Here we go, don't expect anything spectacular... -runs away- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Miss me, sweet'art?"
Thomas Hickey's taunting voice broke the deafening silence in the prison. His comment was aimed at the young man slowly rising from the floor after being unceremoniously dumped onto it by the soldiers. Interestingly, the man only glared at the other, showing a surprising amount of restraint. Since after all, it was by Hickey's actions that led him into this unfortunate predicament.
"What? Got nothing else to say?" Hickey prodded, possibly hoping to get a stronger reaction from the silent assassin, who simply stood in the center of the room and maintained eye-contact defiantly.
The connection between the two broke when the Assassin's cell door opened suddenly, the same guards who restrained him previously all filtering in, then shutting the door abruptly. No words were spared as two of the four guards immediately grabbed the man and thrust him up against the cold, hard brick of the cell's wall.
Sensing a bout of entertainment, I made myself as comfortable as I was able to in the small room I resided in. Thankful for this arranged position I was given, allowed me to spy in on the Assassin's cell perfectly, and catching glimpses of Hickey ever so often in the cell across.
The guard's hand's darted to the Assassin's many leather straps and holsters which originally held his vast array of deadly weapons. Carelessly throwing the items over their shoulders, muttering something to one another so quietly that even with my trained senses couldn't quite catch their words. But it seemed to anger the Assassin thrice-fold, as he never ceased struggling, his arms held captive by two men whilst the others were still removing the straps.
Even though his face was being harshly pressed into the solid brick, and that he was clearly unable to loosen the strong hands clinging to him. The constant twitching of powerful muscles and the fierce expression of rebellion plastered onto his features gave him a sense of strength and near-dominance amongst the guards, almost as if he 'refused' to be beaten, to be 'broken'.
Although thoughts and fierce looks only take you so far when in prison, and as the gauntlet's were removed, containing the once-famous hidden blades of the Assassin's, the man seemed temporarily paralysed. To him, those particular tools were precious, and he flinched from the loud metallic sound they made as they collided somewhere in the background, another example of the jailor's blatant disrespect for a prisoner's belonging's, although I don't blame him.
Hickey seemed to notice the Assassin's brief apprehension, "Aw, don't worry princess, right now those are the least of your worries. It's not like you will be getting them back anyway..."
A small smirk reached my lips as I soon realised the reasoning behind Hickey's cocky remarks and quips. He was aiming to weaken the Assassin's resolve by just using his voice, while I assumed the guards were handling the more physical aspects. Though once again, the assassin remained quiet and kept his eyes trained on the far wall, possibly trying to imagine himself somewhere else, and failing.
He must have come to the realisation that he was now fully unarmed, besides his own limbs, although the guards were armed with blades and pistols so provoking more violence could be... harmful.
"Throw the savage to the floor, where he belongs." one of the guards bellowed. The Assassin was soon on his back, hood still tugged over the upper part of his face but I could still sense hesitation in the way his lip's parted slightly, breaths coming in short spurts. I wouldn't be surprised if that was him in his first stage of panic, when he begins to doubt his ability to escape. My hands pressed deeper into the wall as I leaned closer, the dark thoughts within me preached for a more blatant reaction from the young man, alas I was denied for the moment...
His chest heaved slightly, and his fingers tensed and gripped onto the rough terrain beneath him, it was clear that he disliked being in such close proximity to another human being. At this point, I was once again grateful for the private space I was granted, adjacent to the Assassin-no, Connor's cell, with a miniscule chance of being noticed, as the peep-hole was small and the room I was situated in was dimly lit.
The four guards stood around Connor, "What should we do with him?" Connor eyed the one who spoke warily, oh yes, the dark side of me was going to enjoy this. "Well, we're supposed to strip him down..." one of the men started, but was unable to finish.
"If I might make a suggestion, sirs?"
Connor immediately sent the most fierce glare that he could muster to the man in the next cell, who was casually leaning on the bars with a lazy smirk. "Out with it then."
The smile gradually grew wider on his face as he leant forward, "Think about this, you have this man to yourselves for the whole night, with no interruptions..." The guards bristled at this, clearly getting worked up on the idea. "...but who says you can't have a little fun in the meantime?"
"Shut it, Hickey." Connor snarled menacingly, his voice deep and as threatening as they come, though it fazed no one. He received a blow to the face for that. "No speaking unless instructed." came the curt reply from one of his captors. Hickey then added, "And let's see if you can't make him enjoy himself too, jus' for fit's and giggles." one of the men decided to take initiative, he quickly crouched, his gloved hand shooting down to the assassin's crotch, palming the bulge there with slow, circular movements. I groaned inwardly with slight pleasure, as the act took me by surprise, and I heard Hickey releasing a chuckle at the guard's forwardness.
Although Connor seemed outraged by this, to put it lightly, as he renewed his strength and attempted to rise, though was swiftly denied with a boot to the chest. He grunted through clenched teeth as the hand only gripped harder, the tell-tale look of anxiousness slowly appearing on his face as his eyebrows rose and his eyes widened.
His struggling limbs were all held down, as his violator started to apply more pressure, his other hand rubbing up and down Connor's shaking thigh. "Don't worry, we'll take care of you." the cocky guard chided, amused as the Assassin's head whipped up to face him, teeth bared-and was he growling?
It seemed that he wasn't willing to give up just yet, which is fine since I was slightly disappointed that his resolve was weaker than I first thought.
-Runs back- Hmmm... I refuse to proof-read this, just to ease my conscience. Err, and shamefully I'm a bit foggy as to what should happen next, so I am open to any suggestions! Mainly referring to personal preferences and kinks :o
Fill 1/? - Connor's stay at Bridewell Prison :'(
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Miss me, sweet'art?"
Thomas Hickey's taunting voice broke the deafening silence in the prison. His comment was aimed at the young man slowly rising from the floor after being unceremoniously dumped onto it by the soldiers. Interestingly, the man only glared at the other, showing a surprising amount of restraint. Since after all, it was by Hickey's actions that led him into this unfortunate predicament.
"What? Got nothing else to say?" Hickey prodded, possibly hoping to get a stronger reaction from the silent assassin, who simply stood in the center of the room and maintained eye-contact defiantly.
The connection between the two broke when the Assassin's cell door opened suddenly, the same guards who restrained him previously all filtering in, then shutting the door abruptly. No words were spared as two of the four guards immediately grabbed the man and thrust him up against the cold, hard brick of the cell's wall.
Sensing a bout of entertainment, I made myself as comfortable as I was able to in the small room I resided in. Thankful for this arranged position I was given, allowed me to spy in on the Assassin's cell perfectly, and catching glimpses of Hickey ever so often in the cell across.
The guard's hand's darted to the Assassin's many leather straps and holsters which originally held his vast array of deadly weapons. Carelessly throwing the items over their shoulders, muttering something to one another so quietly that even with my trained senses couldn't quite catch their words. But it seemed to anger the Assassin thrice-fold, as he never ceased struggling, his arms held captive by two men whilst the others were still removing the straps.
Even though his face was being harshly pressed into the solid brick, and that he was clearly unable to loosen the strong hands clinging to him. The constant twitching of powerful muscles and the fierce expression of rebellion plastered onto his features gave him a sense of strength and near-dominance amongst the guards, almost as if he 'refused' to be beaten, to be 'broken'.
Although thoughts and fierce looks only take you so far when in prison, and as the gauntlet's were removed, containing the once-famous hidden blades of the Assassin's, the man seemed temporarily paralysed. To him, those particular tools were precious, and he flinched from the loud metallic sound they made as they collided somewhere in the background, another example of the jailor's blatant disrespect for a prisoner's belonging's, although I don't blame him.
Hickey seemed to notice the Assassin's brief apprehension, "Aw, don't worry princess, right now those are the least of your worries. It's not like you will be getting them back anyway..."
A small smirk reached my lips as I soon realised the reasoning behind Hickey's cocky remarks and quips. He was aiming to weaken the Assassin's resolve by just using his voice, while I assumed the guards were handling the more physical aspects. Though once again, the assassin remained quiet and kept his eyes trained on the far wall, possibly trying to imagine himself somewhere else, and failing.
He must have come to the realisation that he was now fully unarmed, besides his own limbs, although the guards were armed with blades and pistols so provoking more violence could be... harmful.
"Throw the savage to the floor, where he belongs." one of the guards bellowed. The Assassin was soon on his back, hood still tugged over the upper part of his face but I could still sense hesitation in the way his lip's parted slightly, breaths coming in short spurts. I wouldn't be surprised if that was him in his first stage of panic, when he begins to doubt his ability to escape. My hands pressed deeper into the wall as I leaned closer, the dark thoughts within me preached for a more blatant reaction from the young man, alas I was denied for the moment...
His chest heaved slightly, and his fingers tensed and gripped onto the rough terrain beneath him, it was clear that he disliked being in such close proximity to another human being. At this point, I was once again grateful for the private space I was granted, adjacent to the Assassin-no, Connor's cell, with a miniscule chance of being noticed, as the peep-hole was small and the room I was situated in was dimly lit.
The four guards stood around Connor, "What should we do with him?" Connor eyed the one who spoke warily, oh yes, the dark side of me was going to enjoy this. "Well, we're supposed to strip him down..." one of the men started, but was unable to finish.
"If I might make a suggestion, sirs?"
Connor immediately sent the most fierce glare that he could muster to the man in the next cell, who was casually leaning on the bars with a lazy smirk. "Out with it then."
The smile gradually grew wider on his face as he leant forward, "Think about this, you have this man to yourselves for the whole night, with no interruptions..." The guards bristled at this, clearly getting worked up on the idea. "...but who says you can't have a little fun in the meantime?"
"Shut it, Hickey." Connor snarled menacingly, his voice deep and as threatening as they come, though it fazed no one. He received a blow to the face for that. "No speaking unless instructed." came the curt reply from one of his captors. Hickey then added, "And let's see if you can't make him enjoy himself too, jus' for fit's and giggles." one of the men decided to take initiative, he quickly crouched, his gloved hand shooting down to the assassin's crotch, palming the bulge there with slow, circular movements. I groaned inwardly with slight pleasure, as the act took me by surprise, and I heard Hickey releasing a chuckle at the guard's forwardness.
Although Connor seemed outraged by this, to put it lightly, as he renewed his strength and attempted to rise, though was swiftly denied with a boot to the chest. He grunted through clenched teeth as the hand only gripped harder, the tell-tale look of anxiousness slowly appearing on his face as his eyebrows rose and his eyes widened.
His struggling limbs were all held down, as his violator started to apply more pressure, his other hand rubbing up and down Connor's shaking thigh. "Don't worry, we'll take care of you." the cocky guard chided, amused as the Assassin's head whipped up to face him, teeth bared-and was he growling?
It seemed that he wasn't willing to give up just yet, which is fine since I was slightly disappointed that his resolve was weaker than I first thought.
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-Runs back- Hmmm... I refuse to proof-read this, just to ease my conscience. Err, and shamefully I'm a bit foggy as to what should happen next, so I am open to any suggestions! Mainly referring to personal preferences and kinks :o