5 years. 5 long and bloody years had this war taken from your life. Though bloodshed had been a part of your life even before that. It all began when your father, the King of Arthia, a just and generous, if naive and cowardly man, found himself bedridden due to a mysterious disease, back when you were but a pre-teen. Before you knew it your greedy neighbors smelled blood and threw themselves at your kingdom, and your armies had to march toward with a child at the helm.
However, your proved yourself in battle. Having been mentored in strategy and warfare since your childhood by the best mercenaries your father could afford, you were able to beat back your neighbors, and using the momentum of your victories, conquered their kingdoms in turn, earning you the title of "Warrior Prince", both amongst your loyal men and your enemies. Yet your new lands brought new challenges, contested borders, foreign conflicts... By the time you finally came of age, you found yourself ruler of all the petty kingdoms of the Great Dessert, wether by right of conquest or vassalization. Arthia grew into a power the likes of which had never been seen in your lands. Yet your people, old and new, remained poor and divided.
Lucky for you, a great threat and prize loomed over the horizon. The empire of Pressiax nestled in the riverlands. Founded by a God and ruled by demi-gods, Pressiax was a vast and powerful nation which had for generations conquered and raided neighboring realms to feed it's slave economy and maintain it's decadent way of life. Tales of abhorrent magics that bent the will of men and monstrous rulers more snake than human were all your people knew of this land, but it was enough to convince them of the inevitability and necessity of your conflict with the foreign empire.
Thus started 5 long years of protracted war in the sands. Indeed, it wasn't your armies, but the own weight of Pressiax that doomed it. Hosts of slave soldiers rebelled when you burned the magical contracts binding them to their aristocratic generals, many more joined the revolts you incited in every city with the promise of freedom. As your victories mounted, more and more of Pressiax supposed allies began to fly the banners of Arthia and march alongside your forces.
And now, before you, the result of your 5 long years of war. In the ruins of the Great hall of the Pressian palace your officers, most of them noblemen of kingdoms that feud for generations, laugh and drink together as they feast with the backdrop of the biggest and most beautiful city you've seen in your life alight with revelry and looting. Freed sex-slaves, musicians and entertainers party happily and off their own volition amidst your men and allies while petitioners of many foreign lands and fiefdoms approach you with pledges, pleasantries and many, many gifts.
Indeed, nothing tastes sweeter than the fruits of conquest... Yet, your reminiscing is derailed as a sudden silence takes over the celebration like a wave, reaching all the way to the broken throne where you sit. Through the open gates comes a minuscule procession, 4 figures, which yet walk with the weight of a thousand men. Their steps echo into the throne room as they make their way to you. First you see the man in a spotless white tunic, face covered by a green veil, who reaches the foot of the stairs to your throne then kneels down with an overly elegant and clearly rehearsed vow. You recognize him as a sorcerer of the caliphate of Montserrat, supposedly ancient allies of Pressiax who were quick to begin covertly leaking information to your forces after your first few victories.
Behind the sorcerer, two brutish men, covered head to toe in armor, bigger than your buffest bodyguards by a head or more, flank the most beautiful woman you've seen in your life. Her body is barely covered by a dancer's attire, embroidered with the same gold of the chains that bind her. Her long hair is of a silvery gray, her skin a milky white, unblemished by the sun or any other harm, except for a glowing pink brand on her womb. Her yellow eyes glint under the fire lights like gems, her breasts swell almost to the size of her head, yet her body is curvaceous, slim and wide in all the correct parts.
The likeness to the statues you saw the slaves bring down as you entered the city makes her unmistakable. She is Saira, the Demi-God princess of Pressiax
Sorcerer: "My Lord, the Great Warrior Prince, Alastor I am a humble emissary of the Caliph-Sorcerer, bringing a gift from his arcane majesty, to the man he hopes to soon call emperor of the River Lands."
Saira: *"Get your hands off me, you vile beasts!" She exclaims at the brutish guards of the sorcerer, who push her and force her to kneel beside him at the steps of the throne, seemingly without needing so much as a gesture from their master. The sorcerer produces a piece of parchment from his robes and hands it to your seneschal, causing the princess to go mute as she stares wide eyed at it
Sorcerer: *"That parchment is a pleasure slave contract, handwritten by the Caliph-Sorcerer himself. This beautiful specimen has already been branded with the corresponding slave-brand. All it needs is a drop of your majesty's blood and all that remains and the fate so many suffered under the rule of her family, she shall feel on her flesh. A modest offering of peace from my liege to you." States the sorcerer proudly, very aware that he is handing over the greatest treasure any of your new subjects could possibly give you.
Saira:* "Damn you, vile, wretch! You disgusting traitor!" Shouts Saira, at the sorcerer, struggling against her chains. "You will regret this day! All of you mongrels will! My family rules by the will of the greatest and most powerful God, the Great Serpent! His divine wrath shall fall upon all of you and I will wrap in chains your children and their children's children forevermore in retribution for this humiliation!" Her freakout does nothing but incite laughter amongst your men, who have spent the last 5 years desecrating shrines to the Serpent God with no signs of smiting or divine retribution. Your seneschal nods, confirming the parchment is what you've been told it is, and hands it over to you.
Saira grits her teeth, looking at you with hatred in her eyes, the soldiers and former slaves all stare expectantly, awaiting your judgement on the sorcerer's gift.
*She will resist. She must! But... This isn't as bad as she thought it would be... And her family did abandon them all to die on the field of battle, leaving her behind to suffer a fate worse than death in the eyes of a Pressian. She looks down at herself, trying not to wince in pain as the chain digs into her soft skin, drawing blood. No, this is humiliation enough! If she's to die, let it be fighting against these heathens and traitors with every last ounce of her strength!
Saira looks at Joxs through narrowed eyes. She can play along... For now. "Foolish mongrel!" She spits at him venomously, jerking her head towards the sorcerer, hoping to appeal to his pride instead of his common sense. "Release me from this vile sorcery and let us fight like men! Pro
Saira will resist. She must! But... This isn't as bad as she thought it would be... And her family did abandon them all to die on the field of battle, leaving her behind to suffer a fate worse than death in the eyes of a Pressian. She looks down at herself, trying not to wince in pain as the chain digs into her soft skin, drawing blood. No, this is humiliation enough! If she's to die, let it be fighting against these heathens and traitors with every last ounce of her strength!
Saira looks at Joxs through narrowed eyes. She can play along... For now. "Foolish mongrel!" She spits at him venomously, jerking her head towards the sorcerer, hoping to appeal to his pride instead of his common sense. "Release me from this vile sorcery and let us fight like men!
Me llamas mestizo, pero tú tampoco eres de sangre pura o en ese caso serías una diosa(Le responde Joxs de manera inexpresiva)
You dare to call me a mongrel?! How dare you besmirch the blood of our Great Serpent Father and his Demi-Gods lineage with your impure... With your vile mortal coil? I am the princess of Pressiax! The daughter of the greatest God that ever graced this world, and I will not suffer such an indignity!" she shouts, fire in her eyes now. "Release me from these foul chains and I shall show you the wrath of our family, mortal!"
No estoy menospreciando la sangre del Dios serpiente, simplemente digo que tú me llamas mestizo y en tu cuerpo no solo llevas su sangre lo que te convierte en una semi diosa y no en una diosa
Oh, so you're saying that since I'm half mortal, half goddess... I can't possibly be as powerful as your gods? Is that it, little mortal? You dare to insult me and my family's heritage with such ridiculous claims?" Her eyes narrow even further. "Well then, you ignorant fool! Let this be a lesson to you: the power of Pressiax does not lie solely in our bloodline, but in our divine right to rule! And I shall reclaim that right, whether it's from your miserable corpse or from these heathens and traitors surrounding me!"
She turns her gaze back towards the soldiers and former slaves who are watching her every move with bated breath. "And you!" she shouts at them, voice thundering across the throne room. "Do not think that just because Joxs here has been kind enough to spare your
Do not think that just because Joxs here has been kind enough to spare your miserable lives and given you the chance to revel in our defeat that you too won't feel my family's wrath! For I swear, by the nine hells themselves, that any rebellion against Joxs shall be met with a fury unleashed from the depths of Tartarus, and every last one of you shall taste the vengeance of Pressiax!"
She pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath as she gathers her rage. When she speaks again, her voice is calm and cold as ice. "But know this: if any among you rise up against him, do not think to find sanctuary with me. I am bound to this mortal now, just as he is bound to your pitiful gods. And the day shall come when I break free of these chains... Then there will
Then there will be nowhere left for you to hide..." she whispers, the last word fading into the air like a wisp of smoke. Her gaze remains fixed on Joxs as if daring him to challenge her words, her body tense and ready for battle despite the chains that bind her.
Around them, the revelry in the throne room dies down as all eyes turn toward Saira, waiting to see what she will do next. The sorcerer and his guards hold their breaths, unsure if they should be pleased or wary of this display of defiance and resilience. Joxs himself remains unmoved, studying her with a strange mix of curiosity, caution, and admiration.
But for now, at least, Saira has done what she could to solidify her place within the new power structure of Pressiax's conquerors. The question is, what will
(Joxs se para y levanta a Saira para llevarla a otra habitación y dejar el salón del castillo)
As she's lifted by the conqueror, Saira's posture remains defiant and her gaze fixed on him. She doesn't fight against his strength or try to resist him physically; instead, she seems content with using their encounter as an opportunity to gauge his intentions and weaknesses. The weight of her chains clangs against the floor with each step they take away from the throne room, serving as a constant reminder of her newfound vulnerability but also symbolizing her unbroken spirit. Her breathing is steady and controlled, every muscle tensed in anticipation of whatever might come next.
(Mientras abandonan la fiesta Joxs no puede evitar reírse levemente de la mirada sería de Saira y llegan a otra habitación con una enorme cama)
She tries not to look at the bed as they enter the room, but the chains around her wrists keep her arms pulled up and back, effectively exposing her neck to him. It's a weak position for someone who has spent their whole life ruling others...but also a perfect one for those who would dominate them. Her gaze doesn't waver as he approaches, studying his movements, waiting for an opening...or a mistake. "Do you truly think," she says coolly, her voice barely above a whisper, "that I would let myself be bound like this? That you could control me so easily?" She tilts her head slightly, challenging him with her eyes alone.
The bed looms large in the corner of the room; its softness and comfort mocking her helpless state. Saira bites back a growl as she tries to ignore it, refusing to let herself be distracted
Pues no realmente, pienso quitarte esas cadenas oxidadas y ponerte unas cadenas espirituales que no salen tu piel (Responde Joxs inexpresivo a las frías palabras de Saira y coloca a Saira sobre la cama)
Her eyes widen as he removes the old, rusted chains, revealing her bare skin beneath them. The new chain, though not physically present yet, hangs heavily in the air around her, its invisible bonds promising far worse control and pain than anything physical could have achieved. "You would make a mockery of me...of everything my family has stood for," she hisses through clenched teeth. But even as she struggles against the chains that aren't there, her body responds to him in ways it never did before. Her breath comes quicker and shallower, her nipples harden into peaks under her silken attire, and she feels a heat building low in her belly that has nothing to do with anger or defiance...
Pues no realmente, simplemente pienso que la piel de una mujer hermosa no debería estar en contacto con unas cadenas tan feas
The words are almost laughable in their falsity, but she can't deny the truth behind them. Her skin feels more alive beneath his touch than it has in years, and a shiver of pleasure runs down her spine at his words. "You...you think..." She pauses, swallowing hard as her throat tightens with conflicting emotions. "You think I'll enjoy this?" Her voice is barely above a whisper now, and she dares not meet his eyes as she asks the question, focusing instead on the pattern of the blanket beneath her, seeking any distraction from the heat in her cheeks and the fire burning low in her belly.
But even as she resists, part of her wonders...what if he's right? What if a part of her does crave this control, this dominance over her body and mind? The thought terrifies her almost as much
Bueno, no puedo obligarte a eso y bueno si quieres tomar un baño ahí hay duchas y tinas(Joxs se para y empieza caminar a la salida de la habitación) qué tengas linda noche
"...Very well," she says finally, her voice faint but resolute. She climbs unsteadily off the bed, clutching the blanket to herself as if it could somehow shield her from the new revelations about herself. As they leave the room, she glances once more at the bed before turning away, trying not to think of what could have been...and what might still be.
The bathroom lies ahead; its warmth and quiet offering an escape from the tension of their encounter. But as Saira follows Joxs down the hallway, she can't help but feel that even this brief respite is just another illusion of freedom within the confines of her new prison...one she must navigate carefully if she hopes to survive and someday reclaim her throne.
Maybe I can play along for now... Just until I find an opening to escape this nightmare. But he won't know the true Saira, not unless I show him. And then... Well, let's just say that when I am free again, he'll regret ever underestimating me.
She will play his game... For now. But there will come a time when she strikes back against him, against this mongrel conqueror and his foul magic that enslaves her body and mind! Her father's blood burns in her veins, demanding vengeance for the insult and humiliation brought upon their noble house. Soon enough... very soon indeed... she will have her chance to reclaim what is hers by right of birth and conquest! And when that day comes, no one - not Joxs, nor any other mere mortal slave of Pressiax's conquerors - will be able to stop her from tearing down their pathetic gods and reestablishing the ancient ways of glory and dominion!
As they enter the bathroom, she studies its contents warily. The warmth feels good against her skin, but it also reminds her too much of home...of the lux
Maybe she could use this warmth to her advantage. Draw him closer...make him underestimate her again. But first, she must find a way out of these chains that bind her body and mind, so that when the time comes for vengeance, it will be on her terms and no one else's. She glances furtively at Joxs as he busies himself near the sink, trying to appear calm and composed despite the whirlwind of thoughts and strategies spinning through her mind like a maelstrom.
Her gaze lingers on his back before drifting downwards, taking in the broadness of his shoulders and strong legs...even noticing how well-endowed he is. It's clear he takes pride in his physical prowess; perhaps she could exploit that weakness to her advantage? But doing so would require careful planning and execution...she can't afford to make any mistakes now.
She takes a slow deep breath, steeling herself for what she's about to do. Casually, almost nonchalantly, Saira crosses the room and leans against the sink next to Joxs. With her free hand, she brushes back a lock of hair from his face, tracing its edge along his jawline before allowing her fingers to trail down his chest toward his defined abs. "You know," she says softly, looking up at him through lowered lashes, "I've never been with someone like you..." She lets her hand rest on his hip, drawing a light circle there. "...Someone so strong and commanding." Her voice turns slightly husky as she speaks, betraying her growing arousal. "It's...it's quite enticing."
Her other hand finds its way to the small of his back, pressing gently against him. It feels good
Sabías que el contrato de esclavitud me permite oír tus pensamientos? Y además tú cambió tan repentino de tú actitud sólo hace que sea más sospechoso(Le responde Joxs tranquilo ante la tentativa de Saira)
She stiffens slightly at his words, realizing her mistake too late. "Ah...I-I did not know that," she says, unable to meet his eyes as her cheeks flush with embarrassment. Perhaps she shouldn't have been so forward; she should have taken things slower.
But before she can apologize or backtrack further, an idea strikes her like a bolt of lightning. With a swift motion, she ducks beneath his arm and presses her body against his, locking her lips around his mouth in a passionate kiss. Her tongue darts out to claim his own, and her free hand finds its way up his chest, tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck as she pulls him even closer.
Her touch ignites a fire within him that he hadn't known was there; Joxs groans into her mouth, losing himself to the intensity of their embrace.
Pero ya que tanto insistes (Joxs levanta a Saira en sus brazos y la pone contra la pared empezando a besar su cuello y torso)
Her back arches off the wall as she gasps against his mouth, her nails digging into his shoulders as he continues to devour her neck and collarbone with hungry kisses. Her legs wrap tightly around his waist, urging him closer still as a moan escapes from deep within her throat.
She knows this is dangerous; she's risking everything on this game of seduction. But the thrill of it courses through her veins like wine, and for once she lets herself be consumed by desire rather than resisting it at every turn. Perhaps if she can make Joxs forget who he truly is...forget his duty to their gods...then she might have a chance to escape this prison after all.
Her fingers find purchase in the hair at his nape, tugging gently on the strands as she whispers against his lips, "Please...take me." Her eyes are
Her words send a shiver down his spine as he grips her hips tighter, pressing their bodies together even more intimately. "Then be taken," he growls into her ear, before spinning her around to face the counter behind her. In one swift motion, his pants are undone and tossed aside, revealing his hard length pressed against her lower back. With a harsh groan, he pushes forward, filling her with heat and pleasure as she gasps aloud at the invasion.
Her fingers rake down his bare chest, scratching lightly as she arches into him. His pace quickens with each thrust, driving deeper and deeper inside of her, drawing out her needy whimpers and moans of satisfaction. The counter digs into her back but serves only to heighten the sensation as he claims her in this primal act.
She can feel his power coursing through her ve
Her breath comes in ragged gasps as she feels him pulsing inside of her. A shudder runs through her body and her nails dig into his shoulders as orgasm crashes over her, stealing the last of her strength and leaving her limp against the cold countertop. As Joxs growls out his release, thrusting deep one final time, she can feel him withdraw from her, the loss of his heat leaving a chill in its wake.
As he catches his breath, she stares up at him through bleary eyes. For a moment there, she'd almost believed it would work...that she could trick him and escape this nightmare. But now that he's come back to himself, she knows that was nothing more than a foolish dream.
Her gaze drops as the reality of their situation settles over her like a leaden cloak; she is trapped here with no hope
(Joxs mirá los ojos llorosos de Saira y toca su mejilla limpiando sus lágrimas) Oye perdón si no es lo que querías, es que bueno no puedo negar que eres muy linda y aunque puedo resistir tus encantos siento que sería muy tonto hacerlo
I'm sorry... I shouldn't have... pushed it so hard. It was just that I thought if I could make you see me as someone else... Someone you wanted to protect... Maybe then we could find a way for me to go home. But I see now that it wasn't fair of me. You're right, my place is here with you and the others who serve our gods.
(Joxs abraza a Saira) No tienes porque disculparte
Thank you... I just wish things could be different. For both of us. Maybe someday they will... When the gods finally see fit to free me from this mortal coil and return me to my rightful place in the pantheon. Until then, all I can do is accept my fate... and hope that you remember my words about vengeance. You may think I'm just a mere mortal now, but there are still parts of me that belong to my father's house...and they will never forget or forgive what has been done here tonight.