Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

Breakdown	By : RyuaAlba Category: Avatar - The Last Airbender > AU/AR - Alternate Universe/Alternate Reality > Het- Male/Female Views: 4883 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar, or any of the characters you may recognize from it. I do not make any money off of this, just pleasure.

Chapter List
- 1-Breakdown
- 1
She put on the offered clothing. While she wasn’t really thrilled about her new circumstances, there were some things it was worth fighting about, and some that it was better to just accept. Plus, after finally getting clean, the idea of putting back on the ragged remains of her previous outfit was intolerable.
Although, she did have second thoughts as she started wrapping the fabric around herself, realizing just how little it covered her. It did at least allow her full range of movement… which on second thought, wasn’t really a good indication of what was to come. Still, she’d known what she was getting into when she made the decision to go back… and they’d needed the distraction. Without Mai present to change her mind and cover their retreat, the cords would have been cut and they’d have all fallen down to boil to death in the volcano. She wasn’t proud enough to think that either she or Zuko could have survived the swim to shore, and there was no way the rest of their group would have.
Lao Re twisted her hair to squeeze out most of the water and ran her fingers through it, fluffing it out, barely even thinking about the heat she generated to dry it within seconds. Frowning at how many knots she encountered, she separated it into three rough bundles and twisted up a braid quickly, since she hadn’t been given a comb or even a pick. Probably because she’d have used it to stab someone…
She wished she’d been learning Firebending longer, or had more of a natural talent. While little things like warming water for a bath, heat-drying herself, or resisting heat that would burn most people came fairly easily, she wasn’t a martial-trained bender. Zuko had taught her plenty about defense, and she could deflect anything he threw at her… but she’d only just learned about controlling it for offensive purposes. She doubted any of her guards weren’t Firebenders, and even assuming she got past a set of guards… she was in the Imperial Palace. If the guards didn’t take her down, Azula or Ozai would.
Azula would love the opportunity. The only reason the Princess hadn’t killed her straight off was because the moment Sokka’s father had limped off the gondola, she’d knelt at Azula’s feet and unconditionally surrendered. She’d hoped at first that Azula would just order her thrown in prison, but the unfortunate observation had been made that her connections to the Avatar’s group in addition to her occupation made her too valuable and… interesting. The Firelord would want control of her directly.
So here she was, in an interior room of the Imperial Palace, getting dressed by light of the small globe of fire she’d set on the ground in front of her. It wasn’t that the outfit was more sexual than any she’d worn before, she reflected. In fact, she’d worn far more… or less, she supposed the proper wording would be. The difference was… when she performed for an audience for money, or for her friends, it was her choice to do so, and the only obligation she was under was to put on a good show. Here… here she was little better than a slave, with the threat of long, unpleasant deaths ensuring her good behavior.
The door to her room opened as she was putting the final adjustments on the skirt, not really more than the section of long fabric that draped around her hips, and a guard glanced in at her. She let her firelight die out as his gaze went from impassive to appreciative leering. That didn’t bother her. She got that look as a matter of course, in her daily job, and a part of her enjoyed that she got that effect, even in these circumstances. He gestured for her to follow him, and another guard fell into step behind her.
It wasn’t a long walk, and she realized she must already be in the Firelord’s private wing, since the guards stopped less than fifty steps away from where her tiny dark room started. The door was certainly grand, and at the guard’s knock, the ornately decorated door swung inwards. She caught sight of a well-dressed servant behind the door, bowing them in. The guard behind her shoved her shoulder, not too hard, and she walked into the room, a little quicker than she’d have liked to, to avoid stumbling from the push.
She glanced around the room, taking in as much as she could while trying not to look at the man seated in the opulent, throne-like chair on a beautifully woven rug, an elegant end table beside him, several small china glasses and a matching pitcher waiting on it. It was a well-proportioned room, of course, with the entire south wall constructed of windows, letting sunlight pour into the room. There was a light, spicy smell in the room, mixed with a clean male human scent, underscored by the even fainter tinge of fire, not quite the smell of smoke, that all Firebenders carried. Despite how much she was trying, she couldn’t find a fault with the room, or the decorations… the man had good taste, she had to reluctantly admit.
“Thank you. You may go,” His voice was rich and surprisingly pleasant to listen to, and she heard the guards walk out and the door close behind her. “So… my son’s little whore… so nice to meet you at last.” And then she had to look at him. Despite the disdainful way he said whore, his face was neutral, speculative as he watched her. He had the same brilliant gold eyes that his son did, contrasting vibrantly with the pale, elegant lines of his face and framed by the silky smooth black hair, not yet showing any trace of grey. Well, at least he wasn’t ugly. Although it might have been easier if he was… he so resembled what Zuko should have had the chance to be.
Lao Re hesitated for a brief second before replying. She intended to survive this, and she intended to go back to Zuko and Mai at the end of it. However, she wasn’t anywhere near innocent enough to pretend she’d get out of this situation untouched. Very well. If her loyalty was going to stay with Zuko, then she’d make some rules for herself now, to keep her mind as intact as possible. Zuko would be the Firelord. And more importantly, HER Firelord. Therefore that title and any resembling it belonged to him only… “Ozai. You have a lovely set of rooms,” she said calmly, as if she were simply visiting a friend’s house.
She inwardly flinched at the expression on his face. It was a very subtle one, but he was amused, or perhaps pleased at the intimacy her use of his name implied. Scorch it, she was hoping he’d take it as insubordination… oh well, it was too late now to take it back. “When I first heard my son had abandoned his high-born fiancée for a common street-whore, I thought he was simply being a fool. I must admit, though… properly dressed, you are almost acceptable company.”
Careful not to clench her jaw, she inclined her head at the near-compliment, ignoring the fact that it was only presented to give the slur more intensity. And if he didn’t realize Mai was still Zuko’s intended fiancée, she wasn’t about to enlighten him. What the three of them did to balance their relationship was their own business. While he was likely to learn everything there was to know about her own carnal nature, she wasn’t about to drag her lovers’ secrets into the midden.
His expression widened into an actual smile at her apparent acceptance of her situation. “Perhaps we can improve on your bearing further… it has been some time since I’ve had a concubine worthy of notice. Come here,” Ozai said, yellow eyes not quite glaring at her, enforcing the order. There could be worse demands, she supposed, and did as he asked. “Kneel.” His tone was still pleasant, but slightly harder now, clearly determined that he would be obeyed.
She swirled her skirts slightly as she knelt in front of him, so they settled on the ground properly instead of bunching awkwardly under her legs. “At least you’re graceful…” He raised one foot, laying it in her lap, not quite smirking as it brushed against her breasts lightly. “Now rub. It has been a long day.”
It gave her an excuse to lean back from his touch as she moved her hands to his foot, and as well, an excuse to look down, instead of at his face. She concentrated on rubbing, letting the heat in her fingers increase to the point where most people would find it uncomfortable, but a Firebender would find it perfectly relaxing. By focusing on his immaculately clean, well-cared for feet, she was able to stifle the very quiet observation that she hadn’t disliked that brief contact.
The problem with being a professional whore, or courtesan she supposed, since she’d taken Mai and Zuko as clients, was that her body had become very responsive. Working at giving people pleasure had increased her own body’s sensitivity. Ordinarily this was a good thing, it made her work a joy instead of an effort… but she didn’t particularly want serving Ozai to be a pleasurable experience.
She lost track of time as she massaged his feet, taking care to give both equal attention. When he cleared his throat, she blinked, looking up at him, although she didn’t stop her gentle kneading. He hadn’t ordered her to stop, after all. “Now… before I trust you to go any further… I first intend to be sure you have the skills to properly perform.” She glanced up at him in time to see him beckon, and turned slightly to see someone else approaching, the servant she’d seen before. Now she had the chance to look properly, it was clear he wasn’t a member of the servant class at all, his robes were too fine, thin, greying hair and beard meticulously kept, and a body that looked to have more muscle mass than a personal servant usually acquired. “This is General Bujing. He will do me the favor of testing you, while I… evaluate.” Ozai’s voice had picked up a decidedly gloating undertone.
She froze, despite herself. Zuko had told her, eventually, the story of how his father had given him his scar. And she hadn’t forgotten the name of the General who had been too cowardly to face the passionate teenager, sentenced him to face his own father instead. “You…” she angrily started to say, not even sure what she was planning on saying to him.
Pain abruptly flared in her nose and cheek, stars exploding across her field of vision. After a moment, she realized Ozai had kicked her, and she raised a hand reflexively to check her nose. She had just enough time to ascertain that it wasn’t broken or bleeding when he kicked her again, in the ribs. She gasped, stifling any further noise, vaguely aware of him saying “You will continue with me as you attend to him. And if you do not give a satisfactory performance, he has permission to break your teeth until you are capable of doing so.”
Her hands moved quickly back to Ozai’s feet as he started to speak. And debated trying to bite Bujing in half anyway… but realized with a slight flush of shame that she wasn’t willing to lose her teeth over it. Swallowing and taking a calming breath, she turned her head to the side, to where the eager General had already pulled his robes aside.
It wasn’t a technically difficult job. She’d certainly pleasured bigger, both in thickness and length… although his sagging gut did push her head to an awkward angle. She could feel Ozai’s gaze on her, and felt her cheeks burn, no matter how much she told herself that this wasn’t anything she hadn’t done before. It was worse, with him there, watching, his foot pressing up against her breast again, rubbing in light circles. She tried to massage so he’d move farther away, but he was having none of it, and when Bujing’s hand grasped her head to encourage her to greater speeds, she was trapped in place.
So she tried to concentrate on the mechanical aspects of what she was doing, fingers and hands working over Ozai’s feet, trying not to flinch when he pressed against her nipple. She sucked obediently on the cock being forced deeper into her mouth, not long enough to make her gag, even with her head twisted awkwardly to the side. She tried to ignore the dull stinging in her cheek and ribs, the echo of pain from Ozai’s kicks fading from sharp pain to the low burn that she really wished right now she didn’t enjoy.
When Mai had first found her and Zuko out, she’d been furious, and Zuko’s strategy was to let Mai vent her frustrations on Lao Re. What had started as a whore’s survival technique of enjoying a little roughhousing developed quite quickly into a full blown love of expertly inflicted pain. Up until now, she’d fully welcomed that aspect of herself, but right now, she was really hoping that Ozai didn’t notice it. She let out a muffled yelp as the General’s fingers dug into her hair, yanking painfully on her scalp and sending a signal straight down her spine. She felt her cheeks flush pink again, and hoped Ozai would misinterpret it.
After a rather short amount of time, in her experience, Bujing’s hand drove her face flat against his groin, groaning with relief as he came down her throat. She winced slightly as her tender nose was forced against his flesh, and tried not to breathe too deeply, the scent of too much sake and not enough bathing pungent this close to him. She swallowed reflexively, not wanting in the least to taste his cum longer than necessary, and gasped in a grateful breath as he pulled her head back and let go.
She looked immediately back down at her lap, where she was still rubbing over Ozai’s feet, so she wouldn’t have to look at either of them, concentrating on schooling her expression, calming the flush of colour in her cheeks. “You may leave,” Ozai said over her head, and she heard Bujing’s steps leaving the room, closing the door behind him. It was almost another minute before he spoke again. “It seems to me that you enjoyed that,” he said, a leer in his voice.
“I did not,” she protested, a little too quickly, although she was at least able to keep from blushing again. She hadn’t technically enjoyed it… but there was a part of her that was very into a good session of humiliation. She was trying very hard to pretend that part of her did not exist.
“Hmm.” Ozai responded, sounding rather too smug to have believed her. “You may stop that. Drink this,” he said, handing her a small glass. She accepted it, smelling before she swallowed it. Even with that small bit of warning, the potent drink burned down the back of her throat, which she supposed was the point. There was no trace of semen in her mouth after that drink… and if his cleanliness and careful personal grooming was any indication, Ozai would want her clean.
Sure enough, he reached down, fingers hot against even her warm skin, brushing over her cheek and lifting her chin to look at him, his other hand taking the glass and setting it on the side table again. “Yes… a very adequate performance,” he said speculatively, watching her face intently. “Very informative. Now, you may begin,” he said, letting go of her face and leaning back comfortably in his chair. “Or do you need further motivation?”
Quite eager for him to not experiment with different ways of motivating her, she immediately shifted closer to the chair, hands running slowly up his silk-covered legs. He wasn’t in full court dress, which made this simpler, at least. His embroidered overshirt pulled easily to the side, the ties on his pants relatively simple and easy for her fingers to undo. His shaft was half-hard, although it straightened up quite eagerly under several experimental strokes of her fingers along his length.
She paused, two parts of her mind warring with each other, the independent protesting part winning out, if only briefly. “Hmm. I see Zuko gets his length from Roku’s line…” she said blandly before her head rocked to the side, cheek burning from the force of Ozai’s blow. She worried for a moment that it was literally burning, but she couldn’t smell enough heat for that. A second sharp strike knocked her back, catching herself on her elbows just before she fell flat to the ground. He was up out of his chair before she fully landed, kicking one arm out from under her, the same foot flipping her roughly over onto her front.
His knee was abruptly digging into her back, pinning her painfully to the ground, and leaving her disturbingly vulnerable. “Well, if you’re used to something so much larger, I’m sure you’re quite loose and ready,” he growled. Ozai’s hand replaced his knee, keeping her shoulders and face pressed into the luxurious carpet, his other hand roughly yanking her hips up into an awkward, unpleasantly open position.
She jerked, feeling his fingers probe briefly at her embarrassingly wet entrance. “Certainly as eager as a whore ought to be,” he hissed, fingers dragging up to press into her tight rear hole, the scant slick of moisture not anywhere enough lubrication to make the intrusion pleasant. She let out a breath that sounded more like a whimper, relaxing as quickly as she could, but the fingers were gone almost immediately, replaced by the now fully hard, engorged head of his cock.
Despite her quick words a minute ago, he was much larger than anything she was used to accommodating without proper preparation, and she cried out as he pushed roughly into her. It took him some time, she was tight and dry, but he eventually sheathed himself fully into her, his exceptional hardness proving that he was enjoying causing her pain even more than the sexual stimulation.
Her natural reflex made it almost impossible to relax, her muscles insisting on clenching, trying to push him out. She gasped, trying to shift under him, pinned to the floor. And then he started to move, pulling back out, almost right to the tip, and driving himself in again, making her yelp in protest. He shifted his hand to her arm instead, to improve his own comfort, and started to pound into her with great enthusiasm.
Lao Re clenched her teeth against the pain, trying to keep quiet, to ignore the raw, burning sensation. It was only a matter of time before her well-trained body started to betray her, though. His rough thrusts started to press a deep pleasure inside her, and it wasn’t long before she almost didn’t feel the pain anymore, at least not as pain. She couldn’t tell if he’d torn her somewhere and blood was making intrusion easier, or she’d just relaxed into the mingled pain and pleasure enough that it didn’t matter.
She didn’t realize she was moaning until she heard Ozai’s delighted voice. “By the flames, you’re actually enjoying this, aren’t you? What a delightful little slut.” His fingernails raked down her back, making her yelp and arch up against him, as much as she could with his hand pinning her arm painfully down to the ground.
“No, no I’m not,” she protested, her eyes squeezed shut as she lied through her clenched teeth. Her cheeks were flushed bright red from the humiliation of it, Ozai laughing mockingly as he pounded into her relentlessly. It was impossible for her to tell how much time had passed, but her pinned arm was painfully numb and she could feel her own arousal dripping down her thighs by the time Ozai finally came. He grabbed her hips with both hands, and she yelped as blood rushed painfully into her numbed arm, his fingers digging into her hips hard enough to bruise as he came, still chuckling slightly.
“Oh, you and I are going to have superb times together, my little whore,” he laughed, dropping her unceremoniously to the ground as he pulled out of her. “My son won’t even recognize you by the time I’m through with you.” She curled up against herself, trying to ignore him, ignore the still intense pain and the pleasure it brought, feeling dirtier than she could ever remember feeling.
- 1
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Breakdown