Viktoff Samson
Supernova
- Joined
- May 16, 2016
- Location
- Maine
The elf toy in his grip would not give up as easily as his he had thought. Each limb of the dainty little thing had made some attempt to strike at his hard body while his blue eyes searched hers. He could feel her body's ever increasing effort to keep breathing, her fragile form smushed between his and the wall. After her full-force strike against his hard leather, nothing had appeared to had happen. At least, nothing her other tiny attacks didn't do. His lips curled upwards as he could almost taste that growing dread in her body. Each ounce of pleasure that had surged into his blood stream would force his hand around her throat to cut off her breathing more and more. Savoring the delicacy of her eyes as the emotions truly sharpened. "A rose is truly beautiful with a Master's hand to prune her. You toys never learn your lesson. What once was, for us, will never be again." At first, this message could have been confusing. It was meant to dance the line of obscurity.
"My sleepy Sammy... Finally getting a moment to rest. He won't ever have his mother again. You won't be happy with what you used to have. Take it from me. Our experiences here have changed us. Simply fucking you won't ever scratch the itch I feel in my chest. I wasn't born this way. Do you get it now?" Heavy handed, sure. All over the place, that's valid criticism too. But, Triston was sure he had a point as he completely choked out Rose against her cell wall. Bringing her to the edge of that softening, yet sharp and tingly feeling, he felt a pleasure that simply fondling her would never provide. The younger Triston would hate who he is now. Of course that younger version of himself couldn't understand. No one is solely responsible for the change that occured in them while they were on the market. But, it's hard to tell how deep in a hole you have been without climbing out. These toys would never put themselves behind his dark hood and try to understand him from the inside out. It's easier to sit in their filthy cages and hurl words at him. Like they didn't know that words were nothing to the trauma they had all endured. As if he could run away to the south with a little money and search for a family that abandoned him. "You're all so naive... Not that I can blame you. How can you see the sky when you are chained beneath this roof? Your infantile views of who I am and what I have done is just another product of our abuse." He choked her right till the point he was sure she would lose feeling, but just before she'd faint. Not a second too soon, he released her throat and stepped back. Certain her legs wouldn't obey her. With her first few breaths, he knew she'd find a rush of endorphins. A warmth, an excitement, not that she'd understand it to be a purely chemical event.
"But you lecture me. Not you, in particular, my little wallflower. But, the slaves in general. For beings of the lowest chain of the ladder, they always seem to have the most to say. Of course I want to plant an arrow through your heart. It won't make me feel better. But, it would have made Sammy feel better." Triston took her hair and forced her against the wall, either on her ass or while standing, whatever height she could achieve. "As if I wasn't a silent observer. The man who sat in the dark while these toys were raped and Sam begged for death to come. How could I afford to have a heart then? What did you all expect of me once I was free? Get myself killed to keep you alive and bring you to safety?" He grew angry, just a touch, finally letting his feelings be known. "What kind of hero is born of this filth? None. Nobody experiences these sorrows, works till they wish for death for no pay, beaten and bloody, bruised and thrown like trash... And suddenly believes in the hearts of others. Do you not think I looked to the face of every man and woman who came in here while I scrambled to make little chimes and had hope they would be the one to safe me?! Of course I did. Every single time. Until my heart stopped feeling. 'Till that pain became an itch." He closed his eyes and released her hair. Silent for a moment, he didn't want to pretend like he cared. His point was that she would be different, like him, the moment she tasted true freedom again. Not that he stayed on that point. A little laugh escaped his lips as he smiled again.
His eyes opened as well, looking over her body with a mixture of excitement and disgust. "I wear my mask because I know it's pointless to talk. Nobody listens..." He contemplated mocking the evil of the Lords and ladies that had once joked about buying the younger Triston. False hope was the worst. "But I am out of words. I have a little present for you, my Rose."
"My sleepy Sammy... Finally getting a moment to rest. He won't ever have his mother again. You won't be happy with what you used to have. Take it from me. Our experiences here have changed us. Simply fucking you won't ever scratch the itch I feel in my chest. I wasn't born this way. Do you get it now?" Heavy handed, sure. All over the place, that's valid criticism too. But, Triston was sure he had a point as he completely choked out Rose against her cell wall. Bringing her to the edge of that softening, yet sharp and tingly feeling, he felt a pleasure that simply fondling her would never provide. The younger Triston would hate who he is now. Of course that younger version of himself couldn't understand. No one is solely responsible for the change that occured in them while they were on the market. But, it's hard to tell how deep in a hole you have been without climbing out. These toys would never put themselves behind his dark hood and try to understand him from the inside out. It's easier to sit in their filthy cages and hurl words at him. Like they didn't know that words were nothing to the trauma they had all endured. As if he could run away to the south with a little money and search for a family that abandoned him. "You're all so naive... Not that I can blame you. How can you see the sky when you are chained beneath this roof? Your infantile views of who I am and what I have done is just another product of our abuse." He choked her right till the point he was sure she would lose feeling, but just before she'd faint. Not a second too soon, he released her throat and stepped back. Certain her legs wouldn't obey her. With her first few breaths, he knew she'd find a rush of endorphins. A warmth, an excitement, not that she'd understand it to be a purely chemical event.
"But you lecture me. Not you, in particular, my little wallflower. But, the slaves in general. For beings of the lowest chain of the ladder, they always seem to have the most to say. Of course I want to plant an arrow through your heart. It won't make me feel better. But, it would have made Sammy feel better." Triston took her hair and forced her against the wall, either on her ass or while standing, whatever height she could achieve. "As if I wasn't a silent observer. The man who sat in the dark while these toys were raped and Sam begged for death to come. How could I afford to have a heart then? What did you all expect of me once I was free? Get myself killed to keep you alive and bring you to safety?" He grew angry, just a touch, finally letting his feelings be known. "What kind of hero is born of this filth? None. Nobody experiences these sorrows, works till they wish for death for no pay, beaten and bloody, bruised and thrown like trash... And suddenly believes in the hearts of others. Do you not think I looked to the face of every man and woman who came in here while I scrambled to make little chimes and had hope they would be the one to safe me?! Of course I did. Every single time. Until my heart stopped feeling. 'Till that pain became an itch." He closed his eyes and released her hair. Silent for a moment, he didn't want to pretend like he cared. His point was that she would be different, like him, the moment she tasted true freedom again. Not that he stayed on that point. A little laugh escaped his lips as he smiled again.
His eyes opened as well, looking over her body with a mixture of excitement and disgust. "I wear my mask because I know it's pointless to talk. Nobody listens..." He contemplated mocking the evil of the Lords and ladies that had once joked about buying the younger Triston. False hope was the worst. "But I am out of words. I have a little present for you, my Rose."