at my feet you'll bow to me
Tetradore's half-man, half-beast screams burst from his parted lips without being able to hold it back despite his want to do so. The very sound of it was an exotic blend that filled the open space like music to the feline queen's ears. It did not belong to either species, but a unique merge between the two as he shifted painfully back from beast to man. The inhuman strength of the she-devil's unrelenting, tearing hold upon his neck had so easily made her usually quiet pet sing. In that moment, there was no denying who was master here, especially as his form stilled like a helpless kitten who had been scruffed. If only those vicious lessons had lasting effects, but at the very least, she had him exactly where she wanted. Complacent.
Only once Risque was satisfied did she unceremoniously release her grip with a startling suddenness that caused his usually graceful movements to falter, even if he didn't fall. It was then that her inflicted wound drew her sharp eye, only to notice just how messy that wound actually was. His hot alpha blood, taunting her as it trickled in long, thin bloody lines down his muscular back. The tempting scent only beckoned to make a feast out of what was being wasted. It was a pity, a true shame to waste what she knew tasted of power and yet how she didn't want to risk her venom in his system, especially for what she had in store for her naughty little pet. No, she would rather him feel it all, live through it all so that he might remember it with perfect clarity going forward.
She moved around him, every step echoed her dominance and grace, his glare having little effect with his fate already sealed in her mind. Never uninspired, she latched her pale, hypnotic gaze upon that phoenix necklace he wore as her powers had seized him in place. Her affinity had replaced that unrelenting grip of her hand and yet it was a different kind of hold, one that screamed of complete domination over his inner feline and in exchange, him. She would not normally use so much on one being and yet he and his irritating will had left her with no choice but to make a clear statement. Without a hint of warning, her hand snapped forward to reach for the necklace. So simply it was plucked from his neck, feeling it reluctance as it gave way to hang limply across her slender fingertips. It barely took an effort as the clasp broke like ripping a petal from a flower.
That statement within the act was clear. His immortality belonged to her, just as he did. He was far from a free bird like that phoenix represented. No, better not be mistaking that... it was only fitting she put it inside a cage. Those gruesome thoughts echoed in her mind, drawing a slow calculating grin upon her lips.
How she noticed the flutter of his heart, enjoying the sound of it. It only made her want to strike that much harder while she possessed a reaction. His apathy could not hide his traitorous heart, nor the chemicals within an all too human body. She drew in a breath, drawing the scent of his blood and adrenaline, a heady mix she would have relished within if she had not seen a greater goal.
It was then that the she-devil offered him a choice. Not that it was much of one.
Sit. He chose a little too quickly for her not to notice, even though she made no indication that she even heard him or an agreeance to honour his choice. Not that it made much of a difference. Each choice had their downfalls and it gave him the illusion of control before she ripped it away like that very necklace she held. It all ended the same way anyways.
She eyed her pet, those pale eyed boring into him with a cruel assessment. Wasting no more time, that accented voice filled the room. "Face the wall, nose touching, then place your hands behind your back, I want your fingers wrapped your forearms firmly, now." She commanded effortlessly, her rage satisfied for the moment as a foreboding calm seduced her.
"Stay like that. Do not move." She ordered shortly after the previous order had been conceded to. There was no room for mistaking what she wanted, her patience sated with the promise of his impending misfortune, Risque was certain was brought on by his own actions that very night.
Only when satisfied with his obedience, the feline-queen moved away to remove her talons just before she procured a neatly folded, long black rope that she draped over her forearm, plucking one of her favoured blades. She refused to allow him to have use of his hands for what she had planned, even with her powers that could be used to keep him equally bound and still. How she wanted him to truly feel trapped and helpless before her, to serve as reminder of his very place and just who held his strings. She drew toward her feline pet, placing the blade to the side, on a ledge along with that necklace at its side. "One day.." She spoke, her saccharine voice like telling a young one a story. "You will break so thoroughly that you will become the perfect, obedient pet as you were meant to be, mon chat." The feline queen uttered with such certainty of its inevitability just as she had said many times before. "Until then, more drastic measures are in order." A threatening obscurity painted her honied words, marveling in the very way a body could endure so much before it gave out. Tetradore, perhaps one of her more durable beasts.
Cold fingers unravelled the rope with care before sliding it around his neck with a gentleness so that equal parts draped over his muscular shoulders. It sprawled out behind him like a train, perfect for that intricate process. She positioned him like he was merely a doll, ordering him about, to move and do as she pleased. With every bind and knot she wove, made that restrictive hold even more resolute and tighter than it ever needed to be. It was nothing but constricting in every way. Yet how well thought out it had to be, to have either side mirror each other. How this garnered her attention and complete concentration as she move her masterpiece. He was like a fly trapped into her spiderweb of her own intricate design. Even his fingers were knotted and bound, that taut rope around his neck influenced by how much her alpha squirmed.
His body was already stretched to its limit, his discomfort intended. The she-devil then eyed each meticulous knot, the way it restrained his movements. She allowed to fingertips to run over the fabric that bound him so perfectly, wound so tight that only the barest of movements would command even more of his ache.
"Turn." She demanded. "Perfect." She uttered in french.
"Tell me how that feels. Can you move?" How she knew how it felt, she could see his shoulders straining from the tension of it, see the way her ropes dug into his flesh. Those ropes were tight, its hold offering so little give. Just like her and the ever restrictive prison she made for him.
I like you damaged, but I need something left
Something for me, something for me to wreck