02.Nov.12, 09:44 AM
The greenrider whimpered, eyes widening and face paling dramatically as S'kef's blood dripped on his face. B'jin's body jerked with a dry heave, the taste of blood on his tongue thick and heavy; his eyes watered, tears toppling down the sides of his face. The following sight of the brownrider licking his lips did little to help settle B'jin's suddenly very upset stomach and he gagged, jerking away from S'kef as the man tightened his grip on him, lips - and blood - lingering over the sensitive skin around his ear. B'jin shrunk away, whining softly at the combined horror of blood on his face and the disturbing rippling shiver the brush of lips sent down his spine.
Eyes widened as S'kef spoke, brown gaze jerking around, seeking an escape the rider knew he wouldn't be granted before snapping back to stare at S'kef in horror. Ask? Ask for wha-- B'jin yelped unintentionally as the brownrider struck his face; the greenrider shrank away, eyes squinting against the retained sting as he stared up at the now sitting form above him, gasping as he was jerked up to follow: than hissing painfully as he was returned to the floor, head meeting floor with enough force to have him seeing black and silver. The words S'kef was spitting at him were lost in the whirlwind of trying to get his gaze to focus, blinking rapidly even as hands struggled, gripping S'kef's wrist at his shirt front with cold, desperate fingers.
B'jin cried out lowly as he was slammed back into the floor, the hand in his hair ripping at his scalp enough to case a new and tingling sensation of pain to ripple across his skull. For perhaps the first time, B'jin was seriously glad for the length it had obtained; if S'kef removed a handful he might be able to hide it. He dismissed the fact that if he hadn't allowed it, there wouldn't be very much for the brownrider to grip at any rate. S'kef would have found a way, B'jin would have put marks on it. S'kef spent far too much time devising ways to torture him and B'jin would never believe otherwise.
The next cry was louder, forced from his lips with a grunt of pain as a fist connected, drowning out words and insults though B'jin had heard it all before, at any rate. 'Green whore' was the most common, that denial wouldn't change anything. B'jin whimpered, gasping desperately for a solid lungful of air and being tormented by the stinging pain of bruised ribs and the weight of S'kef's form perched atop him. Than there were lips on his once more, and brown eyes flashed open, hot with a sudden fire of rage.
In answer to S'kef's question, B'jin spit in his face.
Eyes widened as S'kef spoke, brown gaze jerking around, seeking an escape the rider knew he wouldn't be granted before snapping back to stare at S'kef in horror. Ask? Ask for wha-- B'jin yelped unintentionally as the brownrider struck his face; the greenrider shrank away, eyes squinting against the retained sting as he stared up at the now sitting form above him, gasping as he was jerked up to follow: than hissing painfully as he was returned to the floor, head meeting floor with enough force to have him seeing black and silver. The words S'kef was spitting at him were lost in the whirlwind of trying to get his gaze to focus, blinking rapidly even as hands struggled, gripping S'kef's wrist at his shirt front with cold, desperate fingers.
B'jin cried out lowly as he was slammed back into the floor, the hand in his hair ripping at his scalp enough to case a new and tingling sensation of pain to ripple across his skull. For perhaps the first time, B'jin was seriously glad for the length it had obtained; if S'kef removed a handful he might be able to hide it. He dismissed the fact that if he hadn't allowed it, there wouldn't be very much for the brownrider to grip at any rate. S'kef would have found a way, B'jin would have put marks on it. S'kef spent far too much time devising ways to torture him and B'jin would never believe otherwise.
The next cry was louder, forced from his lips with a grunt of pain as a fist connected, drowning out words and insults though B'jin had heard it all before, at any rate. 'Green whore' was the most common, that denial wouldn't change anything. B'jin whimpered, gasping desperately for a solid lungful of air and being tormented by the stinging pain of bruised ribs and the weight of S'kef's form perched atop him. Than there were lips on his once more, and brown eyes flashed open, hot with a sudden fire of rage.
In answer to S'kef's question, B'jin spit in his face.