"Say goodbye to your balls, Imperium scum. Your daughter gets to watch you lose your manhood, a fitting end to a primped-up fool."
Anaria's fight-or-flight response settled on the deadlier of the two, but what could she hope to accomplish? Naked and tied to a tree, she watched the brutal rebel leader, Gorlann, stalking toward her father. On his back with his hands tied behind him, the aristocrat tried to rise up quickly to make a run for it, but the gladiator was going to easily overtake him. Gorlann's muscular form hurtled forward like a lion about to tackle its prey.
And yet that was when events took an unexpected turn. When Gorlann had tied Anaria's wrists behind her back to a nearby tree trunk, he had been hurried. Eager to exact his revenge on Lord Inarius Kaelon, Anaria's father, he hadn't tied the knot as effectively as he could have. Now, desperate beyond belief to save her father, Anaria felt a surprising surge not of fear -- but of anger.
'You won't kill him, you bastard! I won't let you!' That white-hot mantra rolled through her mind as she jerked frantically on her bindings. The sharp, uneven bark of the tree even aided her attempts, helping fray the rope until it tore apart and allowed Anaria to finally yank her hands free.
Gorlann was almost upon Inarius when he suddenly felt a weight slamming onto his back. Anaria pounced on him from behind, putting the gladiator in a headlock and screaming like a hellcat.
"Father RUN!"
Clenching a knife in one hand, he could have easily stabbed the girl, but Gorlann felt a surprising burst of admiration instead; this slender girl who was only a fraction of his weight kept furiously attacking him, willing to sacrifice her own life for her father's. It was a display of courage that demanded respect. More than that, though, Gorlann realized that this was the fighting spirit he had yet to truly see from Anaria. He had wanted her to become an apprentice of sorts to him in addition to serving his sexual needs, but in the intervening time she had seemed only good as a sex-toy, a plaything, and his treatment of her had grown more and more demeaning. He had decided that she didn't have the mettle to become a fighter alongside him or an asset to the rebels as they sought to unseat the power of the Imperium who ruled Prythia.
Yet now he found himself wondering if he'd misjudged her.
"I won't let you hurt him!" she screamed, trying to claw at his face. He threw his knife aside and then easily threw the Imperium teen over his shoulder. No sooner had he slammed her to the earth, though, she then sprang up and charged him again. With a ferocity unmatched by any warrior he had ever fought, the girl came at him. She picked up the same knife he had thrown aside moments early and lunged at him with it. He sidestepped the first few clumsy attacks, but her blood lust wouldn't be sated and the desperation in her eyes -- the need to give her father time to get away -- fueled her with a spike of adrenaline that gave her unnatural speed. To his shock, Gorlann found that on the fifth lunge, the girl managed to even nick his wrist and actually draw blood.
Of the last thirteen men he had defeated in the Arena, before he had instigated the rebellion, none had managed to do even that much. His admiration for the girl grew.
Meanwhile, Inarius Kaelon found himself paralyzed by indecision. His instinct urged him to run, but he could not abandon his daughter.
Still making feinting thrusts with the knife in her hand to keep Gorlann at bay, Anaria glanced back at Inarius.
"Father, I'll hold him off. Father, run!"
But Inarius couldn't. He just stood there awkwardly, trying to loosen the bindings at his wrists which refused to budge.
Now Gorlann made a lunge of his own. He felt the swish of air where the knife almost cut through his forearm, but Anaria missed by just a hair's width. He twisted, clamping his hand on the girl's wrist, shaking her wrist and squeezing tight to make her drop the weapon. Once again he underestimated her, though, because now Anaria adjusted her attack, kicking out at his groin. He managed to just barely dodge the ferocious kick, but to do so he had to let go of her wrist. She swiped at him again with the knife, and this time a bright red line streaked across his chest. It had barely broken the skin, but the sensation of pain still shocked him. This girl was a fighter after all. His feelings of near-contempt for a girl he had regarded until now as no more than a stuck-up Imperium teenage brat now evaporated.
"Not bad, bitch. You've got spunk, I'll give you that. You're a fighter." Saying this, Gorlann charged again, and this time he left nothing to chance. He twisted around, his right leg flinging outward in a roundhouse kick that dislodged the knife from her grasp. He saw the register of fear and still-seething anger in her eyes as he lunged at her. Pinning her wrists behind her back, he roughly threw her facedown on the grass. Fighting the beautiful, naked girl had made his cock hard and now, even as she struggled and writhed, he gazed at her wiggling buttocks and thrust himself balls-deep into her pussy, pinning her to the ground with his body weight as much as his cock.
"Stay still, bitch, and I will let your father go. Stop struggling, whore. Be still," he growled.
He felt the fight go out of her, at least for the moment. He heard Anaria's ragged breathing beneath him. Her neck craned upward. She and her father locked eyes. Meanwhile, Gorlann glared at the indecisive Imperium aristocrat.
"You heard me, fool. Leave now before I change my mind and cut off your balls as I originally intended. Go!"
With shame and sorrow clouding his face, Lord Inarius Kaelon turned and ran. Fear and self-preservation had finally won out.
