<center> WARNING: EXPLICIT SEXUAL ACT M/F </center>
<center> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PART 11 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ </center>
Michael woke up, knowing Isabel was restless having a nightmare, he could feel the strong connection to Vilandra. He could almost see what she was experiencing, but it was foggy. Still he could not make out what was troubling her. All he knew was something was disturbing her. He was concentrating hard on braking through, making an effort to see the scene before her, but it was impossible. He had to see what was going on in her dream to make sure she was safe. He didn’t feel Ki’var, yet something was upsetting her.
He slid Maria out from around him; she sighed in her sleep and turned over. Michael gently got up from the bed, threw on a pair of jeans and stole silently to the door. He looked back at Maria sleeping. The sheets had dropped down slightly showing the sensuous curve of her back and her round ass, inviting him to a episode of passion and erotic lust. Michael took a deep cleansing breath, got himself under control even though the lower half was at full mast.
“Damn” he breathed out as he tuned towards the bed, stripping off his jeans in one fluid movement. He almost pounced on Maria he was so ready for her, but restrained a little as he gathered her in his arms, cuddling her from behind. Her ass fit snuggly in his lap, and he grew harder and harder. He started nipping and kissing her neck, rousing her from her dreams.
Maria in her sleep had scrunched up two pillows under her that raised her ass at just the right angle for Michael to position his legs right between hers as he shifted his weight. Michael slipped his hand slowly down her back following the curve of her ass trying to reach the part of her that made her moan and move in pleasure. He watching her face, still asleep having the best sex dream of her life, a dream he planned on making reality.
Michael could slip in a little, she was responding to his hands. As the passage grew slicker and slicker he slipped further in. Her hips began to move, unconsciously sliding back and forth just a fraction on his hard cock. She was sending Michael into spasms of sheer torture as he tried to refrain from fucking her hard and fast. He could tell she was enjoying this slow pace; her lips drew in a faint smile as she began to moan softly. That sound, that throaty noise of pleasure caused Michael to come unglued in his need and desire of her and he pushed forward, fully lodging his cock deep inside her, pulling back to repeat the action.
It was then that her eyes flew opened; he smiled at his success as he picked up the action. He bent forward, his voice harsh with desire, thick with lust as he coaxed her emotions with words said between lovers in the midnight hours. He picked up the pace as he fed the words she ached to hear. Those words of need, sensual, seductive verbs, images flooding the mind, frantic flashes of worlds far and near. Then suddenly as Michael entered that time, the time of culmination, Ki’var appeared before his very eyes as he exploded inside of Maria. It was only for a brief fraction of second, a mere blink of the eye, but Michel knew what he had seen, it was Ki’var in the flesh.
Vilandra: Terror in the Night (CC Adult) A/N 01/28/08[WIP]
Moderators: Anniepoo98, ISLANDGIRL5, truelovepooh, Forum Moderators
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suicide_eagle_rath
- Obsessed Roswellian
- Posts: 567
- Joined: Tue Nov 01, 2005 1:20 pm
- Location: Dimaras Rock, Antar
- Contact:
-
suicide_eagle_rath
- Obsessed Roswellian
- Posts: 567
- Joined: Tue Nov 01, 2005 1:20 pm
- Location: Dimaras Rock, Antar
- Contact:
Hey RiaRath101 and Duccia thanks as always for the feedback, you guys are great.
Open invitation to attend my author’s chat on Oct 10th (6 EST) at Roswell Heaven. If you wish to find out how my demented little mind works feel free to come and ask me WTF ...lol s_e_r
<center> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PART 12 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ </center>
From the instant, Ki’var appeared Michael became Rath, instantly the warrior took over. The only problem being Michael was not exactly in the best position, at that very second, for a fight. The only problem being that for the first time Rath was enjoying all the elements of Michael’s emotional and physical abilities. He had not felt such love, even between Vilandra and himself, a love he was willing to die for, there was not this humanized emotional attachment. Maybe that element, that human difference, maybe that is what Rath noticed right away, he was not sure, something was different, an odd sensation.
Rath knew eventually the two of them would have to blend to become a new being; just how much Michael and or Rath there would be in the end was the question. But what the did know right then and there, was that he had to disengage himself from this woman, find Ki’var and discover how he was making himself appear from Antar. Rath quickly calculated that if discarded the female under him like one of the royal concubines, he would take heat later form Michael, let alone the flames this human called Maria could toss. He would have to be delicate, to pull out and gently calm her back into the sleep plane so he could exit the room with notice.
And doing just so, Rath expelled himself from her, stroking her back and he laid his hand on her spinal column, at the base of the neck. Exerting extreme caution he send a small electrical discharge up thought that column, into her brain to alter and confused the neutrons that were in the pleasure and sleep sections of the brain. He carefully implanted a fictionist dream memory, vivid sex illusion, while lulling her back into REM sleep. As soon as he felt her go under, Rah was out of the room. From the time Ki’var had appeared before Michael’s eyes to the time Rath arrived at Isabel’s door, less than a minute in real time had commenced, yet dream time accounted for hours
With nothing but a thought, he opened the locked door, and rushed in, expecting to see Ki’var leering over Vilandra, instead, what he did find was an empty room except for a naked Isabel, lying in a heap on the bed crying softly. He closed the door quickly behind, as he silently jumped upon the bed, taking her in his arms. She was shuddering from not only the cold, but also trauma. He soothed her head drawing back her hair out of her face. Covering her in a blanket Michael, no Rath, drew Vilandra up into the bed. She was moaning in her sleep, as he gently tied to wake her. He knew she was in pain, he could feel it.
Moving the blanket gently, he looked at her legs bruised; he knew Ki’var had been there. “Damn!” he held back the anger that was forming in his gut, the sickening feeling as it was happening all over again. But this time he knew it was a ploy, he would not be fooled like last time. It was useless to go after Ki’var now, he had already gone; those electrical charges, he was using them to rip time and space, to enter this realm.
Rath looked at her thighs again as he knew what had to be done. This was not a job for Max. Rath looked at her face as his hands began gliding over her skin, smoothly, she was so much like his Vilandra; he could feel her inside, burning for him. The bruising continued into the delicate area of her body, as he examined the skin, healing it as he moved. He would like nothing more than to taste her, to use his tongue to heal the inner tissue, the scent was overpowering to him, the warrior side was flaring up, the need to take his woman, to make her his. He remembered so well the feeling of her, being inside her as they made love on Antar.
Vilandra started coming around as she felt his hands on her. At first she was started as her eyes flew open only to see, the top of Rath’s head as he had a bee-line view of her sex, she could feel the healing warmth of this hands and knew what he was doing. She relaxed as she reached out to stroke his hair; she was enjoying the feel of his hands, those long fingers as he delicately prodded her and healed her from within. Normally this would had been a very arousing event, but she was far from wanting sex at that moment, she was content with the safe feeling Rath was emitting.
Rath felt her awaken and loved her stroking his hair as he concentrated on healing her in the most unobtrusive way. He knew deep inside he could not fuck her there and then, no matter what one part of his body was straining to do. He was not that insensitive, that stupid, well maybe real close but he knew if he tried it now Vilandra would can his ass.
He finished, and withdrew his finger as he pulled the covers up over Vilandra. He then came up, snuggling her in, soothing her head. They spoke of soft matters, as he quietly lulled her back to sleep; a dreamless sleep he made sure of. He would stand guard, till morning, planning Ki’var’s death
Open invitation to attend my author’s chat on Oct 10th (6 EST) at Roswell Heaven. If you wish to find out how my demented little mind works feel free to come and ask me WTF ...lol s_e_r
<center> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PART 12 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ </center>
From the instant, Ki’var appeared Michael became Rath, instantly the warrior took over. The only problem being Michael was not exactly in the best position, at that very second, for a fight. The only problem being that for the first time Rath was enjoying all the elements of Michael’s emotional and physical abilities. He had not felt such love, even between Vilandra and himself, a love he was willing to die for, there was not this humanized emotional attachment. Maybe that element, that human difference, maybe that is what Rath noticed right away, he was not sure, something was different, an odd sensation.
Rath knew eventually the two of them would have to blend to become a new being; just how much Michael and or Rath there would be in the end was the question. But what the did know right then and there, was that he had to disengage himself from this woman, find Ki’var and discover how he was making himself appear from Antar. Rath quickly calculated that if discarded the female under him like one of the royal concubines, he would take heat later form Michael, let alone the flames this human called Maria could toss. He would have to be delicate, to pull out and gently calm her back into the sleep plane so he could exit the room with notice.
And doing just so, Rath expelled himself from her, stroking her back and he laid his hand on her spinal column, at the base of the neck. Exerting extreme caution he send a small electrical discharge up thought that column, into her brain to alter and confused the neutrons that were in the pleasure and sleep sections of the brain. He carefully implanted a fictionist dream memory, vivid sex illusion, while lulling her back into REM sleep. As soon as he felt her go under, Rah was out of the room. From the time Ki’var had appeared before Michael’s eyes to the time Rath arrived at Isabel’s door, less than a minute in real time had commenced, yet dream time accounted for hours
With nothing but a thought, he opened the locked door, and rushed in, expecting to see Ki’var leering over Vilandra, instead, what he did find was an empty room except for a naked Isabel, lying in a heap on the bed crying softly. He closed the door quickly behind, as he silently jumped upon the bed, taking her in his arms. She was shuddering from not only the cold, but also trauma. He soothed her head drawing back her hair out of her face. Covering her in a blanket Michael, no Rath, drew Vilandra up into the bed. She was moaning in her sleep, as he gently tied to wake her. He knew she was in pain, he could feel it.
Moving the blanket gently, he looked at her legs bruised; he knew Ki’var had been there. “Damn!” he held back the anger that was forming in his gut, the sickening feeling as it was happening all over again. But this time he knew it was a ploy, he would not be fooled like last time. It was useless to go after Ki’var now, he had already gone; those electrical charges, he was using them to rip time and space, to enter this realm.
Rath looked at her thighs again as he knew what had to be done. This was not a job for Max. Rath looked at her face as his hands began gliding over her skin, smoothly, she was so much like his Vilandra; he could feel her inside, burning for him. The bruising continued into the delicate area of her body, as he examined the skin, healing it as he moved. He would like nothing more than to taste her, to use his tongue to heal the inner tissue, the scent was overpowering to him, the warrior side was flaring up, the need to take his woman, to make her his. He remembered so well the feeling of her, being inside her as they made love on Antar.
Vilandra started coming around as she felt his hands on her. At first she was started as her eyes flew open only to see, the top of Rath’s head as he had a bee-line view of her sex, she could feel the healing warmth of this hands and knew what he was doing. She relaxed as she reached out to stroke his hair; she was enjoying the feel of his hands, those long fingers as he delicately prodded her and healed her from within. Normally this would had been a very arousing event, but she was far from wanting sex at that moment, she was content with the safe feeling Rath was emitting.
Rath felt her awaken and loved her stroking his hair as he concentrated on healing her in the most unobtrusive way. He knew deep inside he could not fuck her there and then, no matter what one part of his body was straining to do. He was not that insensitive, that stupid, well maybe real close but he knew if he tried it now Vilandra would can his ass.
He finished, and withdrew his finger as he pulled the covers up over Vilandra. He then came up, snuggling her in, soothing her head. They spoke of soft matters, as he quietly lulled her back to sleep; a dreamless sleep he made sure of. He would stand guard, till morning, planning Ki’var’s death
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suicide_eagle_rath
- Obsessed Roswellian
- Posts: 567
- Joined: Tue Nov 01, 2005 1:20 pm
- Location: Dimaras Rock, Antar
- Contact:
TO: RiaRath101, Duccia, Flamehair, and ñusta thanks as always for the feedback, you keep me going. s_e_r
<center> WARNING: EXPLICIT SEXUAL ACT M/F </center>
<center> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PART 13 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ </center>
Rath felt himself fall asleep; memories began to surface those memories he had hidden for so many years, memories so violence, rape, horrible visions. The time he went mad, the time just before their deaths. The fog grew heavier in his mind as the palace rooms opened before him and he saw himself enter that bedroom on that day. Back to the day when he was called TellymonRath, the warrior, in whose veins ran cold, harden from years of battle. But on that day, he was broken, devastated, the kingdom soon would fall reflecting his own personal downfall.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TellymonRath watched from the shadows as the figures on the bed grunted, moaned and panted in their betrayal and lust. He could not believe it was true what Zan had said.
Ki’var stripped Vilandra’s dress downward revealing her breast the nipples begging him to be the one to touch, kiss, and suckle them. Using small circles Ki'var tongue trace the outline of one breast and then the other. He sucked on breast and then another, his hands pushing her dress downwards, off her body pass her slightly domed stomach, down over her firm white ass, and finally onto the floor.
Vilandra shivered at the cold air reached her skin, standing there naked except for her heels, wrapped in his arms pressing against him, beckoning his body to come into hers. Ki'var pushed her down on the bed kissing his way down her soft heated flesh yielded under his pressure as he slowly ran his fingers back and forth across her hot center. She arched her back driving his fingers in deeper, he raised his head and once again latched onto her nipples elating a cry from her lips “Ki’var....”
TellymonRath fell to his knees at that name, tears dropped like rain. Zan was right, his Vilandra, the only one he truly loved had betrayed him. His heart cracked letting in the Dark Waters as his mind turned to madness.
He watched them in the candlelight having sex, they were not making love, only he and Vilandra did that with passion and love, no these two were animals, plain and simple. This was not his Vilandra, his love, the one he would die for if asked. No his Vilandra was his mother, his sister, his lover, his life, without her there was nothing. The cries of raw lust penetrated Tellymon’s ears as he heard Vilandra called out Ki’var’s name over and over as he sank into her. TellymonRath could see Vilandra head thrown back in ecstasy as Ki’var brought her legs up over his shoulders. With the blade he could end it now, thrust deeply between those shoulders, TellymonRath tried to move, but his body was refusing orders from the brain. He was in shock, something he had never experience before.
TellymonRath put his head down, trying to block out the pain, dampen the retched sounds, to cut off the connection to her. The smell of sex was overpowering his nose, the sound of Ki’var’s balls slapping against her butt hammed loudly in TellymonRath’s ears, Ki’var’s seed exploding inside of Vilandra sent shock waves through TellymonRath’s body as he felt her organism. He failed as he clearly heard the words that killed him, his heart that night stopped.
“Why am I here Vilandra?” asked Ki’var.
“Because you are a man. I desire a man not a boy.” Vilandra said in a flat distant monotone voice. “I love you. You are everything to me.” The tone of her voice never wavered, no fluctuations, no dynamics, it was if the words had been rehearsed.
“Good. I will send for you my love when the time is right.” Ki’var stood and exited the room, his guards having imitated the Imperial Guards were at her door ready to escort the hooded figure out.
<center> WARNING: EXPLICIT SEXUAL ACT M/F </center>
<center> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PART 13 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ </center>
Rath felt himself fall asleep; memories began to surface those memories he had hidden for so many years, memories so violence, rape, horrible visions. The time he went mad, the time just before their deaths. The fog grew heavier in his mind as the palace rooms opened before him and he saw himself enter that bedroom on that day. Back to the day when he was called TellymonRath, the warrior, in whose veins ran cold, harden from years of battle. But on that day, he was broken, devastated, the kingdom soon would fall reflecting his own personal downfall.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TellymonRath watched from the shadows as the figures on the bed grunted, moaned and panted in their betrayal and lust. He could not believe it was true what Zan had said.
Ki’var stripped Vilandra’s dress downward revealing her breast the nipples begging him to be the one to touch, kiss, and suckle them. Using small circles Ki'var tongue trace the outline of one breast and then the other. He sucked on breast and then another, his hands pushing her dress downwards, off her body pass her slightly domed stomach, down over her firm white ass, and finally onto the floor.
Vilandra shivered at the cold air reached her skin, standing there naked except for her heels, wrapped in his arms pressing against him, beckoning his body to come into hers. Ki'var pushed her down on the bed kissing his way down her soft heated flesh yielded under his pressure as he slowly ran his fingers back and forth across her hot center. She arched her back driving his fingers in deeper, he raised his head and once again latched onto her nipples elating a cry from her lips “Ki’var....”
TellymonRath fell to his knees at that name, tears dropped like rain. Zan was right, his Vilandra, the only one he truly loved had betrayed him. His heart cracked letting in the Dark Waters as his mind turned to madness.
He watched them in the candlelight having sex, they were not making love, only he and Vilandra did that with passion and love, no these two were animals, plain and simple. This was not his Vilandra, his love, the one he would die for if asked. No his Vilandra was his mother, his sister, his lover, his life, without her there was nothing. The cries of raw lust penetrated Tellymon’s ears as he heard Vilandra called out Ki’var’s name over and over as he sank into her. TellymonRath could see Vilandra head thrown back in ecstasy as Ki’var brought her legs up over his shoulders. With the blade he could end it now, thrust deeply between those shoulders, TellymonRath tried to move, but his body was refusing orders from the brain. He was in shock, something he had never experience before.
TellymonRath put his head down, trying to block out the pain, dampen the retched sounds, to cut off the connection to her. The smell of sex was overpowering his nose, the sound of Ki’var’s balls slapping against her butt hammed loudly in TellymonRath’s ears, Ki’var’s seed exploding inside of Vilandra sent shock waves through TellymonRath’s body as he felt her organism. He failed as he clearly heard the words that killed him, his heart that night stopped.
“Why am I here Vilandra?” asked Ki’var.
“Because you are a man. I desire a man not a boy.” Vilandra said in a flat distant monotone voice. “I love you. You are everything to me.” The tone of her voice never wavered, no fluctuations, no dynamics, it was if the words had been rehearsed.
“Good. I will send for you my love when the time is right.” Ki’var stood and exited the room, his guards having imitated the Imperial Guards were at her door ready to escort the hooded figure out.
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suicide_eagle_rath
- Obsessed Roswellian
- Posts: 567
- Joined: Tue Nov 01, 2005 1:20 pm
- Location: Dimaras Rock, Antar
- Contact:
OKAY PEOPLE: PREWARNED
Remember: This is not Michael nor a cross with Rath... this is the original Rath who was quite psychotic on the battlefield and could be very bloodthirsty. Because of his war experience, he was known to have periods of madness driven on by his involvement in what can be referred to as the “dark waters” (evil influences). He has gone literally mad at this point, crazed beyond reason, his life destroyed by the sexual act he witnessed.
<center> WARNING: EXPLICIT SEXUAL ACT M/F </center>
<center> WARNING: EXPLICIT RAPE SCENE M/F </center>
<center> WARNING: VIOLENCE </center>
<center> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PART 14~~~~~~~~~~~~~ </center>
Vilandra climbed out of bed, her body glistened with sweat. She turned waving her hands, refreshed and changed the linens so no one would be wiser. Then she strolled into the bathroom where she activated the bathing pool filling it full of pale pink bubbles. She was unaware of her actions, what she had been doing. She woke to find herself sitting at her vanity staring at the mirror, with a false dream memory implanted in her mind.
She smiled at herself as she sang a nonsense song, happy because TellymonRath should be home soon, and she could not wait to make love to him all night. The baby in her womb leapt at the happy thoughts in her mind, she was so in love with her husband and desired him greatly, however in another week, sex will be off limits as her time will be close, and tonight may be one of their last chances if he is called back to war. She smiled, thinking about their passion and how they created the boy inside her.
~~~
In the bedroom, TellymonRath was circling the bed, absorbing the imagery that still radiated from their sex. “Whore you will never know what hit you.” his mind was completely taken over by the Dark Waters, the evil of madness, of atrocities.
“Fucking whore wants a man and not a boy.” He looked at himself in the mirror frozen against the wall and saw not a warrior but a frail boy; worthless, penniless, dirty; a boy that was no better than a slave was, nothing, no value; to be to be used by sick men as a tool, never to be loved or know love.
Vilandra, finished drying herself off then chose a negligee that hid some of her swelled abdomen, she wanted to look slim and sexy for him. Although she knew TellymonRath loved her pregnant, he would kiss her whale of a stomach, laughing as the child would kick back at him, still she was very concerned about how she presented herself to him. Spraying on a perfume, she knew he would devour, she dried her hair and headed for bed to ready herself in that perfect pose.
The second she walked back into their bedroom, TellymonRath stepped behind a pillar firmly grasping her by the neck, his knife cutting into the white flesh that betrayed his love. He slammed her up against a wall, feeling her body gasp for breath, writing beneath his gripe, her neck dripping with blood.
“Tellymon stop what are you doing?” she cried “What have I done wrong?”
TellymonRath’s eyes were clouded over with rage; his ears deaf for he could not hear her shrieks of terror. Using his blade, he stripped her negligee off her body, exposing her as the cold, naked, bitch that he saw in his heart. He pulled his knife down her body nipping the skin here or there drawing blood almost elating in the pleasure he derived from tormenting those who opposed him. She was now the enemy; he was in full warrior mode, no pity, no mercy for the enemies whom he slew without a thought.
Vilandra tried to reason with him, her rational pleas were interjected with screaming; it was her own voice, almost unrecognizable to her. He was dead to her pleas, to her cries of help; the rage was too deep; his heart was black, emotionless. Unexpectedly, with a roar of anger, he embedded the knife into the marble wall behind her head, terrorizing Vilandra even more.
“Tellymon?” cried out Vilandra “Why?”
“Whore,” growled TellymonRath as he slapped her across the face. Picking her up, he threw her onto the edge of the bed, her legs dangling off the side. Stripping his clothes off, Tellymon took his cock, hardened with anger and hate, ramming into her with one swift movement. “I am not stopping.” Tellymon hissed into her ear, “so you might as well relax and enjoy it. After all this is not the first time you have been on your back today.”
“No...” Vilandra screamed as his hand slapped her face again. “Tellymon, please no, you are hurting me.” Vilandra flailed about, trying to get him off her. She scratched his back digging her nails in deep, drawing blood. All her attempts simply brought out the primal intentions that envenomed his heart.
“Please I beg you to stop. Noooooo!”
TellymonRath ignored her; he was out of control; he was set on hurting Vilandra as much as he could. Her thighs started showing signs of bruises where he clutched her tightly, savagely digging into her flesh with his nails. Tears were rolling down her face, it hurt, and it was hurting more with each thrust. Her skin was coming off in his hands as her blood began to cover the sheets.
“So how does it feel...” demanded TellymonRath. “Do I feel like him?”
He drove his cock, harder and faster into her moving her hips, making them crash into him with such force her bones felt as though they would break. “Does this feel like him?” He slapped her again in the face with the back of his hand.
“What’s wrong with me...” asked TellymonRath, “What you don’t think I am a man?”
With that, he pulled out of Vilandra turned her over shoving her face into the mattress and entered her ass as hard as he could in one push. She screamed from the pain, it was unbearable. “I am a man. I am not a child.”
The constant barrage upon her body was sending Vilandra into shock as she pleaded over and over, not only for herself but also for the child within.
“Please Tellymon stop.” Vilandra begged. She had no idea why he was doing this to her. Her insides were on fire, she had never felt such pain before. Taking a big gulp of air, she stuttered out, “Please, I do not know what you are taking about.”
Thos words, instead of calming him, only succeeded in making TellymonRath angrier, as he slapped her butt cheeks over and over again until they were bright red. “Liar, whore, how dare you betray me like that to my enemy.” He slapped her harder as he continued his assault deep inside her.
“How could you do this to me, to us, to the throne?” TellymonRath was on the verge of tears; Vilandra heard his voice crack, she knew she had to get to him inside to his feelings.
“Tellymon, your son, you will hurt him.” Vilandra at that point was over two weeks pregnant with the heir to the throne of Kandahar, a son he had so desperately wanted after the birth of only girls. A son he desperately need to secure his place in the dynasty, in the history of Antar.
“My son or his?” The thought that the child was the son of his mortal enemy was more than Tellymon could handle. “Were you waiting for him, to give him a son. It that it?” He slapped her again on her butt. Vilandra was weeping opening, no words came out. She felt thought she was going to rip in half from the force, she wanted to die. “Do you have any idea what that bastard has done to me? And you laid in our bed with him?”
Tellymon exploded inside her; he was so full of hate and anger at this point he was shaking from the venom that was coursing through his veins, driving him mad, forcing him to do things he would had otherwise doe. Withdrawing, he threw her off the bed onto the floor. Taking a cloak, he tossed it to her as he pointed to the door.
“Leave! Go to him but you will live a servant you will no longer be a princess of Kandahar. You will never be queen. You will be a slave in his harem, a harlot, a fallen woman who left her husband and status for what nothing.”
TellymonRath voice was cold. Vacant at that point, his mind had spiraled out of control. “My daughters stay here. Go! Go to him give him his son and never come back. The House of Rath is dead to you.”
With that, he tore his ring from her hand and threw it; the ring rolled under the edging of the intricate carved baseboards lodging in a small niche.
Clutching the cloak, he watched her run terror crazed out the door. TellymonRath collapsed onto the floor crying; for the first time in his life, he was crying because his heart was broken. Energy exploded from his body as the room exploded in fire, seconds later nothing was left but ashes.
Remember: This is not Michael nor a cross with Rath... this is the original Rath who was quite psychotic on the battlefield and could be very bloodthirsty. Because of his war experience, he was known to have periods of madness driven on by his involvement in what can be referred to as the “dark waters” (evil influences). He has gone literally mad at this point, crazed beyond reason, his life destroyed by the sexual act he witnessed.
<center> WARNING: EXPLICIT SEXUAL ACT M/F </center>
<center> WARNING: EXPLICIT RAPE SCENE M/F </center>
<center> WARNING: VIOLENCE </center>
<center> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PART 14~~~~~~~~~~~~~ </center>
Vilandra climbed out of bed, her body glistened with sweat. She turned waving her hands, refreshed and changed the linens so no one would be wiser. Then she strolled into the bathroom where she activated the bathing pool filling it full of pale pink bubbles. She was unaware of her actions, what she had been doing. She woke to find herself sitting at her vanity staring at the mirror, with a false dream memory implanted in her mind.
She smiled at herself as she sang a nonsense song, happy because TellymonRath should be home soon, and she could not wait to make love to him all night. The baby in her womb leapt at the happy thoughts in her mind, she was so in love with her husband and desired him greatly, however in another week, sex will be off limits as her time will be close, and tonight may be one of their last chances if he is called back to war. She smiled, thinking about their passion and how they created the boy inside her.
~~~
In the bedroom, TellymonRath was circling the bed, absorbing the imagery that still radiated from their sex. “Whore you will never know what hit you.” his mind was completely taken over by the Dark Waters, the evil of madness, of atrocities.
“Fucking whore wants a man and not a boy.” He looked at himself in the mirror frozen against the wall and saw not a warrior but a frail boy; worthless, penniless, dirty; a boy that was no better than a slave was, nothing, no value; to be to be used by sick men as a tool, never to be loved or know love.
Vilandra, finished drying herself off then chose a negligee that hid some of her swelled abdomen, she wanted to look slim and sexy for him. Although she knew TellymonRath loved her pregnant, he would kiss her whale of a stomach, laughing as the child would kick back at him, still she was very concerned about how she presented herself to him. Spraying on a perfume, she knew he would devour, she dried her hair and headed for bed to ready herself in that perfect pose.
The second she walked back into their bedroom, TellymonRath stepped behind a pillar firmly grasping her by the neck, his knife cutting into the white flesh that betrayed his love. He slammed her up against a wall, feeling her body gasp for breath, writing beneath his gripe, her neck dripping with blood.
“Tellymon stop what are you doing?” she cried “What have I done wrong?”
TellymonRath’s eyes were clouded over with rage; his ears deaf for he could not hear her shrieks of terror. Using his blade, he stripped her negligee off her body, exposing her as the cold, naked, bitch that he saw in his heart. He pulled his knife down her body nipping the skin here or there drawing blood almost elating in the pleasure he derived from tormenting those who opposed him. She was now the enemy; he was in full warrior mode, no pity, no mercy for the enemies whom he slew without a thought.
Vilandra tried to reason with him, her rational pleas were interjected with screaming; it was her own voice, almost unrecognizable to her. He was dead to her pleas, to her cries of help; the rage was too deep; his heart was black, emotionless. Unexpectedly, with a roar of anger, he embedded the knife into the marble wall behind her head, terrorizing Vilandra even more.
“Tellymon?” cried out Vilandra “Why?”
“Whore,” growled TellymonRath as he slapped her across the face. Picking her up, he threw her onto the edge of the bed, her legs dangling off the side. Stripping his clothes off, Tellymon took his cock, hardened with anger and hate, ramming into her with one swift movement. “I am not stopping.” Tellymon hissed into her ear, “so you might as well relax and enjoy it. After all this is not the first time you have been on your back today.”
“No...” Vilandra screamed as his hand slapped her face again. “Tellymon, please no, you are hurting me.” Vilandra flailed about, trying to get him off her. She scratched his back digging her nails in deep, drawing blood. All her attempts simply brought out the primal intentions that envenomed his heart.
“Please I beg you to stop. Noooooo!”
TellymonRath ignored her; he was out of control; he was set on hurting Vilandra as much as he could. Her thighs started showing signs of bruises where he clutched her tightly, savagely digging into her flesh with his nails. Tears were rolling down her face, it hurt, and it was hurting more with each thrust. Her skin was coming off in his hands as her blood began to cover the sheets.
“So how does it feel...” demanded TellymonRath. “Do I feel like him?”
He drove his cock, harder and faster into her moving her hips, making them crash into him with such force her bones felt as though they would break. “Does this feel like him?” He slapped her again in the face with the back of his hand.
“What’s wrong with me...” asked TellymonRath, “What you don’t think I am a man?”
With that, he pulled out of Vilandra turned her over shoving her face into the mattress and entered her ass as hard as he could in one push. She screamed from the pain, it was unbearable. “I am a man. I am not a child.”
The constant barrage upon her body was sending Vilandra into shock as she pleaded over and over, not only for herself but also for the child within.
“Please Tellymon stop.” Vilandra begged. She had no idea why he was doing this to her. Her insides were on fire, she had never felt such pain before. Taking a big gulp of air, she stuttered out, “Please, I do not know what you are taking about.”
Thos words, instead of calming him, only succeeded in making TellymonRath angrier, as he slapped her butt cheeks over and over again until they were bright red. “Liar, whore, how dare you betray me like that to my enemy.” He slapped her harder as he continued his assault deep inside her.
“How could you do this to me, to us, to the throne?” TellymonRath was on the verge of tears; Vilandra heard his voice crack, she knew she had to get to him inside to his feelings.
“Tellymon, your son, you will hurt him.” Vilandra at that point was over two weeks pregnant with the heir to the throne of Kandahar, a son he had so desperately wanted after the birth of only girls. A son he desperately need to secure his place in the dynasty, in the history of Antar.
“My son or his?” The thought that the child was the son of his mortal enemy was more than Tellymon could handle. “Were you waiting for him, to give him a son. It that it?” He slapped her again on her butt. Vilandra was weeping opening, no words came out. She felt thought she was going to rip in half from the force, she wanted to die. “Do you have any idea what that bastard has done to me? And you laid in our bed with him?”
Tellymon exploded inside her; he was so full of hate and anger at this point he was shaking from the venom that was coursing through his veins, driving him mad, forcing him to do things he would had otherwise doe. Withdrawing, he threw her off the bed onto the floor. Taking a cloak, he tossed it to her as he pointed to the door.
“Leave! Go to him but you will live a servant you will no longer be a princess of Kandahar. You will never be queen. You will be a slave in his harem, a harlot, a fallen woman who left her husband and status for what nothing.”
TellymonRath voice was cold. Vacant at that point, his mind had spiraled out of control. “My daughters stay here. Go! Go to him give him his son and never come back. The House of Rath is dead to you.”
With that, he tore his ring from her hand and threw it; the ring rolled under the edging of the intricate carved baseboards lodging in a small niche.
Clutching the cloak, he watched her run terror crazed out the door. TellymonRath collapsed onto the floor crying; for the first time in his life, he was crying because his heart was broken. Energy exploded from his body as the room exploded in fire, seconds later nothing was left but ashes.
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suicide_eagle_rath
- Obsessed Roswellian
- Posts: 567
- Joined: Tue Nov 01, 2005 1:20 pm
- Location: Dimaras Rock, Antar
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I want to thank everyone for being so patient with me …..… hugs to all
I also want to thank thetvgeneral for volunteering to beta the story and help get me back into gear
<center> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ PART 15~~~~~~~~~~~~~ </center>
Michael shot up in bed, drenched in sweat, his hands trembling, as he looked about, looking for the fire that had consumed that room. His eyes shone the blackness, the alien side awakened, on alert, looking for the danger. For a few seconds he was still on Antar, watching the flames all around him, wanting them to consume him, to burn him to ashes.
He stayed there kneeling in that room, wanting to end the pain, to commit suicide, but his attempt failed as in his madness he was no longer in control. That act triggered an internal self-protection training that still existed deep in his psyche. That defense mechanism shielded Rath that night from the flames, protecting him as the intense fire devoured everything in its wake.
Michael’s eyes soon adjusted to where he was, back in the old farmhouse, lying in bed with Isabel curled up next to him. He took a deep breath gathering his wits about him. Visions, everything was so clear to him now, the past was revealed, opened up to him on a marble cutting board. He now remembered everything about their lives, their loves, their defeats, their betrayals. It was now opened up all to him. Michael knew all that Rath had done and how to use his alien nature; for once he had the upper hand in the battle with Ki’var.
He looked down at Isabel asleep, she looked so peaceful; he pushed back her hair, the strands of gold shook in his passing. This was his wife, from another life, from another memory. Looking down at her, he could not deny the fact Rath was deeply in love with her, and that feelings had transcended to him.
How was he going to explain to Maria his feelings for Vilandra? Michael sighed heavy; he had no idea what he was going to do. He was married to Maria and would remain so, at least for her mortal existence. He instinctively knew that with the Antarian DNA he would live longer, much longer. Rath and Vilandra would have to wait until both were free to marry, to be with other, that much Michael knew. That admission weighed heavy upon him, he loved her so much, she was a part of his being, his alien consciousness, but he could not leave Maria for he loved her also, with his human heart.
Michael leaned over and kissed her cheek before he got up and left quietly. He needed to clear his head, to get some fresh air. He slipped down the halfway. Stopping momentarily he checked on Maria by placing his hand on the door. He could feel her still asleep, dreaming of erotic sex with him on some beach. Michael smiled as he thought to himself that he needed to make that fantasy come true. He did the same thing at Max’s door to make sure he and Liz were fast asleep. Then he stole down the stairs and out the door.
Michael moved through the darkness, it was always a warrior’s friend, the ink of a moonless night, the unsuspecting appearance to an enemy. Tonight though instead of being on alert Michael was deep in concentration as all the memories had drowned him in a flood, a torrent. One minute he knew nothing the next a lifetime of sights, sounds, smells, and emotions he could barely handle let alone comprehend. It was so strange to know you had lived before, to have existed in another place, another time, maybe even another dimension: to have lived, to have loved, to have died. Michael closed his eyes; he remembered those last few moments, as his breath ebbed away. Vilandra was there, she caused his death, for it was she that ended his torment.
The night air was frosted, charged with coldness; death stillness filled the air as he walked. How far he did not know, but he was deep in the fields where no human could see him. Screaming into the dark, he released his tormented soul. Taking a scoop of dirt he threw it up into the air then watched as golden drops rained down all about him. He screamed into the darkness, he screamed for the pain that he endured, he screamed for the deaths of Zan and Vilandra, and he screamed for the death of Antar.
“You never learn do you Rath?” The voice came from the dark, a voice from the past, from the days of yore. “You never could control you temper, your passion, your fears.”
Michael turned to see his mortal enemy advancing towards him, the man who killed, who raped his wife, the monster who killed his son: Ki’var