Now, karrell, you will listen and follow My EVERY instruction. Make SURE that you do everything as I tell you or you will regret your insubordination.
The mellow voice spoke in a whisper. Karrell was bound to a table of some sort and, though she was not blindfolded, she could still not see her captor. He stood behind her right shoulder, just out of her peripheral vision. She could smell the man though. A warm, musky scent of leather and horse teased her nostrils, which flared in⦠fear. Yes, for the first time in her life, Karrell feared a human.
Karrellās clan had never feared anything. They were a hardy bunch, living on the outskirts of Delbach Kiltainy, known by locals as the Kitty Swamp. No one knew whoād named the place, only that the werecat clans lived in and around it, and that it was at best a good place to avoid. Built as humans, the werecats (though their name would say otherwise) did not shape change. The only āleftoversā from their heritage were their eyes, teeth and tongues. Large, slitted pupils in yellow, green, or blue eyes dominated the face. If you were able to get a werecat to open their mouth for you, (not an easy feat, for most humans only got near one of them if they were either dinner or someone the catlike people trusted, which was even more rare), you would see a coarse tongue, from when they were still furry, and very sharp teeth, the canines (or felines in this case) of which were longer than the rest. Those very teeth had struck the bravest men dumb with fear; a mouthful of which could rend to shreds mere human flesh in moments. Most cats didnāt savor the taste of humans, though folks used threats of the werecats to scare children into wary sleep at night. āNow Johnny, yeād best be getting right to sleep, for the werecats come and take all the children that arenāt to sleep by the moonrise!ā Mostly they fed on the birds and greatlizards of the swamps, using the feathers and hides to cover their now-bare skin and to trade for items they wished from a few select humans whom they deigned to meet with.
you arenāt listening, karrell.
CRACK!
Karrell startled out of her reverie with a subconscious hiss, her bright green eyes darting toward the noise. From the corner of her eye, she could see the thin whip settle to the ground; a spent snake. She hissed again and tried to pull away as the butt of the whip was trailed gently down the side of her face. A low chuckle chilled her to the marrow of her bones and she stilled, her throat dry.
Iāve always wanted a cat, a pretty feline for My menagerie.
The voice continued, low and husky in her ear. A large, warm palm rested on her cheek.
Now, I have paid highly for you, my dear, and have been told you have much spirit.
The voice had an odd accent, one that she couldnāt place.
Now, listen carefully, My little cat. I am going to unbind your hands, but know that your feet will stay bound for the time being, and if you insist on hissing at me, I will whip you until you have no breath to do so again.
The whip flicked up next to her, an eager serpent waiting to taste her smooth skin and she shuddered, murmuring her assent. She felt the man fumble with her bindings and suddenly her arms were free. She brought them to her sides, noticing that, although her arms had been tied, there were no marks on the delicate flesh.
āso this Master is careful with His toysā
she thought, and then wiped the thought quickly from her mind. No human was her master, and no werecats had ever wanted to be. They were a lazy bunch, the male werecats, but they were good for watching after the litters while the females went hunting. She was so used to being in control that the thought of being at the utter mercy of this⦠this human made the bile rise to the back of her throat.
Now, little one, take off that damnable tunic or I will whip it off you
he said quietly, the tone of his voice brooking no argument. She grasped the bottom of the tunic and pulled it off over her head quickly. Her skin prickled in the cold, darkened room, the candlelight playing over her skin in softly undulating patterns as a stray breeze tickled the flames. He took the tunic from her, tossing it carelessly onto the floor, the greatlizard hide hitting the stone with a dull slap. The man walked around to her side, his boots making a barely audible tick against the cold stone. He leaned over her, and for the first time she saw her buyer. Piercing blue eyes stabbed at her from behind a black leather mask, the featureless hide seeming to draw the candlelight into it. He wore a sleeveless tunic of the same black leather, his golden arms muscular. One hand reached over to rest against her left breast.
Ahh, little one, I feel your heart pounding. Do you relish the thought of being My slave or perhaps fear it?
The voice chuckled lowly, those blue eyes holding her gaze. She did not speak, refusing to put to words the fear that caused her very soul to quake in rage as being treated as such. The blue eyes narrowed and one hand whipped up to grab her chin in its grip, holding her head still. He lowered his face to hers, scant inches separating them.
I will make you beg for Me, karrell. you will want nothing else but for Me to violate you in as many ways as Iām capable of, and believe Me. I know MANY.
In any other situation, Karrell would have laughed at that promise, but paired with the look in the manās liquid gaze, she knew instinctively that this was no idle boast. She knew he spoke nothing but the truth, neither belittling nor embellishing it. She found her voice, and asked, āWhat is it you want a slave for? Can you not get a human woman to sate your cravings? Are you so ugly behind that mask that no human woman wants you?ā The hand on her breast reared back and smacked her across her cheek, whipping her head to the side, her black hair pricking her eyes as it flew across her face.
Perhaps you didnāt understand Me, bitch. I
own
you. you belong to Me. you will not speak to Me again unless I give you leave to speak
.