Re: [M] but you're that girl with sharp teeth

p. Guillen | Amherst, past midnight

POSTED: Tue Apr 24, 2018 5:32 am

The man’s words suggested he was an open book, but to Dystopia, it was too early to tell that just yet. She, however, was a closed one. Locked tight, hidden away. Her true intentions would only be revealed through her actions, through blood spilled on that dusty wooden floor underneath her toes that were now just starting to un-numb. Dystopia shifted against her restraints, feeling an itch on her nose that she could only agitate with her tongue, but not satisfy with a claw. Her crimson eyes lingered on the orange coat of the stranger, one she had not yet known his name, yet here they were having a conversation.

Dystopia wondered how her mother would trick the man in this situation. Perhaps she’d climb into the man’s lap and give him what he had asked for in the first place. Perhaps it’d be then she’d slit his throat, or maybe after he climaxed.

”Do you not like your meat bloody? Raw? Red and dripping?” Dystopia asked him again, avoiding his question once more. She’d try to wrangle the control of this conversation right out of his grasp if he’d let her. It would seem that it’d be quite hard to do, actually.

A rough hand shot out, pulling her towards him so roughly that she fell in an awkward position into his lap – rump on the mess of furs, legs stretched out over his, back leaning against the corner wall, hands still tied behind her. Her knuckles brushed against the soft fur on the hides while her shoulders felt the cold bite of the walls. Her eyes once again found the stranger. Unwavering, unafraid to look danger right into the eyes and not look away.

She could feel the ache in her toes melting away as they were propped up. She stretched them, all the while trying to figure how she’d answer the question without really answering the question. Getting something for nothing. ”Even if you do decide to keep me, how are you going to pry me from the grip of that man?” She nodded toward the other room.

In the next moment, Dystopia sighed, deciding that she will indeed answer the man’s question so that they could move onto more interesting topics. ”No, I do not cook. I prefer my meat fresh as should you. I can, however, hunt. My parents taught me well.” If only the man knew what she were referring to.

Word Count → 000 :: ooc text here

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POSTED: Tue Apr 24, 2018 11:55 pm

It was an awkward position that the girl ended up in, after he'd roughly pulled her closer. He'd hoped to see a little bit of fear in her eyes as a result, her fate ultimately held in his hands, but found that same unafraid gaze. If her lack of fear had gone hand in hand with resistance to him, the man might have struck her for it eventually, but just as surprising as her lack of fear, was how well behaved she'd been up to that point. At least physically, even if verbally she'd been more stubborn than the wolf would have liked.

He listened to the captive wonder at how he planned to change who she belonged to, his hand idly resting on her. It was tempting to do more than that, but the man was in no rush, there was an entire night for that, a lifetime if he chose to try and steal her from the trader. How she lay haphazard on the bed with him wasn't something he allowed to last forever though. There was no hurry to his efforts, but Guillen helped her upright into a kneeling position that he guessed would be more comfortable, even if it meant straddling him.

”Don't worry about how I'll make you mine, worry about making yourself appealing enough to go to the trouble...” Guillen finally responded, his tone almost dismissive at the idea that obtaining her was the difficult part. His eyes appraised her, if only for a few moments, before acknowledging that she'd finally answered his question ”You seem clever enough, I'm sure you'll pick up cooking, if I tell you to learn... Just like you've been smart enough to not try and pull away.”.

From idly resting his hand on Dystopia, to reaching behind her, drawing her chest to chest with him in the process, Guillen's fingers sought out her bound wrists. ”If you make me put these back on, they'll be much tighter than he made them.” Guillen commented in a serious tone, warning the girl before he actually started to undo the bindings that the slaver had left on her. He discarded the cordage when he was done, to see how she might react once her hands were free. If the submission that had earned her that freedom would slip away the moment she could try and claw at him.
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POSTED: Wed Apr 25, 2018 2:41 am

Smart enough.

That was certainly interesting. Smart enough to not pull away, smart enough to wait for the right moment to strike. He had pulled her onto him in a more suitable position, perhaps the one he had been hoping for, but did not get at first. It reminded her of the position she sat on Sebastien Stone, a leg on either side, chest-to-chest, face-to-face. Except in that situation, she had been in control. This situation proved to be the exact opposite. But even with her legs split apart, sitting upon him, her nonchalance did not falter. He drew her even closer, Dystopia half-assuming he was going to kiss her, geared herself up for something she had never done before. However, instead, he buried her face into his furry shoulder while he reached for the ties at her wrists. She had been hoping he’d pull a dagger or a weapon from one of his storage compartments to cut her ties, but instead, he just untied them with his hands. He had dexterous fingers; he wasn’t even looking.

”Let me deal with the trader,” Dystopia insisted, ignoring the man’s assumption that she’d just pick up slave duties like she were some den-maid. ”I have some pent up anger that I’m sure you don’t want me to take out on you.” Hey, at least she was killing two birds with one stone, right?

With her hands unbound, she fixed her feet and rose, pushing against his hands that sought to keep her in place. She walked absently around the darkened room, not seeking to leave, just to get a feel for her current surroundings. ”It’ll be much cleaner if you have a weapon, but killing him with my teeth will work, too.” Dystopia’s fingers straightened the edge of her previously rolled shirt, pulling it down to where it was supposed to hang over her midsection.

She had heard his threat about the bindings, but at this point, her wrath was not directed at the orange-furred man, it was directed at the trader who they both wanted to rid the world of. Why not allow her to be of some use right out of the box?

Word Count → 000 :: ooc text here

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Bound by blood, never alone.

POSTED: Sat May 19, 2018 2:34 am

The younger canine was far from what he'd expected when first laying eyes on her, not all of those differences particularly appealing to the wolf. He'd have preferred her to be less willful, but she'd not squirmed and pleaded with him either. All in all, she had managed to remain more positive than negative in the man's eyes, enough at least for him to test her without her wrists bound together.

He had certainly not expected her to suggest that she be the one to 'deal' with the trader, that surprise dulling his response to the more unlikable insinuation that she might do something to him if she didn't get her way. Guillen's eyes narrowed considerably when she actually pulled away from him, evading his slower than usual efforts to keep her in place.

It was tempting to follow her, to assert his will, maybe even beat the notion that she could harm him out of her. Guillen willed himself to stay where he was though, to follow her with his eyes as she seemed content to wander the room, rather than actually try to escape him. Unseen thoughts were mulled over in the man's mind, weighing a new part of her, the girl's apparent willingness to do violence.

”And why should I let you get to release that pent up anger, if the first thing you do is push away from who you belong to now?” the wolf answered with a question, and annoyed tone to his voice, even if he remained seated. The man showing no sign that he was unnerved by her nonchalant demand to kill her tormentor, and instead suggesting that just needed to jump through hoops to get what she wanted.

”Either way, nothing will happen to him till morning. Now, come back. Will be plenty of time to look around the room tomorrow.” Guillen continued, his choice of words less ambiguous about whether he would decide to 'keep her', but just as firm in his demand that she come to him without needing to grab her by the wrist. It was a strange carrot to place in front of her, the opportunity to kill another, in exchange for obedience toward him, but something that the wolf wasn't above using. So long as it led to what he wanted.
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