If Aldric was expecting this to go easy, he really had the wrong half demon practically pinned. Rin didn't go down without a fight in battle, why would he do so now?
Except... it wasn't like fighting. It wasn't a constant torrent of pain and the odd sensation of regeneration. It was... something else entirely, something that was harder to ignore, and even harder to resist against. It made his knees weak, his breathing heavy, sending jolts of... something up and down his body.
Why? Why would having his tail messed with cause this?
He... liked it? Some part of his brain was registering it as pleasure and it was overriding any ability he normally had to strike out, to throw his attacker off and get the hell out of there.
No no no no it was wrong it was all wrong! It wasn't supposed to happen like this!
He tried to resist getting pushed, but his feet stumbled and gave way even when he tried to dig heels in to the ground. His chest hit the tree hard enough to make him wheeze a bit, already straining lungs protesting the dull thud with a cough and a groan.
He squeezed his eyes shut, arms sort of half-flailing weakly, but it seemed any fight that had been there was quickly getting worn down. He wanted to speak again, to cry out, scream for help, beg for mercy, but all that came out was a strangled whimper.
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Except... it wasn't like fighting. It wasn't a constant torrent of pain and the odd sensation of regeneration. It was... something else entirely, something that was harder to ignore, and even harder to resist against. It made his knees weak, his breathing heavy, sending jolts of... something up and down his body.
Why? Why would having his tail messed with cause this?
He... liked it? Some part of his brain was registering it as pleasure and it was overriding any ability he normally had to strike out, to throw his attacker off and get the hell out of there.
No no no no it was wrong it was all wrong! It wasn't supposed to happen like this!
He tried to resist getting pushed, but his feet stumbled and gave way even when he tried to dig heels in to the ground. His chest hit the tree hard enough to make him wheeze a bit, already straining lungs protesting the dull thud with a cough and a groan.
He squeezed his eyes shut, arms sort of half-flailing weakly, but it seemed any fight that had been there was quickly getting worn down. He wanted to speak again, to cry out, scream for help, beg for mercy, but all that came out was a strangled whimper.