The room wasn?t very tall, so as she dangled from her wrists by chained manacles, her toes only missed touching by inches. That?s what she thought she remembered, anyway. She couldn?t stifle the muffled little sobs, her shoulders aching ferociously from where she had bucked and writhed, unable to escape. Her head drooped, as did her ears, as the Red Lady had left the room just a moment ago, calling out to her other slaves for a bath. Her pretty white sundress wasn?t so pretty anymore, nor so white. There were patches of pink, darker pink, and quite a few were crimson, and growing. She had never, never known this much pain, as the Red Lady paid her back for what seemed like every missed swing from their duel, and any other duel she?d lost to anybody ? then she went back, and did it all over again, and again, and then a fourth time, looking like she was drinking in the cries like a fine red wine. Every breath was an agony, since she thought (when that was a possibility) she?d heard things go pop and crack a couple times. And that was just today. She knew that if she could feel it through the pain, her fur would be itching like crazy from all the matting.

She didn?t even want to start thinking of what was causing the matting. She?d already come close to blacking out a few times now, but the Red Lady didn?t let her. The collar still chafing her neck kept spearing bright pain into her brain, not letting her succumb to exhaustion. Her eyes felt raw, and her cheek and jaw throbbed from the single time she?d spoken. She?d screamed out one word, a question filled with desperation. And she?d gotten a very brief respite from new pain, as the Red Lady smirked, letting the silence build. She watched the pain-stick get sheathed, but that just wound up being where the back of a red armored gauntlet, brimming with little steel spikes, swung upward from, crashing into her face. Stars had exploded in her eyes, as she tasted fresh blood. She shivered as she remembered the sweetly sinister voice. ?Because, I can.? Then the pain-stick got shoved into her belly button.

Oh gods, it felt like something was clawing her tummy into chunks. She just knew that she?d see her insides crawling out of her when she looked down, but no. She wasn?t going to die that way ? just feel like it.

She thought her shoulders might be tearing apart when the Red Lady returned, wearing fresh red leather. Over the smells of sweat, fear, and blood, she smelled clean soap and water. When the cold eyes fell on her, she mewled plaintively, her eyes begging.

With a smile filled with nothing but cruelty, the Red Lady spoke. ?I?ve decided it?s time for a treat, Kitten.? Her mouth went dry, and her insides felt like water. She?d heard those words already, when they?d first arrived. An old man, who looked about half-dead already, provided the ?treat?. And the only one to enjoy it had been the Red Lady, as she?d told him to stand very, very still, while she put the pain-stick?s tip into his ear. His howl made her wince, but it was the crunching sound when he stopped that made her cower and whimper. Seeing the Red Lady smile and shiver when she yanked out the dripping half of the foot-long rod she?d shoved in the old man?s head ? she came dangerously close to soiling herself then. And when the old man crumpled like a rag doll, her stomach revolted. But that was then.

This is now. ?It?s just a little treat, Kitten. I can?t have you dying on me just yet. We?ve so much more to experience, before I let that happen.? She whimpered, as a quiet voice in her head, something in the back of her mind began chanting to the rhythm of her heartbeat. She watched the Red Lady come closer, then cried out as her hair got yanked viciously. Tug, tug, tug, back and forth, it felt like someone was trying to cut her hair with a dull butter-knife. She mewled, as the Red Lady lost patience, and yanked the last bit of hair right out of her head. Her vision blurry, she shivered and sobbed, as she watched her pretty hair, with a bit of it still bloody, get put into a box and sent out of the room.

? I wanna go home ?

Slowly, so she could watch, the Red Lady drew her pain-stick.

? I wanna go home ?

The humming got louder and louder, as the tip drew ever closer to her ear. ?Remember, Kitten. Hold very still, or this will do more than hurt.?

?I wanna go home ? I wanna go home ? I wanna go home ?

Her heart thundered in her chest as she fought down that natural instinct to flick her ear and drive that humming away.

?I wanna go home ? I wanna go home ? I wanna go home ?

Faster and faster, that unspoken wish echoed in her mind. She trembled as she hung there, her breath coming in painful pants that she couldn?t help.

?I wanna go home ? I wanna go home ? I wanna go home ?

Then the tip ? touched. Pain, agony, and suffering all exploded in her head.

I WANNA GO HOME!!!!!

She was fairly sure she?d screamed, but ? it was quiet. No echoes. And dark. She let her eyes flick open.

Paradise watched as Misty went limp in her bonds. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she fought against her orders to be still. The collar tightened about her throat, and again, she fell to the ground, choking. Oh gods, Misty. I?m sorry.

Oh gods. It was the Fur?za. She fell to her knees, hoping this wasn?t a dream. She crawled, then forced herself up and ran to the airlock, tapping in her code. The door opened, and a whoosh of clean, cool air puffed out. She smiled, and slowly limped inside. She knew every twist and turn, making her careful way to her quarters, letting her fingertips run over the walls and bulkheads of her home. She could feel all that pain just melting away. She stood straighter, walked easier, breathed deeper. She was home.

The door to her quarters opened, and she wept from the scent of the moji-bush in the corner, just coming in to bloom. She felt peaceful ? calm ? serene. She was home.

?I?s home.? Just a whisper of sound in the stillness. So quiet. But enough. Her neck prickled, then stung, and then burned with raw pain. Her eyes shot wide, and she whirled around to the mirror to see a fleeting glimpse of the collar, still around her throat, before the picture ? changed.

Her breath hitched, as her fingertips dug at the collar, watching the mirror. It showed her, still hanging from that chain, limp and unmoving, as Paradise laid on the floor, making gagging noises and clawing at her throat. The Red Lady crooked a finger, and Paradise stood, with tears streaming down her bruised and marred face, moaning wordlessly, the seared stump of her tongue still raw and tender in her mouth. Haltingly, Paradise?s arm rose, the flickering sparks of her power starting to build. In her mind, she heard a sorrowful echo.

I?m ? I?m so very sorry, my friend. She ? she won?t ? let me let ? you go. In the mirror, Paradise wailed as her fingers touched the limp furred chest, and electricity arced from her fingertips. In her chest, a feeling of burning fire flared in her heart, her body going rigidly taut. Unable to stop herself, she fell toward the mirror ?

And through, her eyes snapping open with a deep gasp. All the pain that had melted away hammered at her once more as she flopped like a hooked fish in her bonds, her ribs feeling like spears on her lungs. She felt, more than heard, the dull sounds of boot impacting flesh, and Paradise?s ragged, harsh cries.

?No, Kitten. You will not be leaving me that easily.?

Deep, pitiful, ragged sobs bubbled up in her throat, as she hung her head down, and wept. Even after the sound of a softly closing door reached her ears, she wept. And when the guards came to take her down, and dump her and Paradise in the moldy room, leaving her to lie face-up in the shallow film of water, rapidly tinged pink around her, she continued to weep.

Paradise was forced against the wall, a single order to stay forbidding her to move away from the unbearable dripping of water upon her skull. Hour after hour, she watched her dear friend, unable to move, unable to comfort. Hands pressed against her stomach, trying to hold in the searing pain from her recent beating. Breath came in little gasps, waves of pain wracking her.

A memory of pain.

Paradise?s head came up as Tala entered the room. Despite the matting of her hair, the bruises that covered her torso and face, she sneered. ?Oh look, Misty. The coward?s decided to visit us again.?

Tala simply ignored Paradise, as usual, but that didn?t mean the fiery red head was going to give up. ?Only dishonorable cowards take slaves and beat them. What?s wrong, sweetheart, did your daddy not get you that pony you wanted??

Misty sent a mental warning, shaking her head back and forth, eyes wide in terror, but Paradise ignored her. She kept that scowl on her face, even as Tala hauled her to her feet. A single gauntleted backhand had her spitting blood, facial wounds bleeding again. Tala moved for Misty, and she barked out a laugh. ?It figures. You can?t shut me up, so you?ll beat up on her.?

Tala turned, and motioned for one of the guards. Not a single word had slipped from her lips yet, but a dark grin spread on her lips. Paradise was forced to her feet, and the guard held her steady. ?Open your mouth.?

The collar prevented her from disobeying, and Paradise could feel her jaws creak as Tala reached in and grabbed hold of her tongue. She began to struggle, but a single word forced her rigid again.

The knife flashed before her eyes, snicking downward. There was unbearable pain. Tala?s words crept through the haze of agony. ?Cauterize it.?

Fire rose in Paradise?s eyes, the sickening stench of her own burning flesh causing her to retch, her eyes to water. Tala strode off, dropping the bloody chunk of flesh into a box.

She could hear Misty weeping, as the sound of leather impacting on furred skin started again.

The memory faded, leaving a shudder behind. Though she could no longer speak, her words drifted through the connection. They?ll come for us, Misty. Though she would not allow the words to pass through the connection, a guarded corner of her mind spoke out.

?I hope??


Thanks to Paradise for helping me write, and to Tala for making sure everything was kosher!

"I will not be training you today," the Mord-Sith said and one would be tempted to sigh a breath of relief, but it would be entirely too foolish to think that they were not as dangerous as a double-edged blade. She had just had Misty brought up from the watery cell and dragged to one of her many torture rooms and now she was walking around the dangling form of the once-jovial Kirn, each step slow and meticulous so that her boots sounded in a rhythmic time against the stone floor. Misty's body was now a constant host to bruises, cuts, and Agiel-given burns and although most would not consider its physical state one of beauty, to the eyes of one such as Tala it was a thing of immense desire, its current vulnerability only feeding that insatiable hunger.

"I have some business to attend to that requires my absolute attention," she said as she rounded in front of her slave, coming to face her straight on as her hands came to rest, one over the over, down at her center. "But since I can not have you missing even one day of your training, I will be having some of my guards work on you. Now don't fret, my pet. They are quite capable at doing that which is required, although I am certain that you will feel the difference of the skill between their hands and mine."

She stepped forward so that the scent of freshly oiled leather and the clean smell of her skin could be close enough to offer the Kirn a passing whiff over the seemingly constant haze of blood, sweat, and tears that seemed to permeate from her own fur and a gloved hand was lifted to touch to the unmarred side of Misty's face, its loving stroke the wickedest of contradictions when compared to everything that their encounters had consisted of thus far. "Do try to behave, Kitten, and know that there is only one thing that which I require from you while I am gone and it will be the only thing that will bring your mind any form of peace while they train you." Another step now and Tala was just a breath away from that beautifully pitiful face, her own head canted downward at the slightest of angles to give them a more intimate feeling despite the illusion of what it truly was, her lips all but brushing with each word. "I want you to think of me." Her voice had taken on suddenly more sultry tone, playing along with her features in an oddly sensual manner as her thumb stroked across the high ridge of Misty's cheek. She stared directly into her slave's eyes, letting her see the raw truth that was the desire of that command, before she just simply turned and walked away, stepping through the open archway just before the trained guards entered after her, weapons of torture in hand.

For the next six hours, the Mord-Sith relaxed in her private quarters while listening to the screams of the helpless Kirn. She enjoyed a long hot bath, carefully cleaning the beautiful hair that made that her braid, and washed the scent of blood-oiled leather from her skin. She then reclined on the large voluptuous bed at the center of the room, her eyes drifting closed as she relished in those delectable cries as they ricocheted off of the walls of the twisting hallways to echo through the room like the music of a symphony within her ears. But once the allotted time was over, Tala had once again risen and was donning a fresh set of Red. She stood before a tall mirror as she braided the lush tresses of her hair, binding them tight so that she felt the permanent strain across her skull, and she watched as her own grin slithered across cupid's-bow lips as she heard a particularly delightful scream pierce the Tower. A final moment to study herself, to watch as the ever-hungry demons of her own mind flashed behind her eyes, and then she was turning away and starting down the winding staircase to reunite with her poor little pet.

"Enough!" The Slaver's voice was booming and sharp enough to snap each head of the quad of guards like dogs that had just gotten caught by the master doing something naughty, and indeed that was exactly how Tala intended for it to appear. They instantly withdrew away from the battered form of the feline woman, leaving her to hang in that shameful display of exposure, her tail now bound and drawn up behind her, lifting her rear so that the span of her back resembled a curved horizontal line. The crisp cut of Tala's eyes raked across each face of the guards as she strode toward them, splitting between their ranks, and came to stand at their center. "It looks as if things got a bit more out of hand than I had allowed. I am not happy." The scolding was plain to hear in her voice as she raked each of them with those fear-striking eyes, causing all of them to cower. "I will deal with you all later. Leave. Now." The guards jumped to fulfill her command and soon enough they were exiting the room, their tails between their legs.

After moving to the winch set off to one side, she was lowering Misty and watched as her broken body crumpled to the floor barely a mew. She went to her then, unlatching the cuffs from about her raw wrists and tail and setting the chains aside. She scooped her hands underneath her arms and moved her with ease over to a small alcove within the room, setting her at the foot of a regal wood and leather chair before kneeling beside her. A cloth and a bowl of water seemed to appear out of nowhere and with a surprising amount of tenderness, Tala began to clean Misty's wounds.

"They weren't supposed to go this far," she lied with pure ease as she wiped the damp cloth across the swollen and broken knuckles of one of her hands, holding it with hers. Little did the poor Kirn know that they had been doing exactly which their Mistress had told them to. "They didn't take advantage of you, did they?" She asked, nodding when she saw the small, exhausted shake of her slave's head with her peripheral. "Good," she said, laying her hand back down before bringing the cloth to next touch at the bloodied ridge of a shattered cheek bone, "But they will still be punished for what they did, and they will be lucky if they survive it." Her other hand lifted to cradle her chin, angling it gently so that she could dab at the angry split on her lip. After a few moments of silence and careful attention paid to that wound, the most important question was next asked. "Did you do as I told you? Did you think of me?" Her eyes purposefully lingered on the Kirn's lips, letting the silence hang until she heard Misty soft mew and watched her nod. A smile slowly broken across the Slavers mouth then and, quietly, her first gift of praise was finally given. "Good girl."

The Slaver had decided that it was time to separate the two, to have a little more privacy with the more resistant one, and so Paradise had been taken from the watery cell and hauled through the many weaving corridors of the Tower, the amount of twists and turns dizzying on their own but when mixed with the recent torture and trauma they were certain to send one's head spinning. The guards had dragged the red-head into a circular room and proceeded to strap her wrists to a single dangling chain before turning a nearby lever to hoist her up into the air, her bare toes just barely able to brush at the grated floor beneath; yet another taunt from the twisted mind of the Mord-Sith . It would be awhile still before the woman would enter the room, giving Paradise enough time to fully absorb her hopeless humility, the sound of fresh red leather creaking as she entered through the open archway, that small sickening twist of a smirk already upon her lips as she looked to her slave. "Hello, my pet. Do you like your new surroundings?"

Paradise had kept her eyes closed for most of the journey to the room. It was not a matter of learning where she was anymore. She already knew. This was hell, and she was stuck here until someone decided to save her. To save them. Misty's pain had made everything worse for her. She could take the lashes, could even take the loss of her tongue, but to see her friend broken before her, humiliated, and left bleeding... It was almost too much. Paradise held onto the hope that they would be rescued, that someone would come and take them both away from this hell. Hanging from the shackles, the skin of her toes scraping against the grated floor, these were her thoughts as she waited for the Red Bitch to do with her as she would. The creaking of leather set her teeth on edge but she would not make a noise, would not cringe. She lifted her head as Tala entered and scowled at her words.

"What's the matter, pet? Cat got your tongue?" Purposeful twisting of words? Of course. This was Tala we are talking about here, after all. A further curling of that revolting smirk and the woman was continuing her entrance into the room, moving off to one side to move along the circular wall to slowly make her way around Paradise's side, in all to little of a hurry as she watched the dangling firebrand with cold, calculating eyes. "You do realize that you can in no way escape from this place unless I decide it, don't you, pet? That you will not see the light of day unless I so deem you worthy of it?"

Paradise rolled her shoulders, a painful creaking noise emitting from the strained joints. It was the closest thing she could come to a shrug in the place. Her stomach growled painfully and her head dropped again. She bit her lip, hard. In her mind, a constant mantra. This, too, shall pass. This, too, shall pass. This, too, shall pass. Her grey eyes followed the flash of red, as much as the shackles allowed her.

"That was not the answer that I was looking for." The Mord-Sith sneered as she came around behind Paradise and leaned in as she spoke those words, just before the tip of the Agiel was pressed against her side. The Mord-Sith would hold it there for a half-dozen seconds before releasing Paradise from its pain to continue in her circular stalk around her slave. "Now let's try this again. You do understand that every inch of you belongs to me, that everything that happens to you will be by my choice only, isn't this correct, pet?" Cold eyes watched the dangling woman, relentless, the Agiel humming as a quiet reminder of its presence, of its purpose should she respond wrongly again. But Tala didn't make any outward motion to the fact that she could hear Paradise's silent mantra as clear as if she were speaking them out with her once-intact tongue. She'd save that for later.

Paradise's body danced quite a bit, the pain driving her to cringe away, to tug harder on the shackles to pull herself away from the Agiel. When the pain subsided, she released the breath she had held in, body drooping once more. She raised her head, staring at Tala. Her answer came as a deep breath inward, the sudden spitting of fresh blood from a bitten lip onto the grated floor. She didn't acknowledge the woman, after that, keeping her eyes on the her boots. She will never break me. They will come for us. For Misty and for me. They will take us away from this place.

"Oh, now, pet, just because you can't speak doesn't mean you can't give me what I want." That tone was riddled with a bizarre sweetness and even her visage took on the appearance of subtle hurt, all of it feigned beautifully by way of the twisted mind of the Mord-Sith. "Do you really think that anyone can save you? Do you really think that they would risk all they have just for you?" False concern furrowed the perfection of her brow as she came around the other side of Paradise, watching the woman's face with that constant gaze.

She really shouldn't have been surprised that the woman could hear her thoughts. After all, she could take and twist her magic, her psionic abilities. Why should this be any different? Her head lifted, gray eyes meeting hers with a long look. You think they would leave us here to rot? You honestly think that you will get away with this? They care about us. All of them. Anya and Neo and Sarah. They will come for us, and you will pay for what you have done. To both of us. She raised her head again. Despite all the pain, she was confident in her words.

Tala's grin spread as Paradise quickly figured out their connection via mental thought. So she was more clever than the Mord-Sith gave her credit for. All the more delectable, then, when she would succeed in crushing her will and bend it to her own. "Is that honestly what you think?" She asked as her eyes, for the first time since she had entered the room, lowered, coming to find an exposed bit of skin of Paradise's side. Her clothing was tattered and in ruins, leaving much of her bare flesh vulnerable to the touch of leather-bound fingers as they were lifted and slid across that nakedness until the space between index finger and thumb cradled the curve of her side. "I find myself not so sure in your thoughts as you seem to be, my pet, for surely you can't think that they would come.. were it just you." Said before the tip of the Agiel came again to press lightly just beneath the jut of ribs.

Her skin crawled, and she nearly gagged. The pain was not nearly as terrible at that caress. She shook her head, the pain causing her to grit her teeth again. Head jutted forward on a taut neck, the muscles more obvious since she had lost what little fat she had since coming to this place. When the pain stopped, her head fell. Someone would come. They wouldn't just... leave me. There. Doubt. She was a recluse, spending long hours working either on the ship or in her tower, learning, creating. Most did not understand. Her head came up. Vinny would come for me.

Ah, doubt. That small sliver of unsureness was what the Mord-Sith had been seeking and when she caught that slight peek, well... That was enough to bring a small rippling of joy into her chest. But she wasn't a novice enough trainer to let that delight show, to let her secret desire be known by the victim hanging by her whim from chains. She continued in her circular walk, crossing in front of the firehair and letting her hand follow suit, trailing across the concave angle of her stomach as she went. "And where has this 'Vinny' been the entire time you've been gone, hm? I've been to the city since I've taken you, I've been to the Rings, and not once have I even heard the whispering of your dearest friend's name." She stopped at her other side, her hand now laying against the feminine curve of her hip. A slight tilting of her head as she peered up at the woman. "Are you so sure that he even cares?"

She closed her eyes tightly, trying not to let the memories flood her. Their last encounter had not been very... happy. Especially not with Vinny wanting her head on a platter. Paradise turned her face away from Tala, her entire body quaking. She was fighting that touch, fighting her doubts. No. They will come for me. They will come for me because they care as much for me as they do for Misty. She opened her eyes again, meeting Tala's gaze once more. I can't let you do this to me. This, too, shall pass. She took a breath, wincing at the pain in her ribs. This, too, shall pass.

That character smirk of hers came to life again and Tala shook her head, as if out of pity. "Maybe you are not as wise as I was giving you credit for, which I must say is a very disappointing thing to me." She stepped toward her now, her fingers once again shifting to wrap around the bare flesh of Paradise's side, just above the hip, as she came close, her head dipping a hint lower as her tone quieted, making her next words undeniably intimate between them. "And here I was thinking that you may very well be my favorite." Before the Agiel point was dug hard between the lines of the two ribs that protected the side of her heart.

She screamed loudly, her voice harsh, her cries ragged. Her head shook from side to side, as if in denial of the pain she felt. Her heart skipped a few beats as she fought, matted copper hair flying. Tears streamed down her face but she lifted her head weakly again. I don't want to be your favorite. I want to go home. To the Fur'za. She was trembling all over, arms strained against the shackles. She lifted her hands to take hold of the shackles, to ease some of the weight from her shoulders, but with an audible pop one of them dislocated again. She bit her lip hard enough to make it bleed but did not cry out with the pain.

"You will go no where unless I say you may!" The Mord-Sith's anger rose like a flash flood and crashed like a tidal wave, her fingers digging hard into the already tender flesh of Paradise's side as she pulled her hard, jamming that Agiel tip even deeper into that specific crevice between ribs. The pain that erupted from the stick was amplified like Paradise had never experienced before, blooming and flourishing as it poured out into both deliverer and recipient, although the former wore nothing more than an angry mask and bared teeth, and that could easily be attributed to the extreme pleasure she gained by inflicted such agony upon her vulnerable pet.

Her eyes flared open wide, her breath catching in her throat. She danced and jerked, feet scrabbling for purchase against the floor. Harsh choking noises erupted from her throat as she struggled to call out for Tala to stop. The fact that she was missing a tongue did nothing to prevent her from shaping the words. Stop! No! Paradise knew that she could not escape the pain. Fighting back her screams would do nothing but hurt her worse. The sensations filling her were too much and, in the end, her body drooped on the end of the chains as she lost consciousness.

Tala waited until the woman slumped with unconsciousness before she fully withdrew the Agiel, her hand smoothing up along battered skin until it sat just beneath the bleeding burn the pain stick had caused, her thumb moving to stroke against that ragged flesh before finally falling away. She stalked around the dangling form with slow, measured steps until she came fully around to stand in front of her again, feet shoulder-width apart and simply staring at her with that slightly downward canted chin. It was after a long drawn-out moment that the the back of the Mord-Sith's gloved fist came flying upwards and connected hard with the crest of Paradise's cheek, small backward angled razors slashing the pristine flesh to shreds. "Wake up!" The Slaver demanded, using the volume of both audible and mental voice to jolt the woman. "I did not say that you could rest."

She moaned with the pain, her eyelashes fluttering. Lightning danced beneath them, out of control. It trickled down her cheeks, like tears. Her hair was too matted to raise with the sudden current, but Tala would be able to feel it pulling at the strands of hair. Eyes flared open but the gray had completely disappeared, subsumed by her abilities.

"Mm..." Now there was the anger flaring that she wanted to see, running raw and unchecked. Tala took a step closer then, head still angled in that downward tilt as she came just a breath away from Paradise. "Do you hate me yet?" Asked as her hand came up once again to curl around her side, her eyes falling to it. "Do you want to cause me harm?" That hand moved up in continuous contact with the woman's skin, her eyes following its path even as it ran, full and hard, over that freshly wounded skin.

Her skin jerked away from the woman's touch, her eyes boring into the other woman. There was a wildness there, a lack of control. She opened her mouth to speak and a choked gurgling noise came out. She shook her head and spoke with her mind. I don't hate you, Tala. I pity you. I pity what you are. You can take whatever you want, do whatever you want, but no one will ever love you. No one will hold you with care and tenderness. She slumped in the shackles again, her other shoulder popping audibly as it finally gave up the ghost.

The look on her face was nothing more than pure amusement and, in fact, she actually felt the beginning of a laugh as it crept up her throat. It was a slow, maniacal thing as it rippled out through that malicious grin, the look in her eyes nothing short of cruel and twisted. "If I were you, hanging from my wrists like a pig ready for the slaughter, I wouldn't be one to try pitying the butcher." That last word was said with distinct enunciation just before she moved off to once again begin circling her dangling victim, that gloved hand finally falling away from Paradise's skin as she came around behind her, out of her sight. "Besides... I'm not the one who was simply abandoned without a word."

Her head drooped down between her shoulders, eyes closing tightly. I don't know what you are talking about. The pain from her dislocated shoulders had tears rolling down her cheeks, dropping to the grated floor. She listened to the woman's footsteps, the creak of red leather, and tried not to be sick. This woman knew too much. But for Misty's sake, she had to stay strong. A slow, indrawn breath, shaky, and she lifted her head again. Misty hasn't abandoned me.

"Oh, hasn't she?" The Mord-Sith asked, still behind the form of the hanging woman. She tilted her head to better see her face as it lifted, although her own would remain distinctly just out of reach of Paradise's own gaze should she search. Purposeful, of course, leaving Tala to enjoy a subconscious relishment of the obvious advantage she had. "So you can read the thoughts that run through her head? You know that never once a thought of you crossed it when she's being trained? That all she ever thinks about is how much she resents you? That you couldn't save her?" That smirk was full of sin as she spoke, her tone holding a sickening amount of feigned sincerity. "Maybe your parents were right."

She began to struggle suddenly, body thrashing against her restraints. She screamed, wordlessly, the sound echoing around the room. The mere mention of her parents was enough, but Misty... Never! I know my friend and she would never abandon me! She doesn't hate me... I tried to save her! Each thought was punctuated by a sharp gasp as she tried to scream again, but her throat was raw, bloodied. How dare you! How dare you do this to us!

?How dare you to think to resist me!" The Mord-Sith said as she took a sudden step forward, right up behind Paradise. A hand came up, long fingers reaching out to grab a fistful of that fiery hair and yank her head back hard, just as the tip of the Agiel was driven straight into the middle of her back. "I can do whatever I please with you." These words were said between gritted teeth as she brought her head closer to the woman, still pressing that Agiel like a serrated knife into the woman's spine. Her mouth was near her ear now, Paradise unable to pull her head away as she continued to keep it yanked back. She relished in the shared agony for a span of moments before the baton was separated from now-broken flesh, although she still kept her hair knotted in her grip and yanked back tight. "And my Kitten knows what sort of a freak you are. Of how weak you are."

Her struggles were fruitless, the pain in her scalp causing her to grit her teeth. She could feel blood trickling down her back from the Agiel, from the square of bared muscle and nerves that had once been covered by a delicate tattoo of a lightning bolt. I am not weak! I've been running her business for her while she was doing her own thing. I'm the one who helped rescue her when she was stupid enough to take the Kitteh's Claw out on her own. I am NOT WEAK! Lightning danced behind her eyelids again. Her temper had flared, once more, control slowly being worn down by her manipulations.

"Weak enough to let your friends become slaves." She said, her tone all of a sudden quite different than the just-before harshness that had held it. Her own head dipped low, an action that the red-head would more feel than be able to actually see, and her cadence and even over-all air took on a more pitiful, perhaps even saddened, state. Oh yes, this woman was indeed quite mad. But it was this insanity that had broken more than a hundred minds before and Tala would have nothing less than to see the gates of Paradise crushed down before her. "Weak enough to let those you love walk away from you." Her fingers slowly released that luscious hair then, a gradual thing, eyes flicked upward to watch the reaction upon her slave's face.

Thought lightning struck in gray, stormy eyes and fire danced just beneath, tears poured down her cheeks. She was close to sobbing, body trembling. It was all too much. Physical pain, she could handle. Had handled. Her shoulders were throbbing painfully, the stalk from her recent tongue removal bleeding again from all of her straining. She turned her head slightly away from the other woman. I didn't let them walk away. They... They... Her mental voice stammered, searching for answers.

"They simply left you." Tala finished her sentence for her as her fingers finally fully released her hair from that horrid pull and were now instead moving to bury themselves into the lush red tresses and cradle the back of her head. "They simply walked away and abandoned you, left you all alone and wondering why you didn't deserve their love." Fingers were moving now in a subtle, gentle caress of her skull and Paradise would feel the strangely warm presence of the Slaver's body, so close now, behind her.

I... don't know... Her head started to fall forward again, but, despite herself it seemed, she leaned into that caress. A soft muffled sound in her throat. No... no, it's not that. I... I'm at fault. I'm the one who messed up, who made them leave. No mention of the fact that she had walked away from Vincent on her own. It's my fault. All of it. If I hadn't let you put this on me... Misty would be safe.

"But not a one stood up for you." Meaning the entire gathering that had been present at her and Misty's collaring. "They all just stood there talking as you placed that collar around your own neck. They all just... watched. And then walked away." A more than slightly skewed version of the story, yes, but with the mixture of battering, half-starvation, and mental twisting it wasn't too hard to imagine that Paradise just might remember it along those very lines. Her fingers continued in their gentle caress, kneading at the knots at the base of her skull as her other hand came forward again, red leather smoothing around the sensual curve just above Paradise's hip.

They were scared for Misty... I was the only one who get through to the ring... get through to her. She was so scared. So innocent. It was almost a quiet murmur in her mind. They'll come for her, won't they? They'll save her? It was almost hopefully, as she leaned her head backward to receive the caresses.

"They will come for her." the Mord-Sith said with a confirming nod, taking yet another step closer to her slave to let her fingers come to a more solid find across the curve of her side. Her other fingers were still in motion, now working at the array of tense muscles that lined the back of her neck. Lucky for Paradise that the hum of the Agiel had gone silent, otherwise she may have been a bit worried at how closely it dangled as it hung from that golden chain by the Slaver's wrist to fall in perfect line with her spine. Her head turned slightly now, bringing her lips so very close to the cusp of Paradise's ear. "But not for you."

She stiffened, but only momentarily. As long as Misty gets to go home... I don't care. It wasn't true, of course. All she wanted was to be gone from this place, gone from the pain and torture. Gone from the twisted woman who would both hurt and caress her. If I stay... If I stay, will you let her go?

"If you stay here," she began, as that hand began to smooth its way up along the exposed flesh of her side. Leather-encased finger tips now splayed up into the thickness of fiery hair, the movement both sensual and strangely erotic as they pressed to the tenderness of her skull. They were then again moving, this time sliding down the beautiful expanse of vulnerable throat before moving around the cradle it, fitting perfectly just beneath the angle of her jaw. Her mouth, still just a breath away from Paradise's ear, brushed the warmth of her breath across her lobe with her whispered words. "I want it to be for me."

She swallowed thickly. You'll leave me... just like the rest. You won't stay. She stretched her neck out further, seeking that caress. She trembled from head to toe, eyes flitting back and forth in a face that looked starved from hunger, lips parched from thirst and pain. You wouldn't stay with me.

"I won't leave. I will stay with you..." Her fingers splayed beneath the delectable curve of her slave's jaw, cradling about her throat as she gave a light pull, bringing Paradise's body back against hers to let her feel the solid stance her own form had behind her, to feel the cool, smooth feel of the leather as it was pressed against her. Her other hand smoothed around the front of the woman's torso now, coming to press the fullness of her palm at the juncture between the twin sides of her ribcage, her thumb finding its rest up between the mounds of her breasts. At that moment, they were in the most disturbingly intimate stance that they had ever had together, and Tala felt the silent burning of hunger glow as embers deep inside of her, letting Paradise feel the warmth of its caress across her ear. "Only if you please me."

If I.... If I can please you, Tala... Just let me show you. She leaned against the woman, the shivering continuing. Flesh upon leather had her gasping and she shook her head back and forth. Just tell me... I'll do anything to have you stay with me. She groaned softly and swallowed hard again. Lightning slowly flickered across her cheeks, her own heat making the area around her dangerously warm.

"Mistress." The Mord-Sith reminded her of her proper title that she wore out of right, yet now she wanted to wear it out of desire. A briefly-lived hum would vibrate across that delicate lobe as a smile began its slow curl at the corners of her mouth, that thumb beginning a slow, calculated rub between her slave's breasts. "And if you truly want to please me," she said, thumb and forefinger of her other hand starting at a slow stroking of the tender spots of discovered pulse, "The next time you begin to think of anyone else, the next time you think about becoming free... I want you to think of how much you want to please me."

She tried to stretch towards that caress, a moan building quietly between her cracked lips. Eyes opened slowly, wide, as she arched her back more. Each slow caress brought her closer to an abyss she had, thus far, kept away from. She tilted her head to the side rubbing her cheek timidly against the other woman's even as her arms strained, dislocated shoulders turning an ominous shade of purple. Blood dripped from her toes and through the grates below her, but Paradise gave a shy smile.

Yes, Mistress.