Her eyes are wide and brimming with tears, her lips wet and swollen. She stares up at him, trying to stifle the needy whine building in the back of her throat. At this point she's pretty sure the game he's playing right now is 'find out what would satisfy her and then do something else', and it's a good game, but oh, she wants...

He strokes his fingertips down her cheek. "My beautiful little slut. Still want to be raped?"

She nods emphatically, biting her lip and closing her eyes. Tears spill down her cheeks and drip past his fingers.

He heals her, and pulls her into his lap, and takes hold of her right hand. She has such amazingly lovely hands. He crushes it slowly, squeezing harder and harder until the fragile bones creak, then crack, then splinter.

Niamira sobs helplessly with pain and fear and frustrated lust. She doesn't even try to struggle.

"I could make you beg for anything I wanted right now, couldn't I," he murmurs. "I could tell you that I want you to spend another full day with the fighters, I could tell you that I want you chained to a post in a public courtyard to be used by anyone who passes by, and as long as I promised it would end with my cock in your cunt you'd beg passionately for something you know you're going to hate."

"Yes, my lord," she moans, trembling in his arms.

He picks up her other hand, strokes her wrist, her palm, her long lovely fingers... and then crushes that one too, more thoroughly this time, into an unrecognizable lump of pulped flesh and shattered bone.

She makes a tiny high-pitched sound in the back of her throat.

"I like that you want me," he says, gathering her close and petting her hair. "I like how you want me. I like that I can make you into a desperate sobbing mess who'll do anything to feel my cock inside her." He pulls her head to one side and bites her shoulder, drawing blood. "Are you too far gone to tell me how you want to be tortured?"

"Oh, never, my lord," she breathes.

He laughs. "Let's hear it, then."

Shiver. "I want - you know I want you to fuck me but oh, my lord, I want it so badly - I want you to hold me down and ruin my cunt with sharp things and hot metal and then fuck me while I cry and beg for more. I want to scream and struggle and know exactly how helpless I am. I want you to cut me and crush me and burn me and then rape me while I'm too wrecked to move."

"Mmmm." His cock stirs, pressing between her thighs. He heals her again, and picks up a newly restored hand and kisses it. "You want the loveliest things, my treasure."

She whimpers. It takes all her willpower to stop herself from squirming. His cock would feel so good inside her... "Please, my lord, I want you to rape me, please..."

He hugs her, squeezing hard enough to crack several ribs, and then heals her immediately. "I think you've noticed by now that I am done giving you things you want for today."

She nods, trembling.

He laughs and kisses her and runs his hands down her back and then shoves her out of his lap. The illusory bed vanishes, replaced by an illusory chair, a smaller version of his ocean-wave throne, made all of bright shining steel with no padding whatsoever.

"Sit down," he says.

She sits. The chair is beautiful, but hard and uncomfortable, its smooth curves arranged for visual rather than tactile luxury.

The metal twists and curls, wrapping broad loops of steel around her wrists and ankles, snaking up between her thighs to pull her legs apart.

A soft moan escapes her. She knows she's not going to get what she really wants, but she also knows she's going to love whatever he gives her.

"My beautiful torture-loving slut," he murmurs. "So pretty and willing."

The loops of metal tighten, squeezing her with bruising force, then relax. Smaller tendrils, each as narrow as a pen, split off from the broad curls of steel and stroke her wrists and thighs and stomach with their rounded tips.

Niamira bites her lip and shivers. She can guess where that might be going, and if she's right, it's going to hurt.

He laughs. "You are a treasure," he says, and the blunt steel tendrils drive themselves into her flesh, burrowing into her thighs and slotting between the bones of her wrists.

She moans, squirming helplessly. "Oh fuck, that hurts, oh please, it's so good, please my lord I want you to fuck me..."