Teasy the Swift

"Better," Jack said, his deep voice filling the room. "Now, let's try this again, shall we?" He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he studied his captive. "So, I believe you know what we want from you, don't you. You're to track down other Champions for us, reading your little stars and whatever you do to find them. We want names, we want locations, we want everything you can give us. So, the question becomes, how are we to allow you to do that without the risk of a dagger suddenly finding its way into our backs?"

Nicoletta swallowed thickly, her throat working against the tendril still wrapped around it. "I'll cooperate," she promised, her voice hoarse from disuse and edged with desperation. "I won't betray you."

Jack raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. "See, I have a hard time believing that," he said, his voice even but carrying an undercurrent of threat. "You tried to kill me just yesterday, and we both know your affection for us haven't grown since then."

Nox’s eyes remained fixed on Jack as she spoke her oath, her olive skin glistening with nervous perspiration beneath the basement’s clinical lights. “I won’t betray you,” she swore, the Italian accent that normally softened her voice now sharpened with desperation. “I swear it on my lady, on my family—on anything you demand. Whatever binds me to silence, I accept.”

Jack studied her with that calculating gaze of his—intense eyes that seemed to dissect her defenses with each unblinking second. When he finally spoke, his voice carried the weight of absolute authority, a tone that made Nox’s throat tighten.

“I believe you mean these words. But promises, even those sworn on deities, sometimes require… reinforcement.” He turned to Millia with a subtle nod, the movement barely perceptible yet carrying the weight of command. “Release her, Mil.”

The nymph’s smile was a slow unfolding of predatory pleasure as she approached Nox. Her lithe form moved with the sinuous grace of a forest spirit—one moment standing demurely, the next gliding across the room like smoke through sunlight. Millia selected one of Nox’s own daggers from the table, the blade catching light as she turned it in her delicate fingers.

“Of course, Master,” Millia purred, the title rolling off her tongue with practiced reverence. Her green eyes—vivid as new growth in spring—locked with Nox’s as she cut through the zipties binding her ankles, then her wrists. The nymph’s movements were precise, almost surgical in their efficiency, each slice of the blade a whisper of what might come.

As circulation returned to her limbs, Nox shivered, her dark hair—loosely bound in its usual braid—shifting against her shoulders with the movement. The temptation to lunge for freedom pulsed through her veins, but Jack’s steady regard kept her rooted to the chair. The Champion of Aphrodite watched her with the patient stillness of a hunting predator, his muscular frame relaxed yet coiled with potential ****.

“Proceed,” Jack commanded, his deep voice a velvet-wrapped threat. “Reclaim your weapon. Mil, assist her.”

Millia’s smile never faltered as she presented the dagger hilt-first to Nox, her own hand pale and unmarred against the weapon’s dark steel. The nymph’s skin bore none of the callouses of a warrior, yet her gaze held a feral intelligence that betrayed her nature as clearly as any scar might.

Nox’s fingers trembled as they closed around the hilt, the familiar weight of her weapon both comfort and torment. In one fluid motion—honed through years of training and deadly necessity—she spun toward Millia, blade arcing toward the nymph’s unprotected throat.

The attack was lightning-fast, but Teasy’s response was swifter still.

Dozens of tendrils erupted from the vine coiled around Nox’s thigh, slithering up her body with serpentine precision. They wrapped around her throat and nipples with bruising ****, binding her feet together before she could complete her attack. Millia didn’t flinch, didn’t so much as blink as the blade passed harmlessly beside her, the nymph’s confidence in Teasy’s protection absolute.

Then came the pain.

“No! Stop—please!” Nox cried out, her voice breaking as the nettle leaf made contact with her most intimate flesh. The burn was immediate and incendiary, spreading across her labia with each passing second. She doubled over, the dagger clattering forgotten to the floor.

Jack observed her torment with clinical detachment, his features set in an expression that was neither cruel nor kind—simply resolute. “The sting of a nettle is particularly unpleasant in such sensitive areas,” he observed, his tone as mild as if remarking on the weather. “Quite effective, wouldn’t you agree, Mil?”

Millia turned to Jack, her expression shifting from predatory to reverent in an instant. The transformation was remarkable—the nymph’s entire demeanor softening as she regarded her master. “Indeed, Master,” she agreed, her voice carrying a subtle undercurrent of lust that hadn’t been present moments before. “Most effective.”

“Cease, Teasy,” Jack commanded. The relief was immediate, though the memory of pain lingered, a ghostly echo that made Nox’s breath catch.

The nymph placed a comforting hand on Nox’s shoulder as she slumped to the floor, the gesture oddly gentle coming from one who had been her captor moments before. “Teasy, soothe her,” Millia ordered, and once again the vine responded to her will.

This time, the sensation was cool and blessedly calming. A gel-like substance spread across Nox’s labia, easing the burn with each delicate stroke. She whimpered in relief, tears of gratitude mingling with those of pain on her cheeks.

“Thank you,” she breathed, the words torn from her as the last vestiges of agony faded. “Thank you.”

Jack crouched before her then, his eyes level with hers. Up close, the full power of his gaze was overwhelming—intense blue irises ringed with gold, like sapphires set in a band of fire. Nox found herself unable to look away, trapped by the weight of his attention.

“This is your reality now, Nox,” he said, his voice low and resonant. “I am your master. Teasy is your constant companion. Obey, and you will be rewarded beyond your imagination. Betray us…” He let the sentence hang unfinished, the implication clear.

Nox swallowed hard, her throat dry. “I understand,” she whispered, the words tasting of bitter defeat. “I won’t disappoint you again.”

"And you will call him 'master'," the nymph added, her small smirk returning.

Nox looked between them—Millia with her feral confidence, Jack with his implacable resolve. When she spoke again, her voice carried the weight of **** acceptance.

"Yes, master."

Jack nodded, seemingly satisfied with her capitulation. "Good. Now, to business. You will locate the programmer Champion and the Irish lass. Gather intelligence on their abilities, their plans, their weaknesses. Report everything to me. When I'm pleased with your efforts, you'll receive your reward and your next objective."

Nox managed a shaky nod, her mind already racing with strategies and possibilities. "Yes, master."

"The Jackoff is at your disposal," Jack continued, rising to his full height. "Choose any of the rooms upstairs. The fridge is stocked, and the Xbox has an extensive library of games. Mostly things that involve causing spectacular destruction, I believe." A ghost of a smile touched his lips at that, the first hint of humanity she'd seen in him.

Nox found herself returning the smile, albeit weakly. "What kind of destruction?"

"Explosions. Car chases. The occasional alien invasion," Jack listed, his tone lightening slightly. "I think you'll find something that suits your tastes."

"Sounds… perfect, master," Nox admitted, surprised by the sincerity in her own voice. The prospect of losing herself in mindless virtual mayhem was suddenly, desperately appealing.

"Then we'll leave you to it," Jack said, turning toward the stairs. "Oh, and I'll need your number. We'll be in contact soon."