Love and War (Closed: Veroe)

[Knightmare27]

Character description: Duke Thorwen is a very tall, muscular man in his thirties with short black hair and a short full beard. He has black eyes and a handsome, angular face with three prominent scars - two on his cheek and one under his right eye.


Duke Thorwen barely noticed the sweat streaming down his face. The screaming and clanging around him were just distant perceptions. All his attention was on the bloody path his blade was cutting through the onrushing elves. His personal guards were also holding their own, slowly pushing them back. Eregin, their captain, dodged a spear thrust with a daring jump and his counterthrust felled another one. He grinned. Victory was close!

He finished off his opponent and turned to check on the guardsman fighting valiantly on his right. Then, just as he was about to turn back, he saw a silvery flash go through his throat. Damn! He turned to face this new enemy, just in time to see the rushing shade fell another one. Whoever it was was just now done with a third! Three? In as many seconds? Who was that? He brought his sword around just in time to block the same flash that had just felled three of his comrades. As they locked blades, he caught a glimpse of the stranger. What he saw nearly distracted him enough to get him stabbed through the throat: Beauty so pure he could see it through the fierce glare she was shooting him. Another strike - no, wait - a feint! At the last second, he read the intent in her eyes and parried a swing that would have doomed a less skillful swordsman.

She was good! Not just good - she was beautiful. Elegant. Moving without even a thought, it seemed. None of the guards had stood a chance. The rest of the battle ceased to matter. The fiercest, most beautiful woman he had ever seen was facing him. If he was to survive this, he had to use his height and muscle to his advantage. Blow after blow, she drove him back. Suddenly, he saw his chance - a stray arrow came her way, and she was distracted by it for just a moment. A mighty blow from him forced her to dodge. Now he was driving her back, her lithe body bending out of the way of his powerful strikes seemingly without thought or effort.

He had to have her! Just keep her busy! Look for an opportunity to disarm her! He risked death repeatedly while these thoughts raced in his head. Suddenly - another distraction. One of the surviving guardsmen rushed her and she had to turn and defend herself for a blink of an eye. Heart racing, he brought his sword around in a long arc. A disarming blow - if it succeeded, she would lose her sword. If not - her blade would probably go right through his throat.

 

[Veroe]

IC: Larasylvanna

Growing up Lara had always been something of what you would call a tomboy. Instead of spending her days in dresses or in studies of musty old tomes and treatises debating matters of statecraft in her father's manse she spent them in the pursuit of becoming a grand warrior for her people. After many years of running, climbing, jumping, wrestling, and over those years her body honed itself into a lean strong fighting machine. Unfortunately a year ago her father had been assasinated leaving her the young queen of the Elven valley of the Eldervale.

It had been a rocky start for her. Lara was not remotely prepared to lead her people as their queen. Then came the army from the realm outside Elven mountain valleys. An entire army of men led by the Duke of Thorwen.

Now the moon was full in the cloudless sky. The stars of her ancestors shone down on the Eldervale as barbarian invaders charged into their sacred valley. Lara led six of her warriors through the forest. The invaders had charged deep into the forest pushing her forces back, yet her warriors had rallied and were holding the line...barely.

So her plan was to take her best six warriors and flank around the enemy's lines and eliminate their heart...this Duke Thorwen tyrant.

She took to the elder trees, grown thick and tall over the centuries in the Elven valley. From there she could see this Duke Thorwen, a tall neatly bearded human male. He looked regal, and commanding, there directing his invasion to pillage and plunder her people's ancestral home.

She drew an arrow and let loose taking the soldier to the Duke's right through the unprotected throat. She then launched herself drawing her father's royal sword. The other two gaurdsmen that protected the Thorwen's right side came at her. She ducked beneath the swing of one's battleaxe thrusting the rapier's point into the large man's unarmored armpit. She didn't bother trying to pull the sword instead she pulled another arrow from her quiver and driving into the third soldier's throat.

She then cleared her father's sword and charged for the Duke. She swung for his head. It was blocked by his broadsword. As their blades clenched she glared into his eyes. Why did he have to have such a handsome face for an invading marauder?

She swung her father's rapier again and he made to parry it, but she snarled pulling back her sword in a feint and struck for his thigh instead. He blocked it however.

They danced with steps of strike, dodge, parry, riposte for several more seconds and then she heard someone behind her shout, "The Duke! He's under attack! To the Duke!"

Battle honed instincts spurred her to duck the arrow that sped by her head and stuck fast into the trunk of a tree nearby. She redoubled her attacks against desperation granting her greater ferocity, but the Duke's defense was a wall she could not overcome and more of his gaurds were coming.

Then he knocked her father's sword out of her hands.

 

[Knightmare27]

He howled in triumph as he saw the slender blade arc through the air and disappear somewhere in the distance. Panting from exertion, he stepped towards her, the tip of his sword pointing at her neck the entire time. A battle was raging around him, and his side seemed to be winning, but he only cared about this triumph. Now his sword nearly touched the elf, and he did not take his eyes off her for one moment. Not only was she beautiful - she was also certainly crafty enough to have a hidden dagger somewhere, so he was not taking any chances.

"I win", he said and looked into her eyes, grinning. "Now, as much as I would like to end you for killing so many of my men today, I think I shall simply consider you my share of the loot for this battle."

To his amazement, she seemed less exhausted than he was, despite having danced out of the way of his blade for what had seemed like an eternity. His mouth was a little dry now that he had a clear look at her - if she looked like that grimy, sweaty and clad in practical clothing, how ravishing would she look later after he had forcibly cleaned her and peeled her out of her armored shell? He could not wait to find out, but he forced himself to remain calm and patient, fully aware that a fighter strong enough to cut down three of his best men and nearly kill him might not quite give up this easily.

The battle seemed to be going well without him, much to his relief. He was sure that even a moment's distraction would probably end with the elf on top of him, trying to kill him, or even succeeding.

"Take your time", he said, his grin now merely a mean little smile, "I am sure being taken captive is an entirely new experience to you, so I want you to take a deep breath, get used to it and then SLOWLY turn around, your hands on your back."

He saw one of his archers hurrying by and whistled for him to come over. Without taking his eyes off his new captive even once, he commanded "Hold that one! Careful! She's strong!"

He secretly envied the man because he would be the first one to be allowed to touch her, but he had no choice - there was no way he alone could hold her forever, and that was what counted now - to make sure she did not escape. He would never forgive himself for letting true beauty slip out of his grasp because he got careless.

Still pointing his sword at her, he opened the archer's pouch and took out his spare bowstring. It was thin but strong and would be enough to secure her for now. Introducing her to proper shackles and the other joys of her new life as a prisoner could wait until his men had cleared the battlefield. By the sound of it, this was soon.

"I am Duke Thorwen, as you probably know. Now, since you tried to stab me to death instead of introducing yourself as a proper lady should, I do not know your name yet. May I ask whom I have the pleasure to take as my prisoner for the rest of your life?"

 

[Veroe]

IC: Larasylvana

They danced with steps of strike, dodge, parry, riposte for several more seconds and then she heard someone behind her shout, "The Duke! He's under attack! To the Duke!"

Battle honed instincts spurred her to duck the arrow that sped by her head and stuck fast into the trunk of a tree nearby. She redoubled her attacks against desperation granting her greater ferocity, but the Duke's defense was a wall she could not overcome and more of his gaurds were coming.

Then he knocked her father's sword out of her hands.

Lara would've gone after it however she was held fast when the tip of the duke's sword pointed at her throat. He declared, "I win."

"Only for the moment," Came her quick firm retort, "Don't think for a moment that I need my father's sword to end the likes of you, tyrant."

He didn't respond to the goad instead he grinned like he was vastly enjoying their battle of words, "Now, as much as I would like to end you for killing so many of my men today, I think I shall simply consider you my share of the loot for this battle."

'Loot'?! Her eyes narrowed flaring brightly with restrained anger as she heard the term in reference to her. He was going to take her prisoner as nothing more than a prize of the conquest and subjugation of her people, and her culture, one that had spanned the breadth of millenia-one brought so low in a single day.

No! She would not allow such a fate to befall her or her people.

"Never!" She snarled to him in defiance.

"Take your time", he said, his grin now merely a mean little smile, "I am sure being taken captive is an entirely new experience to you, so I want you to take a deep breath, get used to it and then SLOWLY turn around, your hands on your back."

She closed her eyes taking that deep breath centering herself. Unarmed she'd need to be in control of her emotions if she was going to get out of this situation in any position to complete her mission here. So resolutely she did as he bade and turned around hands behind her.

He called for the archer that had shot at her to come over and tie her hands behind her.

"I am Duke Thorwen, as you probably know. Now, since you tried to stab me to death instead of introducing yourself as a proper lady should, I do not know your name yet. May I ask whom I have the pleasure to take as my prisoner for the rest of your life?"

The archer began to use a spare bowstring to begin winding them around her wrists. She glared over her shoulder to the Duke answering, "I am Larasylvana, daughter of Lorelsylvana, Queen of the Eldervale, Champion of the silver arches, and the sentinel of the Elderwood, and tonight the slayer of tyrants"

As she spoke she had shifted her foot back between the archers feet. After her words as punctuation she made her move. Her foot swept out knocking off the archers at a crucial moment as she bolted forward into the trees and shrub of the Elderwood. She jumped tucking her legs up and slipping her bound hands under them and back infront of her as her feet landing without losing her stride.

The duke was charging after her. He wanted his prize. That was good. She could lead him deeper into the forest and away from his soldiers where it would be just her and him-to the death for her people's survival or destruction.

 

[Knightmare27]

She did not even stop threatening him now, and he was genuinely impressed by the fierce elf's courage, threatening to kill him even without her father's sword. Even though he did not take his eyes off her for even a second, he could not even see the slightest shaking.

"Oh, I am sure you can slay me with your bare hands, too. It is why I am...peacebonding those deadly weapons now. It is really impolite to slay your host, after all. You would force me to become positively unhospitable to you in return."

An impressive array of names she spouted back at him. And another threat at the end of it, of course. She just could not stop threatening him, could she? Fierce and beautiful... he had been sure from the beginning she had to be someone special, and this list confirmed it.

He paid fascinated attention to his archer's efforts to secure her hands. A bowstring was thin, but strong... she was unlikely to break it, even though she promised to be stronger and tougher than her beauty suggested. It would hold her, at least until he could take her back to his camp and some proper chains and ropes. At least he hoped so - it would be a bitter victory indeed to win the battle but lose this captive.

"Careful, Anson", he addressed the archer. He was one of his veteran commanders of archers. Much leaner than his duke, but nearly as tall, he was already showing a few signs of age, especially in his hair. Thorwen knew him - he had been an archer under his father, then a leader under him. Not a popular man with his troops, he insisted on perfection and was quick with his cane. He insisted on perfection and got it - or else.

"Of course, your grace. I know I'm not dealing with some wispy, weeping peasant girl here" - an evil smile suggested he spoke from experience - "I'll tie her up like a wild horse. She will not bolt from you, or I'll be damned". Indeed he did not spare her at all, pulled the string tight until it left deep grooves in her smooth skin, then secured it with a strong knot. "There she is, your grace. Bound and ready."

Another evil smile made it very clear to him exactly what Anson wanted her "ready" for. But if he thought he could just have his fun with her, he was mistaken. He was not going to rape her. He was going to fuck her.

"Thank you. But you will not touch her again without my permission, do you hear? And spread the word among my men, too. She is mine, and mine alone. If anyone so much as touches her, whatever body part touched her is going to end up around his neck."

"Ah, so finally we have been introduced. An elven princess? I did not expect to capture royalty today, your highness. And I must disappoint you: This tyrant has no plans to be slain today. Maybe some other time, if I ever release you. I hope it takes your people forever to scrape together your ransom, or we will have to part much earlier..."

What was she doing? Before he realized why she was suddenly spinning in the air, she had already taken off, almost unhindered by her restraints. It only took him a moment to react.

He crashed through the woods like an enraged bull - only he did not make a sound. Cold fury filled him, at the audacity of his captive to just slip through his grip. But she was amazingly flexible... he just had to catch her. She was clearly faster and more nimble, but he had more troops. He just had to keep chasing her until she made a mistake. Hopefully, soon. His lungs were already starting to ache from the exertion of running after this blur. Even her bound hands seemed to hardly slow her down...

 

[Veroe]

IC: Larasylvana

"I am Larasylvana, daughter of Lorelsylvana, Queen of the Eldervale, Champion of the silver arches, and the sentinel of the Elderwood, and tonight the slayer of tyrants"

"Oh, I am sure you can slay me with your bare hands, too. It is why I am...peacebonding those deadly weapons now." Came the monster's arch reply, "It is really impolite to slay your host, after all. You would force me to become positively unhospitable to you in return."

"You invade my home, kill and enslave my people, and now call yourself my host," She snarled back at him at that, "You truly are a monster."

The sneering archer began tying her wrists together behind her back. The two of them began conversing about how they were going to treat her. The Archer clearly wanted to rape her. She was surprised when to hear the Duke defense of her. However she did respond to any of that. She knew the habits of such pathetic brutish men when women were around. It was all fuel for her fire to gain her freedom and and kill the Duke.

She was turned to face him now. He was tall, holding himself with an aristocratic and arrogant air. He looked her over with an appraising eye and she could feel his eyes like hands caressing every curve and contour of her form, mentally stripping the armor and leathers from her body.

"Ah, so finally we have been introduced. An elven princess? I did not expect to capture royalty today, your highness."

"Wrong, Duke Thorwen," She retorted glaring at him, "You've not captured me. You've only delayed me from killing you."

As she spoke she had shifted her foot back between the archers feet. After her words as punctuation she made her move. Her foot swept out knocking off the archers at a crucial moment as she bolted forward into the trees and shrub of the Elderwood. She jumped tucking her legs up and slipping her bound hands under them and back in front of her as her feet landing without losing her stride.

The duke was charging after her. He wanted his prize. That was good. She could lead him deeper into the forest and away from his soldiers where it would be just her and him-to the death for her people's survival or destruction.

Full speed she barreled through the darkening forest, weaving, and curling through the trees and shrubs. She ran leading her pursuer further and further away from his army towards the river carving its way through the valley and bisecting the forest. She could hear the rapids splashing over the rocky banks not too far from her.

Soon she emerged out of the trees and reached the rushing icy cold mountain water of the river. The Duke was only seconds behind her so she hid behind a tree and when he ran past her bound hands lanced out grabbing his sword arm by the wrist and twisted forcing his grasp to open and causing the sword to fall to their feet. She pivoted him to throw him over on his back...however the ropes caught his fingers and it altered the momentum of her move. The result was that they both fell into the rapids rushing by them.

 

[Knightmare27]

He ran and a ran and ran. The small part of his mind that was still thinking rationally wondered where he took the energy. His legs were almost moving automatically. Despite the battle, he had strength left somewhere. Strength to pursue his beautiful prey past trees, through branches. To run, to run, to run. Nothing remained in his vision but her, she blinded him even to the ground and he nearly stumbled several times.

There was no way he could catch up with her unless she made a mistake. He knew this, so he slowed down a little, stayed just fast enough to remain threatening. If he kept running like that, she was bound to stumble, especially tied up. That was what he was counting on. No chance to keep up with her, not with sweat dripping out from under his armor and his sides aching as if he was running through a gauntlet of invisible spearmen.

It was a credit to his fighter's reflexes that he realized what was happening moments before he hit the icy water. It did not help. The cold punched him in the chest, and he nearly lost consciousness. He came to. Where was he? Oh damn! She had to be drowning! Wait, how was he? Cold rushed all over his body, made his heart pound, made him gasp for air. The water was wild here, everything was ready to crush him.

Yet his thoughts were with her. Impossible to swim with your hands bound like that. Where was she? The icy water kept dunking him, making him gasp for air. Eventually, though, during one of his many frantic attempts to breathe, he spotted what looked like a splash of colour futher down the rapids. Was that her? It had to be? He stopped thinking and let the rushing stream carry it towards whatever it was.

Half-unconscious and half-mad, he grasped through the white water with clammy fingers until he caught something that felt like hair. No time to think. Just grasp. Wet threads of something got caught in his hand, and he pulled hard. When he felt resistance, he kept pulling and pulling until something broke the surface. A face! It was her! His panicked feet tried to find something to stand on, tread the water, got swept away again and again.

They pushed against something solid. He kicked it and swam towards one of the banks, still towing her by her hair. At least her face was above water now. She could breathe. If she was still breathing... no, no. That could not be. She was still breathing. She had to be! With the last of his strength, he gave the rocks under his feet another kick and swam towards a fallen tree that was lying across the river.

He pushed her against the trunk to prevent her from being swept further down, then he climbed on top of it with what was left of his strength and caught his breath, but only for a moment. He was still holding her by the hair, no idea if she was even conscious.

 

[Veroe]

IC: Larasylvana

Soon she emerged out of the trees and reached the rushing icy cold mountain water of the river. The Duke was only seconds behind her so she hid behind a tree and when he ran past her bound hands lanced out grabbing his sword arm by the wrist and twisted forcing his grasp to open and causing the sword to fall to their feet. She pivoted him to throw him over on his back...however the ropes caught his fingers and it altered the momentum of her move. The result was that they both fell into the rapids rushing by them.

It was freezing cold and she was not prepared to dive into the water, but she managed to hold her breath until her head lifted out of the water. In the distance Lara could see the Duke's head emerging from the water not far from her. If she could reach him she could hold his head under the surface and let the river do her work for her.

She tried to reach him, but it was almost impossible to swim with her hands tied together, and struggle against the ferocity of the current rushing them further and further down the winding river from any of the armies clashing among the trees in the valley. She almost made it to him when she collided hard into a rock. A world of pain blossomed in the back of her head. After that was all blackness.

She emerged from the blackness to the crackling of a campfire. She was lying on her side on the bank of the river as the night was brightening with light of an approaching dawn. She tried to rise up and discovered that her hands were hogtied to her ankles behind her, and why in the nine hells was she naked. Someone had taken her weapons and leather armor, and the same person had draped a damp cloak over her naked and bound body.

"What? Who?" She asked lifting her head and looking around. She saw her clothing laid over a log and Duke Thorwen stripped down to just his pants though his sword not far from his hand.

"You monster," She growled pulling on her binds, "Let me go and fight me one on one like a man."

 

[Knightmare27]

"Your little swim was bad for your memory... I already fought you like a man. You lost. And then you decided that you would rather drown than be with me. Which I found quite insulting, honestly. No, I will not let you go. We will stay by this campfire until both we and our clothes are dry, and then, after a restful night of sleep, I will take you to my castle. Well, it will be restful for me, anyway. You will remain tied up like that."

The sight of the elf, naked, shivering, bathed in warm, orange light by the campfire, was too much. He dropped his pants until he was completely naked, revealing a huge erection. As he got closer to her, the throbbing became almost unbearable. It was nearly painful to look at her... those perfect breasts, the toned muscles, the delicate face. All of it made him feel like he was about to burst. And now she was all his. He breathed heavily as he knelt down next to her.

He removed the coat, uncovering her entire body, then lay down next to her, his eyes locked on hers. His hands gently caressed her breasts, his skin now so close he could feel the warmth that was returning into her. He wrapped his arms around her behind her bound shoulders and pulled the elf even closer. A kiss on the lips, then he wrapped his legs around hers and paused for a moment, his throbbing penis on her thigh.

"I wanted out first meeting to be more romantic, but I can not sleep like that. Prepare for what will be the first of many times..."

His hands were wrapped around her sides. His thumbs were playing with her nipples now, his lips nuzzling the smooth skin of her face as if he was trying to taste her beauty. He closed his eyes, concentrated on everything he was feeling... the softness on his lips, the hardening nipples under his thumbs, the breath he could feel through her ribs, the straining of her legs against their bonds, and against his...

 

[Veroe]

IC: Larasylvana

"You monster," She growled pulling on her binds, "Let me go and fight me one on one like a man."

"Your little swim was bad for your memory... I already fought you like a man. You lost. And then you decided that you would rather drown than be with me, which I found quite insulting, honestly." He retorted standing up to pull his trousers down right in front of her. By the goddess, his manhood was massively gigantic hanging between his thighs plain to her awestruck and terrified eyes.

"What are you doing," She balked, "Let me go right now!"

"No, I will not let you go." He said pulling his ankles from the dampened puddle that was his pants. "We will stay by this campfire until both we and our clothes are dry, and then, after a restful night of sleep, I will take you to my castle. Well, it will be restful for me, anyway. You will remain tied up like that."

"I will not. I will fight you with every breath in my body," She denied as he came up on her and bent down to pull off the cloak covering her bound naked body. "You may as well just kill me and save yourself the misery I'll cause you."

He laid down on his side to face her on the moist ground she was laying down on. "Don't you dare touch me."

"I wanted out first meeting to be more romantic," He told her his arms wrapping around her and dragging her in right up against his naked body. His hands feeling her the full globes of her breasts, fingers finding the open targets of her nipples. His fingertips were highly skilled and she gasped as frissures of pain and confusing pleasure shot throughout her body and pooling down between her legs in her womanly core. "but I can not sleep like that."

Hi eyes were slate grey and deep. She could find herself lost within those eyes.

"No!" She wrenched her eyes shut denying his power over her. "Get your hands off me!"

"Prepare for what will be the first of many times..." He said nuzzling the words against her cheek sending ripples of what Lara desperately wanted to claim was revulsion. His fingers continued rolling, tweaking , and circling her nipples, and then lifting his leg he wrapped it over to the back of her leg so his disgustingly big member landed across her thigh.

"I said do not touch me!" Her eyes shot open and she lashed out the only way she had left now. She took his earlobe between her teeth and bit down on it.

 

[Knightmare27]

"Look who is making threats even though she is naked, and tied up. What a brave, brave fool you are!"

As their bodies touched, he could feel her strong muscles move underneath her smooth skin, straining against the bonds. Underneath it, a brave heart was pounding against his chest through hers. She radiated power, even half-drowned, half-frozen and captured. No sign of fear was visible on her beautiful face, even though it should be.

She closed her eyes. He smiled. For a brief moment, he had seen there what she had surely seen in his. Something that had shocked her, and delighted him. Something she could clearly not allow herself to feel for someone she was trying to hate. To him, the conqueror, it was far easier to admit now: She was so much more than just a prized bounty now. There had been a spark, a flash that she was trying to deny.

"Do not touch me", he replied mockingly. "You still have not figured out how this prisoner thing works, have you? Let me remind you."

He moved upwards just a little bit, just enough so the tip of his penis pushed inside her no more than a finger's breadth.

"I have captured you, and that means I get to touch you when and how I want. I can fuck you, or beat you, even hang you by your pretty, pretty neck until you are dead. Of course, I will not do that. Whatever you might have heard of me, I do not enjoy destroying priceless things of beauty."

OW! He had forgotten about the one weapon she still had left. It clamped shut, hard, on his ear, and refused to let go. The pain radiated through his entire skull, throbbing, numbing, making it hard to think or fight back. His eyes closed involuntarily and colorful sparks shot around in the darkness. When he opened them again, rage rose in him and dulled the pain a little.

In anger and pain, he closed his fingertips around her nipples harder than steel clamps. Only one way to make her let go... as soon as he had a firm grip, he twisted them, as hard as he could. So hard it almost felt as if he was twisting them off. Maybe he was. He did not care. It was not even hate he felt, just the desperate, panicked need to get rid of the shooting pain he was still feeling in his ear like the worst headache he had ever had.

"LET GO, YOU FOOL!", he bellowed, his fingers still digging deep into her flesh, distorting her nipples into grotesque shapes he hoped would give her all that agony right back. He gave her one more horrible, agonizing second to comply, then he would punch her in the face, breaking both the grip of her teeth and probably her nose. He would lose a bit of an earlobe, probably, but he was so far beyond caring.

 

[Veroe]

IC: Larasylvana

"I said do not touch me!" Her eyes shot open and she lashed out the only way she had left now. She took his earlobe between her teeth and bit down on it.

"Do not touch me", he replied mockingly. "You still have not figured out how this prisoner thing works, have you? Let me remind you."

She felt his disgusting manhood press between her thighs with the lifting of his hips against the entrance of her womanhood. "Stop it!"

"I have captured you, and that means I get to touch you when and how I want. I can fuck you, or beat you, even hang you by your pretty, pretty neck until you are dead." He glared, "Of course, I will not do that. Whatever you might have heard of me, I do not enjoy destroying priceless things of beauty."

That was when she bit him.

His cry of pain made her feel good and then the sharp rebuke of his fingers pinching her nipples and giving them a cruel twist shot agony through her body. Through her teeth clamped down around his earlobe she let out a guttural grunt of pain. He was not letting up. On the contrary he was twisting them harder the longer she refused to let go of his earlobe. It was getting more and more intolerable. Tears were forming in her eyes and her agonized whimpers escaped through teeth that stubbornly stayed clamped shut.

"LET GO, YOU FOOL!" He bellowed out twisting them almost completely around.

A cry of torment erupted out of her mouth and his ear lobe came free red and throbbing with indentations in it made from her teeth. Instead she switched methods of attack rocking her head back and slamming it forward so her forehead collided into his as hard as Lara could manage. That caused her eyes to screw shut as the world seemed to spin and wobble on the point of a pin for a minute from the impact, but it stunned him enough to let her poor tortured nipples go. Even hog tied on her side and her head swimming from headbutting him she managed to wiggle an inch or two further away from him.

"Do not touch me again," She glared out to him.