Re: The Lone Survivor (Tyagor) GM'd by dragoon93041
Aria was glad for the sturdier ladder, needing to balance herself inside was hard enough but with the rain outside it would have been near enough. Aria was also grateful to be able to grab on to the figures as she went, doing her best to keep from damaging them as she went about her task. Still it was exhausting work, and the cold, mitigated by her cloak, quickly settled in. She'd never been in a rainstorm this immense before, this persistent. Was it truly a natural occurrence.
"Ah!" she cried out as she tried to make sure not to lose the cloth to the wind and keep her balance. As she carefully unwound it she realized with a sinking sense of dread that it was beginning. She was so close to the end! She struggled hard against the statues that bound her. "W-what is happening...?" she demanded quietly, turning as she saw the statue of Aspia. "A-ah please..." goosebumps rose from wherever the claw traced, it sent tingles down her spine, a sensation she wanted to enjoy, was indeed helpless to enjoy, but feared what came next.
Her eyes locked on to the final statuesque figure and she found herself momentarily stunned by its beauty. "W-who are you...?" But she was certain she knew. "P-please tell me what's going on, please...?" She wanted to fight, to struggle but with each event she was steadily realizing how futile it was. Each dream, or vision, went the same. Her body would betray her thoughts, the sensations would overwhelm her until she was powerless against her assailant. "Don't," she began but felt her body shudder against its touch. She felt a rising sense of panic smothered regarding the claw as it slid in and she could do nothing but melt into that desire, her hips moved without consent, trying to bury it further inside her, sure that it would bring her further and further please. Her entire body, tensed to the moment relaxed in the hands that grabbed her.
She was so sure, so ready that when it happened again that this time she would fight, that she would be stronger and resist and yet once more the instant it began it was like she was powerless, a puppet on strings directed by desire.
The hiss of the sword drove only the faintest glimmer of sense to her thoughts. She vaguely stirred, finding herself falling once more under the tide of pleasure that gratefully swallowed her up.
In the back of her mind that still fought she prayed for some way to resist, that she could be stronger, that someone might help her overcome, but it was such a small part.
"H-huhn?" She blinked groggily, Ilara had brought her back in. She dimly accepted the offer of clothes and towel, shivering but not entirely from the cold. What happened...? The statues...was that him...? "Should I...?" She began to gather herself once again, feeling a hot surge of anger and shame both. Again! Again she was so helpless!
"It wasn't too hard, the enchanted cloth helped a lot," she noted quietly trying to return the conversation. "Will she still be available? It seems important I not delay," still she was tired, and marshaling her strength for the encounter seemed important. But...what if another event occurred while she slept? She let her body make the decision, if she was exhausted she would agree to a short nap, asking Ilara to wake her up before too much time had passed, but otherwise she would ask where to find her and set out.