| This was peak fantasy for Willow. A dark dream that had played in her head more times than she could count, for more years than she should ever admit outloud. Though the Nazru found her physically disgusting, sick at the very sight of her and her kin, their treatment of her had bred a woman wanting -- needing -- punishment. There was a hole in the spot where her soul should be and there was nothing in existence that would ever fill it up enough. And she was good with that; she wanted it that way so that the abuse could keep coming, feeding her more primal desires in comparison to any kind of whimsical philosophical need to be reaffirmed. Torture and pain were the tools of caring and she relished in feeling their lash against her skin as well as dishing it out to others. And she marveled at the masters of this trade, much like this woman Thana.
Willow was all too ready for the abuse that was surely coming, double entendre intended. But before she could achieve any kind of payoff, she was suddenly and rudely thrown from both fantasy and agony, the dark wizard tossing her to the ground like a crumpled up piece of trash. To say that made things better for Willow would be an understatement but it wasn’t quite the punishment she was waiting for, lying on her back, one hand paused while the other held onto the air. She stared up in Thana in confusion, even as the woman dismissed the opportunity. Thana took a moment to appreciate the path that Willow had gone down and offered the chance to deepen her understanding and ability to sow chaos.
As if that wasn’t bad enough -- good enough? -- Thana brought up her boot and slammed it down on Willow’s face, twisting her head down and forcing half of her faces into the ground. It sent her mind spiraling into euphoria and her body right along with it. Willow let out a shaky groan before relaxing, her attention refocusing. Thana told her that if she were a ‘good little pet’ -- as if that wasn’t enough to push her again -- she’d even enlighten her on who the culprit was that had destroyed the Nazru. Now that was interesting. So this woman had a deep seeded knowledge not only about her race but about what had transpired between them and the Nazru. Further than that, she had foreknowledge on who specifically had brought about the ends to her former masters and threw Willow’s life on a tailspin. Truthfully, she didn’t care about any kind of revenge against the person, or so she told herself, but if it presented the opportunity to rend further punishment on her people for daring to think they were homefree… now that was an opportunity worth taking. She smiled against the boot on her cheek and gave the woman pushing down on her a gentle nod.
With her agreement in place, the boot was removed from her face. It was becoming increasingly apparent that Thana was not going to be screwing Willow anytime soon; utilizing her magic and her domineering stance to tease the girl without truly giving her what she wanted. Stars, if that wasn’t an even bigger turn on; this was the kind of punishment someone usually had to pay good money for. Not even bothering to wipe the boot mark off her cheek, Willow sat herself up even as Thana complimented her. “Oh I don’t think I want to be a good girl. Pet is nice though -- good pet or bad girl,” Willow said with a grin up to the woman.
But it wasn’t enough to put it to words; the Xocili needed proof of that loyalty she was now pledging. It was complicated though; Willow couldn’t just go on a killing spree, as she had already done that before Thana had even arrived. It couldn’t be something enjoyable -- it had to be an act performed that encapsulated her fears. Willow’s eyes widened slightly, not quite understanding what was being orated to her. The context she got but as far as she understood, she didn’t really have a lot she was afraid of. But it seemed that she wouldn’t be given a lot of time to consider herself; Thana came up with one herself and summoned for a curved blade. For a brief moment, Willow wondered if she was about to be cut, with the dark wizard reneging on her decline from earlier. But then the handle was turned towards her and it was demanded that she offer one of her arms.
A chill ran down Willow’s spine. She stared, wide-eyed, at the handle before her for a long moment before she slowly reached up and took it in hand. It shouldn’t have terrified her; she could always build a replacement, probably one that was better than her actual arm. Of course it would take her longer since she would be lacking the help of that additional limb. Yet even as she turned the blade over in her hand, she could feel her stomach clench and her throat tighten. She spoke a lot about being cut and abused but in all her years, no long lasting damage, such as mutilation, had been done to her. She’d been saved from that and perhaps that’s where that fear had been created from. She’d never experienced it and with it being unknown and mysterious, it didn’t have a tangible memory or feeling she could relate to.
Yet she understood that declining wasn’t an option. Thana had the aura of a woman who not only knew many things but expected just as much. This was a test of not just loyalty but of her dedication to a path she had only, apparently, dipped her toes into. As her master, Thana was telling her then and there that things would only get darker and more terrifying. And turning that down would most likely result in her immediate death. Her fingers tightened on the blade’s handle. And it was the excitement over what could be, what awaited her on the other side, that she drew energy from. Death was a constant and it was juvenile to fear it’s approach. But the possibilities of what she could learn from Thana, experience at Thana’s hands…
Hell, she didn’t need two arms for that. A ravenous, nearly manic look crossed over her face, her eyes flaring a brighter pink as she grinned from the very deep, dark depths of her soul. Her other arm rose up quickly, extending away from her body. And then in one swift motion, she swung the blade over and through the flesh of her bicep. Blinding, agonizing pain ripped through her veins as the limp dropped the ground, black blood spewing from the stump. It hurt to her very core but she continued to grin, her chest heaving from the exhilaration she was feeling in tandem with the pain. She dropped the blade to the ground and slowly reached over to the limp appendage laying on the floor, gripping it and pulling it up. Finding strength in her insipid excitement, she brought her offer up and presented it to Thana, much as the blade had been presented to her. “Been a long time… since I just gave a hand job on the first date… but whatever makes you happy, mistress,” Willow said between panting, pained breaths.
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