The Hollow Part Two: Education (Mature)

[Stare]

Sequel to the Hollow Part One. Content is very mature, with sexual explicit material.

Part One link.

Two weeks since her incarceration and Avis was still not accepting of the situation. There was no willingness in her to partake in the sexual pleasures of the man she was forced to call 'master'. Nothing that he could say or do could persuade her heart to one time have a peaceful night with him. He was a man of ropes and binds, and that, she was told, would always remain - it was, after all, the style of the Hollow - yet fighting and cursing him was another part. Three times more in those two weeks had he beaten her back. Four times had he taken her on the bed. Once she had tried to run, and she had spent two days and nights wrapped in the bonds, without food. He had threatened a week before, but his lust for her flesh had weakened his stance, and six hours of pain and unconsented intercourse had been her final punishment.

The one thing that had happened, however, was that she had begun to respond to the name they gave her. Stare. It was a name that was for her surrounded in history. She had not been amused when they had told it to her, but the same memories of the many previous times it had been thrown around by the other members of the kegareta - the kenku outcasts who lived outside of the protection of the law - and used as a teasing name. As time had gone on, those children of thieves and killers had begun to use it more commonly, and so thus to some she had just become known as that. Stare. All to do with the way her eyes could pierce a man's soul, understand his deepest desires.

So the tales went. Really, she was simply excellent at letting her eyes portray her hatred and scorn and disgust; something that having a large beak take up most of your face disallowed the usual recognised expressions. Kenku, after all, conferred their feelings through body language, communal grooming, however backwards and uncivilised that sounded to some, and soft noises. Clicking on the inside of your beak could make a myriad of different sounds, and could communicate anything from distaste to anger to lust. Avis usually used it here to meant the former. It was all she had kept, really, of her richly feudal culture.

The day was a warm one, apparently. So had her porter told her as he brought in her meal. He was a kindly man, as kindly as the people here got. His name was Jared, and he was an elf from the northern Raiearan mountains. He had come to Beinost a pauper, and after looking for a job had somehow gotten himself into one of the Hollow's Brothers' (or 'hosts' as Vitruvion liked to call them) outside work. That had eventually led him to here where they had discovered he was an excellent cook. And after that ... Well. At least Avis was not underfed, not ever given poor quality food. According to Vitruvion if there was one thing he would do, it was to make certain his girls were healthy.

Right now Avis was making her way slowly through a large pork steak and a side of roasted vegetables. She had her legs drawn up underneath her. The thin one foot of chain, that permanently was fixed around her legs in her room when she was alone, dangled lightly to the floor. She sat on the now second chair in the room, for Vitruvion had decided he might one day wish to dine with her, resting her elbow on the table. She had been alone for most of the last two days, apart from Jared's visit, and she was beginning to like it. She enjoyed being lost in her own thoughts, planning her next revenge, and letting her eyes wander over the vast tapestries on her room's walls. It was a good time, a peaceful time, and would only have been better had she been allowed paper and a quill.

When she was half way through a rather large chunk of meat she heard the lock of the door begin it's familiar scrape. Quite alarmed, for Jared usually gave her far longer than this to finish her food, Avis prepared to stand and fend off whatever brutality was coming her way now. Tensing at that thought, and groaning because she was only part the way through her food, she prepared to do what was needed to protect herself.

[Stare]

Unexpectedly, however, was the face that appeared at the door. It was a young red haired female elf, beaming and entirely unbound. She wore hardly anything, just a thin scrap of a shirt that barely covered her breasts and behind. Behind her loitered two huge burly men, one the giant Avis had had that run-in the first time Vitruvion had taken her on the bed, and they carried large staffs - but they seemed to not be in any worry. Instead they were casual, leaning on their weapons and completely relaxed.

The red head stepped right in, smile (if it were possible) growing as she saw the very startled Avis, fork still halfway to her beak. Then the new woman took another step, tipped her head over her shoulder and winked at her companions.

"Thank you, boys. I think we'll be fine. I'll knock if I need anything."

The two giants seemed to blush under her gaze and one of them even had red rise to his cheeks - but very quickly they closed the door, and the lock screeched shut again.

There was a clunk as Avis' fork fell to her plate.

"Can I ... Help you?" She said, gazing at the, now she realised, very pretty girl, before her.

The red-head's sparkled as she nodded, her mass of twisting locks bounding as she did so. "Of course you can my darling," she cooed, starting to almost bound in joy over. "For we are sisters, really now." She extended her hands and Avis immediately recoiled in, not sure what was going to happen. The red head continued. "I am Blaze," she stopped before her, "Vitruvion's first."

Realisation flooded into Avis. Her eyes widened, knowledge amassing that here stood before her was one of Vitruvion's other 'guests'. And not only that, but here was a woman Ventrua had said had been with him for two whole years, his other unshared sexual fantasy, his other personal whore.

"Oh," Avis blinked a great many times, breathing out fast as she scrambled to her feet. One of her feet slipped a little fast, catching on her hobble chain. She had to catch herself on the table before she could properly acknowledge the girl before her.

Blaze seemed to barely register her stumble.

"I thought I should introduce myself. Finally. After all I've heard so much about you from Ventrua and Raevin that it felt strange not having met you yet." She stuck out a hand.

Avis felt overwhelmed at the fact Blaze was not having any negitive reaction to her looks. Glancing down at the hand she uneasily stretched out her own hardened skin one, claws in completion and took up the gesture.

"Right ..." She said slowly. "Uh ... Hi I guess. I'm Avis."

Blaze paused. "I will pretend I did not hear that."

Avis removed her hand and made a small disgruntled noise in her beak. "Sure. You never did."

The red-haired girl took a moment and then brought the smile to her face again. "Well it is lovely to meet you anyway."

Avis looked at her a while, her great black eyes blinking slowly. She looked the girl briefly up and down, taking note of the certainty of the lack of bonds. She also saw that the shirt was indeed very revealing, with the buttons done just to the point where her nipples were hidden. Close to naked, but not.

"Sure," Avis murmured, looking back up into her eyes. "Do you always dress like that? Don't you get cold?"

Avis for one, was a kenku, and that meant, even in her most nude of forms - like she had been the entire time she had been here - she had a warm layer of feathers covering her from head to ankle.

Blaze shrugged a little, "It can get cold, but if I ask usually it's fine that put on more."

"You have to ask to put on clothes?" Avis almost spluttered as a grunting chuckle note came from her.

"The easiest way around Vitruvion is asking him if it is okay to do things. As long as it is small, can be altered later or not what is on his mind at the time, he usually says yes." She seemed somewhat annoyed at Avis' laugh, but only let it show in her tone of voice.

"So asking to be free is out of the question," Avis growled in her undergone voice, and looked at Blaze once in the eyes. The elf girl just kept smiling. Heavily, the kenku sighed. "I guess you're staying here then to talk. There's a spare chair around the other side of the bed."

Pausing for the slightest of moments Avis collapsed back into her chair, pushing the food tray away. From her basic understanding of etiquette she knew it was rude to eat in front of someone. Not that she truly desired company right now, but Blaze seemed already the sort of person who would not leave her alone.

[Stare]

Before she went to fetch the chair, Blaze waited a moment, and then nodded before moving off. "Sure. I'll get my own seat, even though you're the host." The comment made Avis actually surprised, then she relaxed slightly. Finally she had found some spite in Blaze. Perhaps this meeting would not go as terrible after all.

"You're the one with literal leg room," Avis said after her.

"I'm not the one who is being belligerent to his face."

Avis held back another chuckle as Blaze returned. The elf girl was no longer smiling, but neither was there a fakeness in her eyes. Before the beams had seemed practised, overly polite ... Strained almost, and now Avis felt she was seeing more of the honest elf's character.

Blaze settled opposite her. Her huge breasts buldged.

"If I'm belligerent it's because I hate him," Avis answered as she sat down. "I also tried to escape again last week."

"Ah never do that. He hates that," Blaze told her.

"Yeah, I kind of figured that out."

After a moment's breath, Avis knew that Blaze was intending on being there for a while, so she took up her previous position, awkwardly tucking her legs back underneath her. Her short thighs and then high ankles that formed the natural backwards facing illusion of her legs seemed to confuse Blaze for a second. Avis blinked and then smiled with her eyes.

"I'm guessing you've beevr seen a kenku either."

Blaze shook her head, looking up to her. "And before Reign I had never seen a pixie. Technically I'm a rarity also."

"Oh?"

The red head nodded. "I'm from an ancient line of light skin high elves who merged with the bloodline of an old Fae community. We call ourselves the Ellenin, though our blood is so mixed now with that of the major elf races that ... Well."

"It thinned?"

Blaze nodded. "Exactly." She took another moment. "Really I came here today to greet you and give you whatever advice I can."

With a glance to the door, Avis though
ht about what she wanted to know and what she could ask. What advice she wanted - like, how to get out of there - though, was likely beyond Blaze's know.

"How have you survived here for two years?" Avis asked her.

Blaze looked at her carefully for a moment. "By being wise. By keeping my independence at the same time as doing as Vitruvion asked. We have developed a good relationship, he and I, over the months. As good as it can be anyway. I remain level-headed and he treats me well."

Avis stared. "You mean he never beats you? He never uses those," she waved a hand at the room beyond the door, "Things on you. He never forces himself on you?"

Fixing her with a flat stare Blaze pursed her lips. "This conversation has gotten a little out of hand."

"You came here, I didn't come to you."

The elf-girl continued to look at her that same way. "I came to offer advice after I heard from Raevin what Vitruvion was doing to you. I came to be kind."

Avis laughed hollowly. "Nobody here is kind."

Blaze looked right at her. "Perhaps you are not allowing them to be."

The kenku stared right back at the Ellenin. Her heart thumped in her chest, trying to work this girl out. What exactly Blaze wanted was unclear - did she want out of this place, or was she satisfied with it? Her attitude was confusing, between calm and collected and rough and brutal. Still, what she was saying was true: Blaze was trying to make friends, and Avis was resisting.

The kenku finally looked away, a minor amount of guilt resting there that threatened to grow.

"Call it my 'issue' if you want, but I've never been good at making friends."

"Then maybe you should start."

[Stare]

Clicking her tongue on the side of her beak, Avis grumbled for a moment under her breath. As silence endured, she glanced back to Blaze to find the other girl waiting patiently for a reply.

Avis sighed. "I'm not very apt at such a thing. I lost the last of my family members two years ago. I've been alone mostly ever since. The only person who showed me kindness was a dwarf baker."

Blaze raised her brows. "A dwarf ... Baker?"

The kenku simply nodded. "Yes. I bake. He bakes. He is good."

"Are you ... Good?"

"My mother taught me," she shrugged in reply. "I was learning more from Skra before Raevin took me."

Slowly Blaze nodded, smiling at her. "I was found by Raevin as well. Apparently the elf found me arguing with a man who had tried to rape me, and thought I would do well here." She rolled her eyes slightly. "Raevin has the belief that one day I will end up like Hope and then he will be able to get his hands on my body for his own pleasures. I have told him rather sternly it will never happen."

There was a pause, as Avis felt suddenly confused and intrigued. "Vitruvion mentioned her, that she disappointed him or something."

With a small look of distaste, Blaze uneasily stroked a hand through her hair. "Hope failed. She became weak. She ... Submitted. Entirely, and thus became no longer of interest to Vitruvion. There was no fight left in her. It's what happens to some of us eventually. The others ..." She looked at the floor, and for the first time in the conversation Avis saw the elf's confidence waver, "We die. But better that than lose our fight. It is what they want from us. It is what will keep us here, at the top of the Hollow."

Avis narrowed her eyes, her heart thumping. She did not truly want to know, and she also had a horrible idea of the answer she was going to give, but the question had been left open. It had been left unresolved. And the idea, the notion of those who had suffered and had given up had a worse fate ...

"What happens?" She murmured.

"They get given to the lesser men," Blaze said with a sigh, a moan. "They get given to the lackeys, the servants and the ones who live to serve the Brothers, with no rules, and no protection, and they are never allowed to resurface.

They are never seen again."

[Stare]

With the beginnings of an acquaintance, if not a friendship, begun, Avis felt the days get somewhat easier. Advised, as she had been, to not give up the fight, Avis became even more determined. Though Blaze had also hinted at caution - the obeying of orders whilst keeping your attitude - Avis continued to strive to find a way out of the Hollow. The next two days brought more peace, with no Vitruvion and a brief visit from Ventrua, simply to see if Avis' fetters were chafing or not. Raevin also arrived, and, with reluctant loop of metal around her neck, allowed Avis some exercise to stride the rooms and corridors of Vitruvion's halls. She was allowed to see more of the long corridor, and was shown where Blaze and Reign lived. Avis was surprised to see her rooms were just as grand as the longer residents.

It was on the third day after meeting with Blaze, and Avis was enjoying a long bath, relaxing in the warm water. She had discovered that her bath was filled by an ingenious pumping design which was built into the wall, coming out of a small copper tap in the wall. Apparently a room that backed onto it was an engineering room, that kept both the airflow of the underground construction going, and provided water for the many bathrooms.

Avis waited until the bath was full and then slammed on the wall. Within a few seconds the trickle of water into the copper tub ended, along with a quiet hrrummm of noise. Pausing, she tested the water with a finger before slipping inside, letting her feathers soak, her body rested deep underneath the pool. She rested her hard-skinned hands over the sides of the bath, basking in the warmth and silence that she felt.

It was peaceful there, in her own thoughts and her own time. Though the constraints upon her ankles were a constant reminder of her imprisonment, she was at least given the time to relax. Thus she was taking it now, taking it for granted and the lush opportunity it offered. The time was hers, it was to be loved, it was to be enjoyed.

Her body sank beneath the waves, and she breathed deep through the nostrils on her beak, taking in the hot steamy air. Letting her eyes close she sank into a relaxed state as the minutes slipped into the hour.

Going by so gradually and so wanted.

Yet good things never last. And her four days of wonder could not be.

With a start she opened her eyes as she heard the sudden sound of the stone door being wrenched open. The rocky material scraped over the tiled floor of her bedroom, spilling the brighter light of the larger room into her quiet world. Her head was lolling in the water that was still warm, but not as gloriously hot as before, and she was feeling drowsy from it. Yet, the sound and the suddeness startled her into alertness, and she froze when she saw a face appear in the angry crack of the loud door.

One look. One hiss and growl. A streak of blonde hair, the curve of the perfect chest.

[Stare]

Roughly, the face turned from the thin gap that had been revealed and a haunting voice began to shout. "Get her fucking out of there. Now!"

Avis did a quick intake of breath as the voice of Vitruvion confirmed the fine featured identity. Silently she cursed her luck; just when she had been at the point of her relaxation he had to come back. She remained there for a moment, inwardly groaning that he had interrupted her when the door was forced open more. Men began to appear, faces. Wide eyes. Staring. First Bertran, then behind him her familiar giant. And an elf poking his eye around the door post.

"Do you mind?" She hissed. "I'm in the bloody bath?"

"I said 'get her out'!" Vitruvion yelled.

With a surge of energy, powered by their master's voice, the men began to come forward. Hands reached out, aiming to handfully drag her, soaking, from the water, and probably dry her in a harsh and brutal way.

"Oh no you don't!" She sat up suddenly, staring at them with her darkest of looks. As her black eyes narrowed the three front men - Bertran, the giant and the elf - seemed to freeze under her gaze. It was a gaze of such direst hate and horror that they became trapped, between wanting to touch her, obeying their master's order, and also respecting her privacy.

"What is taking so long?"

Avis felt a rage boiling inside of her. With a mighty splash of water she stood up, the droplets falling from her beautiful long feathers in rivulets and streams, flowing like the perfect meander. There she stood, naked as the day she was born and had been since she had been here, but covered with the feathers of her people to hide the embarrassed nakedness of a fleshy human.

"I am not having your men come in here and drag me from my bath, not when they have no idea how to even dry my coat!" She screamed back, pure fury within her. "You want my feathers fair? You want me comfortable, then tell them to leave and let me dry my bloody self!"

The men stood still, shocked into silence. At first it had been the anger in her eyes, now it was the venom in her voice. Vitruvion was angry, that was plain to see, and though it did not bode well for her she was not going to let his foul mood cause her extra pain, discomfort as the men dislodged feathers, brushed them the wrong way etc.

There was an ugly, brutal silence.

"Well?" She barked, moving her hand through her head plumage, combing them out. "Can you give me even that?"

Clack. Clack. Clack. He paced like a mad man.

"A deal then, bitch. You get to dry yourself, but then you come willingly when you are done. No stumbling, no arguing, none of the delays that you love so much to put me through. You will obey me."

"I wilk never be yours," she shouted back.

"Do we have a deal?!"

Her heart thumped. A deal. Giving up her night of freedom, of fighting and cursing in order to dry herself this time. It seemed a poor compromise for a single favour and his planning for the night. Which, after four days and in his mood she knew could not be favourable.

"That's ... That's a lot."

"You will come willingly," his voice spat. "That or I shall have my men rub sandpaper over your body to dry you, and after I am done with you tonight I will give you to them as a passion prize worthy of a prince."

[Stare]

Her eyes glanced down to the men on the other side of the bath tub. Lips parted and looks were exchanged as the very thought seemed to run through them like a passion of delight. Looking to one another they shared the joy and Avis began to see the lust within them. Swallowing, she tried to understand if this was just a ruse. It was against standard rules, after all, as far as her conversations with Blaze had told her, for an underling to a brother. As far as Avis was concerned. But the actual gift of one night, by a master to a lackey ... One night, one dark night ... Avis did not know.

And would Vitruvion actually do such a thing? It was a horror to consider. The sandpaper part - she could almost see him agreeing upon. However, when he had found out that Raevin had jntiay touched her he had been enraged. Avis' chest rose and fell with anxiety as she tried to understand if Vitruvion was merely bribing her, or if he was truly meaning it. If he was the latter, then he had to be very angry indeed, as he had that one first night when she had experienced the rage that lay within the half-celestial. What fury, what power could lie within someone so apparently born of an angel baffled Avis, it properly made her wonder what was going on here ...

Then his face came into view once more. Clink, clink, and he was framed in the doorway of dim light behind the three stunned men. And his face - it was a contorted mess, a thing of terrror to behold. Eyes, black as the night, black as Avis darkest feathers, started at her with unfathomable rage residing within. Heavily, her heart sank and in that moment she suddenly knew that he was not lying, that he was not faking, not exaggerating. That everything he had said had been perfect truth and he was willing to let his men take her. All, at once.

Her voice became stuck in her throat. Eyes becoming softer, less powerful, she felt herself look away as she dared to give up. Heart sinking, she realised that Vitruvion's path was the lesser of two evils, the better of two hellish outcomes.

"Fuck," she whispered to herself. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Still with the darkness raging within, Vitruvion turned his back, a sneer forming on his lips. With a gesture of his cane he ordered his men out, and they sheepishly, and disappointedy followed.

Leaving Avis to her fated decision.

"Fifteen minutes," the half celestial said. "Then you will be ready and done."

She looked back up to him with maddened eyes, and met those that were equally maddened back. Both cheats heaved. Both hearts beat.

"You break this deal at any point and I will give you to them straight away. I promise. Like a bitch given to dogs."

What was better? To be at the mercy of tens of hungry men at once, or to give oneself over to a singular? On one side there would be rape. There would be horror, there would be at least one night of being reduced to nothing. And on the other side there would be pain. And there would be terror, but it would be for one man, who would leave her alone at the end, who would send his sister, in the morning to heal her broken body. Vitruvion would be cruel, she knew, but his promise to look after had, for the past few days, proved to be true. All she had to do was this one night in a few. This one night ...

"Fifteen minutes," she agreed, finally in a low voice, turning and reaching for a towel.

Vitruvion looked at her for a moment longer, then he was gone and the stone door closed.

"Fuck," Avis whispered as she began to massage the damp from her feathers. "Has it really come to this?"

[Stare]

After her best estimate to fifteen minutes had past, Avis dragged in a long breath through her beak. She told herself to stay strong, to stay herself. What Blaze had said - to remain independent at the same time as doing what he advised, to be wise - the thoughts flooded around her head. Gulping in slower breaths she tried to remind herself who she was, and why she was doing this. Perhaps she was allowing Vitruvion to bribe her, perhaps she was giving in to his threats, yet she knew what he was. She knew what he was capable of. She knew just how this could get worse.

"Stare?"

The voice. The call. The command. It was a voice rich in control and power. A voice with a line of warning.

Now. She had to go now.

Going to the door, she pressed her hand against it, careful to keep her steps small to keep up with her fetters. With a quick prayer to the spirit gods of her people, the Kami, Avis paused just long enough for a second to slip by before she pushed the door opened. Just as a second, warning, "Stare?" Slipped from between his lips.

"Yeah, I'm here," she replied, moving into the room. Her room, with the bed and the men. Five of them were there, including those who had come into her bathroom. They circled around the room roughly, at their centre a sixth man, fashionably dressed, of perfect skin and fine form.

His eyes were on hers, still filled with the fury of the day's struggles, but calmer than before. The fire had faded enough.

With strength she gazed right back at him. Her claws lightly clacked on the tiled floor as she moved her way out of the bathroom. She tried to ignore the uneasy lackeys, who were ready to attend at any point that the deal was broken.

Slowly Vitruvion nodded, not smiling but not frowning either. He watched her as she slowly came to a halt two metres away, not wanting to be near him but knowing she could not be far for long.

A tongue slowly moved across his lips. "Good." He spoke in a haunting, silky voice. "Slightly delayed, but you will get better at that."

"Maybe," she instinctively replied. "Or maybe not."

"I would advise the former," he answered, finally moving out of his tense stance. He raised his chin slightly and rolled back his shoulders.

She lifted her chin also, gazing back with the same intensity.

Slowly, despite the rage, Vitruvion gave the smallest of smirks. He gestured and one of the men that Avis did not have a name for as yet came forwards. He had a half ear and she vaguely recognised him from before. Half-man did not go to Vitruvion's side. Instead he turned his path to head straight for Avis, and as he did so he raised his hands. There was a shimmer, a small glinting, and as he came closer Avis felt sickened to see a pair of finely embellished, expertly made and etched shining steel manacles, joined together by a short chain, complete with golden filigree.

Her eyes immediately went to Vitruvion, narrowing.

"They're a gift," he shrugged. "One host to his guest."

"I really don't want any presents," she said in a quiet, pensive voice.

Vitruvion sucked in his breath quickly, in such a way that Avis immediately felt on edge. Eyes like daggers, she knew that this was all part of the evening, his plans.

"I have a meeting with the other brothers in half an hour," he said with a snap to his voice. "I came here to very quickly fuck you, Stare, and then leave, but you caused me to wait. Now we have our bargain for the evening, I will have you accompany me to this meeting, where you will be as silent as the grave. You will come as my guest, as my symbol of status, and all will see that you are loyal to me, no-one else, alright?!"

Avis felt the anger in his words. Clearly something had happened that day to make him feel another who was traditionally loyal to him was not seeking so anymore. Her mind jumped to Blaze, but after their words Avis couldn't think that Blaze would deliberately anger Vitruvion in such a way. Else, others could have been Raevin or the other underlings. Touching Blaze or the other one, Reign. Suggesting something where there should be none. The fury of the half-celestial was fast becoming legend.

"Well?" He asked, incredulous.

Avis breathed in slowly, knowing exactly what the question was. Pressing hard the edges of her beak together she felt disgust for herself grow from the acid pit in her stomach, before she extended her wrists out willingly, right in front of her and towards hslf-ear.

For a moment she stood there, absolutely hating herself. Then a cool voice whispered.

"No. Put them on yourself."

Instantly she recoiled, letting out a chatter of irritated Avian.

"Stare! This night I want this. I want you to prove that you can follow orders. Now do it!"

[Stare]

His threats of earlier hung over her like a naked sword. The man before her seemed of two minds - one of them wanted her to take the beautiful manacles and place them onto herself. For her own good. But there was also a hesitancy. Bidding her not to. So he could be one of the ones to have her.

Cursing herself in the name of the Kami, Avis made the movement. Hands working fast she picked up the ornate, but disgusting pieces of metal. As she slipped the first ring of metal over her first wrist, she noticed they fit perfectly. They were also joined by the shortest of chains - five links at most. With the smoothest of actions possible in the circumstances, she fixed the second loop over her other wrist, then pressed it closed, the soft 'clunk' of the lock drawing home.

Her eyes stared at what she had done, in horror. Hardly could she believe it. A lump in her throat she glared at her handiwork, until other hands glided into view. Perfect and pale, they slid over the manacles, checking their locks and even pinching one more tightly closed.

Avis' jaw set. What the fuck had she just done?

A soft and confident voice. "Good. You see it can be easier."

She shifted slightly as his hands moved. Tearing her look away from her cuffs on her wrists she glared at the bed. Vitruvion moved around her.

"Bertran," he said, simply, but she didn't see what he gestured for the man to do. Instead she just stayed still, detesting herself all the more.

Figures moved around her, and Vitruvion seemed to relax somewhat, his anger disappating, slowly. Perhaps if this was the way, he would ease his pain dealt this night. Possibly. As feet moved and bodies whirled, Avis felt her eyes wandering, looking nowhere in particular but catching sight of images in the tapestries. Her hands fell to rest in front of her and she felt thin but soft ropes beginning to weave around her torso.

Not too tight, but stable, secure. Intricate knots of perceptible art.

With a soft sigh she saw the manacles being released from her ankles. At least that was a blessing. The hobble had made her irritated and uncomfortable over the days. Easing her legs apart she stretched her feet and claws, tapping on the floor tiles.

Minutes past and she let the men twist their patterns into the ropes around her. She only hissed when they pulled it too roughly, snapping her beak close to an ear, grazing the soft skin. The man gasped with wide eyes, and Avis did not look back, twisting her neck to stare at the other men weaving, warning them.

All of them.

A low laugh came through, one that sent a shiver up your spine because of its chilling handsomeness. Cold, yet warm. Soft, yet harsh. Eerie, yet charming. Exotically charming.

A hand on her shoulder. A hand she uneasily tried to shrug off with a shift of her muscles. But it remained, gripping tighter as he moved to her side. His height compared to hers was distinctive, well over a foot, but somehow he made it work, pulling her with his strong hand to stumble into his side. Furiously, she looked down at her body, the mesh of her torso wrapped in the spiderweb of beautiful knotwork. It had been improved upon this time, and mostly seemed to be tied for design more than anything. Only her upper arms were constrained to her sides.

"That's my girl," he whispered, words pronounced and heavily richened in flavour. "This is how we work together. Remain like this and you will go far. You will last long."

[Stare]

"You threatened me," she hissed, as the rest of the men began to filter away.

"If that's what it takes, then I will threaten you every day," he murmured back voice still sweet. His grip upon her shoulder tightened - painfully so. "With your dignity, with your freedoms, with your life. You are mine, Stare, and there is nothing you can do to change that now."

Her neck arched slightly, proudly and defiantly and she did not reply for a while. Instead she gazed around the room, watching the men as they looked at the two of them, supposed master and subjugate, a pair of oddities within the room of rest and intercourse.

"You are a heartless bastard, you know that?" She finally answered, and like him she kept her voice low, her mouth barely moving. For they were in a display now, a show, and it was him and her acting out the roles of the hero and his conquest.

"And you are my arrogant bitch," his hand slid to the nape of her neck, catching her there briefly so his fingernails dug into the soft flesh and she shivered in horrible stress. "So we make quite the pair, don't we?"

Her eyes flickered up to him, and he smirked slightly as he caught her gaze. Though her hate was plain to see he did not falter, nor fade underneath as the men had done in the bathroom, instead he held on. His eyes glistened, remarks of the previous anger having apparently gone and now he was still, malcious but joyful.

Steadily he used the pressure of his hand on her upper spine to push her forwards. She used the stumble to turn it into a graceful step, not quite willing, in this day, to be seen as an undercut. Eyes blazing with fierce darkness she stiffly let him guide her, giving as much resistant as she dared, his fingers dangerously close to pinching the nape of her neck once more.

"Good," he remarked, in the same quiet tones, "Now follow me thus all night and this will be easier than you know. I don't want to have to parade you around my colleagues with a collar."

"Not wanting to flaunt your 'possessions'?" She muttered, accusingly.

"Not in public, no," Vitruvion waved and the front door of her bedroom was opened. "It is not my way. It is others, but it is not my way. I will only ever use the collar on you if I need to."

He continued out, his hand remaining rested on her neck, the other holding his cane. It tapped, clink-clack, on the ground beside her claws that clunk-clicked, as he moved her from the room into the next. When they got to that one she faltered in her step a little, siezing as she saw some of the crueler devices. At her momentary relapse his fingers clenched, fingernails digging in once more to her skin, and she hissed right at him.

"No more noise, my girl," he told her, "No more of your tongue. At least for now, for this meeting you will remain silent, because it is what I want."

Her mind thought about what he was taking her to, the constructed meeting. About the men who would be sitting there, the prizes they might flaunt, as Vitruvion was clearly flaunting her as his. The words, the voices, the drama and elaboration, if Vitruvion was anything to go by ... She imagined it all and it felt sickening to her stomach simply thinking about it.

"You understand?" He hissed like a snake close to her ear.

His fingers squeezed. Avis bit back a shriek. "Whatever," she muttered as a response. Another moment of tension. Pain. Bitterness. "Fine," she answered, bitterly. "Fine. Yes. I won't make a noise."