20th of April, 1996th of NDE.
A pungent odor spread throughout the brig of the back section of the Aurig-Css Voidship. Each of the cells jailed the lifeless forms of the marines killed upon entering, and the two groups sent to eliminate the invaders with little to no success. It even reached into the vents and would have spread across the gargantuan vessel if not for the force fields erected to stop further incursions from the enemy. The enemy who themselves erected a bubble ceasing the spread of the malodorous scent, confining it within the spacious brig and its more than a dozen cells used usually to keep prisoners for the mining colonies in more peaceful times.
In the center of the ceiling, nails began to dance around, slowly climbed out from the small holes drilled into the metal. Soft metallic clings echoed within the damp and dim space, almost followed by a mildly louder one if not for the carefulness Decorated-Agent Dhairon – a quite handsome Aothirian of the Hauld-Caste. Long, slicked back hair on top, a white and luminous as the moon hanging over their home world, sheared on the sides with stubbles growing on his temples. A muscur body composed of flesh and an etheric darkness fused into one, furthering the otherworldly handsomeness of his visage blessed with sharp, angurly lined jaw and prominent cheeks on top of his star-shaped pupils of white silvery shade.
On his ripped, slender form a tight bodysuit seamed from a leathery textile accentuated his ten abs stealing up towards his chest. Around his firm, thick neck a colr grown from the circur neckline, zipper fully pulled up, and a few rubbery ptes strapped onto his shoulders, arms and legs except for the foot. Upon nding, the enchanted textile muffled any and all whispers it would have made. From his belt, he picked off a small device with a rectangur screen and when nothing appeared on its opaque surface, he put it back and held his arm high just as his fellow agent’s appeared from the open vent. Carefully, Dhairon helped her down, not noticing the faint discoloration of her soft cheeks and the soft trembling of the overpping folds running over them.
Elongated, light pink fingers wrapped around his soft, dark palms belonging to the Octoreilon agent, Mnahuikarol. The hair of tentacles staggered towards his face, the beak opened revealing the bright violet and pink tongue framed by two hanging feelers reaching down to her hilly bosom stretching the leathery bodysuit kissing her body. “M?n?zs?k! (Thanks!)” She said whispering as their grasp tightened and he caught between his arms after she fallen into it, feet firmly arrived on the floor.
Her long awaited moment was broken by a single, soft beep that expelled the silence. “Bboj zsel ah knujúle. (We better hide.)” Dhairon said calmly, taking only a gnce on the detector’s screen. The two quickly surveyed the brig and near to them, noticed a faintly opened door. Behind one of the rge piles of their dead comrades, they kneeled and poured the flowing mana within their soul into their flesh and with it in tandem, their uniform turned completely translucent.
Etiklyss entered first, the wavy locks around her dangled as she suddenly peered towards the two hidden agents. Her eyes glowed in the lit gloom, nearly mesmerized Dhairon, but the fuzzy feeling in his heart, and nether region faded. “Abáscip! (Shit!)” Noticing the hatch down on the floor, the nails rolling peacefully around, singing their soft, metallic hymns, Mnahukarol rushed out, on her invisible fingers, the flesh contorted and domed, caved at their center until they resembled the suctions of octopi.
“Mhrh nn hhm hmrrh!” Quickly, guided her shapely, honed legs towards the back of Etiklyss’s knees, sending her kneeling down, then cmped the suction decorated hand over her mouth. Gaseous ink poured into the solfrith’s mouth and nostrils, a drowsiness in its heel. Her lids slowly draped over her bright, ochre eyes and her struggling halted into total limpness as she slowly crumpled into Mnahukarol’s bosom, her bun fttened, pressured by her head. A bit of ink flown past her lips, down onto her neck surrounded by the mulberry metallic silken colrs.
Dhairon himself leapt out, his silenced pistol in hand and aimed at the astounded Seiko. Though she managed to free herself from the yoke of the moment, it was still too te. A rubber bullet left the barrel with only a faint hush following it, and passed through just beneath the swept bang’s fringe. Upon impact, a shockwave passed from the hardened rubber, and a darkness wreathed over her sight as her back fallen against the wall. The dragonidh leather scraped against it as her body slowly slunk down, a purplish red mark adorning the center of her widening forehead.
“Dz?t?k gem a tédnüt! (Secure the elf!)” Passing beside her, Dhairon said in a low tone whilst Mnahukarol let out a sigh whilst perspiration cascaded down at the edge of her face upon seeing the etheric light fade from the barrel of Seiko’s rapid-mana gun. She nodded then began to run through the outer pockets, fpping and zipping down each before she opened up the jacket and searched through the pockets. In the inner ones, she found a few rolls of sealing tape.
Within seconds she stood calmly over the trussed up Etiklyss. Her eyes gnced upon the silver sealing tape meticulously looping around her ankles, thighs and even her knees. Still feeling a bit unsure, she kneeled down and poked with her long, inky bck cw the tightened tape around her wrists, and wrapped a few more yers, covering the curled fists. Simirly, she grabbed the amber cheeks veiled by the tape widely stretching across from one side to another, and found herself a bit enamored by the outer film yer – drawn in by the refined luster it gave off even in the dim brig.
A bit of effort she needed to wrench away her gaze, and as she stood up, from the corner of her eye, she saw Dhairon finish binding the exotic soratanese with a meager tan. She hugged Etiklyss from behind – eliciting a faint muffled moan from the Faufniriath – her hands locked over her bosom, pressing onto leather and tape, pressing her arms against her sides.
“Küyget tek? a bboj idlo abállec, a falhoz zohf ebibbelez?k! (Put them in the cell on the right side, the one nearest to the wall!)” As their thick heels scraped against the floor, vibrations sending warm, numbing waves across their bound forms, the two Bck Roses let out soft moans. Sitting on the floor, hidden behind a small mound of corpses, Mnahuikarol watched as Dhairon tiptoed around the two, stepping over their legs stretching forward, whilst using the remaining tape on his borrowed roll to bind them together.
For a few more moments, they stayed and watched, a bit amazed by the capabilities of the tape. How it seemed to have a frugal life of its own as it cramped and pressed into the uniform cd bodies of the two whose muffled lulbies filled the malodorous air. A few second ter, the silence returned at st, and the tape stopped its relentless march, cruel and clingy constriction. The two stirred not long before the footsteps were muffled by the closing door.
Their own muffled moans and whimpers permeated the air as the caustic smell of the dead slithered into their noses, gnawing and biting at their senses. Tears welled in the corners of their eyes, flowing on their cheeks and after a bit while decided to try furthering themselves from the dead. Even without words the two managed to hop in unison, though it took them hours to even reach the closed cell doors. By that time, they only had power to wheeze in their gags, and hold back the bile wanting to be free.
***
Iloz gradually awakened to a series of sensations. Some pleasant, others not so much. First, he heard the faint and dry whispering of ropes being knotted, followed by the aching of his wrists as they pushed onto them, pressuring the mildly damp fabric of his white shirt onto his strong, milk white skin with meager reddish undertones. Soothing the pain, a little was the gentle perfumed breeze – an overpowering cherry sprinkled with a bit of patchouli and an exotic blend reminiscent of the chilly spice of his homend.
Before his gradually opening bck pearly eyes, Todica’s shapely, frugal breasts hung confined by the raven bck corset-vest with a double-breasted front and broad pels reaching the chest line and converging with the asymmetrical, funnel shaped colrs folded down, sprawling across her slender shoulders and chest line. From the pyramid like space, her mulberry red dress shirt’s colrs arose in their metallic silken gmour, and enveloped her scale growth decorated neck, contrasting abaster whites like her short hair against the deep bck toned skin with icy highlights. Her golden eyes met his, and he gulped sensing the feral delight behind them.
At the same time, he also became aware of his bare legs as blood across his body began to flow towards his prized spear slowly hailing from the sight of the dark dracorith before him. “Gd you are happy to see me.” With a foxy smile on her face following blessed with a gracefully broad forehead, slightly less wider cheekbones and tapering jawline, she whispered into his ears before his serrated tongue drawn across his taped cheek, stopping before the wide protrusion of bone below his stretched eye’s frame. The bck tape glistened like her oily skin as she took one step back to adore the muscur form of the strange human. her eyes stopping at the diagonally standing dick. “Todica by the way. Though not sure if you speak our tongue.”
Thanks to the wide strip strewn across his diamond contoured face, the words of confirmation pouring from his sealed lips turned unintelligible. “Don’t think you will mind if we spend some quality time together. Better than just sitting on your ass all trussed up.” She said ignoring the faint groans and whimpers, her pleasantly warm hand drawn across his thigh, stopping just at his long shaft her eyes seemed glued towards. Before that though, she began to button down his coat and shirt, basking in the ten blocks of muscle running up his abdomen, stopping right below his equally firm, held out chest.
“Good, you agree.” She said lifting firmly his head by his narrow jawline, bringing it closer to let her warm, perfumed breath brush and madden Iloz. Then she walked behind with measured steps, looking at the goods behind before her boot’s thick soles rose away from the floor. Stealing past his sides, her right hand slowly wrapped its cwed fingers gently furled around the hardened, yet still somewhat soft shaft, whilst the other began to massage his tensed-up thighs. Waves of mana poured from the tips and the cold cws, injecting a soothing warmth that quickly mingled with the rising heat in his abdomen. Her head rested atop his firm shoulders, leaning against the flowing, warm earthly red hair with slight copper highlights staggering down onto his shoulder.
As loud moans passed through the strip of oily bck sealing tape, his gaze where shame and thrill mingled swept across the room. The arboretum filled with sprawling flowers, some bearing petals as rge his exposed, bound upper body, others smaller, congregating in the shadows of their gargantuan cousins. All bore a myriad different, mesmerizing colors, and he could remember their pleasant scent permeating the air. Now he only sensed her bewitching mixture of a scent, and his own odor as perspirations cascaded down his chest, seemingly to the rhythm of the increasing strokes. And for a moment, nearing the cusp of ejacution, he noticed movement in the corner, but paid no mind to it, instead decided to be lost in the wave of pleasure.
But just as the dam was about to break, she stopped and retreated a step back. Then walked before him with a lustful expression, as she was a sve of the same heat as him. “It would be a shame to waste even a single drop.” Slowly she descended onto her knees, and as her lips entered the same elevation as the roundish tip of his phallus, her lips slowly encircled it. Their coldness was a soothing pleasure of its own, and her head thrusted forward, the serrated tongue brushing against it brought him onto the cusp, but strangely he felt no instinctual urge to release the amassing milk.
Their mingling, muffled moans of pleasure turned rhythmic as her hands held his thighs. Slowly she lifted them in tandem with her own rising and bending. Then after the Gods knows how many strokes, thrusts after Iloz released the first tide into her mouth, and seemingly it flowed straight down her throat. “Yummy, still as tasteful as I remembered.” She said, licking around her lips whilst Iloz hung head slumped down, his taped cheeks puffing out with each deep breath whilst his eyes seemed lost in the moment.
“Hang in there buddy. We shall go another round in five or ten.” She gently lifted his head, and kissed him on the bulging lips. The wave of her breath still felt just as bewitching as before, then with a longing, hung gaze watched as she walked into the jungle, basking in the beauty of the flowers before a pair of arms protruded from the denseness. Her soft, muffled whimper mingled with the hushing of vines, flowers before silence settled on the arboretum.
Not long after, he watched as fellow kin of himself walked out from floral thickness, dragging the firmly bound Todica before unceremoniously releasing her. The bck oily sealing tape adorned perfectly her face – he thought – but then his lustful gazed moved onto the equally gorgeous agent whose dense and lustrous ptinum blonde hair with Tyrian purple ends and edges framed her smooth, sapphire blue face in a U-shape. “Strat ik motábar! (Hang in there!)” Her voice was pleasantly soft, almost melodic and matching her pretty face that seemed to enamor him.
Quickly, the rope’s yoke came to an end, and as his head cleared slowly, he nded firmly on his soles, though tumbled a little as a mild nausea followed crity. “Ssev?k megne. (Follow me.)” Slowly she led him out, though before they left the arboretum, he took one st glimpse at the bound and gagged Todica, and for a moment, he felt the spark of lust lit in his stomach. But he snuffed it with a deep breath and thought only of taking a cold shower and a bottle of whisky after this whole debacle.
***
“Nn nnph mnfm!” Gyrd tried to reprimand her fellow naurdian Sister, Una – but her words were distorted into muffled jumbles. A wide strip of glistening bck tape ran across her oval face just a bit above the gently curving jawline brushed by her unbuttoned mulberry and raven bck colrs. Her long braided tail stuck between themselves, pushing against the inid back of her Sister’s coat. The two stood back-to-back, tape circling around their bosom, abdomen, ankles, shapely thighs squealing in sync with their dragonid leather garments.
And to further complicate their matter, the enemy sealed their sight with three loops of tape around their shut eyes, each yer digging into their hair and half-elvish ears. Her muscles strained and ached from the hits she received on top of the great effort she – and her Sister Una – exerted to stay in pce in the room the two Federation Agents and the freed marines left them. Though at least, the shirt and the lining are pleasant to the touch. A soft whimper escaped her sealed lips as she vainly tried to loosen the tape. It crinkled and cramped at her efforts but remained in pce, pressing stoutly against her unblemished, soft and smooth skin. And she cursed the Sister who told her this practically urban legend.
Considering she was doing nothing more than just draining her stamina in tandem with the tight tape binding her to Una, Gyrd halted her meager struggle and pondered on the events that unfolded with a positive mindset. She ruminated on what she would have done differently, what she shall do the next time she finds herself in the exact situation that led to their current predicament of bound and gagged together.
Since the preceding days short battles fought against the marines’ onsught and effort to retake the small section of their vessel, the 20th of April was quite uneventful for the most part. She and Una were making their rounds, checking each vent and its hatch hinged up the ceiling with heightened senses. They smelled the odorless air that brought a mild relief, listened for the faint sounds of textile or metal scraping against metal, or even the whispers of the strange nguage neither really understood. Two hundred or so years passed since the first contact, and neither Faufniriaths understood the alien nguage. A bit of a shame I must admit to myself.
Then as the decided turn came where they were exchanging roles to look over the prisoners with Todica and Thorug, the two stepped into the room that now served as their momentary barless jail. A boring task needed to be done as they were quite frugal with the bindings. It was enough. That she was not wrong about. With their wrists and ankles secured, the tape already fulfilled the basic need to immobilize their enemies, the strips over their mouths made sure they could not plot an escape whilst also prevented their strange, limited spellcasting. Though that was the least of her worries in that moment.
An hour or so passed – maybe even less – with the two circling around, exchanging words on the worries of Una who experienced boarding and holding hostages for the first time in her hundred and twenty years of service, how her mind pyed tricks, hearing things manifested by her surreptitious mind. Gyrd wondered for a moment why did she enlist or at least why she chose the rank of Faufniriaths whose lives are entailed of perilous and portentous days. Although, she voiced them not out and instead just consoled her, gave her advice to focus and reminded her the prisoners won’t be able to break their bindings. “Not even an ogre could break free from it.” She assured her. And now Una could experience the durability of these bindings herself.
Near cessation of their talks unfolded the events leading to their present predicament. At first, she thought Yar’etzi the right hand of Neveniira arrived to check on them, but to her disappointment and slight horror, it was a man with the skin of the night sky speckled with the stars itself and a bipedal octopus with folds under her deep-set eyes and hair of tentacles. Both became translucent blurs rushing across the small distance like ravenous wraiths, and Una who gave the first shot colpsed amidst a soft grunt as the man’s fist pnted itself into her abdomen – quite forcefully as she heard her body fell against the thick window.
Gyrd herself managed to evade the first strike – or at least thought so. From what little she remembered; an inky bck cloud blinded her before a heavy drowsiness dragged her into unconsciousness. One where she was partially aware of the waking world as her dream coincided with reality to a certain extent. She dreamt of being heaved over a shoulder, then held by firm hands – that were gentler in the realm of dreams. She heard the soft scream of sealing tape, and whilst in the dreams it was her who pulled a wide open, in reality it was wrapped around her wrists and abdomen.
She even felt the moment her lips were sealed, though she could not remember the what it was transted to dreams beyond feeling mildly excited, in a sensuous way. This meager remembrance was enough to lit the fmes of pleasure, and a vague urge to touch herself. Not now. I shouldn’t have joined for this mission. Effort, she needed to yield herself, to stay in pce. An effort she could barely hold as she began to squirm in her bindings, and with her Una too began as she thought Gyrd renewed her effort for freedom.
***
Arrievar followed the distinct, muffled noise slowly journeying towards her long, sharp ears – its edges covered in scales. As she neared towards the leisure room, she sckened her pace, made careful steps so that the thick leathery soles of her boots made as little a thud as possible on the metallic floor that reflected her majestic form. Her round shield rested on her back; the double-edged axe seared with the anticipation of bloodletting – its twin edges burnt with crimson.
Well, well, well. What do we have here? When the door opened, the mostly empty leisure room revealed Isro crouching right across the entrance where Arrievar gently leaned against the frame. A wicked, but alluring smile adorned her lovely face whilst her burgundy red eyes focused on the still oblivious agent in the midst of securing Thorug with her own silver sealing tape which contrasted nicely the raven bck, lustrous matte coat. Widely wrapped, the tape tightened, dug in relentlessly to the enchanted, arcane-natured uniform which itself remained seamlessly smooth.
With a light cough, and fiddling with her own coat’s ring zipper dangling just at the elevation of her chestline, Isro turned around at first – for a reason that evaded her at that moment – thought the two of her comrades called out to her in jesting manner. “Hey there.” Arrievar said in an almost childish tone, expecting only that the agent understands the meaning of her drawn weapon and the inviting smile.
“Ygoh a úzsafzér Ylogab esc?p en enzevlé már notylof. (How I wish the Copper-Cocked Owl’s cock wouldn’t cum on me all the time.)” Though the meaning of Isro’s cursing evaded her, from the way she stood up hands curled into fists with her silenced pistol staring right at her, Arrievar stirred her arcane points with her grin widening.
Along with the pleasant twinging of her mana flowing, akin to a strong absinth flowing down her throat and spreading its warmth across her body during a harsh winter, Arrievar charged at Isro. The strap circling around her decorated front fp evaporated and the shield flew into her free left arm just as the rubber bullet reached her. With a loud, metallic thud it bounced off and fell impotent onto the floor, fttened by the boots’ sole.
Just as Isro was ready to dodge the incoming swing, feeling the piercing alert across her neck, she let out a surprised gasp when the dracorith before her vanished in a bluish bck cloud. Another curse left her lips as she ducked down, her senses heightened by her own enchanted uniform screaming once more that the bde was coming to take her neck.
At the same time, she swept her legs and a cry came from her this time as pained surged through her leg when it forcefully met the much sturdier of Arrievar who gleefully looked down at her, and with a kick of her own amplified by a spell, sent her across the room. Her body stopped its gliding on the smooth floor just at the precipice of the door, and using the distance created by her enemy, she quickly lifted her pistol miraculously still in her right hand, aimed and shot with the same breath. This time, she aimed at the head first, then quickly pulled her aim down at the nether region of the approaching Skjaldmaerith, and shot.
Though instead of shielding her prized hole, Arrievar vanished, then appeared swinging down the axe with an empowered force. The bde aimed to halve the agent nded in the floor, dug deep into the metal revealing rivulets of colorful cable separated. In retaliation and jolt of shock ran through the metal – and on this day, if not for the war and the situation, both the Federation and the Dominion could have discovered that adramantyrium was practically a highway for electricity. But as, that discovery shall have to wait for the conclusion of the war, and a possible mending of retions.
For now, what was sure for both that it hurt like hell. With gritted fangs, Arrievar pulled out and stumbled back and forth before a well calcuted hit from Isro sent the dracorith into the pleasant realm of dreams. Upon impact, Isro felt a mild tremor shake her body. Isro waited for a few more seconds as smoke arose from the coat and the visible unbuttoned colr of the dress shirt. Weirdly Arrievar’s fair skin, burgundy scale growths and dark hair with burgundy streaks remained unaffected retaliation of electrical cables, even looked a bit more lustrous. Still the faint crackling made her stay her hand from action.
After a minute or two she spent kicking the double-edged axe away, and finishing binding the winterborn faufniriath, Isro walked back and after hearing no more crackling, seeing no more smoke rising from the lustrous matte bckness, she kneeled down and searched through the slit pockets after fpping the concealment up, and retrieved the full roll of silver sealing tape. With great care – for her own safety – she slowly rolled Arrievar onto her sides and crossed her wrists, and began the securing of the Skjaldmaerith. Occasionally she stopped to listen, not wanting to chance being surprised once more – or twice.
By the time Sepurcia awoke, Dhairon and Isro were halfway done with binding Yar’etzi sitting on her left, whilst Arrievar’s lids remained shut, her dark silken locks all leaning forwards, towards her chest line and her bck taped sealed cheeks buried into her opened colrs. There was no surprise present in Sepurcia’s gaze, instead gdness for the mercy decreed upon them by their enemies. Though the circling tape clinging tightly to her skin and hair wasn’t pleasant. Neither were the broad loops adhering unyieldingly to her abdomen, wrists ankles and thighs, but the yers of sleek garments lessened those woes a bit.
Not long after Isro defeated Arrievar, the two made their way towards the leisure room after the lights on the corridors’ flickered for a moment. Their senses but armed them of their prisoners’ escape, and for a moment Sepurcia ruminated at the nearest turn whether she should head towards where she sensed Arrievar and the faint presence of Isro, or to intercept the sneaking marines freed from their bindings. In the end, she made the former as her decision when Yar’etzi ran into her.
The two rushed to the leisure room to capture the agent, whom they found just as she concluded binding their Sister. Yat’etzi circled slowly around the human agent with a sapphire blue complexion, her long sword’s tip pointed and ready to dig into the lustrous uniform cd body. Advising her against it was a regret of hers as she fidgeted into a slightly more comfortable position, as it brought enough time for Dhairon and Mnahuikarol to catch up to them.
The two fared quite well against the lone agent as it was expected, though she proved quite nimble as she easily evaded the swings and thrusts aimed at her limbs and joints. Even as Yar’etzi was wreathed in a hasting aura that made her resemble a vague, blurring silhouette. Though Sepurcia could feel a bit proud as she managed to nd a single hit, right into the abdomen of the agent who flew across the room and nded against the window. It was mostly thanks to the merfolk’s spell that spread a thin yer of water out of nothingness on the floor, and led to the agent’s fumbling and tumbling over – almost.
But as the cruel fate willed it, the other two Federation Agents caught up, and Mnabuikarol released a thick cloud of inky mist from her body, infused with her combined mana and will to blind the two seasoned warriors. Considerable effort and a low-high grade spell were needed for both to see beyond the interminable bckness, giving enough time for Dhairon to aim and shoot. Her breast still ached from the first shot that nded right in a loop of frogging and almost deprived her of her bance.
Though her resilience and the healing enchantments woven into her uniforms swiftly acted and she remained on foot, aware as one can be in utter darkness. Against her better judgement, she yelled out for Yar’etzi who by that time kissed the floor, as the distantly fellow aquatic Mnabuikarol stole past the darkness she called forth her body, and with her fist infused and wreathed in a raging storm of spell knocked her out cold.
A much simir fate awaited Sepurcia who stood still, straining her senses, relying not on her sight but hearing and smelling. The tter which was only mildly bit more useful than her sight. Neither of the three agents’ produced any scent thanks to their simirly arcane natured uniform drinking up their perspirations. But thanks to her hearing, she managed to duck down in time to evade a well-aimed rubber bullet aimed at her nape veiled by choppy locks of her deep chestnut colored dense hair and the colr which arose high with the pels infused to its upper edges.
In the end, it was Isro fist that delt the blow, wreathed in a simirly sleep-inducing storm of spells spewing etheric clouds of pink, purple and sapphire – just like her smooth skin – alongside a pleasant aroma she likened to her homend’s sweet woodnd fruits. Her cheek still bore the aching, and the mark of her fist, though now hidden by the smooth textured tape of a slight metallic textile finish.
Her sight focused on the endless expanse of void beyond the wide, high paneled window, to the distant stars glittering in the yawning bckness inducing a bit of drowsiness. Or maybe it is the remnants of her spell. She thought upon noticing Isro finish binding her merfolk Sister. Bearing her perfectly white teeth, she bit onto the stretched-out tape, and severed a wide strip before fixing it onto the scaly teal or right blue cheeks and the wide, soft lips that now drawn out in the center of the precisely pced tape.
For a moment their gazes met and she noticed the same hate many of their enemies reflected. Her own showed a bit of kindness and gratefulness for not killing them, even knowing they served now the same purpose as they pnned for the brave marines of the Federation. Though Isro acknowledged not neither, simply she left the four bound and gagged Bck Roses as they prepared to confront the st of them – and for a moment, Sepurcia offered a muffled prayer to the three.
***
“Finally.” Neveniira excimed proudly kneeling in the center of a series of triangles, circles and runes when she made the st stroke. The aching of her back slowly faded thanks to her long coat’s healing, and as she let out a relief filled sigh, another followed. One more out of annoyance. I guess we underestimated the enemy. Before her closed eyes, she saw the all her comrades scattered around the back section, most unconscious and all bound and gagged with their own sealing tapes. And the culprits slowly made their way, their faces calm but on Isro and Mnahuikarol’s stances she could gnce a bit of their trepidation, hesitancy.
Probably had the chance to meet with one of my caliber. Neveniira thought with a faint smile, feeling proud the fear the two may have thought about her. Still there was a bit of dread within her heart, sensing her dwindling mana lowering her chances for victory. Carefully, she arose onto her feet, then folded down her coat’s oversized colr, letting it sprawl over the shoulders and the chest line. A slight twist of her neck left and right – cracking it loudly – soothed the mild aching of it, then she took a deep breath.
Just have to take them down before they can reach five steps ahead of me. With that positive thought repeated in her head whilst also raking her brain for the proper spells still within grasp, Neveniira locked her hands, palms facing upwards, fingers entwined. Her chest rose back and forth as she waited, before her closed eyes she saw clearly the corridor and the shut door, on both sides of it the agents murmuring their pns to take her down hastily.
Maybe… no even if I chug it down, it is already too te. Waiting, she opened one eye and gnced towards the slit pocket at her right waist. In it vast, expanded space there remained one more – or well a quarter – of a mana potion. Part of her regretted the sudden decision, even though she was well aware it would do little. Mana potions needed time to break down into ethereal form and replenish the expended mana, time which no longer was on her side. One or two spells is all I need to take them down. Nothing more, nothing less.
Subconsciously she blew a few loose strands, guided them back to their pce amongst the silken flock with her fingers. The three now appeared ready to enter. Her heart was drumming with anticipation, expecting to gaze right into the bck hole of their pistol’s barrels. Mana flowed through the arcane veins of her soul and body, in the liminal space of mortal vessels, waiting for the st ingredient, her mind, will sculpted spell to manifest. Yet the climax had to wait as the three remained with their backs against the wall, drawing up one more pn in case their first three or four fails. Maybe probably more. She scoffed to herself.
In slow whispers the three went through their new, fourth tactic to quickly incapacitate the sorceress of the Voidfarers, whilst said sorceress began to regret not chugging one of her remaining mana potions. I can’t bme them, I guess. Left brow raised, she pondered with her arms folded before her chest. Then at st, the long awaited and almost forgotten hiss of the door rang through the air mingled with the thuds of rushing steps. A few bullets left their silenced barrels, heading towards Neveniira who swept her right arm widely. Suddenly, all three lost their bance whilst rushing, and felt the floor slip beneath them, their bodies hurling towards the wall which seemed to be rotating.
Then Dhairon groaned, Mnahuikarol screeched loudly as a torrent of hardened air thrusted into their abdomen, sending them towards the open door. A queer feeling lingered in their minds and hearts, close to nausea but not quite that, as they nded on the once again floor. Isro herself managed to dodge the barely visible attack. Neveniira clicked her tongue loudly, feeling frustrated and sensing the distant sauntering mencholy nearing as her mana reserves slowly burn out to nothing. Now she even regretted not asking for the aid of another, but that had to wait.
One more spell. She focused her mind, then warped the space of the room once more, all three began to scurry towards the door as the metallic floor sunken, fallen into itself forming an ever-sprawling vortex. With each passing moment as it expanded, they run and turned, their muscles burning as they felt the invisible weights pulling them down and into the seemingly interminable depths. Panicking a bit, Mnabuikarol aimed blindly and shot and as if the Gods seen her struggles and pitied her and her comrades, guided the bullet that it at first bounced off the ceiling, than nded in the lush hair covered nape of Neveniira, knocking her out as the microscopic needles injected a strong sedative into her nervous system.
Upon her falling face first into the center of the circle she worked on for the better part of a day, the vacuuming chasm before them ceased to exist, the room returned to its normal state. In unison, a sigh escaped their lips and the two dies stood over the sorceress, sealing tape in their hands already.
Author's Note:
And another one. The longest piece of this work and the month with a variety of scenarios.
The first one, a bit disturbing with two damsels left in the company of rotting corpses, which honestly on a few occasions wanted to change. Mostly out of logical reasons as in one version the idea was they incinerated the corpses. But the first version stuck, as it felt a bit more artistic and gruesome in a way.
Then a bit of lewd stuff to introduce another agent before moving onto one simply inspired by this piece of bondage artwork/manga piece and one I wanted to make before hand into a full chapter, and will do possibly in the next year.
The Skjaldmaerith and Neveniira parts were cut down a bit as I didn't want this to be any longer and in all honesty, my mind already wandered onto the third story so I finished this up a bit hastily. I wanted a closing segment with Neveniira being dragged bound and gagged to the others, and have a st sweeping recounting of all the Bck Rose damsels as the closing segment.
Now in regards of the future, I'll just shortly mention that I pn to segregate the scenarios into one category of their own I titled as of now as Bound Diaries. Scenarios featuring captured, bound and gagged characters, mostly Bck Roses, Snow Scaled Host and the Four Myelian Sect Members, maybe a few of the other agencies spies in sticky situations. Probably for the first two or three months of next year I start with these as I began to work on the long, short novel story I want to release in spring at least. Maybe June or July we'll see.
Anyhow, that is enough rambling for this one. Thank you for reading this and the next one will be up next weekend, closing the year with a story featuring Faenia in the trail of an escaped Federation agent - a child of both worlds.
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