Thread: To Bend the Avatar to Tarlock's Will {darkest_fate&malin}

Blood-bending Korra should have known. But how could she have known? Tarlock hadn't given any indication that he'd learned the forbidden art, hadn't shown any of the signs. Korra knew about it, of course, thanks to Katara nearly every water bender in the world knew about blood-bending. They also knew that it required a great deal of skill and that the act itself corrupted the soul, unbalancing the one that used it. Which, considering how Tarlock had looked at Korra when he'd used his bending on her , only made sense. The Avatar had been beaten. She knew it. She laid there, slumped against the cold floor of the truck, her eyes hidden behind a thick bandage. Ropes or chains or something bent her muscular form into a bow shape. Tarlock knew better than to leave a bender of Korra's power with any freedom of movement whatsoever. He'd even caught her long hair into the bindings somewhere. Korra couldn't see it, so she didn't know precisely how he'd tied it. It felt as though her hair had been pulled back to some kind of central knot, while other thick bindings wrapped about her muscular frame. her normal garb still hung upon her athletic frame, though it had suffered at the hands of the mad water bender as well. The blue fabric and fur had been sliced, revealing the deep brown skin beneath. Korra could feel the air kissing parts of her abdomen, not to mention her bared forearms and bits of her leg. She tried to strain against the bindings several times, only to find them quite secure along her. All her straining did was thrust her chest out, though nobody was there to see the admittedly impressive chest stretching out the already straining clothing. Nor could they see the flexing of her rock hard ass as she turned. This is all my fault Korra thought, pinching her eyes shut behind the blindfold. She could only hope that Mako or Bolin or Tenzin found the scene and thought through it all. Someone had to think that something was up with Tarlock. Really it was Korra's only choice, and that thought alone sent more chill into her veins, flooding her. How long had she traveled? Korra couldn't tell. She'd lost all sense of time and direction. In this position, she couldn't even fully meditate or get in touch with her more spiritual side. Time just crept onward and Korra kept working at the bindings that bent her into this unnatural shape. Then the rumbling stopped. Korra froze, listening intently. Footsteps, crunching against the snow. Large ones? Like... an animal? There was more than one, Korra could tell that much. She didn't know what she'd do, considering her position, but she tensed her muscles anyway. A door swung open and Korra felt the blast of cold air hit her. Snow touched her bared skin, sucking her breath from her. Hands soon grappled with her, and she couldn't do more than squirm in their grasp. Korra entered frigid air, air that reminded her of home. Someone more accustomed to warmer climates might feel this chill more for Korra, it felt almost like a Fall day. Still, she would have worn significantly more clothing during harsher weather. The wind bit into her exposed flesh, and soon Korra felt her body sink into snow. Footsteps sounded around her, and all the Avatar could do was twist in their general direction, straining her senses and hoping against hope that she could pick up something, anything that might give her even the slightest bit of hope.