The Natural Order | By : TheFantasticMrMan Category: Web Comics > Gunnerkrigg Court Views: 1994 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or settings from Gunnerkrigg Court and don't make money off them either...OR DO I? The answer is no. I don't. |
"You know what to do."
Antimony bit her lip, trying not to shiver as the door locked itself behind her. Before her, a small, white ring was painted on the floor, a single lamp shining down on it. Beyond that, in the shadows...a chair. A pair of eyes. Expectant. Waiting.
Slowly, she began to strip.
The room was warm and well insulated from the noise of the other animals outside, chirping and scratching away in their own pens and cages. Sniffing for an exit, eager for an outing. She remembered when she used to do the same.
Leather bound stumps for hands. Unable to stand. Pawing at a locked handle.
She shivered in the heat, fingers clumsy with remembrance as her shirt joined her skirt on the floor, leaving her fumbling at the hook for her bra. She didn't wear panties. She'd been...forbidden. She was thankful for that mercy- there would be no damp spot for her guilt to drown in tonight, come curfew.
Sliding the straps off her shoulders, she felt herself tighten at the sound of it hitting the floor, her arms ratcheting to her sides. She was not to cover up. She remembered the lesson.
An animal does not hide what they are.
Compelled by custom, she stepped forward into the light, red hair bleeding down into her skin, flushing her body at the exposure. Compared to the heat she was giving off, the room felt cold; standing on her skin, raking it up into goosebumps. Tightening her before those dark eyes. She was at their mercy, despite her strength. Despite the fact she could just sear them shut with her power.
Antimony almost imagined doing it.
Leashed. Shaking. Moaning like the bitch she always knew she was.
She knelt. Hands raised in supplicance, head bowing.
It was instinctual now. Natural. She knew her place in the world when staring at the floor and the shining tip of a boot. It had been taught to her, over many nights and many days, her position in this hierarchy. A comfort. A certainty. Something she had become sure of, now that all doubt had been ground out of her by the heel. The kind of lesson she would have thought to find in the Forest, not the Court. But then...where better to tame the elements...to tame...her?
"...Good girl."
She heard the chair shift back. Steps.
To push her lower. Degrade. Tease. A pressure on her back, bending her into a new shape.
Moving around her, to unlock a chest. To continue her transformation. Annie swallowed, her arms trembling from her effort to appease. She felt the rest of her clench in sympathy, eager and fearful. Waiting for that fire within to be contained. Controlled.
Handfuls of pressure pushed down on her shoulders and travelled up to her wrists. Assertive and dominant, taking possession of her limbs from root to tip, stroking them into submission; a shuddering lapse into complacency as they trusted their weight and responsibilities to skilled, tanned fingers. She couldn't help releasing a breath as she felt the weight turn into something more permanent, skin replacing itself with leather, wrapping around her wrists, tugging their compliance into shape. Buckling. Locking. Heavy with obedience and the promise of use. She could feel them being held through the rings...one finger. All that was needed to hold her in check now...not like before.
Bound behind the back. Crying. Pleading. Begging. Cumming.
They descended into her eyesight to rest on her knees, the effort behind their ownership requiring them to rest as the hand which controlled them stroked down her side now, moving back...down...slipping thicker cuffs about her ankles. Her toes curled at the sensation as if they were being squeezed of will, straining, squirming...then relaxing, surrendering as her arms had. Yielding to the strength of the bonds above them, placed on them by a power also above them. An effortless takeover, but not one she could stop. She had tried before. She knew.
The whip. The crop. Those words above all, piercing her mind. She knew how to talk to her. She knew how to talk to animals.
Now a light tugging on her hair, gathering it, cording it together. Annie closed her eyes and eased into the sensation, breath leaving her because it couldn't stand the anticipation. Not for the *next* addition. The addition that she woke up wearing in this very room so many months ago...the one that has defined her ever since.
She felt her lips part as it touched her head, and inchingly, lovingly, slid over her...the smell of ozone and industry enveloping her features, stretching across her face, smoothing away sweat and concerns...and the feeling of a spirit being shackled. Overcome with temptation, she tried to summon fire as her new skin tightened over her face, only to feel a cool, commanding pressure on her forehead, pushing it back in. A prison for her powers...there was nothing she could do. She was helpless.
Her tongue touched her teeth as the latex hood finished sealing over her sense of self, a collar locking it down; cool metal resting on her collarbone as straps began to clinch the material more tightly to her character, smothering it. Only eyes remained, to look at the world anew, and lips, allowed only to speak new words. Words the proud Antimony would never say...could never have said.
She gaped at her reflection. Demanded. Grabbed at it uselessly, as close and irremovable as her old face. A scared stranger in the mirror, defeated. Submission inevitable. Independence cut from it with thin strips of rubber and ether. Born to be owned, she would come to know...as she would come to be.
A hand cupped her chin, the gesture feeling distorted and perverse through the new texture. She'd stopped trying not to like it.
"Look at me, Escrava."
She did.
Deep brown pools that shone with everything she knew about herself. That same reflection from before in that mirror, only...more complete. More real than in a memory. More real than the firehead girl who lived outside of this room, the Medium who owned her own things and had her own friends. All of that was ephemeral compared to what she was here, within this circle.
Trained. Tamed. Enslaved.
The eyes before her flashed with amusement and came in for a kiss, rewarding her- Escrava- not Annie- with their favour. For a lesson learned, and learned well.
But not the last lesson. Warm, continental lips drew back to purr against a muffled ear.
"Escrava...ready for today's session...?"
She ran her tongue across her lips, lipstick stained with her owner's taste. Antimony Carver was gone.
There was only one answer she could give.
"Yes, Mistress. Please teach me."
Paz smiled. Yes, she would teach her very well...
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