she who follows the light

With his business delving for information on his advisors done, he sought pleasure in play and practice, honing his influence further before delivering the bite which would anchor it for a time. "You've always been strange and twisted," Harkon remarked, gruff and low. His voice was surprisingly soft with no audience present. "I feel it. That yearning to give up your power. Why then, do you even have it in the first place?" My lord did not intend for me to answer aloud. A sense of pressure increased on either side of my skull, then there was a sharp jolt of pain. I whimpered, plaintive. A shudder fled down the length of my spine and I went blessedly limp. The true depth of his breach was more spiritual than physical, but it still encouraged trickles of cold blood as his nails pierced my temples. All around and within, I felt the rumble of Harkon's chuckle as he uprooted answers like fistfuls of twisted briars. Yet it ebbed to an empty echo far too quickly. Gone was his laughter, returned was the weight of my own bodily feeling, and I longed for his presence once more. Above me, he exhaled and steadied himself. "You didn't even earn it," he continued, as if unfazed by the effort. "Then, your sire must have done all the work for this boon, and was irresponsible to give it so freely. Is that why you want so badly to be consumed, wretch?" Again, he didn't want me to respond. Instead - pressure, another jolt as his powers leapt across. I bared myself for him to dig around in my mind, and Void, it felt horrendous. Another noise went strained through my teeth. The thrill settled into my lower belly and coaxed my sexes easily to life. "How disgusting. You only compare yourself to prey and that arouses you. It pleases you. You're no servant to the Lord of Schemes, but you certainly are a worm." I felt his influence seeping along the outside of my veins. If I could just muffle my rattling fiend further, let him in deeper … An exhaled breath, a wave drawing back. Gone again. "Please," I gasped. "Longer, please." "I don't think you deserve it yet." He couldn't provide it, not at that depth. His reply painted that fact over with the pretense of choice instead of weakness, and I said nothing to doubt him.