03-12-2017, 07:18 PM
He kept his head bowed, his body aching, soaked in the smell of his filthy sins. And before he knew it, he was forcefully knocked down. He buckled to his knees with a sharp grunt, gritting his teeth and raising his head only enough to lift burning eyes to his mentor, his master. He had never been good with authority. Their relationship had been tumultuous at every turn, and he was constantly having to learn to shut the hell up or pay for it in flesh. He didn't seem to learn that lesson so easily.
You look terrible.
And in a beat, he was healed, washed clean of the wounds and bruises, of the blood that was not all his own, of the smell of sweat and sex and wicked misdeeds. I teach you your power, and you go off half-cocked on some helpless girls? Have you no honor!? The scolding hurt, but the mention of Leliana hurt far worse, and he flinched from it, his eyes lowering in uncharacteristic defeat. Disgusting, the magician spat, circling him. Yes, he was disgusting. He always would be.
Enjoyed him, did you? Did you get off on the pain?
His eyes shot up to meet that dark smile, surprised once again at the endless power of this man that owned him. Zoryn. He'd seen what happened with Zoryn. Dovev's face darkened with a snarl and he lunged for him, no matter how foolish it was to do so, hating the reminder of what he'd done. Hating himself for being himself.
Of course he hadn't liked it, he didn't enjoy pain, only knew how to bear it. Pain was Zoryn's high, not his. Hurting Zor was what he liked, watching the suffering be instead deep pleasure, hearing his guttural moans at the things Dov did to him. Feeling the heady power of being the one to pull such deep desires from another. All by beating the shit out of him. Dov was good at pain, good at destruction. Good at driving that gold-painted man over the edge of ecstasy time and again. And his wicked sister, too.
He was good at the terrible things, good at bringing pain. He had been trained for it, taught to use his body as a weapon to protect a love he no longer had. All thanks to the Ash tree burned into his flank, and the man before him. All thanks to the one he now threw his body towards in a powerful but useless attack, heedless of the consequences as always.
You look terrible.
And in a beat, he was healed, washed clean of the wounds and bruises, of the blood that was not all his own, of the smell of sweat and sex and wicked misdeeds. I teach you your power, and you go off half-cocked on some helpless girls? Have you no honor!? The scolding hurt, but the mention of Leliana hurt far worse, and he flinched from it, his eyes lowering in uncharacteristic defeat. Disgusting, the magician spat, circling him. Yes, he was disgusting. He always would be.
Enjoyed him, did you? Did you get off on the pain?
His eyes shot up to meet that dark smile, surprised once again at the endless power of this man that owned him. Zoryn. He'd seen what happened with Zoryn. Dovev's face darkened with a snarl and he lunged for him, no matter how foolish it was to do so, hating the reminder of what he'd done. Hating himself for being himself.
Of course he hadn't liked it, he didn't enjoy pain, only knew how to bear it. Pain was Zoryn's high, not his. Hurting Zor was what he liked, watching the suffering be instead deep pleasure, hearing his guttural moans at the things Dov did to him. Feeling the heady power of being the one to pull such deep desires from another. All by beating the shit out of him. Dov was good at pain, good at destruction. Good at driving that gold-painted man over the edge of ecstasy time and again. And his wicked sister, too.
He was good at the terrible things, good at bringing pain. He had been trained for it, taught to use his body as a weapon to protect a love he no longer had. All thanks to the Ash tree burned into his flank, and the man before him. All thanks to the one he now threw his body towards in a powerful but useless attack, heedless of the consequences as always.
