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This Is Healing	By : DarkNarrator Category: Avatar - The Last Airbender > AU/AR - Alternate Universe/Alternate Reality > Het- Male/Female Views: 2879 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: the Last Airbender and make no money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 1-This Is Healing
- 2-Terrible, Terrible Things
- 1
- 2
Terrible, Terrible Things
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She could not quite recall how she had wound up like this…
“Any of these too tight?” Jet asked, his warm, blunt fingers sliding up her right thigh, easing under the wide band of leather strapping her leg to the worn, wooden table. Two similar belts likewise fastened over her other thigh and across her ribcage, just below her breasts, while an assortment of narrower, more delicate straps about her ankles, wrists, and upper-arms completed the arrangement.
Mai sucked in her breath at his touch, limbs pulling instinctively against their bonds. The leather bindings creaked and yielded only a fraction, digging into her naked skin. She had seen how effective the operating table and its accouterments were against the panicked strength of a full-grown man. The utter vulnerability it reduced her to triggered some dark, animal part of her brain, demanding that she tear free, escape…! And yet… Mai shuddered as ephemeral waves of pleasure scattered over her, warmth beginning to pulse between her parted thighs.
“Good.” Jet moved out of Mai’s line of sight, back to the medicine preparation counter, now currently lined with small oil lanterns that filled the room with dancing golden light and smoke. Mai tested the strength of the straps again, digging her heels against the worn grain of the wooden table, pulling at her wrists; she could just about touch the tip of her thumbnail against the side of her thigh if she stretched her hands and fingers out as far as she could.
Not that there was anything important in the least about that, but the exertion served to impress on her just how well-bound she was. Staring up at the shivering patterns of shadow on the ceiling, Mai swallowed a gulp of air, willing her heart to cease its anxious, eager patter.
“Enjoying yourself?”
Mai startled, finding Jet suddenly leaning over her, hands on either side of her shoulders, bare chest inches from her breasts. Had she fallen asleep at some point?
“Why…?”
He answered before she even formed the question in her mind. “It fascinated you, this thing,” he said, staring down at her with predatory intensity. His grin made her shudder (in anticipation). “You wanted to come back here, but I thought I could make it even more interesting for you this time.”
“I suppose I should thank you?” Mai asked, her voice husky. He was close, so close, but he was deliberately not touching her, just standing there, close enough for her to feel his animal heat, her body reacting to his scent, the hunger in his low voice… it was aggravating!
“I wouldn’t mind,” Jet chuckled. Dipping his head, cupping her chin in one hand to keep her still, he traced his tongue across her top lip and then the bottom, before thrusting into her with such aggressiveness Mai could not repay the favor before he pulled away.
“Hey, hey, don’t look at me like that,” he scolded under his breath, grinning at the angry scarlet blush spilling across her cheeks. “This is the game you agreed to.”
“When…?”
The edge of the knife glittered, stained bronze and crimson in the lamplight. “Ever play ‘Thousand Cuts’?” Jet wanted to know, sliding the pad of his thumb over the razor edge.
“When did you take that?” Mai demanded, the instinctive motion of her hands arrested by the leather straps.
“A knife nut like you, I know you’ve heard of it, at least,” Jet murmured, ignoring her anger. Her breath seized in her throat as the flat of the knife (her knife!) traveled up her arm, Jet observing her through languid, half-closed eyes. “So, do you know it?” he asked.
“Yes…!” Mai gasped; the cold steel left a trail of burning heat over her skin. The anxious, wanting pulse between her legs suddenly tightened to the point of pain. She hissed, closing her eyes, breathing shallow pants.
“Shall we play?” Jet whispered in her ear, skimming the knife point over her sensitized, aroused nipple.
“Yes!” Mai snagged her bottom lip between her teeth, embarrassed to have sounded so eager for Jet’s twisted game.
“Then, let’s play…”
It was an appallingly simple game, although the name was misleading. Mai became entranced, watching Jet’s deft knife-play, the edge of the knife drawing patterns over her white skin, seeming to dance in the flicker of the firelight, never once actually drawing blood. Where her moans, stifled cries, and gasps encouraged him, Jet lingered, tracing ever-smaller circles around her soft breasts, stroking across her lower belly, teasing her upper thighs.
“Ah!” she cried, her left thigh twitching instinctively when the knife slipped too close to her already wet folds.
“Tch!”
Mai heard and felt metal thudding into wood; Jet had buried the point of the knife in the table between her knees. Before she could ask what made him stop, his warm mouth was already pressed against her inner thigh, suckling the skin. She winced at the sting, aware that the knife must have cut her there when she had moved.
“H-how many was it?” she breathed, straining against the leather straps so she could take hold of him, hold his head between her legs, have him pay attention to the need he had been stoking all along without release.
His tongue continued to lap against her thigh, lips moving ever-so-slightly upwards, the weight of his chest across her other thigh becoming tiresome. “There’s a penalty for cutting,” she reminded him with a growl.
Jet stopped, raised his head, looking at her with an expression more suited to a predator interrupted in a meal than an apologetic lover. Mai’s stomach muscles clenched, her heart leaping in her chest.
“So there is…” he rumbled, face smoothing expressionless. He yanked the knife out of the plank and moved toward the head of the table. “Where do you want it?”
Mai considered, flattening her cheek against the table to get a better view. “Take off your pants,” she said at last.
Jet obeyed with a word or change in expression, sliding the knot from his sash, the garment collapsing in a heap at his feet. For all his carefully crafted indifference, Mai noted with satisfaction, he was obviously aroused. Ignoring the clench of demand between her thighs and the prickling of her stimulated skin, focusing instead on the prick of the now-bloodless cut, Mai said, “Your right hip, the side, above the bone.”
“You didn’t need me to lose my pants to choose that,” Jet remarked, swiping the knife over his skin, a thin red line beading and spilling over the curve of the bone.
“Mmm…” she agreed, pressing the tip of her tongue against her upper lip.
Jet started forward, eyes widening. “Ah, almost got me,” he said, shaking his head and walking back to the counter. Leaving his pants behind, but that was neither here nor there.
Mai pouted, rolling her wrists in the bands. ‘"Familiarity breeds contempt," is it?’ she sighed. Not that she could not come up with new ways to break his concentration, but it was more convenient if he were not so quick to adapt. “Jet, why…?”
“So many questions,” said Jet, coming up beside her. “Normally, you act like you don’t give a shit about anything.”
Stung, Mai glared up at him. “No, I don’t, I… why do you have my kodachi?”
“You act like you don’t care,” he continued as if he had not heard her, tapping the hand-guard against his shoulder, fingers flexing over the highly polished ebony sheath, “but anyone who pays attention would know you just have your priorities. Take this thing,” he said, popping the blade loose from the sheath with a flick of his thumb. “You bitched and moaned about it for days, and you say you hate using the thing, but look: not a speck of rust, not a thread out of place on the hilt, not even a damned knick in the blade or the sheath.” He touched the pommel cap to Mai’s cheek, the bronze warm from the candles and his own body heat, trailing it down her throat and between her breasts. “Something like this, you care about. So much that I could be jealous.”
“What are you saying, Jet?” Mai asked, not liking the way she shivered under the kodachi’s caress. ‘He’s not going to go for another round of Thousand Cuts, is he?’ Horrified as she tried be at the idea, the heat and sing of lust between her legs reached fever pitch; Mai bit back on a moan that nearly escaped her lips. “What are you…?”
“Don’t play innocent, Mai,” Jet breathed, bending over her, a grin spreading across his lips. “I’m sure you’ve done it. Something like this, so convenient, so deadly… it’s right up your alley.” He tilted his head, amused at his own private joke. “So to speak.”
“I… what?! Jet, what are you…?!” Mai gasped as Jet mounted the table, his knees bracketing her thighs, his arousal ever more evident, but all Mai could focus on was the kodachi. ‘He’s not seriously going to…!’
“You’re blushing,” Jet noted, leaning on one hand to kiss between her breasts. “It’s almost like you’re an innocent little girl who wouldn’t dream of playing games like this. But you’re so wet, you obviously want it.”
“Jet, don’t, I… ah!” Mai jerked against the restraints as the hard lacquer sheath entered her, sliding in just enough to stimulate her.
“Faster?” Jet asked, sliding it in and out in the time it took for Mai to seize a breath. “Slower?” Mai shuddered, moaning as the sheath slid into her so that she felt every stretch and pulse within her. “Deeper?”
“Oh, oooohhhh…” Mai yanked at her bonds, shying away from the intense waves of pleasure reverberating through her as Jet pushed the sheath deeper into her. He’s fucking me with me own weapon! I’m being fucked by my own sword!’ Instead of rage, another wave of pleasure crashed down on her; Jet was going faster now, increasing the tempo of his thrusts, adjusting the angle ever-so-slightly each time to touch off another flood of sensation. “Aaah!” She could hardly feel the leather biting into her limbs, her senses awash with frenetic heat and pleasure. She teetered on the brink, her heart pounding in her ears, her body soaring toward climax…
“Hm.” Without warning, the sensations stopped; Jet had withdrawn the kodachi.
Mai gasped for air, bereft, oddly aware of the sweat streaming off her body as she looked up at him in confusion. “Wh-why…?”
“Getting you off right now would mean the game’s over,” Jet explained, flicking his tongue over her breast, sucking the moisture from her nipple. Ignoring Mai’s mewl and shudder of frustration, he teased her other breast with his teeth before sitting back on his heels, gripping his shaft in his free hand. “You responded so well, though,” he murmured, stroking himself, his eyes far-off and dreaming, “I want to try something else.”
“And that would be?” Mai wanted to know, watching him work himself to climax. “Why don’t you just fuck me yourself, instead of playing around like that. You know you want to.”
Jet snarled at her, stroking harder, faster. “You’re not winning that easily!” he growled, even as he leaning forward, the swelling head of his erection hovering scant centimeters from her opening.
“Fuck you!” Mai hissed as he came, white fluid splashing over her thighs and crotch. Oh, Agni, he was still swollen, still stiff, even as he came down from his climax, grinning and panting. ‘Asshole!’
“I just did, but thanks anyway,” he panted, wiping his hand over her, doing a better job of smearing the sticky stuff than actually cleaning it off. His fingers ventured into her and Mai, determined as she was not to give the smug bastard the satisfaction, whimpered and raised her hips to deepen the touch, pleading that he end the torment.
“Ah-ah-ah,” he chided, though his hand lingered, splayed over her inner thigh, “you’re getting ahead of yourself.”
“Unbuckle one of my wrists and see how much head I get,” she snapped, cursing at herself.
“Oooo, nice comeback – you get a reward for that!”
“‘Rewa-’ ah! Ah, J-Jet, no… please…!” Mai shrieked, falling headlong into a tortuous maelstrom of pleasure as the hilt of the kodachi, the ridges of the ito shooting shock upon shock of sensation through her. The coarse silk swelled with her coming, soaked with her release as she spiraled toward climax. ‘Too much… I can’t…!’ For all her screams and moans, for all her vain writhing, Jet continued, relentless, skillfully thrusting, never lingering long enough, never quite pushing her over that precipice of agonized pleasure. Either she was going to break or the table was!
“Good, good…” she heard him somehow whisper to her about the thunderous drumbeat of her heart (she could not scream any more, for lack of breath). Anger and desperation seized her and the binding leather became like paper; she grabbed the weapon and transfixed herself, seeking the final release…
“Aaaah… uhn… uhm?” Bewildered, Mai turned her head, wondering how the wooden table had turned to white sheets while she had not been looking… and why there was a blanket strangling her legs or why slats of white light were stabbing her eyes or why her sleeping robe was askew and her hand was between her legs and her fingers damp…
“Oh.” Jolted awake, Mai jerked her hand behind her back, like she was five and her governess had just caught her with a piece of candy. Only, there was no one else in the room (her bedroom). ‘Jet…’ Blood flushed her cheeks as realization hit her: the table, the surgery, the Thousand Cuts, Jet… Jet’s hands, Jet working her kodachi into her, pleasuring and tormenting her, it was all just…!
“Hey!” Without ceremony, the bedroom door slid open and Jet strolled into the room, looking like he had just gotten back from a refreshing dip in the communal tub. He held something out to Mai. “Lucky you, there was a blade-sharpener passing by when I went to the sparring grounds; it cost me a quarter silver, so you’d better… hey!”
“GET OUT!” She almost (almost!) unsheathed the kodachi she had snatched from Jet’s unsuspecting hand, but her cooler demeanor won out over her instinctive embarrassment. “And don’t touch my knives ever again!”
“I… wait… what?!” Jet demanded as the door slammed to in his face. “The fu… hey!”
Mai slumped against the door, hugging the kodachi to her chest and trembling, of all things. ‘There’s something seriously wrong with me,’ she thought, rubbing her thumb over the crimson chords wrapping the sheath.
‘But I’d bet… if I asked…’
- FIN -
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This Is Healing