Chattering Monkeys

Mechanical Bunny · Site Admin Joined: 19 Apr 2007 Posts: 223

Ehh, it's a start. The next installment will be getting to the naughty part. This part isn't really all that important...

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The ramp was lowered with swift, practiced speed onto the soft dirt of the shore. Men immediately began to descend the planks of metal, their footsteps clanging loudly over the whispering breeze. Rank upon rank of heavily armored, stiff men, carrying glaives, swords, and shields, poured from the ship and went to various tasks. Their footsteps stirred up mud, but that was readily ignored. Few cast glances back at the huge flying fortress hovering behind the small ship that had brought them the rest of the way to land.

One such particular man, who stared out of his helmet with oddly luminescent eyes, stood to the side, waiting. He waited until the tamers brought out the Cold Ones. He took one and immediately mounted it. With a loud cry, he startled the cold one into a dead run. He ignored the blatant disapproving stares at those who were taking care of things here, first, before moving on. However, Aveleos didn’t have the time—or the patience—to dally.

His task was clear. Tie up loose ends—even if it was with bloody thread.

With a few solid hours of riding he reached his first destination. It was a forest where it was rumored his weak cousins were still hiding, holding ground against the Dark Elf invaders with nothing but guile. Aveleos sneered. How hard could it be to just burn the forest to the ground? Why hadn’t it been done already?

He entered the camp set up near the forest. It was not the hive of activity he had anticipated, but a dull drone of boredom, and perhaps even despair. His pitiless eyes surveyed the area, but nothing struck his attention.

“Who is in charge here?” His voice boomed over the entire camp. A few of the Dark Elves looked up at him sitting proud and erect on his mount, head swiveling. Someone yelled back, in an offering tone of appeasement, “Malignar’s in __ Forest.”

Aveleos nodded once and wheeled his mount about, riding it the few steps to the perimeter. He dismounted and patted the Cold One absently. It rumbled in what Aveleos took as a goodbye as he walked between the trees. Once inside his hand tightened on his glaive and he looked carefully around for enemies hiding, as they seemed to love to do.

A stealthy footstep made his body react automatically, whirling as he threw his foot out and swung his glaive. A dull thunk and a scream indicated he was successful, though he couldn’t see in the dim lighting.

He took a moment to let his eyes adjust, hardly sparing a glance at the Shadow Warrior sprawled and bloody on the ground at his feet. He carefully navigated over old, gnarly roots and under grasping branches until he saw some movement ahead. There stood a few his brethren, so he called, “Malignar,” loudly, caring not who heard him.

As he approached he noticed one of them staring at him, eyes shining like metal. He stopped a few feet away from the group, who stared at him like he was daft. The elf staring at him approached, and began to circle him. “I am Malignar,” he stated as he did so. Aveleos stood still, curiosity piqued by the man’s strange behavior, but all business nonetheless. The man further whispered, almost low enough not be heard discernably at all, “Yes…he will do nicely…”

The Black Guard ignored it. “I have come for you,” Aveleos said. “Lord Malekith wishes to know why our weak cousins remain here, alive, while we need the men here to be fighting elsewhere.”

Malignar finished the circle and stood, peering into the pitch back shadow of Aveleos’ helmet. A wry smile appeared on his face. “I’m sure he does. Perhaps you should scurry back to him and tell him it isn’t so simple.”

Aveleos’ hefted his weapon threateningly and growled, “I’ll make it simple.”

Malignar’s outstretched hand pleaded for him to stop, and it made him hesitate long enough to hear the man speak. “I think you misunderstand me.” Aveleos paused and watched the man’s hand absently withdraw to rest on the pommel of one of his sheathed swords. “It would be wise to hear me out.”

Aveleos relaxed his stance slightly, and changed tactics. “Your name is not the one Malekith told me. Perhaps I should hear about that.”

Even in the dim light, Aveleos could make out the slight worry that crossed Malignar’s face but briefly. “He’s dead.”

When Aveleos stood stoic and attentive, Malignar smiled at him disarmingly and continued, “I killed him and, as I was second in command, I took his place. It is a move I’m sure Lord Malekith would approve of.”

“And yet he did not order a change in command here.”

Malignar rubbed his sword hilt absently as he raised his other hand in a similar stopping gesture as before. “Indeed I did act without orders. But the man was a coward and a traitor.”

“In what way?”

“By his lack of progress it was obvious. Surely that is why you are here. Worry not, my friend, I am going to finish this tonight.”

Malignar grinned viciously, and Aveleos knew this was a man who knew no fear.

Aveleos nodded ponderously and said, “For your sake I hope you are successful. If you do what you say, Malekith will hold favor with you. If not…well, I will be there.”

He turned smartly and stalked in a straight line out of the forest, into the sunshine.

~~*~~

Aveleos walked up the dirt road to the ‘official’ entrance to the forest where he saw Dark Elves gathering. At the very front he saw a man with two swords, arms stretched in the air. Tendrils of magic coiled about him. Aveleos recognized him as Malignar, though in the fading sunlight he could see him better than he had in those trees before. The man had black hair that gave off a blue hue, turned purple in the sunset. Belts and buckles cinched tight leather armor to his body. A chalice swung madly on his belt as he cut the air savagely. A cry rose up from him, followed by the men behind him. Magic coiled about them too, and then they charged into the woods.

Aveleos followed with but a fraction of their haste and excitement, bringing up the rear. Malignar quickly disappeared into the darkness, so he was forced to wander aimlessly about, killing Shadow Warriors that unfortunately stumbled upon him in an almost bored manner.

That was, until he saw the bright flash of light. He hurried toward it and saw Malignar and a few soldiers fighting a woman in High Elf garb and long blonde hair, wielding a staff. She hit those around her hard enough to break bone, simultaneously summoning magic. Being cut by blades on all sides, still she fought on. Her next magic attack struck Malignar full on. The flash of light caused blood to erupt from a gaping wound opened right through his armor. He gritted his teeth and continued to fight. Aveleos’ eyes were drawn to the man’s body moving so elegantly, suddenly wishing there was more light to see by.

The man twirled much like a swordmaster, but without the light elegance; instead, he attacked with mad fury, cutting and slicing in a whirlwind of anger. The wild fervor reached a peak as the last of those he fought with fell gurgling and crying to the ground.

Finally, the archmage stumbled back, exhausted, and the Disciple of Khaine took his only chance. He embedded both swords into her chest, pushing them in as far as they would go. Blood gushed, and she died writhing on the blades, unable to even take her last breath. He let her slide off and stood numbly a moment.

He swayed on his feet, and Aveleos automatically dropped his glaive and surged forward, grabbing the man to keep him steady. Malignar looked up at him, face lit with wicked pleasure at his victory, but deathly tired, too. Aveleos thought he was staring into the face of a dead man. “I admire your courage,” he said, in what he felt would be a comforting way.

Malignar laughed weakly. “More like ambition, brother.” He sighed. “I fear I have drained too much of my energy. Is helping a victor too low a task for your kind?” Through what pain the dark elf must be feeling, he still showed amusement at his situation. Wordlessly, Aveleos ducked and scooped Malignar behind the arms, putting one over his shoulder.

~*~

Back at the camp Aveleos helped lay the man down onto a cot. He noticed without any hint of emotion that the man had fainted at some point during the way. He barked orders at the dumbfounded men around him. Soon he had bandages and other items and set to work cleaning Malignar’s body. To his surprise, the wound was not weeping blood as he had suspected it would be. In fact, it had already been healed to an advanced stage of recovery. It was as if he had been healing for weeks. It was mostly sealed up, and he looked stupidly at the needle and thread in his hand.

He shrugged and put it down, instead turning to the many belts on Malignar’s armor. He undressed him professionally, fingers slipping on thick globs of blood not yet dried. When Malignar was in just his undergarments, he handed away the armor to be repaired, if it could be, and set to further cleaning the man.

As he did so he wondered why he was doing such a lowly task. Any of the others could be doing it. Could easily take over and finish this. But something about Malignar fascinated him. He chocked it up to the fact he had defeated such an entrenched force led by such a powerful archmage in one night. He suspected it had been mostly luck, but the closed wound on his chest spoke volumes about one of Khaine’s followers.

~*~

Aveleos didn’t wait for Malignar to recover. Malignar discovered this when he awoke, shivering slightly in the nighttime chill. He was in just his undergarments, without blankets. A man entered and handed him a flask of cheap wine. The Black Guard soldier had left an hour ago, the person told him.

Malignar sipped the wine, taking the news as good. This meant his foolhardiness had been approved of. His plan had worked after all; now he was in command of what men there were left here.

“He left this letter for you, also, sir,” the person said as he took the flask back. Malignar took the letter with steady hands, and nodded to him. As the dark elf walked away, he opened the letter and began to read. They were his next orders.

~*~

It wasn’t until a few months later that they met again.

Mechanical Bunny · Site Admin Joined: 19 Apr 2007 Posts: 223

Who cares about proper lead-up? Where's the porn?!

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“Malignar?”

He blinked sleepily up at the figure above him, recognizing the face and long, blue-black hair even in the faint light. Over the past week it has become more and more familiar; it was as if everywhere he went, Malignar was there, too. Malignar’s fast ascension through the ranks was not to chance. Aveleos had become very wary of him and his motives.

Malignar shifted, standing over him more, and he saw the odd bronze eyes fixed on him. The man was leaning over him, and upon recognition his muscles stiffened. How had he snuck over to the bed without awakening him? Ever since he was younger he had been unable to sleep if someone was walking around, and it had often saved his life. Now, however, he could have been assassinated in his sleep and be completely unaware. So surprised was he, he found himself just staring up at Malignar, feeling his body laying vulnerable in bed as Malignar studied his reaction.

Aveleos frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but Malignar put a gloved hand on his lip and hushed him softly. Aveleos was startled by how warm the finger was and was instantly silenced. Malignar came closer, leaning an arm on the bed, and letting his finger trail from Aveleos’ lips and over his cheek, to down his neck. The touch was slow and sensual. Shocked, Aveleos lay there as if rooted to the spot. He blinked, and suddenly Malignar was closer, so close that it blurred his vision. To his even greater surprise he felt lips on his. They were so warm and soft he froze again, mind going blank.

And then a fury burned brighter than the sun inside him, and he felt his body move as if it was out of his control. He grabbed Malignar’s shoulders and sat up at once, twisting his body and slamming the other man down on the bed. Half on top of him and tangled in the blankets, he closed his fingers on the exposed flesh of Malignar’s neck. In his anger-hazed mind, he realized that Malignar was not wearing his customary gorget, or shoulder guards. He wore the gloves and leather armor with the Disciple of Khaine burned red into the front, but was otherwise unencumbered.

Malignar arched his neck as if trying to get away from the death grip Aveleos had on him, but an infuriatingly calm look was on his face. His eyes gleamed uncannily in the light, but he was otherwise thrown into shadow. Aveleos felt his hands come up to defend himself, but at the sound of Aveleos growling dangerously they dropped limply to the bed.

Aveleos' mind was in a whirl, feeling as if he was still asleep and dreaming. The anger was quickly fading as Malignar was submissive beneath him, and the feeling of lips on his—a sensation he hadn’t had the pleasure of experiencing for quite some time—lingered.

He realized he didn’t really have any cause to kill the man… Though that could be decided within an instant. He let his fingers ease, and watched as the man gasped in a breath. Malignar coughed and shifted, arching up slightly, and felt his throat idly. Aveleos itched to grip that slender neck again, watch again as Malignar lay there prone. Instead, he sat still as Malignar shifting beneath him made his face grow hot. Everything the other man did was somehow...sensual. It was getting on the Guard's nerves. He narrowed his eyes at the Disciple of Khaine and demanded to know what business he had here.

Malignar laughed lightly, still breathless. “You would have found out if you hadn’t attacked me.” That infuriating smile graced the dark elf’s face.

“Don't play games with me, Disciple! What foul deeds are you planning?”

“Foul? I'd hardly say that.” The man sat up, and Aveleos' begrudgingly let him, though he did not back off lest Malignar gain an upper hand. It brought them uncomfortably close together, but Malignar didn't seem to mind. By the light of the window, Malignar saw Aveleos get slightly pink in the face, but otherwise appeared angry.

His voice came whispery soft as they looked each other challengingly in the eyes. “What would you say if I confessed that I wanted you?”

Aveleos found himself frozen once again. Malignar caressed his cheek with the back of his hand. The leather felt smooth on his face. Aveleos looked skeptical. “Want? What nonsense is spouting from your mouth?”

Malignar laughed, a low, husky laugh. Coupled with their close proximity in the dark bedroom, lying tangled together, it suddenly dawned on Aveleos how intimate the situation was. And he realized what was meant by 'want'. A flash of lewd thought, Malignar naked and writhing underneath him in a similar position to how they were now, flitted through his mind before he squashed it.

Aveleos roughly pushed Malignar's hand away and held it down on the bed. “I should have your head for even suggesting such a thing. I would never touch the likes of you, even if you were a woman.”

Malignar got a bemused expression on his face. “Oh, I hardly doubt you have any inhibitions due to my male anatomy, dear.” Aveleos got bright red in the face from this accusation.

“How dare you,” he hissed, before smacking Malignar with the back of his hand. The blow knocked him back down onto the bed. Thinking he had the upper hand, Aveleos leaned down with a snarl on his face, ready to denounce the other man.

Suddenly he was flying through the air, and landed with a grunt on his back. His body moved automatically, rolling awkwardly to the side in case of a successive attack, and then attempting to stand. As he was almost at full height and ready to move or attack, he found a blade at this throat.

Aveleos glared into Malignar's bronze eyes, eyes that held no discernible emotion. Malignar pressed the blade more firmly against Aveleos, causing him to flinch and back away. He backed away until his back hit the wall. Malignar smirked and shook his head slowly. “Dear, dear Aveleos... You would do well to satisfy my whims, or you could find yourself in a very uncomfortable situation.”

“You're threatening me?” Aveleos asked incredulously. “You realize that to threaten me, is to threaten Lord Malekith. You are a traitor.”

“On the contrary. My only true master is Khaine. I live to serve him alone. Malekith comes second, and only when it pleases my lord Khaine. You should be thankful that Khaine has picked you; take it as an honor.”

With those words, Malignar kept the blade at Aveleos' throat as he lowered himself to his knees. His free hand worked a chalice hanging from his belt free and set it nearby on the ground. Aveleos had the urge to kick it over, it was that close, but thought better of it. He had no idea what the Dark Elf had in mind. He did not seem the type to hesitate using force to keep Aveleos in line, and Aveleos wanted to keep his neck intact today.

The hand, on its way back up, grasped the Black Guard's leg firmly. Fingers splayed, he felt Aveleos' leg through the wool night-time pants he wore before traveling upwards. Aveleos found himself getting quite hot all of the sudden. Malignar only smiled knowingly as his hand traveled up and up. Aveleos dreaded where that hand was headed. He met Malignar's eyes with a steely expression, showing defiance, showing that he wouldn't give in so easily. The sharp steel at his throat was the only thing keeping him from lashing out.

Malignar's hand reached his thigh, and traveled up the inside. He made sure to massage the sensitive flesh there, and despite himself, Aveleos found himself getting hard. He knew where those knowledgeable fingers were heading. He tried to calm his breathing, but it was getting faster despite his efforts.

The pressure rose up until it was dangerously close to his enlarging member, and at the last moment barely circumnavigated it. Instead he felt his pants being tampered with, Malignar untying the cord that held his pants up. Once that was done he savagely tugged it, causing his pants to fall. Its descent was stopped by his now half-hard erection, and Malignar pulled on the cloth roughly. Aveleos gasped as the action tugged at his erection before freeing it completely. Finally he had to look away from Malignar, embarrassed.

He could not believe what was happening. What in Malekith's name was Malignar doing?

A firm hand gripped the base of his cock, and he felt a slick pressure touch the tip of his dick. The slight feeling made his hips jerk, but he was ever mindful of the blade still at his throat, and he forced his body to go rigid. His breathing was coming fast now, loud in his ears with each breath. His blood, too, was singing in his veins, as he felt it rush straight to his groin. As a wet heat encased the head of his cock, Aveleos grunted out, “Malignar...stop.”

Malignar only laughed that throaty laugh again and swirled his tongue. Aveleos head fell back against the wall, gasping for breath. The feeling was exquisite. It had been so long since he had sought out pleasures of the flesh; his life was dedicated to Malekith now, leaving little room for romance. He felt all thought leave him as the pleasure intensified, as he felt his cock become fully hard and strain against Malignar's onslaught.

He heard himself moan, and strangled the sound in his throat. It only made Malignar try harder. He leaned forward, pushing Aveleos' hard length deeper into his sucking mouth. He took in more and more until Aveleos felt his manhood hit the back of Malignar's throat. It was so wonderful, he couldn't help but buck his hips. Malignar choked slightly and backed off, and Aveleos couldn't resist looking at the other's face to see his reaction. Malignar was looking up at him with accusing eyes, but never stopped stroking his tongue and sucking.

The sight only made him feel like he'd been stabbed with a flaming hot poker of lust. Looking had been a bad idea. That proud face, stuffed with his hard cock... That image would be burned forever in his memory. If it was possible, he thought he saw amusement flicker in Malignar's eyes, before he began to suck in earnest and bob his head. He first took on a slow rhythm, and Aveleos looked away again, unable to bear the sight that was driving his lust on even further. All thoughts of the threat, the blade at his throat, vanished. Instead, the world consisted of wet heat, tight pressure, and the resulting building pleasure.

Within moments, Malignar could taste his sweet precum. Feeling Aveleos was now ready, he thrust his head back and forth harder and faster. He tugged with his hand still gripping the base of Aveleos' cock to help slide the hard flesh deeper into his mouth. He took in as much as he could, using all the skill he possessed.

It wasn't long before Aveleos wordlessly shuddered and thrust up once. Malignar took it, letting Aveleos ride out his orgasm deep inside his throat, only pumping his hand to encourage as much cum as possible. When it was finished Malignar sucked off the cum on Aveleos' softening cock and reached for his chalice.

He put his mouth above the chalice and spit into it. He even coughed, trying to get as much cum out of his mouth and into the cup as possible. He didn't notice Aveleos quickly and guiltily pulling up his pants. It was awkward to do so with the sharp sword still at his throat, but he did it anyway.

Abruptly Malignar backed off, standing and lowering his sword in one fluid motion. He smiled, which was eerie in the moonlight filtering into the room, and sheathed his blade. “Not bad, Black Guard. You've surprised me. Perhaps I should have utilized you sooner. You shouldn't let such lust build up, or else you will find yourself distracted from your duties.”

Aveleos glared at him, and couldn't help but notice a bit of cum still in the corner of Malignar's mouth. The other man saw him staring at it and his tongue flicked out slowly to claim it, bringing it into his mouth just as slowly. He pretended to savor it before spitting it into the chalice, too. Malignar laughed huskily at the reaction that had garnered.

“Ready for another go-round, love?” he asked.

“I'll kill you,” Aveleos snarled. It was an empty threat at the moment, however, because he made no move to do so. He was still too drained and shocked to do much of anything but lean on the wall. He had never known an orgasm to drain so much out of him. Had it really been that long since he'd had pleasure?

Seeing the other's discomfort, Malignar waved his sword hand nonchalantly. “Do not worry, the spell's after-affects will disappear after a good night's sleep.”

“What? What sorcery have you cast on me?” Aveleos snarled, rallied enough to push himself off the wall to stumble toward the Disciple. Malignar only smiled before turning and walking away.

“Sweet dreams, beautiful,” he called over his shoulder and left, swirling the cup in the air mockingly at the incredulous man watching him. The door closed behind him and Aveleos fell to his knees, breathing hard. It was still hard to comprehend what had just happened. He forced himself proudly to his feet and walked on legs of jelly to the bed, where he collapsed and fell asleep immediately.

Mechanical Bunny · Site Admin Joined: 19 Apr 2007 Posts: 223

The next week was a blur. His thoughts were often distracted by what had happened that night. Aveleos could hardly stand the humiliation of being used like that. Despite how he had never surrendered, the fact he had enjoyed it seemed like a type of surrender. He felt like a traitor, like Malignar had sullied him by association somehow.

Every time he thought about it his face grew hot and he felt like smashing something. Seeing Malignar as he went about his business, for the most part ignoring him, was just as infuriating. And always, like a shadow in the back of his mind, he wanted to know what his seed had been used for.

The tension he was experiencing reached a crescendo in, of all places, the bathhouse. Elves loved languishing in warm water in a building that was open to the warm summer air. When it turned cold they draped the bathhouse “walls” with insulating sheets, warmed by the steam rising from the baths. The particular one that Aveleos went to, the only one near their camp, had a small, constructed waterfall one could use to wash off quickly, or else wade into the pool in the center of the room. Unlike the high elves, he did not enjoy the night air; it made him feel paranoid, like an assassin could jump in at any moment. Being naked meant little to him, but being in the bath should someone attack meant he was vulnerable and at a disadvantage.

Aveleos chose the time of day that most of his brethren were busy, and therefore he could enjoy the bathhouse to himself. With only him making noise, he could listen for any intruders. He was in the bathhouse in this way when it happened.

The noise of movement get closer reached him, and he got out of the bath and went for his sword. He drew it in readiness, just in case. The figure that entered was a fellow dark elf. It was too dark in the early morning light and the shade of the columns to see whom it was. He sheathed his sword and walked back to the bath, completely ignoring them.

As his thighs dipped into the water as he set himself down, he heard the person disrobing. A sudden memory of a dream he’d had the night that Malignar had… The dream had been Malignar beneath him similar to the way he’d been when Aveleos choked him, but he was naked, and Aveleos felt confusion at the same time as there was pleasure. All they had done in is dream was stroke each other’s nude bodies, but it had been completely sexual and upsetting.

He forced the thought away. What Malignar had done to him was a fever, or a plague. He couldn’t shake it off, and it didn’t want to go away. His thoughts had been tormented by lust more often than not, distracting him. It made him so very angry. He wished he could close his hands around Malignar’s throat again and squeeze hard until the infuriating Disciple’s eyes popped out and blood frothed out of his mouth. How satisfying that would be.

The person had finished and approached the bath. Aveleos ignored him as he used a hard bar of soap to scrub at the dirt on his skin, clinging to him since that morning when he had been sparring. The person was at a good enough distance not to be intrusive, but any closer and he’d be in Aveleos’ bubble. They bathed together silently for awhile.

Then the sun began to rise, and the light filtered into the shady bathhouse, sneaking around the pillars and low walls until it lit up the bath. He wasn’t interested in who was bathing with him. That was, until a hauntingly familiar voice spoke up. “Aveleos?” The voice held amusement, and Aveleos bristled. His head snapped up and he stared in both shock and anger at the figure who had been inadvertently torturing him for a week.

Aveleos was speechless at the sight that greeted him. Malignar was sitting in the shallow pool, his hair soaked and slicked back, trailing over his shoulders in wet rivulets. His naked upper chest was showing, toned and powerful. One wouldn’t expect a man of such lithe frame to be so toned. He was looking at Aveleos with those uncanny bronze eyes of his. There was amusement written on his face, which made Aveleos fume even more.

Since he was speechlessly staring at him, Malignar smirked and continued. “Looking healthy I see.” That was the most he had said to Aveleos in a week, and Aveleos found his head spinning. That voice was the same as it had been that night, sultry and evil.

Aveleos wanted to leave, NOW, but he did not want to get out to let Malignar ogle him. He also found himself staring at Malignar’s long neck, wishing he could just choke the life out of him…

Aveleos turned away from him in a huff, and continued bathing. Malignar chuckled lightly and, by the sound of the water sloshing and splashing behind him, also returned to his former task. Aveleos was finished, however, and he found himself scrubbing his chest one more time, delaying the inevitable. He wasn’t going to be able to leave after Malignar because the man had been here far less than him… and he didn’t want to seem as if he hovering around for other reasons.

His dilemma was increased when the movement of water behind him indicated Malignar coming uncomfortably close. He felt the man’s presence directly behind him, and he tensed considerably. A feather-light touch on his back, and his back muscles twitched. It took all his self-control not to turn and punch the other man in the face. As it was, he froze as the touch got more bold and smoothed over his back, stopping to feel the many scars covering him.

“You know, I could heal these scars,” Malignar whispered. Aveleos could hardly hear him. He resisted asking for clarification, instead opting for bluntness. “That is unnecessary.”

Malignar grunted in dissent and pressed his chest against Aveleos’ back. The attempted protest choked in Aveleos throat, resulting in a loud sound that seemed much like he was clearing his throat, when hard flesh pressed into his lower back. That sly tongue licked at his wet neck and arms wrapped around Aveleos waist.

Malignar’s lips brushed his ear as he whispered to Aveleos, fingers trailing over the taut stomach. “I’ve been thinking about you all week. You tasted so delicious… I would kill for more of that sweetness.” His teeth nipped at the shell of Aveleos’ ear, and the Black Guard gasped, shocked at the sensitivity there. He felt his body begin to respond to the other man, and it angered him.

He stumbled forward, breaking Malignar's grip and very nearly causing the other man’s teeth to rip his ear. He whirled and punched Malignar right in the face. The satisfying sound echoed off the water, and Malignar was sent flying back. He automatically grasped at the edge of the bath, and looked so frail for a moment as he was gripping the marble, staring at Aveleos incredulously. That faded within a moment and he rose up, looking angry.

“I thought I told you, you’d regret resisting my whims, Guard,” Malignar hissed, tentatively feeling his already-darkening face where an ugly bruise would surely be very soon. Aveleos only smirked at him triumphantly.

“What could you do? Just a measly Disciple of Khaine.” The last was said with vehemence.

Malignar’s face showed his intense disapproval. “Khaine is more powerful than any other god, and an infinite amount more than any mere mortal, like your precious Malekith,” Malignar retaliated.

Aveleos laughed, a cold and mocking laughter. “You think so? Why can’t he make me obey your whims then? Only Malekith has that power, so he must be infinitely more powerful than a mere god. He, at least, has true power in this world.”

A clash seemed imminent. They glared at each other from across the bath. Then Malignar relaxed, and the wickedest smile spread across his face. “Well then, why don’t I show you how powerful my god is?”

“Just try it,” Aveleos growled, puffing up his chest in challenge.

They both moved at once. Water splashed madly as they grappled with one another. Aveleos clearly had the upper hand in strength and soon had Malignar pinned on the ground beside the bath, choking him. He was inadvertently between Malignar’s legs, which dangled into the pool, but he ignored this, intent on killing the Disciple before him.

Malignar was really struggling now, completely unlike the other night. He knew Aveleos was serious, especially when he said, “Is your god going to save you now?” Malignar’s hands pulled at the gripping hands and then strong arms, looking for any sort of handhold, something to stop the rapidly falling blackness. His frantic panic was quite pleasurable and Aveleos smiled. This method would take awhile, and waited patiently, never easing the pressure.

After a torturous minute of this, Malignar seemed to give up and closed his eyes. That’s what Aveleos thought before he saw something appear on the other’s forehead. Aveleos leaned forward and squinted to see what it was. When he realized what it was, fear made his chest tighten uncomfortably. It was the bloody hand of Khaine. Malignar’s eyes flashed open, and his fist stabbed upward. Aveleos felt intense pain flare and looked down at his chest and saw Malignar’s hand piercing inside him, up to mid-arm. He tried to take a breath, but couldn’t, and he saw blood well up around Malignar’s arm. His shocked mind tried to make sense of this, but was unable. There was no way… How…

He realized his grip was slackening and he focused on trying to maintain a grip… Just maintain… He was just as unable, however, and he felt his consciousness slipping. His body fell, then all was black.

Mechanical Bunny · Site Admin Joined: 19 Apr 2007 Posts: 223

Aveleos awoke lying down on his back. The first thing he noticed was that his hair and body felt dry; the next thing he noticed was that, despite trying to, he was unable to move. He blinked, looking blearily around the room. He didn’t recognize it; it was very dark, lit only by flickering torches. He didn’t even see a door from his perspective. Oddly enough, his body felt fine; he wondered if he had dreamt his encounter with Malignar. Then that arrogant face appeared above him, and he growled, struggling against what he realized were bindings. Shackles on his wrists and angles clanked, and the leather of the many belts strapping him down to the cold table creaked. He found himself breathing too hard; Malignar put a gentle hand on his chest.

“You’re hyperventilating. Calm down.”

The voice was gentle, and Aveleos found himself doing as it commanded, though not because he was commanded to. It was good advice. Spots had appeared in his vision, but as he calmed down they faded away. His dizziness receded enough to focus on his situation. He was completely immobile and tied up, naked, on a cold stone table in some underground lair.

Just great.

Malignar caressed Aveleos’ chest with the back of his hand almost absent-mindedly, belying a familiarity the two did not have. Aveleos growled at this, glaring, but Malignar just smiled, knowing he couldn’t do a thing about it.

“Ah, my pet. Lively already I see,” he said, sighing contentedly. “Perhaps that’s why I like you so much.” He leaned closer to Aveleos face, causing the other man to bare his teeth at him. He whispered at the ferocious face, “I will enjoy breaking you immensely.” He straightened.

Then he began walking along the table, trailing his fingertips over Aveleos’ body, sending shivers through the Black Guard and causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end. His breathing quickened, though not as badly as before. Those fingertips traced him so intimately. How dare he?

Malignar continued. “Those that know me back home know that I have a…’hobby’. No one here knows that I do, however. I am, in my free time, a tamer. A rather good one, if I do say so myself. But you know, taming and training animals got old after awhile. I moved on to tougher, more intelligent prey: our weak cousins, humans, even dwarves. But they broke so easily under my knowledge; I became frustrated. I’ve been searching for a suitably tough specimen, but so far none of our enemies have been one. Then I realized, what greater challenge, and what greater pleasure, my own race could give me. Unlike the whiny High Elves, and unlike the idiotic humans, we Dark Elves have tenacity and true hate.” By this point, he had come all the way around the table and stood in his former position. Aveleos just stared at him in shock; to hear such traitorous words spilled from those righteous lips!

“I was correct. Our brethren are tougher than any other. I have proved this many times; but we can still be broken. Yes, you would be surprised; we think of ourselves as so much stronger, unbreakable, but this is an illusion. The illusion of the hunter hunting his prey, who, with a fateful buck, is gored on its horn.” Malignar dragged his nails down Aveleos’ chest, quite deliberately scratching over a nipple which had hardened in the cold. Aveleos gasp and thrashed, only succeeding in turning his head away from his tormentor. Aveleos was grudge to admit it even to himself, but that had felt good.

“You,” Malignar breathed, as if enraptured, “however, are quite unlike the others. I’ve had had my eyes on attaining a Black Guard for quite some time. They are perhaps the most bloodthirsty and strongest of our brethren. I have been watching you and a few others of your peers, but I felt myself drawn to you. Do you think perhaps it is the weakness I see within you?”

Aveleos only growled in response, eyes flashing from this insult. Malignar laughed and rubbed his palm over Aveleos’ stomach as if he was consoling a troubled child with a stomachache. “No worries, my pet. I can truly find no flaw within you. Everything is perfect. Your temper, your fighting prowess, your muscular body… shhtt,” he hissed, “even your voice carries with it the ring of authority and power.” Malignar seemed to be caught up in a fever now, and was trailing one hand continuously over Aveleos’ chest and the other through Aveleos’ hair. “Even your sexual prowess, I can sense, is beyond measure.” Malignar grinned lewdly down at Aveleos, who felt a sinking in his stomach. This man was mad. Absolutely mad.

“However, that perfection I can corrupt. That perfection I can turn against you, just as I have turned so many others' strength against them. Soon you will obey my every command, and forget your precious Malekith. You will be dedicated to a higher cause than the one you bear now; as my first act of welcome, I will show you what awaits should you surrender to me. Completely.”

He walked away with that last word ringing around the otherwise lifeless room, and Aveleos’ eyes roamed madly, trying to find some way to escape. He strained against his bonds, not even stopping when he felt the metal shackles bite into his wrists or the spots again appear in his vision as his chest strained against leather. When Malignar returned he was holding his ornate chalice that Aveleos recognized as the same one that had collected his sperm on that night. That just made him struggle harder. Wordlessly Malignar pushed on Aveleos chest, and just like that he was pushed back down completely.

“Fuck you,” he growled out, barely able to take a breath, but needing to vent his frustration.

“All in good time, my pet.”

The reply gave a shock to his system and he went completely still, frozen like a deer in headlights as he stared up at Malignar incredulously. “What?” he croaked.

Malignar only laughed in that breathless way of his and put the chalice beside Aveleos’ head. He could see each shining gem in the elegant craftsmanship. It was engraved with swirling designs and what appeared to be people, barely detectable within the vortex of the metal, all of them writhing in agony, their small faces contorted. Aveleos stared at the vision on the chalice. It definitely portrayed the morbidity of the man who owned it.

Malignar spryly jumped up on the steady table, throwing his leg over Aveleos in one fluid, practiced motion. Aveleos looked at him, attempting to appear intimidating, but failed. He was completely helpless bound as he was, and his body was weaker than he was used to. As if sensing his thoughts, Malignar leaned down and whispered directly into Aveleos’ face, eyes half-lidded, “Do you want to know why you feel so weak?”

Aveleos set his mouth in a firm line and glared.

“Because you were dead only but ten minutes ago.”

Malignar watched Aveleos reaction, saw the thinking process that was taking place.

“Even death cannot save you from me,” the Disciple whispered, leaning forward more as if he would kiss Aveleos. With his head so close to his own, Aveleos had the urge to headbutt him, but he resisted. Nothing good would come of that. However, if Malignar kept it up, he wouldn’t be able to hold back his anger anymore.

Malignar sighed contentedly when Aveleos stared challengingly back at him, just daring him to try it. Malignar smirked. “That, my pet, is the power of my god.”

Feeling like he’d teased his toy long enough, Malignar sat up and pressed his thighs down. Aveleos hissed as he sat directly on his flaccid manhood. THAT was uncomfortable. He realized that Malignar wore only leather pants and a loose tunic which was untied at the top, revealing the same smooth, angular chest that he’d seen in the bathhouse. Thankfully… The armor he usually wore would have been terrible on such sensitive flesh. The leather pants creaked ominously as Malignar leaned forward, practically laying on the prone body beneath him. The motion rubbed Aveleos’ crotch as he did so, and he grit his teeth. Malignar began massaging the muscles of his chest, and licked at his neck. Aveleos stubbornly lay where he was, refusing to give the Disciple any more of his neck. Malignar took this in stride, instead trailing kisses over his collarbone.

So far, Aveleos’ body was intrigued, but he was not impressed. Then Malignar bit down on his collarbone, teasing the thin skin there with his teeth. The pain was so small, it was hardly noteworthy; however, coupled with the warm body pressed down on his chest and crotch, it caused his hips to buck. He hissed, angry at his reaction and angry at Malignar for causing it. Malignar ignored his inner torment and licked the mark he had just made. He hummed in approval at the taste and went lower. Aveleos defiantly stared at him still, and noticed for the first time that his long hair was tied back in a ponytail, which, as he moved, slid over his back and hung by his left shoulder. The strands tickled at his right arm and for a moment he was distracted by it. He focused desperately on those touches rather than what Malignar was doing with his lips, tongue, and teeth.

Malignar closed in on a nipple and slammed him back to what the other man was doing, unable to stop the gasp the sudden touch elicited. He continued to stare at Malignar’s hair as he felt the other man’s mouth suck. It felt good. Of all the things… “What are you doing?” he gasped as teeth massaged the hard nub. He half-heartedly struggled, unable to stop wiggling at the feeling. Malignar didn’t respond, just licked and sucked at it more. One hand reached for the untouched nipple and the other stroked Aveleos’ side. Aveleos felt himself growing hard from these touches, and he squeezed his eyes shut in mortification.

With one last lick Malignar withdrew and he said, as he shifted to the other nipple to tease that one too, “There is no shame in pleasure, Aveleos. Just enjoy it.” Aveleos numbly shook his head in disagreement, eyes still tightly shut. He called on all his willpower to stop himself from getting harder, but that mouth working on him flooded him with pleasure, and his body responded. It was out of his control. This was new: he was so used to his body doing everything he ordered it to. It was trained extensively to carry out almost impossible tasks, in fighting and in physical feats, but in this realm he was untrained. It was not standard to tame one’s libido in training, but just to curb it in order to focus.. He was straining with all his might and he yet he still couldn’t make him body obey.

A desperate cry escaped his throat when Malignar slid his weight over Aveleos’ hard length. “Hunh!” He turned his face away, unable to bear the shame. He quivered as Malignar trailed kisses down his stomach, over his abs, and lower. Malignar shifted as he descended, crawling backwards and therefore lifting his weight from Aveleos’ cock. Aveleos moaned low and quiet in longing without realizing he did so, too focused on the throbbing below. Being exposed to the cold air again made Aveleos breathe harder, wiggling at the torturous feeling. Malignar kept trailing kisses down his body until he reached Aveleos’ bobbing cock, which he grasped in his fist. His fingers smoothed the dribbling precum over the head and down his length, eliciting a strangled cry from the focus of his attentions. “Nnn, fuck,” Aveleos hissed, his hips lurching forward of their own accord. The pressure on his cock was gentle, therefore not enough. He wanted more. He bucked, trying to get that friction going stronger. Maddeningly, Malignar kept up the same amount of pressure as he licked the tip. Aveleos gasped.

Malignar kissed the head, running his lips over it. Aveleos shuddered and breathed hard, trying to keep his budding passion under control. His wrists and ankles hurt where he was straining against the shackles and he forced himself to relax. That didn’t last long, as Malignar slid the first inch in. The only thing that kept him from thrusting his cock further into Malignar’s mouth and down his throat was the Disciple’s hands holding down his hips. As it was, Malignar teased his tongue and lips over the heated flesh. Aveleos groaned at the teasing touches that felt so good. Malignar was better than any whore he’d sated his passion with before. He supposed the man had intimate knowledge of anatomy, in addition to having a male body, too. Aveleos found that a tad disturbing as he thought of it, but found himself not to mind all that much. It didn’t really matter to him since it felt good.

Malignar moaned like he was tasting a rich cake and sucked one last time before withdrawing. He licked his lips. Then he began to say something, quietly. Aveleos was just about to request he speak louder when he made out some of the words. “Khaine, I give…” and the rest was too quiet. The words came into focus only occasionally, but Aveleos soon got the idea. He was casting a spell; his conclusion was validated by the chanting, lilting tone Malignar was using. Aveleos found himself panicking as he heard, “blood”, “Khaine”, “give”, and “body” all in one sentence. “Stop,” he gasped, but was unable to do more as he felt himself clamp up. It was like his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth and his body went still and pliant.

“Nnn,” he protested, but was otherwise unable to move. He found himself staring up at the stone tiled ceiling. Then Malignar bit the inside of his thigh savagely, causing him to moan helplessly at the pain. “Nnngh…” He felt wetness on his thigh, and thought for a moment thought it was Malignar’s saliva, but quickly realized his mistake: it was blood. Then the pleasure resumed, and he forgot all about the pain. The pressure was the same, but it felt like his sensitivity had gone up quite a few notches. He found himself able to move to some extent again, and thrashed his head, arching his back. “Shit,” he uttered. “Shit. Ahh!!”

Malignar took him in the rest of the way and he felt his cock hit the back of the Disciple of Khaine’s throat. The pleasure was so great he felt like he would burst from it. He cried out in earnest. “AHH HAAHH!! Oh fuck, OH FUCK. Hunh!”

Malignar bobbed his head, sliding his hot mouth back and forth, and the friction sent the Guard into a frenzy. He couldn’t think, couldn’t even feel anything else but that mouth. His vision turned white. Then a torrent of heat seemed to enter his body through his cock and he thrust his hips up over and over into that heat, welcoming the inferno that enveloped his body. He screamed as his body was lit by the most pleasurable pain he had ever experienced in his entire life. It was like the pleasure was burning in his veins, and yet he didn’t mind in the least. He didn’t think he could take this pleasure and stay sane, but he continued to for an unknown amount of time. Seconds were meaingless now; everything was the intense pleasure. That wet heat he knew was Malignar’s mouth welcomed him again and again. He felt his body start to shut down, his heart slowing, his breath coming ragged and shallow, and still he thrust his hips. Reality was crashing. And then the wet heat was gone from his crotch and he moaned incoherently. He barely registered movement beside his head before a pressure stroked his manhood, and he heard a voice.

“Come.” The word was in his head, but he heard it with his ears too, and he realized it was Malignar. He shook his head deliriously, unwilling to give up this pleasure, and some part of him reminding himself that he didn’t want to surrender.

“COME.” The order seared into his stomach and he felt his orgasm appear out of nowhere, causing him to scream and arch his back as his cum came spurting forth. Over and over again he came until there was nothing left to give, and his screaming subsided into sobbing. The pleasure pumped out with his seed, and with it gone his body collapsed. He lay there panting, eyes unfocused, still hazy from his ordeal.

“And that, my dear, is what is waiting for you when you give in, whenever you should want it,” Malignar said to his defeated ‘pet’. Aveleos could only numbly stare at the ceiling. Malignar climbed off the table fluidly. Chalice in hand, he walked away. His footsteps echoed in the small room, followed by the sound of a large, squeaky metal door slamming shut. Then it was silent. Aveleos was left with his thoughts and his aching body.

Mechanical Bunny · Site Admin Joined: 19 Apr 2007 Posts: 223

DISCLAIMER: In no way do I condone rape. This is for pure entertainment purposes. The victim of rape often experiences digust, shame, anger, and other horrible emotions, and is haunted by the experience. Oftentimes they do not feel any pleasure either, and if they do it only makes the shame and digust worse. This story is a misrepresentation of actual rape (hopefully I don't have to say this, but I wanted to make sure this was clear). I repeat, in no way do I condone rape.

Now, onto the story. I hope it is enjoyable. It's a bit graphic I suppose, depends on your tolerance? (@_@)

----

Aveleos woke with a start. It was pitch black in the room now. He had been startled awake by the squeaking of the door opening. Some light came in, soon followed by flashes of brighter and brighter light until the room was as lit up as before. He was momentarily blinded and squinted against the light. A shadow fell over him and he glared, out of habit, at his captor. Or killer, and savior. Aveleos wasn’t the type to worry about such things; all that was important was getting the hell out of here.

He voiced this sentiment which had been brewing in is head. “You won’t get away with this you know. They’ll be looking for me. And when they find me down here, they’ll execute you.”

His words echoed in the small room, and he made out Malignar staring down at him. A wry smile broke out on that arrogant face, and then he began to laugh. Aveleos growled low in his throat at this unexpected reaction.

“My poor Aveleos. I was going to wait to tell you this later, but… perhaps it is a good time to bring this up?” He sat on the edge of the table and looked down at his captive. “They’re not coming for you.” He said it so matter-of-factly, Aveleos almost believed him. Before believing anything, however, he waited for an explanation. Malignar seemed to be savoring this moment.

“I’m not the traitor here. It was you who assaulted me in the bathhouse, almost killing me. I just barely managed to stab you in the gut, saving my life, but resulting in your death. They were surprised, to be sure, but the evidence was so overwhelming—“

“DAMN YOU!” Aveleos howled, straining against his restraints and causing the table to vibrate with his fury. Malignar shook his head solemnly. When the echoes of Aveleos’ despair faded, Malignar calmly continued. “You’re dead. They checked your pulse. They weren’t about to try to bring you back, and even if they tried your stomach wound would have proved impossible to heal. Your missions have been reassigned, your possessions given out.” He laid a gentle hand on Aveleos’ head and stroked his hair as he said the next words. “You have nothing left, but me.”

Aveleos just stared at Malignar, unable to absorb this news. Did Malekith believe me to be a traitor too? Did they all really believe I was a pervert? He closed his eyes, wishing with all his might for Malignar to go away. He didn’t think he could stand this, stand the cause of all his trouble sitting beside him.

Then his eyes flashed open and he growled with all the ferocity he had left: “I will kill you. I swear it.”

Malignar smiled. “You continue to impress me, Aveleos. Many other men would be weeping like a child who lost his mommy. But not you, my pet.” His hand tightened in Aveleos hair to hold his head still and he leaned down, running his tongue over Aveleos’ lips. The quick dart of that slick muscle made Aveleos’ eyes go wide, before he opened his mouth to allow it entrance. His brows came down dangerously.

Malignar retreated, however, and laughed breathlessly. “No, no, I am not stupid, my pet. I’d like to keep my tongue intact today.”

Aveleos grit his teeth at the rough tug on his hair that followed, before the hand let him go.

Now that his eyes were fully adjusted, he studied the other man as he walked away. He was no longer in shadow, and Aveleos saw he was in his customary armor, all the way up to his gorget. It left only the skin of his face bare. The two swords he carried were hanging in sheaths at his hips. Aveleos could almost make out Malignar retrieving something from the periphery of his vision. There was a rickety wood table that wasn’t there before, which appeared to have various things on it, though he couldn’t make out what they were. Malignar came back holding his chalice. He put his free hand behind Aveleos head and lifted, then held the cup to his lips. Aveleos balked, tightly holding his mouth closed, horrified.

Malignar tsk’d and said, “Drink up. It’s only water. I promise.”

That didn’t convince him. Who knew what foul things the Disciple usually put in his chalice?

Seeing how stubborn he was, Malignar hissed, “If you don’t drink, I’ve leave you to die of thirst, just to bring you back again, when I’ll punish you properly.”

Aveleos believed him. Why put himself through such torture? So he opened his mouth and took in a gulp of water. Tasting it, it seemed fine; clean enough to drink. Then his thirst got the better of him, and he drank greedily. Malignar paced him, but water still managed to dribble from his mouth. After the chalice was empty, Malignar lowered his head gently to the table and used a cloth to wipe his mouth up the drops of water which had spilled. Aveleos was too busy focusing inward to notice this, trying to discern if he felt any different. He felt fine, and even better since he was less thirsty. That was unexpected. He was so used to Malignar having an ulterior motive when doing anything, especially when it seemed like a favor or kindness. This time, however, that didn’t appear to be the case.

Aveleos watched again as Malignar went to retrieve something else. Metal clanked dully as Malignar returned, and Aveleos’ stomach sank. Heavy metal chains. They seemed a bit heavy for the Disciple of Khaine from the way he handled them. “It’s time you learned to behave while not being quite so tied up. Behave, and you will be rewarded. Disobey, and you will be punished. Simple as that,” Malignar explained as he hooked them to Aveleos’ wrist and ankle shackles.

Once complete he snapped a metal collar that was also connected by the chain around his neck. He then went to work undoing all the buckles strapping the other man to the table. Aveleos couldn’t believe his good luck. This was his chance. He would escape, and prove his innocence, and then come back here and kill—

His thoughts ended when, as he was finally free, Malignar had to yank him upright. His body felt sluggish and stiff. “How long have I been laying on there?” he asked his would-be master.

Malignar responded with a conversational tone. “Don’t worry, your body will quickly adjust once you get moving.”

Aveleos grunted in acknowledgement. Malignar steered him to stand by the table. Aveleos used this opportunity to look around. The room was small, and the door was in the 12 o’clock position from the stone table. In his vantage point next to the slab he’d previously been laying on, the wood table was in front of him. There was a ceremonial dagger, the chalice, stones of some sort, closed leather bags, and a small, mysterious black wooden chest. Malignar was prodding at his body and looking him over in a rather unsettlingly objective fashion, and Aveleos felt his face grow hot at the indignity of being treated like a piece of meat. When Malignar grabbed his arm, he yanked it out of his grip. Malignar gave him a steady, reprimanding look, commanding him to behave ‘or else’, but Aveleos didn’t back down. After staring at each other like that for what felt like quite too long, Malignar finally grabbed the chain leading to his collar and pulled, causing Aveleos to stumble after him. He used the ‘leash’ to guide him around the room. At first Aveleos stiffened, causing him to barely stumble along even at their slow pace. As it was, his body could hardly walk, and he ended up concentrating on not falling rather than resisting. After a few minutes of this, however, he found it easier and easier, felt his body returning to normal.

Once he was walking smoothly again, Malignar stopped and turned to Aveleos. Aveleos noticed he was a few inches taller than Malignar and definitely more buff. And yet Malignar was wearing full armor while he was completely naked. It would be hard to win with his fists, so he would have to grab one of Malignar’s swords. He waited for his chance, waited for the right angle to try it. Meanwhile, Malignar was speaking.

“You will do as I say, when I say it, understood?” Aveleos glared as a response, causing the Disciple to smile. “I’ll take that as a yes. First, put both arms straight up.” Warily, he stiffened, waiting for the reaction that would surely come when he didn’t respond. Malignar didn’t get angry like he expected; instead, he put a hand on the pommel of his sword in an obvious threat. “Would you like to feel what it’s like to die a slow agonizing death as I pull out your insides one by one?” he said, glowering at his captive.

Aveleos raised his arms, but still met Malignar with a challenging look. Malignar returned the look in kind. “What wonderful eyes,” Malignar mumbled. He gestured, and continued in a stronger voice, “Now stretch upwards, standing on your toes.”

Puzzled, Aveleos did as he said. It actually felt pretty good to stretch; he felt his spine pop, as he relaxed he let out a large, satisfied groan. He kept his arms up, however, and tried to act nonchalant at the way Malignar’s face had changed to a heated, sultry look. “Very good. Arms down. Now bend forward and touch your toes.”

That Aveleos would not do. He put his arms down and aaid firmly, “No.”

Malignar’s face immediately darkened. “Touch your toes,” he said, gritting out the words.

“No,” Aveleos said firmly, again.

“I have been patient with you. Quite patient. I see that my gentle treatment of you has pampered you for too long. Stand here.” He turned and walked to the wall where a rack hung, holding various sizes and shapes of whips, crops, and flogging devices. He grabbed a small but solid-looking wooden paddle and approached Aveleos with it held self-assuredly. Obviously he was quite used to the feeling of the handle, the way he was gripping it. He waved it at Aveleos’ and said, “Put your hands on the table and spread your legs.”

Aveleos just glared.

Malignar glowered at him and hissed, “You are just making this harder for yourself.”

“I don’t care,” Aveleos said. “I have lost everything but my pride. That you will not take from me.”

This seemed to greatly amuse Malignar. “Oh, you poor naïve thing. I will break you so completely that you will be nothing but a gibbering pile of flesh on the floor. Until that point, you will learn what it means to be possessed. When you realize how utterly mine you are, you will realize how futile all these little rebellious phases are. Now turn around, put your hands on the table, or I will force you to.”

“I care not for what you say. Do you really think you could win in a contest of battle prowess? I could beat you to a bloody pulp with my bare hands.”

Malignar’s eyes narrowed at the threat. “Of course you could. But I have Khaine on my side. That is more powerful than any muscle you have in your body. It is definitely time you learn your place, however.”

Malignar had put the tie hanging from the paddle around his wrist and now approached Aveleos with hands free. They pounced on one another, pushing and stumbling about. Malgnar managed to push him into the table, but even as fettered as he was Aveleos obviously had the upper hand in strength. He pushed back, sending Malignar flying. The Disciple barely got his footing under him. Aveleos continued to strain against the other man, keeping him down, and slowly but inexorably pushed him down onto his knees.

Snarling, Malignar pressed back with all his might, but it quickly became apparent he was no match. Seeing his chance, Aveleos used one arm to block Malignar from getting up and the other went for a sword at his hilt. He managed to tug it out halfway before Malignar gripped him arm like a vice and prevented him. They then began struggling over the sword. Then suddenly Malignar used his lower height and Aveleos’ nudity as his advantage, elbowing Aveleos right in the stomach. Aveleos saw sparks fly behind his eyes, and he lost his breath completely. He fell limply to the floor. Pain surged fiery-hot through his abdomen, surely more than it normally would.

When he became aware of something besides the pain, he realized he was still chained up and lying on his side on the floor. Malignar stood over him with the sword drawn, the pointed tip directed at his upturned face. “You wanted this, did you?” Malignar said, leaning down to grab Aveleos by the hair. Despite the captive’s cries of protest, he dragged Aveleos by the hair until he was facing the table. He then pulled up, inducing the Black Guard to stand. Aveleos struggled, his stomach still in a great deal of pain. He found himself clutching the table in an almost bent over position. His face burned in anger and shame, but he was defenseless.

“Does your body remember the killing blow?” Malignar whispered to him. “Worry not, one day it will forget. But not before you have memories of many more.” Malignar laughed a cruel laugh before putting the sword tip down on the floor and leaning it on the table. Within reach. “So, you want this blade do you? You think it will make a difference? Go ahead and grab it. I dare you. Let’s see how desperate you are, love.” Without any warning, Malignar flipped the paddle into his hand and brought it down, hard, on Aveleos’ backside.

Aveleos cried out in pain and surprise. His body automatically tried to get away, bringing him flat up against the table. He was still not ready for the next blow, which sent pain shooting down his legs and up his spine. “Stop!” he found himself shouting, but Malignar only laughed.

Aveleos had plenty of experience with this type of thing. As a young man, training to be a Black Guard, he’d been in trouble before; been punished before. Whips, paddles, anything his instructors could get their hands on. But yet, this was completely different. It was more painful than he ever remembered from his youth. It was wholly more undignified, and much less deserved. To his shame, he cried out again with the next blow, before he resolutely shut his mouth. The beating continued, however, until he could feel his ass going numb. After a few minutes, Malignar stopped to caress the red cheeks, making Aveleos buck at the touch. “Not going to protest, ‘no, no’, any longer? Hmm?” the Disciple said, smirking.

Aveleos remained silent. He wanted the pain to stop. His legs were about to give out, and he didn’t want to fall in front of Malignar. He couldn’t let him win. He also didn’t trust his voice to keep steady.

As Malignar caressed his ass, reminding the skin there of its pain, Aveleos thought he never hated anyone more.

His hate bubbled up in the form of words. “Are you quite done?” he said, scathing and angry. He flashed a defiant glare over his shoulder.

Malignar smiled back at him. “Apparently not.” The expression on his face was a look of sinister joy, brows drawn down and mouth grinning wide, as he brought up the wooden paddle yet again and began hitting Aveleos just as hard as he had before. Aveleos bit the inside of his cheek and smothered his mouth in his hands to keep from screaming. A pained grunt still escaped him with each blow, no matter how much he tried to choke it back. Then the paddle hit an especially sensitive spot, and he almost jumped onto the table, a whimper escaping him.

That whimper was the last straw. He couldn’t stand anymore. His body moved without him even making a conscious decision. His hand closed around the hilt of the sword. Malignar was faster, however. He had been reading Aveleos’ movements the entire time, waiting for this moment. He immediately brought the paddle down on a weak part of the wrist joint. There was a sickening crack, and Aveleos’ arm recoiled back, causing the sword to fall to the floor. Aveleos gasped at the pain, tears stinging his eyes, and cuddled his arm to his chest. His wrist was broken, and blood began to ooze out where the delicate bones broke the skin.

Malignar dropped the paddle and picked up his sword. He pushed Aveleos back down on the table. Reeling from pain, Aveleos almost didn’t notice the feeling of cold metal touching the cleft of his ass.”Oh, did you want this sword?” Aveleos heard himself groan in dismay as the cold metal pressed harder. “Well then, love, you can have it!” Malignar laughed cruelly and rubbed the pommel of the sword harshly against Aveleos’ tight hole. It was a carefully crafted sword with fine work detail all over the pointed hilt. As it pressed hard at his hole, Aveleos swore he could feel every one of those small sharp ridges. It was hard and cold and painful as Malignar maliciously thrust it against the tight ring of muscle. Aveleos grunted, hoping to god that it would not fit, that this was not happening.

Malignar spit into his gloved hand and used that to lube up the sword. He spit more onto the obstinate orifice and probed at it with his finger. That gave Aveleos a hint of pleasure and he gasped, before the pommel replaced it again. Malignar worked it patiently over and over again until suddenly the slick metal made it past the ring of muscle and thrust inside. To his shame, Aveleos screamed loudly, ending with a gasping sob. It hurt like a bitch. Underlying that was pleasure, somehow, and he gripped the table with his good hand like a life raft as he sobbed. Malignar dragged it out partially, making Aveleos’ thighs shake, and then thrust it back in roughly. Aveleos screamed again, this time following the sound with, “Please, stop!”

Malignar responded by repeating the action. “Oh god!” Aveleos screamed. He clutched the table beneath him and became completely oblivious to all else but the pain and humiliation. His backside already hurt from the paddle, and now inside was in pain, too. Maddeningly, the more Malignar thrust the ridged metal handle inside, over and over, the more pleasureable it started to feel. Avelso could feel blood running down his inner thighs. Ironically the blood was helping to ease the passage, for now. Each thrust opened the rips in his anus more, but it somehow felt good.

Aveleos didn’t realize he was making any sounds until Malignar leaned over and whispered to him. “Are you feeling good from a sword? What a slut.” Malignar hummed in approval and licked at a tear on Aveleos’ cheek. “You see, you deserve this treatment. Don’t you?” When he got no response, he thrust savagely, and Aveleos choked out, “Yes! Ahhh, fuck, yes.”

“Like it, love? Hmm?” he whispered as if he was speaking to a lover. Aveleos choked out a very similar response as to his last one.

“Admit that you are mine, and perhaps I will treat you nicely.”

“No… no,” Aveleos moaned. “Please, just stop.”

“There is no reason to resist. For you see, your pleasure brings me pleasure. Your pain brings me pleasure. It does not matter to me, either way. See?” With that he pressed his groin against Aveleos’ side and the dark elf could feel the hard length that was his arousal even beneath the leather armor. Malignar sighed into Aveleos’ ear as he thrust himself against the other. “You drive me wild, Aveleos,” Malignar mumbled and bit his ear, tugging lightly with his teeth. “Hhhnnn, ah,” was Aveleos’ only response.
“Admit it, and this will be pleasurable. Deny it, and I will take you forcefully in your already abused ass. Which shall it be?”

“I am not yours, and never will be yours!” Aveleos growled. His voice shook, but the reply came out strong nevertheless.

Malignar kissed his cheek and laughed low in his throat, amused. “Wonderful. You are the first man to take pain over pleasure. You are a stubborn one, which will make this all the more fun.” Malignar ripped the sword out and Aveleos screamed, sobbing, clutching the table weakly. His legs almost gave out, but Malignar grabbed his hips and pushed him more fully onto the table, enough that he could lay on it. His limp penis was now trapped against the table, bringing its own kind of pain, but it was so completely overshadowed by everything else he didn’t even protest.

Aveleos lay dazed on the table, listening to the sounds of leather creaking and metal clanking behind him. Then he felt something warm and wet touch his bleeding hole and he bucked automatically, sobbing.

“No stop, I don’t want this!” he cried out.

“Oh, but you disobeyed. This is what happens.” Malignar’s voice was strained now. He seemed to lose all control with his next hissed words. “Ohh, you drive me crazy!” He pressed the head of his cock against the entrance. He pushed inside with much difficulty, Aveleos writhing and crying out the entire time. When he was inside each breath came in gasps, competing with Aveleos’ whimpering.

“So tight,” he growled and began to move. “No!” Aveleos whimpered. He continued to chant “no” over and over as Malignar violated him over and over again. After a few minutes of slow thrusting Malignar angled up, and Aveleos’ cried out with pleasure. Aveleos’ hand moved automatically behind him, making Malignar stiffen, but all he did was grab at the Disciple’s hip. His fingers closed onto the leather and flesh there hard enough to bruise, if he had had a proper grip. Malignar thrust harder against that spot, enjoying the pleasure now creeping into Aveleos’ voice. Aveleos’ was in a position of wanton need, face against the metal table and eyes shut. Tears leaked out, but his moans and sighs contradicted the look of pain on his face. That look on the face of so haughty and noble a man drove Malignar over the edge quickly. He thrust harder and moaned ecstatically as he orgasmed, spilling his hot seed deep into Aveleos. Staying like that a moment, letting his orgasm subside, Malignar watched Aveleos’ face, which did not change. Aveleos flinched as he withdrew in a surprisingly gentle fashion. The Guard assumed it was because he was now soft, not because he was sparing Aveleos anything. The cum now filling his now non-virgin ass stung as it dribbled out, accompanied by blood.

Malignar took a moment to catch his breath before saying, “That is all the exercise you get for today. I expect more from you tomorrow.”

The metal door slamming shut and the locks closing kept Aveleos still, waiting for Khaine’s disciple to be far gone enough that he was not tempted to ask for relief. After the sounds faded away, he stayed, mesmerized by the pain his body was in. After awhile he finally and slowly pushed himself up and got onto the table, wincing whenever his movements ignited some pain or other. His broken wrist lay useless next to him as he lay flat on his stomach. The table was very uncomfortable, and he was left awake and alone with his pain for hours and hours. He forcefully kept doubt from creeping in, reminding himself he could get through pain; it was the pleasure that would corrupt him into Malignar’s pawn. He had to remain strong until he could escape.