BENNETT
I wasn't long in the felines embrace before I was placed back onto my feet and into the clutches of my very displeased looking guard. In the midst of the impromptu gathering, one of the more extravagantly styled aristocrats pivoted gracefully, their ornate attire shimmering with jeweled embellishments. The subtle rustle of luxurious fabrics accompanied the turn, and in the ensuing silence, my guards long-fingered grip clamped even more firmly onto my arm than it had been before. A jolt of unease shot through me as I found myself swiftly guided away from the assembly. The main hallway loomed ahead, its dimly lit expanse an ominous path leading to an uncertain destination. With each hurried step, the anticipation of impending events cast over me like a heavy weight and as I was ushered into the study, the setting for my evening lessons, a palpable sense of foreboding settled even deeper into my marrow. The air in the room seemed charged with an unspoken tension, and I could tell that the trajectory of events was taking a troubling turn for me.
The lesson chamber, with its unyielding stone construction, emanated an atmosphere devoid of warmth or sentiment. The walls, devoid of any adornments, bore the unmistakable marks of craftsmanship, telling tales of skilled hands carving them into existence, despite the blandness of their artistry. Suspended from the ceiling with strategic precision, artificial lights cast a consistent glow, enveloping the space in a constant, albeit artificial, radiance. However, despite the pervasive illumination, I found myself constantly seeking out the solace of natural light, yearning for the presence of windows that would bring a touch of the outside world into this otherwise austere chamber. The absence of those portals to the exterior left the room feeling somewhat sterile, lacking the connection to the world beyond its stone confines that I so deeply craved.
At the core of the chamber, settees were arranged to create a central gathering space. These stone-carved benches, not inherently designed for comfort, were adorned with generous cushions and vibrant fabrics piled high to compensate. The plush accouterments served a dual purpose—infusing a hint of opulence into the cool stone environment while offering a soft perch for those observing what they dubbed as my "lessons."
I had hardly made it three steps into the room before I was brought down to my knees so hard my teeth clacked together. As I struggled to regain my footing, a sense of disorientation and confusion overwhelmed me. Attempting to voice my objection to this severe punishment for a mere attempt to bypass a guard—a deed I had accomplished before without resistance—I found myself repeatedly forced onto my knees. My protests were abruptly cut short as my guard briefly entered my field of vision, at which point he pushed a black leather strap between my lips and fastened the buckle around the back of my head. I let out a startled and ashamed cry as I tried to remove the leather from my mouth and stand up, only to be forcefully shoved back into place once more.
The faint sound of them entering had been drowned out by the sound of anger rushing in my ears. But now as my face burned and my eyes blurred with tears of bitterness I refused to let fall I could hear them as clearly as I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. The desire to cry, to scream, and to throw a fit at my mistreatment swirled within me, but it seemed that all my protests fell on deaf ears. As I sat in turmoil, on the opposite side of the opulent chamber bathed in the glow of artificial lights I was coming to detest more every second, the group of regal figures gathered once again. I remained their captive audience, pushed off to the side like disregarded inconvenience.
The aristocrats, with their stoic and regal presence, reclined on their lavish stone benches, each one a masterpiece of craftsmanship. Draped in rich fabrics and adorned with jewels, I had initially thought the aristocrats were exquisite upon first seeing them, but now I felt they only looked somewhat ridiculous grandstanding in the presence of actual royalty. The new alien species before me, with their sleek elegance and feral grace stood unmatched by anything else in the room. They lounged in the midst of the aristocratic gathering, as if this was their home and they were not merely visitors. Their presence, exotic and predator in nature, commanded an attention and respect I had never felt toward the aristocrats.
I attempted to rise once more, but a firm grip on the back of my neck kept me in place as I shot a menacing glare up at the towering guard. My gaze flickered between their regal postures and the intricate patterns on the stone floor until my line of sight somehow fell to and locked with the felines across the room, more accurately the ash colored pain in my ass. As much as a part of me yearned to lay the blame solely on him for my current predicament, deep down, I understood that the majority of it was my own doing. After all, he hadn't compelled me to ditch my guard; he merely revealed my hiding place.
Snitch, I couldn't help but think bitterly as I glared into his deep green cat eyes. And for a moment I thought I saw mirth swirl back at me, as if despite the language barrier and a million other things between us he knew exactly what I was thinking. The weight of the hand on my neck severed my gaze, disrupting my train of thought as a suffocating feeling enveloped me. The guard tightened his grip, persistently pressing my face toward the cold stone below, forcing my chest into my knees. Saliva pooled in my mouth, dampening the leather of the gag and leaving an unpleasant chemical taste. It seemed my glaring had become a bit too conspicuous for the aristocrats' comfort.
I watched in mortification as drool slowly dripped from my parted lips and onto the cold stone floor below. My face grew even hotter, and if possible, I felt my anger deepen into rage. I struggled against the tight grip on me, growling through my gag as my guard's spindly fingers roughly jerked my arms away from my face and behind my back. He pressed them up and in so forcefully that I was almost bent completely in half, with my chest to my knees and my face hovering only inches from the floor. The tears came freely, falling fast, hard and against my will. Mingling with my saliva on the cold stone below.
So far, I had heard nothing of the conversation going on in front of me, too busy fuming to pay much attention. However, the low, deep growl that reverberated through the room in response to my low, shallow sobs had my muscles quivering with an emotion I couldn't quite place. At the same time, whatever that growl meant in their strange alien tongue prompted the guard to release his grip on my arms. With a gasping breath, I jerked them to my chest, cradling my wrists in front of me as if to protect them from any more sudden onslaughts of force, though I doubted it would stop a thing. The urge to rip the gag from between my lips surged within me, but I refrained, scared it would only return me to my previous predicament. I found my freedom of movement more sacred than the humiliation of my mouth piece in that moment, but the growing shame and discomfort was still there. Bubbling below the surface of my skin so strongly I felt it must have come alive, like a snake coiling and twisting just below my outer membrane and fighting for a way out. Though, in the dim glow of artificial light it was fairly impossible to tell.
Another low growl, though not as powerful as its predecessor, hummed throughout the cavernous stone space. I found myself looking up, despite my better judgement shouting against it in the back of my mind, and into the deep green eyes of the exotic warrior-like alien who had been my downfall to begin with. His dark-haired companion leaned into his ear as I watched them—both their gazes never wavering from my own—and spoke softly and firmly, too low for me to hear from this distance. I knew it was doubtful I would have understood anyhow, but it left me curious. As I continued to watch them move in sync together, almost unnatural in their agility, it came to me that there was nothing particularly natural about them to begin with. Despite their almost earthly feline features, they were still unlike anything I had ever seen. The warrior nodded once, a sharp confirming jerk of his chin that satisfied the princely alien. The latter went back to his discussion, leaving his warrior to do as he bid.
The ash-colored warrior's gaze drew me in, his emerald eyes holding an inexplicable allure that transcended the strange circumstances. The play of shadows on his fur added an air of mystery to his already unearthly presence. As his long-clawed hand gestured me forward, I caught a glimpse of the light glinting from the knife strapped to his side, a part of me knew the sight should have spread fear through me, but all I saw was an opportunity. The rock-carved bench, on which he sat like a potentate in his own right, seemed both imposing and inviting, adorned with cushions that hinted at both comfort and opulence. There was a moment when hesitation was expected, where a careful consideration of choices and potential consequences should have occurred. Yet, an unspoken understanding seemed to guide me, compelling me to bridge the gap between apprehension and curiosity. In that fleeting instant, the decisions that should have held weight melted away, and I found myself back where I had started – drawn by an inexplicable force that seemed to defy reason and beckon me into the embrace of the unknown.
He accepted me into his arms so readily I almost wondered why he had set me down to begin with. As he pressed my face into his warm, dense chest, long claws, both frightening and oddly comforting, delicately tangled in the curls at the base of my neck. The warmth of him provided a stark contrast to the cold, unyielding stone of the room. His purr, a deep and rhythmic vibration, echoed against my cheek, creating a lulling effect that had my mind going blank.
As the gag was gently removed from my mouth and tossed away I felt an odd vulnerability, the silence of the room loud behind the hum against me. The clink of the buckle hitting the floor caused an involuntary flinch to run through me, and the weight of all the eyes on the room being on me grew almost unbearable, but it was quickly soothed by the large hand splayed across the width of my back,its touch firm yet strangely reassuring, served as an anchor. A distraction. The complex emotions coursing through me—relief, confusion, vulnerability—were drowned by his presence. I knew crawling into the lap of an alien species about which I knew nothing was bound to stir conflicting emotions within me. There lingered a sense of shame, an awareness that this creature could potentially inflict harm or humiliation akin to what I had experienced only moments ago. Yet, an undeniable ease washed over me—an unfamiliar comfort that I hadn't felt in weeks. The internal struggle to resist this newfound solace became less appealing, and, in that moment, I questioned if I even desired to resist it at all.
As the alien meeting unfolded, my attention wavered between the one sided discussions with the aristocrats and the soothing vibrations of the warrior's purring beneath me. The rhythm seemed to create a lulling melody, almost hypnotic in nature. Despite the tension lingering in the air, I found my eyes growing heavy, the persistent purring acting as a gentle lullaby. The sound of the princely aliens low and soothing voice became distant murmurs, and the cool stone and warm body beneath me transformed into a surprisingly comfortable bed. The struggle to stay alert gradually surrendered to the embrace of drowsiness, and I allowed myself to succumb to the rhythmic cadence, drifting into a semi-conscious state amidst the peculiar blend of alien politics and feline-like comfort.