natnat nathalie

“Die under your own terms, maybe, but I will not let you slip into oblivion easily. There are so many wonderful, horrible things I can do to make you spill those secrets, to make you bargain for a quick death. You’ll try to maintain your dignity as long as you can. I have no doubt that you’ll put up a valiant effort; you are quite strong, after all. However, you will inevitably break and curse your own stubbornness for not talking sooner.”

“And do you know the best part?” she asked, reaching down to slowly stroke my dick again, giving me another, slower lick. “The best part is, all you ever had to do was ask! I had such an enormous crush on you, back in high school! I'd have sucked you off gladly, any time you wanted! I'd have done so much more than that... I'd have done my makeup, and dressed up like a girl for you! I wasn't very good at it, yet, but I'd have done it for you, if you'd wanted me to. I'd even have given you my cherry, let you be the first one to fuck me in my ass—anything you wanted, I'd have done it, if only you'd asked! But you never did that, never gave me the choice. You and your friends decided to force me, instead. So now, you don't get a choice! You get that, Brianna? You belong to me, now, just how I used to belong to you! So, I'm going to go upstairs now; it wouldn't be safe for me to let you drive yet anyways, not until the drugs I gave you work their way fully out of your system. I'm going upstairs, and you can just stay down here and think about it. Think about how this is all happening to you just because you never had the courage and courtesy to ask! I'll be back in maybe an hour or so, once I'm ready to go again!” She paused, staring deeply into my eyes, then suddenly kissed me, deep and passionate, full on the lips! I was still trying to recover from my shock as she was walking out the door, closing it behind her.

After the third round of fights, the tournament was suspended until the next day, and everyone returned home. Sitting at the desk in Valon’s room, Noah was busy replicating the headband he got from Saimallah. He had already used alchemy to create an exact replica, including the engraved runes, and was now applying a suitable ink. As he worked, he scrutinized the formula repeatedly, making sure it did what it was supposed to. For all he knew, putting it on could brand him with a curse. In his long years across the multiverse, he had learned to always look a gift horse in the mouth. Reading the formula was like reading a contract, and he had to be wary of fine print.