him and everyone else in the room. He tilted his head, looking her over.

 Then he leaned forwards and touched her with just one finger. Ran it over her body, from her breasts and chest and down over her stomach, imagining that it was his knife, cutting her pale skin. He didn’t see any bad bruises or scars on her body though. She was quite fair-skinned… and she just stood there. His finger stopped just above her crotch and he pulled it back, looking up at her, “You wish I’d pick someone else, don’t you? That I wouldn’t touch you. Tell me the truth.”

@Echo

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Deia cast her eyes down demurely as she disrobed, biting her lip in an effort to ground herself. She knew she must look like a fool to him and to the other girls. A whore who had worked for years and was still nervous? They must think she was an idiot. She hadn't noticed the pitying glances of the other girls, hadn't heard their whispers over the past few weeks of "poor thing." She knew she looked foolish, but found she could barely control her nerves right now. The man extended his hand, touching her body with one finger. That wasn't so unusual, but she still didn't love that he was touching her at all. 

Finally, after an agonizing moment with his finger on her body, he pulled it away and asked her to tell the truth, whether she didn't want him to choose her or touch her. What was her move here? Lie? That would surely be transparent, she was obviously nervous. Or tell the truth, and risk Titus's ire? She decided she'd rather lie. "Of course not, dominus. I am happy to serve whoever wants my services."

@Atrice

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Marcus knew that Titus would not mind him breaking in one of the newer girls. He had done it before and he'd do it again. Tonight was no different. And seeing this girl here strip in front of him, in front of everybody, biting her lip, seeming so nervous about it... it was so interesting and it made him want to see what else he could make her do. Then he touched her and she stood still as a brick, until he asked her to tell the truth about her thoughts concerning him. A few moments later, she said she was happy to serve anyone and she didn't wish he'd pick someone else. Marcus rolled his eyes. Then he reached out and pulled her into his lap to sit down, with her backside leaning against his front - and her front exposed to everyone and he held a hand on her chest, forcing her to lie back against him, so that he could speak to her ear.

"I told you to be honest, didn't I?" He hissed against her ear, "I expected truth, not lies. From now on, you do as I tell you." He added then with a low voice, "So tell me again, are you really happy to serve me?" 

@Echo

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Immediately, she could see that he had not bought it and she kicked herself. She should have gone with the truth in the first place. Why was this situation so confusing and difficult for her? What was it about this particular man? She had had cruel customers before, those that wanted to hurt her for fun because it was what got them off. But this was somehow different and the difference frightened her. 

She gave a light gasp of surprise as he pulled her down on top of him, exposing her to everyone with a hand on her chest. She closed her eyes, knowing she could ignore the others if she couldn't see them. She heard him hiss in her ear and she knew that she had no fight left in her, at least not in words. "Yes, dominus," she said quietly, "anything you say." Then he asked her the same question as before and she squeezed her eyes even more. "N-no, dominus. I am not." She hoped he would release her. 

@Atrice

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She should kick herself. And she should learn to tell the truth when told to do so. Marcus didn't come here for lies and pretense. If he wanted that, he could go to the Domus Venus - but that was too expensive and the patrons there too nice. And the bouncers wouldn't let him do what he wanted to do. Elysium here was much better and more to his liking. This new girl though, she had a thing or two to learn and Marcus was already teaching her. She seemed surprised that he pulled her down onto him, gasping and closing her eyes while she lay there, exposed.

She said the right words then and finally told the truth. She was not happy to serve him.

"I didn't think so. Luckily for you, I'm not looking for someone who would be happy to serve me. I want you to be real. I hate it when people are fake. So don't be." Marcus said to her ear and finally let go of her and reached for the wine she poured him and drank the rest, before he looked at her again... "You will do that for me. You will not be fake." 

@Echo

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Deia let out a quiet breath as he released her, though he knew that it was only momentary because soon they would be alone together. She didn't know what was worse: witnesses or no witnesses. As he let go of her, she stood up, brushing her hair out of her face and casting her eyes downward again. He was commanding her not to be fake and she nodded quickly. "Yes, dominus. I won't be fake." She wasn't sure she had the acting capability to pretend to be happy with this man, anyway. 

She glanced at her discarded tunic, and then back at him as he downed the rest of the wine she'd given him. "More wine, sir? Or... are you ready to go to a private room?" Gods, she hoped not. But it seemed like the time would be coming soon. In preparation, she gathered up the tunica and held it, though she knew better than to try and hide her nakedness. Somehow, she knew he wouldn't like that. 

@Atrice

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Marcus actually kind of did want witnesses to what he did - but he knew it couldn't be so, because people would talk and he knew that it was not common that you had a desire to cut blades into others and see them bleed. It was not common that such a thing left you feeling a deep fascination and satisfaction inside. So he had to do it alone and tonight, he would do it to this girl. He didn't even know her name. It didn't matter. She was just a slave, just a whore. So pretty and smooth and pale. He would make her skin blush in his own way. She was a blank wall to write upon. He smiled by the thought while she promised to not be fake with him and when he had downed the wine, she wondered if he wanted to go to a private room.

"Let's go." Marcus said and stood, wondering when she would begin attempts to guess what he wanted, so she wouldn't have to ask. Slaves should be able to guess it. He had heard about a male slave at the Venus, who was said to be capable of that, but he doubted he'd get to hurt them like he would get to hurt the whores here. So he would just stay. He waited for the girl to lead him to a room of their own and his eyes were shining brightly with anticipation.

@Echo

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Deia dipped her head as he said "let's go," half-heartedly waving a hand in the direction she wanted to go. She was silent on the walk there, barely noticing her surroundings as she thought about what he might want. If only she had listened more carefully to the other girls who had warned her about this man, listened to their stories as they detailed what exactly it was that he enjoyed. Then she could prepare herself for what was to come. But it couldn't be anything worse than she'd ever gone through, right? 

Soon, they reached a room with an open door, signifying its vacancy, and Deia pushed the door closed behind them, steadying herself before turning to face the man again. "So, dominus. What can I interest you in?" She was often good at knowing what a man liked when he came to her, but this man was another matter. Her mind couldn't travel the dark paths that wound around his thoughts. What twisted activities did he want to engage in with her? She couldn't bring herself to guess aloud. 

@Atrice

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She didn't speak much, which was for the best. Marcus didn't want his slaves to speak unless spoken to, so she had been trained well in that regard. And she undressed when he asked her to. In fact, she had done almost everything he asked her to, except telling him the truth of her opinion of him. But she had learned fast and now she quietly led the way to a room. She held her simple tunica and Marcus followed her, looking at her backside. How easy it would be to pick his knife from the purse, catch her from behind and slit her throat, he thought while they walked. With a hand on her one breast, he would hold her close and with his free hand, he'd force her head back again and slit that fine neck from one side to the other, just underneath the jaw. Deep and bloody. The blood would be spilled upon her body and the floor in front of her. She would drown in her own blood. He blinked, tearing himself from the image while she closed the door behind them.

Then she would know what he wanted, "A good slave should be able to guess such things." Marcus said, looking for something to hold against her. He wanted to cut her but for some reason, he needed a reason. It was always like that. This was why the tiniest thing that his own slaves did wrong, would be enough, because he knew he should not hurt them like he did, but he wanted to. So he needed to justify what he did and the slaves displeasing him was enough.

"What do you think interests me?" He asked, assuming she would guess wrong, so he had a reason to show her.

@Echo

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Deia regarded him, forcing her eyes into a guarded mask so that he couldn’t tell her thoughts. Some men just liked hitting the girls they were with, or tying them up and teasing them with toys or their hands. Some liked their whores to beg for release, liked to be completely in control. Some were even so cruel as to want to break bones or choke their partners. 

“I think you like it rough,” she said. “Perhaps you like to hit your whore, or choke her? You like to be in complete control.” Despite her instincts telling her to stay as far away from this man as possible, she approached him slowly, making a move to undress him. 

@Atrice

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He eyed the bed but didn't sit down on it just yet. Instead he had questions for the whore of the night, this newcomer to the brothel, that he had not seen or harmed or fucked yet. She was untainted and he knew she would do or say something wrong at some point. They always did. Fucking slaves didn't know what was best for them. He asked her what she thought he would like, what would interest him and he watched her intently while she thought about it. Then she said he must like it rough and he liked to hit or choke his whore. She said he liked to be in complete control.

"I am in complete control, slave." He replied, "And I am not planning to choke you or hit you. Unless you disobey orders and struggle. So don't. That's not what interests me." Marcus said and she walked closer to him and made moves as if to undress him.

He caught her wrist with his hand, holding it very tightly as she made the move, "Is that what you think I want? Just to get naked and fuck you?" Then she hadn't read him well at all.

@Echo

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“Of- of course you are, dominus. I’m sorry for speaking incorrectly,” she said, her throat getting a lump in it. She furiously tried to swallow it away but it remained all the same. He wanted to hurt her, that much was clear to him. But what specifically he wanted to do was beyond her understanding. 

She yelped as he grabbed her wrist, tears pricking in the corners of her eyes as pain laced through her wrist. “You want to hurt me, don’t you, dominus?” She didn’t want to hurt. She wished she could disappear into the ground.

@Atrice

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When she stumbled over her words and apologized for speaking incorrectly, there was the tiny hint of a smile on his face. She had spoken incorrectly, hadn't she? She thought he liked to be in control, as if he wasn't already. But he was paying for her time - he was paying to make her his while they were together. And she better make it worth it, or he might complain to Titus and barely the gods knew what Titus would then do to her that Marcus would not already have done! And now she tried to undress him, which he hadn't asked for and didn't want yet, so he grabbed her wrist and held her hard, scolding her for assuming things. She yelped and was on the verge of tears and said he wanted to hurt her.

"I do." He confessed then, "You don't want that, do you? They never do." He rolled his eyes, "Do you want to beg for mercy?" She could, of course. But she wouldn't get it. And she would be stupid if she did, because that meant she thought she could have it her way and she could not. His fingers tingled to reach for the tiny knife he had with him. Slice a scar into her pretty face or body. He let go of her wrist before he'd break it. That wasn't his plan, after all.

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Finally, the man admitted that he did want to hurt her and she trembled at the thought of it. But what did he want to do, exactly? He said he didn’t want to hit or choke her. What else was there? As soon as he let go of her wrist, she stumbled back a few steps and clutched the wrist in her other hand, staring at him wide-eyed. 

She did want to beg for mercy. And she would; she couldn’t fight the urge. “Please, dominus. Please don’t hurt me.”

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He had to admit that seeing her tremble did something to him. She didn't like the thought of him hurting her, especially when she did not know what he would do. And what if he told her that the other girls here, they did know, and they still allowed this one... the newest girl in the house... to approach him on her own, and no one did anything to stop him from following her to this room. They knew he would hurt her and they did nothing. No one would do anything. She was his, tonight. 

She stared at him when he let go of her wrist and then she actually did beg for mercy. Stupid bitch.

"What good use would you be to me, if I couldn't do that? It's what I pay for." Marcus said and removed his tunica without her help, revealing his own, skinny and toned body. He reached for his purse, picking the small knife - it was just a blade, barely larger than a pinkie, attached to a wooden handle. Small enough to be hidden in a purse but large enough to be held by his hand, "You're stupid if you think you can tell me what to do. Now go and sit on the bed." 

@Echo

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As she spoke, she had fallen, quaking, to her knees, finding them weakened and unable to support her weight. She clutched her wrist and fought the burning of tears in her eyes, somehow feeling that tears would only make him hurt her faster for her weakness. The thought did occur to her that she’d been used by the more experienced girls there, as Marcus’s plaything for the night because they knew what he had in store. Impotent rage filled her breast as she realized no one had warned her. She could have stayed away had she known this was what was coming. But she didn’t know. And now she did and there was nothing she could do but submit. 

She watched him like a hawk as he undressed, letting out a short breath at the sight of the knife in his hand. That was it then - he was a cutter. At his command, her first instinct was to blurt out a resounding ‘no,’ but she choked it back, past the lump that was ever-growing in her throat. She gulped and stood wordlessly after a breathless moment, in which her instincts to live and her instincts as a whore fought one another for dominance. She couldn’t tell him no, so she slowly, unwillingly, dragged her feet to the bed, still clutching her wrist even though it wasn’t hurting anymore. It was like a lifeline. At last, she sat on the edge of the bed, having never put her back to the man. 

@Atrice

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Posted (edited)

He could have gone for one of the other girls and if this one had not approached him, he might have. If no one had approached him, he would just have picked one on his own and they would have screamed for him, because they tried this before and they knew how it hurt. Well, he hadn't been through every girl in the house, but a few of them. And he kind of liked that he could show them again and again to not disobey him or speak up against him. Marcus considered himself useful to the brothel itself, because he helped keeping the girls in check, making sure they knew that the patrons weren't someone they could mess with. Now this girl would know too. He didn't even know her name, but he knew she'd learn.

She was already on her knees before him and clutched her wrist where he held her, but then he undressed and told her to go to the bed. She exhaled when he quietly fetched his knife and she saw it. Now she might guess what he desired; what interested him. After a few moments, she stood and backed to the bed until she sat down. Marcus approached her then, looking her over, thinking he would not cut her face. But a scar across the chest, or maybe her ass. 

"You're good at obeying orders now." He said and this time, it was not his finger that touched her body, but the blunt edge of the knife that he ran across her throat, from one side to the other, "Lie down. On your back." Marcus then instructed her and waited for her to follow the order. If she did as told, he'd join her on the bed, settling between her legs on his knees. He made no move to enter her yet. Not with his member anyway. Instead he would look over her body, making up his mind on where he'd make her bleed.

@Echo

Edited by Atrice
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The tears were leaking out of her eyes in earnest now, as she watched the hand which held the blade rather than his face, and she raised a hand to wipe them from her cheeks. His eyes roamed over her and she knew that he wasn't seeing her as most men did, how she would look in certain positions, but rather where he would lay that knife to her skin, puncturing flesh, drawing blood and pain. His voice chilled her again as he commented that she was good at obeying orders, and he proceeded with his orders, telling her to lay down on her back. "Please, dominus..." she whispered, almost only to herself, as she felt the blunt edge on her throat. She knew it wasn't any use but instincts used for survival were fighting their way to the top, threatening to take control of her body and make her run, fight, anything but submit to the knife. 

Finally, she couldn't stand looking at him anymore and she closed her eyes, laying back slowly. She felt the weight of him shift the bed as he settled between her legs, sensing, rather than seeing, his eyes continuing their journey around her body. Absurdly, she wanted to tell him to just get on with it. The tension was getting to be too much and she just wanted it to be over. She wished she could train her mind to ignore that pain like she usually did the discomfort of any other customer. She wished any number of things as that moment before the knife fell stretched on into eternity. 

@Atrice

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Was she on the verge of tears? Wasn’t she a whore and didn’t she know what that meant… that meant submitting to strangers and here at the Elysium, it meant submitting to whatever the clients would do. Well almost. Titus preferred that Marcus didn’t kill the whores, so he didn’t, even if he sometimes thought they deserved it. And he wouldn’t kill this one either, this one who was now staring at the blade and wiping tears from her face. She was nothing.

 When he asked her to go and lie down on her back, she begged him again, but he didn’t react. He just waited. And then she finally moved, she would lie down and Marcus would follow her onto the bed. His eyes wandered over her body, trying to decide where to make her bleed and she was just kind of there. A blank canvas for him to perform his art upon. His art of making people bleed. He thought of the scar he recently made on Aculia’s cheek and his heart was pounding.

 He held the knife in his right hand and ran his free, left hand over her thigh and hip and over her side until he reached the curves of her right breast. Marcus leaned in over her and touched the soft and pale part of her breast with his hand. He glanced to her face, “If you move or struggle, it will be worse. And ugly. So don’t.” It was really kindness, to tell her these things. He could just have cut her without warning. At least now she knew what she should not do. He then held his free, left hand on her arm, to keep her down and he pressed the tip of the blade into her skin and let it slide through and he cut a wound, a few centimeters long only, before pulling the blade out. He stared at the blood, not at her. The sight of the blood leaving the body and running over her pale skin was fascinating and beautiful - and almost more than he could stand.

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Posted (edited)

Oh, to be anywhere than here! Back in Greece, on the road between Greece and Rome, in Hades, even. The terror and adrenaline at the suspense that coursed through her body was making her shake, but she couldn't bring herself to look at the blade anymore, even if she wanted to know where it was. She kept her eyes squeezed tight as he drew his hand over her body at last. This sort of touching was something she could understand, almost the touch of a normal customer. But this was no normal customer. 

She opened her eyes momentarily as he spoke, swallowing hard as a sob escaped her, and then turning her head away. How could she not struggle against him? She felt his hand on her breast. And then the knife cut into her flesh. She bit back a scream as pain coursed through her skin, pressing her lips together and biting them to resist opening her mouth and releasing the noise. She clenched both fists as well, more tears falling onto the bed. After a moment, she felt the blade leave her skin and she released a breath she hadn't known she was holding. 

Deia was out of breath, her chest rising and falling rapidly, which made the blood from the wound dribble out quicker and trail down the side of her body in a way that strangely tickled. Against her better judgement, she tried to pull her arm out of his grip so that she could cradle the wound, feeling that that might make it feel better, as well as tried to turn her body away from him. "Please," she sobbed again. "Please don't cut me again! Please!"

@Atrice

Edited by Echo
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