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Pretty Things	By : AngelaBlythe Category: Avatar - The Last Airbender > Het - Male/Female Views: 17894 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Part I
- 1
A/N: The point of fanfiction is to manipulate characters in believable ways into unbelievable situations. I feel like – after MUCH thought – that I may have overstepped my bounds as a writer, and completely butchered a character I love more than my own fingers.
Thanks to the wonderful inspiration of RASHAKA I have edited Pretty Things into a new story, non-Zutara. It’s okay if you don’t like it, because it’s an unconventional pairing. Nevertheless, the Pretty Things story arch no longer belongs in SOMEBODY’S GOT A CASE OF THE MONDAYS. If you would like to read that Zutara drabble series you can find it at “href="http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3185741/1/">http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3185741/1/” - without the quotes, of course.
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PRETTY THINGS
He could not risk her escape – she’d already had one semi-successful attempt. He was sorely tempted to break her fingers…he’d told her so, held her hand tenderly, kissed each fingertip as he described the sound of breaking bones. But her hands were too fine…too soft and delicate to break. He could think of better uses for hands like that than to break them.
But he did have to restrain her. So he’d had her hands wrapped tightly in thick cotton and then tied them behind her back. He’d left her with just one chain that connected a heavy metal collar to the wall. The metal collar – a very heavy torque – around her neck was almost too weighty for her slight frame. She couldn’t move very well, especially with her hands bound behind her back. She couldn’t sit, and was stuck, belly down, on the cold, hard ground. It was quite pathetic, and it endeared him to her.
“If you promise not to escape I could take the torque off.”
She didn’t say a word. She hadn’t said a word the whole time.
“If you would just tell me where they are I could unwrap your hands.”
At this she raised her head and turned it away from him.
But things like this didn’t work on her, and he soon grew bored of being reasonable. He soon grew tired of her silence and her damnable hard, icy eyes. And when he pulled the chain attached to the torque she choked. He pulled slowly, then jerkily, until she was backed against the bars of her cell, wheezing and coughing painfully. Still, she had not cried out, had not begged for mercy.
“I do not have to be so nice,” he murmured in her ear. She didn’t react when he yanked on her hair – which had come out of its braid when she’d tried to escape.
He stopped pulling, but did not release her hair. Like her hands it was too soft, too nice to hurt. Just like the rest of her, it was almost too beautiful to destroy.
But Zhao reminded himself of an important point, and he told her so. “You may be pretty, little waterbender, but I have no use for pretty things. And I can make you a lot less pretty if you don’t start talking…”
Was that…? Did she just sigh and roll her eyes?! He couldn’t tell; she wasn’t looking right at him. But that WAS a sigh! She wasn’t scared of him! He pulled on her hair again, and she gasped in surprise. “This is not a joke, waterbender,” he growled dangerously in her ear. “I could kill you…”
Her jaw was clenched.
Being reasonable didn’t work. Intimidation didn’t work. Pain didn’t work. Zhao smirked. This might not work either…but it would be a lot more satisfying than going back to his cabin alone. And it had been a long time since he’d gotten to play with pretty things.
“Guards!” he shouted. “Take her to my cabin.”
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During her semi-successful escape attempt the waterbender had more-or-less destroyed her Water Tribe clothing. It was only a matter of honor that had forced him to clothe her, and the smock someone had dredged up from somewhere wasn’t particularly warm…or modest.
He had often admired her legs…long and shapely. Her ankles and feet were particularly delicate, and it was erotic to think of them crossed behind his back. It was that thought he had in mind when he moved towards her. She was eyeing the basin of water at her feet, probably making all kinds of plans…but her hands were tied firmly behind her back, and there was no room for wiggling fingers. When he stood above her, however, she looked up at him with dark, defiant eyes.
“I’m tired of hurting you,” he told her as he sat on the low footstool before her. He took one foot in hand, ran his fingers over the curve of her ankle. She jerked it away from him, but he held fast, digging his fingers into a pressure point that made her inhale in pain. “But I will if I have to…” he threatened softly, watching as she pursed her lips and glared. He released the pressure point.
Her feet were caked in dirt, and when he dipped her foot in the basin she hissed and pulled away. “Well,” he murmured. “That won’t do at all…” He heated it with a snort of steam. Her eyes widened, cautiously watching him as he pushed her foot back into the heated water.
The foot was cold in his hand, but he ran his fingers over it, massaging off the dirt and warming it with his hands. He slid his fingers up her calves, washing them with care, enjoying her smooth skin and sinewy muscles. She didn’t move, but her muscles were beginning to relax. Zhao kept his smile to himself. He was on the verge of moving his hands up her thighs when she jerked her leg swiftly, and her foot froze in the basin, the water all the way up her leg freezing as well.
Zhao smirked. “Isn’t that handy?” he said with a hint of humor. “Point taken,” he murmured, unfreezing the water with ease.
Then he took her other foot, warmed it with the water and his hands, running fingers up and down her calf and stopping at her knee. He was a gentleman after all… But when he was done he continued massaging the bottom of her foot, looking at her face. Her face was coldly impassive, completely nonplussed, but her eyes were conflicted, confused…apprehensive?
“I’ve been thinking,” he said softly, sliding his fingers over her ankle. “I do have some use for pretty things…” He kissed her ankle softly, and was amazed at the quickness of her foot as she jerked it away and pushed on his shoulder, nearly knocking him over.
She was glaring, her face a mask of hard, cold anger. “Never without my permission,” she hissed.
Oh, he smirked, so this was what it took to get a rise out of Little Miss Water Tribe. His smirk turned into a smile. “See…that’s where you’re wrong…” he replied in a low voice, enjoying the play of emotion on her face as he stood and paced around her. “I don’t need your permission to do anything…you’re my prisoner…and a peasant…”
Her jaw was set aggressively as she stared defiantly into his eyes. Yet she said nothing, and turned her face from him with pouting, proud lips. He smirked again, dipping a soft washrag into the basin and moving before her. She did not look happy when he took the cloth to her face, washing away the streaks of dirt and blood. He moved the cloth gently over her cheeks and nose, washed the underside of her chin and down her neck. Her eyes followed him relentlessly, hard and uneasy. Her body grew tense as he unbuttoned the first few clasps of the tattered, gray smock. He didn’t go any lower than was strictly appropriate – that he could save until later.
He washed her shoulders and arms, amazed that all of her skin – once the dirt was cleaned off – was an amazing light mocha color. It was soft and slightly cold, and smelled vaguely of snow and winter. She’d made no more aggressive moves, but he could tell she was considering her options. She didn’t have many.
She jerked away from his hand as he caressed her neck. Zhao smirked. “You know, you’re not making it any easier on yourself. You should be enjoying this…admirals of the Royal Fire Nation Navy do not often wash their prisoners…”
At this she raised an eyebrow before turning her eyes away. Without even speaking she could affect him so much! Her pretty, little lips were almost curved, as though she found something amusing. Zhao glowered. He would not let her get the upper hand. He wound his hand in the hair at the back of her neck, pulling her head back as he whispered in her ear.
“I’m going to take such great pleasure in breaking you, little waterbender,” he murmured, feeling her tense. “It won’t be easy…I’ll be so disappointed if it is…be sure to put up a fight, won’t you?”
With that he kissed her neck, amazed at the softness. He nipped the flesh there gently, and she jumped at the sensation. Oh, this was going to be so much fun… he smiled into her neck, tasting her as he placed a hand on her knee, gently running his hand up and down her thigh. She was tense under him, as if she was ready to run just then…maybe that would be a fun game for later…
“They say women from the Water Tribe make the best concubines,” he whispered into her ear, moving his hand higher and under the gray shift slightly. “Powerful men over the centuries have been known to have several…they’re always praised as the most affectionate concubines…”
Then she did something that completely surprised him. She turned her face to him, her eyes soft and gentle. She licked her lips, staring deeply into his eyes…and blew ice into his face… Zhao jerked away, instantly heating his body to melt the ice. It was a thin layer, and it dripped down his shirt.
“Didn’t I say, ‘never without my permission’?” she asked in a hard, low voice.
He was wrong. This wasn’t going to be fun. This was going to be delicious. “You’re more dangerous than you look, aren’t you?” he asked lightly.
A thin smile was her response.
He dragged her roughly over to his bed and threw her in it. That was enough fun for a little while. He’d return after dinner. After all, he didn’t want to break her all at once – and it had been such a long time since he’d had something pretty to play with.
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When he returned to his cabin he was tired, but anxious. She would be his first toy in a long, long time – though certainly not the first of her kind – and he did not want to ruin her. He had to be patient, or else it wouldn’t be any fun. The only problem was all the urges she caused. They were strong. He was always fighting urges, balancing himself on the razor’s edge. She tipped the balance…he was eager for her…he was fascinated with her…
The petty little waterbender had not moved from where he threw her hours earlier. She looked almost serpentine, her hips and legs curving like hills and valleys…he had never known another person that he wanted to touch so much as her. He shunned physical contact…even with bought women, he used them and discarded them as he saw fit. He did not enjoy touching others, unless it was with violence. But he enjoyed touching her…he enjoyed playing with his pretty, forbidden toy…
And she would come to enjoy it, too, he thought, sliding over to her and running his hand from her calf, up her thigh, and exposing her backside. He ran his knuckles over her soft skin, flawless as liquid caramel. When he looked to her face her eyes were dark as a storm. Her glare persisted as she sat hesitantly, curling her legs beneath her and turning to face him.
He didn’t want to hurt her. He wanted to break her, but he did not want to hurt her. Her body was far to pretty for bruises and burns, her skin far too perfect to be marred. And though he knew it would be a trying experience, once he was done breaking her he could enjoy her without having to threaten or intimidate her. He was determined to have her as his concubine when he returned to the Fire Nation after capturing the Avatar.
“Are you a virgin?” he asked quietly.
And to his surprise she actually blushed at this, turning away. Wasn’t that interesting? He knew that the way to break her was through her sexuality, not through pain. That was how good sex slaves were made. But this was almost too…sweet.
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he continued, crawling over to her. She backed away into the wall. “You’re young still. Fifteen?” She didn’t reply. He was so close he could smell her – and though her hair was still a little dirty with streaks of blood and dirt, her skin had a pure, wintery smell to it. “I was thirteen,” he told her. “But there are different expectations for royalty than for…peasants.”
A dark smile formed in the corner of his mouth when he felt her foot on his stomach. He wondered exactly how limber she was, for he was very close to her and she had managed to put her leg between them. She pushed him away. Not violently, but slowly and steadily. Zhao smiled and grasped her foot – almost immediately she tried to pull away, but he held fast.
With that same, determined smile, Zhao pushed her foot over his shoulder to the knee, leaning over her. She tried to struggle, but with her arms bound and her legs pinned, all she managed was an alluring squirm. Zhao ran his hand up and down the soft length of her leg. Her face was angry but scared. Her eyes betrayed her terror as he leaned forward until her leg was flat against her chest.
“You’re going to make such a lovely concubine,” he whispered dangerously with his nose almost touching hers.
Then she jerked her head to the side, her hair shielding her face. “Get off of me,” she spat.
“Oh, I don’t think so. I’m quite comfortable.” He let his fingers skim down lower on her thigh, brushing over her backside again. She trembled under his hand as he cupped her bottom. “First things first, though,” he continued, rubbing her sweet, firm ass with warm hands. “You’ll call me ‘master.”
She looked at him with a doubtful look on her face as if to say, “Yah, right.”
He pinched her bottom none too gently and she jumped, startled, and faced him with bright eyes. “You’ll call me ‘master,’” he continued. “You’ll sleep in my bed. You’ll speak to no one but me. You won’t even look at other people. It’s fairly simple.”
Fires of defiance and righteousness burned in the Water Tribe girl’s eyes. “My friends will come for me.”
A dark smile painted his face. Swiftly and harshly he pressed his lips to hers, noting the terrified noises his mouth muffled. “I certainly hope so.”
Her bottom lip was trembling – her whole body shook unmistakably with fear. Zhao liked her like this. He kissed her again, pushing her down into the bed, her knee still hooked around his shoulder. She was struggling, but he held her face with his other hand and parted her lips. Her mouth was chilly, as if she was attempting to use her ice breath again. He did not let her catch her breath as he forced her hips to his.
And then something he had not anticipated happened. She shivered…and moaned into his kiss, her resistance shaking. He released her face and she turned away from him. “Stop it,” she said softly, her face a little pink.
He smirked. “I thought you were an innocent…I didn’t know how innocent…”
“Just put me back in the cell,” she said in a hard, angry voice.
But Zhao only shook his head then turned to kiss the inside of her knee. “I don’t think so. You’ll be more comfortable here anyway.”
“I won’t be comfortable being raped,” she spat, trying to jerk her leg away.
He chuckled darkly. “No…not rape. By the time I’m done with you, my pretty little waterbender, you’ll beg for what I’ll give you.”
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When he moved off of her she curled up in the corner of his bed, back to the corner. He smirked and stripped off his shirt, noting that she looked pointedly away from him with flushed cheeks. The silk rustled to the ground as he moved about his cabin. “Consider this,” he lectured lightly, sitting at his meditation altar. “Even if you did escape, we’re nowhere near land. Your friends have no way of finding you until I dock, so you’re at my mercy for the next few weeks at least. I’m heading north, you’re heading north, your friends are heading north…you get the idea.”
He glanced over at her. Her eyes were downcast, lips slightly parted. “If you wish to have a chance to rejoin your friends, you have to stay with me. If you wish to remain unharmed, you have to do what I say.”
She still wasn’t looking at him, but he could tell she was seriously considering his words. For a moment she looked quite pathetic. She drew her knees up to her chest and rested her forehead on them. She shuddered as she exhaled. “Please unbind my hands…master…”
Zhao felt a slow, wicked smile cross his face. What a smart, pretty waterbender he’d found for himself… He knew this was a good idea…what fun…pretty things were sometimes so much fun…
He cut the bonds off her hands and watched as she stretched her arms and flexed her fingers. She shied away from him, however, when he placed a hand on her thigh. Her skin was a little chilly. He pinched her thigh – not too roughly – in reprimand. “Is that any way to thank your master?” he asked in a low, dangerous voice.
She looked away from him. “Th-thank you…master…”
When he kissed her again she didn’t fight it quite as much as she had the first time. She tasted like snow and winter, and her lips were soft and sweet. He couldn’t believe his luck, finding her. She would make the most amazing concubine, and would last him the next twenty years at least. Zhao had never wanted a plethora of women – and he’d only had one other long-term concubine. It wasn’t sensible for a military man to have a kept woman on board a ship. But the war would soon be over, and coming home with some spoils didn’t sound too bad at all. This Water Tribe concubine would be the envy of every hot-blooded man in the Fire Nation.
Her hands began to push at him when he lowered her down on the bed once more. He caught her slender wrists easily with one large hand, pinning them just above her head. “No…please…” she whispered when his lips moved to her neck. “Please stop,” she said with a whimper. He crushed her lips with his again, satisfied with the low moan she emitted in the back of he throat. She was young, inexperienced, and beautiful…
His other hand brushed her ribs, and he moved to cup her breast in his hand. She was soft, and her youthful, lithe body was writhing beneath his in both fear and arousal. It had been a little while since he’d had a woman – his mission occupied him fully. But her body and her skin lit the flames of desire and need within him, and he would no longer deny himself. Buttons scattered to the floor as he tore open her shift. She jumped in fear at this aggressive act, laid bare before him.
She was beautiful and perfect. Her light mocha skin was firm and taunt, and promised to be soft and delicate to the touch. Her body was well made, though she could stand to eat a little more – he would have liked to see her a little curvier. Still, she was young, and would probably grow into her body more in the next two years. He admired her full, round breasts, her dark areolas. Her legs were long and shapely, and curved perfectly into her hips. He’d made an exceptional decision…
“Please, no,” she pled again. Tears were forming in the wells of her eyes, but she did not shed them. Zhao detested crying women.
She tested the strength of his hand, pulling at her wrists. Zhao smirked. She still had fight in her…marvelous. “It will hurt more if you fight me,” he murmured in her ear. She shuddered against him and then nodded.
His tongue pillaged her mouth, brushing against her light tongue. At first she struggled to pull away from his lips, twisting her head. But then her tongue met his tentatively he wanted to howl with triumph. He pulled away from the sweetness of her mouth and reveled in the softness of her neck, making sure nothing he did would bruise too badly. Her skin was fresh and clean (he’d washed it himself, after all). He heard her breathing catch as he nibbled at her collarbone. She was trembling when he finally captured one, hardened nipple between his teeth. He grinned when she mewed prettily, arching her back.
He enjoyed her breasts, feasting on them and running his tongue over their sweet softness. That was when he smelled her – gods, she was heavenly! His mouth was still on her round, tanned breasts when released her wrists and slipped a hand between her legs.
“Please no,” she whimpered in a low moan.
He ran his fingers along her opening, spreading her folds in wonder of her wetness. No wonder he had smelled her! She was practically dripping! “You really are extraordinary, my pretty little waterbender,” he whispered in her ear, dipping a finger inside of her briefly. Gods, she was hot. She was wet, ready to be taken. “You’re soaking, Katara. Your body betrays you…you want this… Amazing…”
He saw her close her eyes and shake her head. He slid his finger into her again, pleased at her virgin tightness. He wanted to go down and taste her, watch her orgasm, but he needed to prepare her for him. He did not want to hurt her…she really was too pretty for blood… Zhao had never had a virgin, and he found this kind of torture to his liking.
When he added a second finger her chest heaved and she tried to push him away. But she was weak against him, and the hands she pressed against his shoulders just ended up clinging to him. He suckled at her breasts again, unable to resist their round softness. She gasped and shuddered when his thumb began to circle her clitoris. She made a high-pitched moaning sound and bucked her hips against his hand.
He removed his fingers quickly, noting she moaned loudly at the loss of contact, arching her back off the bed and shaking. Her eyes were glassy and unaware, and her bottom lip was trembling. She was amazingly responsive – he’d heard the Water Tribe women were. And she was young, too – inexperienced. She acted as if she knew exactly what noises and responses a man desire from a woman, and she was so unbelievably wet. He almost couldn’t believe he’d found a woman like her.
He divested himself of his pants, crawling towards her with feline grace and spreading her legs. And for the first time she did not fight him. She whimpered ‘no,’ but she did not push at him, and gasped when his manhood brushed her entrance. The heat of her core drove him wild, nearly unleashing his fire. He pushed the head of his manhood into her tight heat. Her breathing became harsh. It was only a little difficult – he was so hard and she was so wet – and when he pushed into her fully she fell limp as if paralyzed. Her eyes were squeezed shut and her body trembled with pain. He did not know how much this would hurt her. She was after all a petite girl, and he was a warrior, massive in comparison to her.
With her thighs flat on the bed he reached down and caressed them softly, bringing them around his hips. When she moaned, arching, he sunk deeper into her. His focus was broke, his patience worn out. He pulled out of her and then slammed back in. The friction was wonderful, and she encased him perfectly, her slickness and her warmth enveloping him as he plunged in and out of her to the sound of her cries.
He kissed her harshly, hammering his length into her and bracing his forearms on the outside of her shoulders. She felt exquisite, the softness of her body pressed against his, the clenching of her walls against his manhood. Her moans and cries began to intensify, and by her breathing and sighing alone he could tell she was close to coming.
“Say my name!” he commanded, pulling away form her sweet mouth to look into her glossy eyes. “Say it,” he repeated, thrusting into her harder.
She gasped. “Master…” she murmured, digging her nails into his shoulders.
Her whisper made his member begin to drip. He wanted to hear his name on her lips. “No,” he growled, his next thrust hard and deep. “My name.”
She shuddered, tilting her head back slightly. Her neck and chest were open to him, and her full breasts moved in time with his forceful hips. She looked absolutely stunning, and her walls tightened impossibly around him as she orgasmed. The words on her mouth as she came were his name, soft and slow, and over and over again. “Zhao…” she whispered. “Zhao…”
He lost control and came hard, shooting his seed deep into her womb. As he roared fire and steam escaped his mouth, and hit the ceiling as he tilted his head up so as not to harm her. Her hips rocked with his slowly, milking him of his seed until he collapsed over her. Her body was surprisingly cool, though her core was still hot. He stayed inside of her, reveling in the smoothness of her body, and her light breath on his chest and neck. He leaned down to kiss her. There was no resistance when he did so, and he smiled at this. She was his now.
After several minutes of breathing and running his hands over her body, Zhao rolled away from his lovely concubine. He felt the loss of her almost immediately, and it was almost intolerable. He had a suspicion that these feelings would only grow with time. It was not healthy to grow accustomed to one’s concubine. Attachment like that was dangerous. He could not allow himself to feel this way. But he would not release her. She was his pretty little plaything, and he planned on having her for a very long time.
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Pretty Things