The lesson wasn't at all like she thought it was going to be. Somehow, someway, he was manipulating her - controlling her - toying with her. She didn't know why, only that his sharp crimson gaze seemed to be looking for something eagerly. Was it weakness he was trying to spot? The exact moment when she'd give up and stop fighting? He was like all the rest. All of them.
And it caused her to shake as she bared her teeth at him. Kavala could tell he was holding back. He was holding back because she was weak. Stupid girl... how come she thought she could ever throw off someone like him? It wasn't fair that someone so strong had so much power over someone so much weaker just because their form varied. She would never be as big as him, even if he was lanky rather than bulky like most of his race. She was small, lithe, ill equipped to use brute force and throw him around. And it enraged her, even more so than she was already feeling.
When he urged her to get mad, it confused her because his voice was supposed to tell her to shut up. To enjoy it... that she was going to like it. The past superimposed itself on the present and Radris' face changed, cycling through one of the seven men who used her so badly directly after her capture. She kept blinking, hissing up at him, struggling beneath him. She used her body, what he allowed her to have free, and fought for her life and in some ways her very soul. But when Radris' head dipped, snagged at her tunic with his teeth and ripped it baring a breast, something in Kavala snapped.
Her eyes lost all sense of her sentience and as if a dam broke in her mind, her anger came pouring forth. It was so sudden, so tangible, it was like a solid force slamming into Radris. When she'd screamed moments before, it had only hinted at the sheer amount of anger she had buried within her. Like an emotional eruption, Kavala exploded in his arms even as he hauled her to her feet.
The abuse continued, so too did his words, which he could tell she could hear because they effected her deeply. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she kept fighting him. Nothing stayed still on her. Her hands were everywhere, her legs shifting, moving her weight neatly from once stance to another showing an excellent sense of balance - at least in her body. In her mind, the balance was completely lost.
As he spun her and tucked her against him, she could feel the hardness of his body, the readiness he felt at her rage and it fueled her shattered boundaries even further. He was making demands of her, placing his hands where they didn't belong. He tore the rest of her tunic, baring her breasts and then his hand dipped lower, violating her. She lashed out with a leg, making an animalistic growling motion as his words filled her mind, fueling the rage, demanding more - prying open her mind and trying to drag the words out of her.
She hissed, a first attempt to speak even as Radris' hand yanked her pelvis closer to his own, aligning her suggestively - more intimately - against him. His words came again, his lips against her ear. It didn't matter she still had half her clothing. It didn't matter that in his treachery he was going far further than she'd ever thought he would. What mattered was that she couldn't stop. Once she started speaking, she couldn't stop. It was as if her words could push back his finger even as it brushed her nerve center and caused her to jump violently.
"I'd tear your soul out...one touch at a time - one blow at a time. One word at a time. I'd take it piece by piece with blood and pain and fear and shred it to the point you'd never find the pieces!" She spat, her words inhuman and filled with such anger. There was nothing in her now of the shy calm healer. Kavala was something feral, raging, untamed in his arms. And the healer had rage pouring off her like an overly warm horse on a cool misty morning. It gave him a glimpse of the inner voice, the tormented one, the one that would find the courage to pick up a blade or to set her back to his in a fight and defend it as much as he defended hers after she had more training. The thing in his arms was pure power, strength, and thoroughly pissed off. Tossing her hair like a furious horse, Kavala had lost the leather thong that always drew her hair upwards neatly and now it hung free, partially tangled, and added to the dangerous unstable aura she was projecting.
Once she started, Kavala couldn't stop. And common didn't do the trick. She started swearing in Pavi and worked her way through Kontinese - her words a mystery to Radris, but their meaning as clear as a siren's song across his hearing. It dripped violence, rage, and a thousand other emotions that would be the building block of what he could created out of her shattered psyche.
Kavala switched to broken Tukant and suddenly her meanings became crystal clear. Somehow, the combination of his voice and his violence, and indeed the violation of his touch brought it all to the surface in one incredible upsurge. Radris was incredibly lucky that Kavala's talents lay in the direction of animals. For as he felt the dam within her break, in the pasture closest to them, the horses grazing all lifted their heads at once and snorted, shying away from the direction of their location. At Sanctuary, just a small walk across the grass, another horse screamed its distress - probably Kavala's little buckskin stallion. Birds wheeled overhead and then dove, swooping to change direction and fly away as fast as possible. Kavala's emotions came together all at once and she screamed again - this time in sheer fury. Her words came fast and furious, forced outwards as if she couldn't contain them any longer.
Rage poured forth, washing over him like acid.
"I'd starve you... like you starved me in body and soul. Then I'd feast of your withered flesh like you feasted of mine. Every day I'd rain blows on your body... over and over... until you hated your body as much as you hated me. I'd love discolored flesh, you see. I would love it with a passion and make sure every inch of yours either bore my mark or my pleasure. I'd rename you... something cloying and sweet, and then call you that over and over again until you forget your own name or don't even care to remember it. " She said, hissing the words out, still struggling in his arms.
More anger boiled forth.
"That is another part of your soul gone - with each new game, with each blow, with each penetration. You only have so many, right? There's only so much you can take and still be alive. I'd have you begging me to kill you quickly. But I wouldn't. Not after the trouble you've given me. You die quickly... so damn quickly... piece by piece as they take your soul." Teeth dipped down, snapped, as if she could bite into his forearm but he knew she was too far gone to follow through with it. Somewhere, in the midst of her 'get away from the attacker' training, things had drastically changed. Kavala's voice was almost inhuman as she hissed her venom filled words.
"I'd take my knives and make you sharpen them, over and over and over again never once worried you'd stab me with them because I'd already broken you making you incapable. I'd watch you sharpen them and laugh, knowing the better job you did, the more they were going to hurt you." Kavala said, her voice laced with venom and her mind suddenly filled with the images of what one particular individual had done to her.
"Then I'd use them on your flesh, carving up the blank spaces with my artwork until every time you looked in the mirror you saw my handiwork and knew who owned your flesh. I'd cut you so much, so deeply, at the same time I'm using you... that your mind would get confused as to what is pleasure and what is pain. And then I'd apologize, even though I wasn't sorry - I'd apologize for leaving you broken and shredded even though I like my possessions destroyed. I'd leave you time and time again laying on the floor swimming in your own blood, my spittle, and filled with my seed just like the first time when I delighted in finding out no man got what I got. Oh that was sweet blood, alright. Even as it coated your thighs, I knew it was the sweetest blood you'd ever bleed. Just once, but once is enough. No one else can bloody you like that. I was the first. It was my privilege. I earned it by going to the work to capture your ignorant little ass. I'd kill you with hatred, violence, and teach you that your body was just a slab of zith meat. And you'd believe me. Every time... always. Because you'd be nothing more than a piece of horse shit. No worth, no value, utterly destroyed. Because I'd hit you until you didn't know which way was up or down, and then I'd hit you a bunch more for no particular reason save my own pleasure. I'm a filthy bastard.... you see. And I like being this way..." She spit the words out, enraged, shaking in his arms. And then she repeated it, over and over again... like she couldn't stop. And really she couldn't. Once he'd pried open the floodgates, she couldn't close them. And the scary thing was, it wasn't even her voice. It was her memories. They were repressed memories, broken free, lanced by Radris' actions and all his physical triggers.
As she repeated the words, she lunged against Radris' hold, each time growing weaker as the anger released and settled around her. Finally she grew still in his arms. Kavala didn't sob, didn't fall forward, or grow limp in his grasp. Instead, she simply stood straight - oddly so - and stared out in front of her as if she were finally coming to a decision about something - a firm decision. A stranger, from a different angle, would have perhaps stopped short and stared at her eyes - which were huge and luminous and full of calm rage. She panted, her voice having long gone raspy. And though he hadn't followed through on his threats other than the slow iron pressure of his finger which had unlocked the last of her captured festering abuse, she still heaved in his arms like they'd just gotten done coupling violently. He could feel something different. She was ready now, he realized, ready to move forward in her life as cool air touched the soul deep exposed wounds and drew the rawness away. But he knew something else then too. His hand, indeed his finger, was coated with the evidence that her body responded to the violence, awoke to it, wanted it, needed it, craved it.
"Let me go." She said softly, suddenly, her voice deadly.
"Just let me go, Radris." Kavala shifted, resettling her feet, this time her motions calm, controlled even though there was still wetness on her cheeks evidence of tears she hadn't known she'd shed. He hadn't even been sure she could stand on her own a moment ago, now though, suddenly, part of him wondered if he could keep holding her without more - without pushing. She was opting out, but he knew she didn't really want out. She wanted to be the aggressor, and follow through with each and every one of her words. Kavala had never been that in her life. She'd always been the victim - the one with no choices and he sensed it clearly.
Kavala wanted to turn in his arms, and he knew it. Just by the way he held her, pressed up against her, he could tell that things had changed. Her rage had turned to aggression and it was directed at him in a calm and entirely new way, mixed with her body's complete and utter arousal - arousal they'd taught her wasn't possible without pain - which surprised the common sense completely out of her. She was a new kind of powder keg suddenly, one that was volatile and likely to blow with or without a spark due to the heat already present. He had two choices. Let her blow in his arms with him or release her into the world untapped.
