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Anaxa’s sharp tongue had a tendency to lead him into getting tangled up in arguments, only for it to be his weapon of choice in standing his ground and proving his point. Disputes never escalated beyond his shotgun being raised out of intimidation, unloaded, as a mere threat to silence those who opposed him when his patience wore thin. A few sharp words were enough to get the message across to the average man that their sanity was not worth a dreadful argument with the professor. However, his empty threats held no meaning to Aglaea, who had long since grown immune to his tactics to almost purposefully get under his skin.
As she was armed with her own weapons, it was rather easy for her to counteract the frail scholar’s retaliation. The golden threads draped all through Okhema served far more uses than just for surveillance and combat. They worked quite well to bound an unruly, disagreeable scholar.
Anaxa had no chance of fending off Aglaea in his state. His wrists were bound and pinned down, making a struggle pointless when his body lacked even the most basic of organs for survival. Not to mention, his legs were tangled up in her golden thread as well, bound down to the desk that his wrists were pinned upon.
His only options for retribution were snide remakes and his deathly stare. Neither of which bothered Aglaea, for she was blind to his gaze and could slice his tongue off with a whip of a thread.
Rather than be vexed, she gained some sort of masochistic bliss from his torment. Though she could not see Anaxa for herself as he was struggling, a grin crept across her face as she listened to him grumble from discontent. He bit his tongue and clenched his jaw, knowing that one wrong word could drive her to tighten the binds even further.
Aglaea leaned against the table, fidgeting with a strand of golden thread between her fingers. Thread that she wouldn’t hesitate to use to muzzle Anaxa’s mouth shut.
"Was this really necessary, woman?" Anaxa snarled.
"It’s a more dignified response than raising a weapon at someone’s chin," she said, twirling the thread around with her nails.
"Dignified? You call binding me to the desk dignified?"
"A gracious act of dignity compared to the crass words that come out of your mouth, dear,"
Aglaea sat on the edge of the desk leaning her lower back against Anaxa’s scrawny thigh. He attempted to nudge her off, but Aglaea merely crossed her legs and sat firm, unmoving and mocking. He was too tightly bound to show any meaningful resistance, and so she laughed as she lightly trailed her nails along his thigh further enticing Anaxa’s pointless struggles.
"I could argue that you’re not as enthusiastic to free yourself as you argue,” Aglaea said as she continued to caress his sensitive legs with the tip of her nails.
"There’s a slight problem with my ability to do that, woman."
"Oh? Could that be that you simply cannot bring yourself to put an end to such self-indulgent joy?"
"Joy? I’m not wasting my time arguing with someone who spouts such utter nonsense."
Aglaea tugged at the threads that bound Anaxa’s wrists together, tightening her hold. He clenched his jaw as a precaution against any semblance of noise escaping from his mouth, but his efforts were in vain an ever so slight whimper gave him away. Suddenly, she yanked the thread upwards and held them tight, the string connecting them like a master to their puppet.
She held the threads firm, then asked him, "Is my dear Anaxa telling the truth here?"
Her hand remained deathly still, yet the threads violently vibrated.
"So, this is all a thrill for you," she said, a wicked smile forming on her face.
"...Preposterous. I seek not attention from the likes of you."
The threads tremored once more.
"Oh? You could at least put up a better act if you plan to argue against me."
"There is no ‘act.' Just a hag comprised of worn-out seams," Anaxa said with a snarl.
"That’s not a very nice thing to say to a lady who so generously took the burden of control off of your hands."
"I didn’t ask for you to do that."
"And I can count on people like you to never reach out for help when needed most. Consider this a little bit of stress relief."
"You’re my source of stress-"
Aglaea lifted her leg over Anaxa’s body and slid herself over top of his hips. He was taken aback by this sudden act of hers as his cold, corpse-like body flustered and burned to life. His best efforts to remain silent were for naught, as Aglaea could pick up even the slightest changes in his breathing with her sharp hearing. Anaxa attempted to steady his breathing, but every exhale held such bothersome weight to it. Unfortunately, the sight atop him was quite admirable. Aglaea appeared before him as a true goddess, looking down on him as if he were a peasant bound up for punishment by the divine. He had a feeling that if she could see just how pathetic he looked, she would be quick to toss him to the side and not waste any more of her precious time on him. Though, he had a feeling she was more than aware of the state he was in, given her cocky smile and the firm hold her legs had on him.
It didn’t help that sight and sound aside, Anaxa was making it fairly obvious how he felt about the woman pinning him down.
In every single possible way, his body was betraying him.
"Stress? Is that what you really claim it to be?" Aglaea asked in utter disbelief of his claims.
His insistence of stress was not entirely a falsehood, for tension within his body was high and rising. His clenched jaw and tight muscles were dead giveaways on their own, but Aglaea couldn’t care less for such. The growing feeling of tension between her legs was all she needed to know to discern how Anaxa felt.
Still holding the strings binding his wrists firm in one hand, Aglaea wiggled her nails as if tempting him.
"Stressing that your desires are far from violent, and event further from fulfillable in your state?"
Aglaea reached down and grazed Anaxa’s torso lightly with the tip of her finger. It was just enough pressure for the compromised scholar to feel through his robes, yet light enough to do no more than tickle his skin. She traced down his body, stopping her nail directly atop his crotch. Anaxa winced as his heart rate grew faster and his legs more antsy, much to Aglaea’s pleasure.
"Though if you were most willing," she continued, "I can lend a hand in providing you with some much-needed stress relief."
Aglaea had a strange way of going about things. Rather than making a simple inquiry like a fairly sane person would, she felt the need to tie Anaxa with her golden threads and pin him to the desk. He truthfully expected nothing less from her, though. Not to mention, it wouldn’t be any fun for him without the opportunity to put up a fuss and give her a hard time.
"...Begrudgingly," he scoffed.
"I knew you of all people would be more than happy to accept my offer," she said with a gentle yet ravenous smile, akin to that of a wild beast anticipating on ending the life of its helpless prey.
"What is that supposed to mean, woman?"
"Oh, nothing," she said, nudging her body forward and further tightening her threads.
"...Do you truthfully expect me to assist you in the removal of your garbs when you have me so...tightly bound?"
"Oh dear, I appreciate your kindness, but I cannot allow you even the slightest window to slip away and turn the tide in your favor.”
Though the thought of Anaxa managing to pin Aglaea beneath him hadn’t crossed his mind, it would nevertheless be a rather impossible feat, given the fragility of his body compared to hers. Regardless of his ability to do such a thing, an opportunity would not present itself to him in the near future, as after she undid one sleeve of her dress, she merely passed on the threads that she held firmly to her other hand as she slid off the other sleeve.
If it weren’t for the concept of Titans preceding this very moment, Anaxa would’ve thought that the statues in Amphoreus were sculpted from inspiration from Aglaea’s own body. As foul as her attitude was, she was undeniably beautiful, skin as flawless and fair as ever perfectly accompanying her muscular build. She sat still, seemingly deliberately, so that Anaxa had a brief moment to take in the sight before him before she slid around and rested upon his leg to finish undressing herself.
All Aglaea had on now were the clips in her hair and the strap on her thigh, though seeing how far Aglaea had taken things already had reminded him of a vital concern.
"Woman, aren’t you forgetting something crucial? I would except someone supposedly as quick-witted as you to come armed with some form protection-"
Aglaea leaned in and hastily shushed Anaxa, the tip of her nail brushing against his lips.
"A lady’s secret," she said with a wink.
Unwilling to drag out a debate and further the delay, Anaxa merely sighed and let the topic go.
"Learned how to bite your tongue, I see? You’re doing so good already."
"Get on with it, woman," Anaxa snapped, slowly giving in to her almost uncharacteristic praise.
"Oh? Someone is feeling awfully impatient," Aglaea said, resting her free hand upon his crotch.
Anaxa simply replied with a huff, exhausted of arguments to use against her. Though unwise, he could drag out their back and forth for as long as he pleased, but Aglaea would only use such passage of time to her advantage to push him over the edge before he could even have the chance to feel himself inside of her. Though she couldn’t see the sweat rolling down his face and the redness that spread across his cheeks, Aglaea knew that she had Anaxa wrapped around her fingers, quite literally so.
"I suppose that if you cannot wait, then these robes of yours surely don’t inconvenience you that much."
They did. They truthfully did. Anaxa still donning his scholarly robes meant that he would be deprived of the sweet sensation of her skin against his.
Aglaea simply swiped aside the fabric that was in her way. The mere brushing of her hands was enough to cause Anaxa to squirm in her binds, but he took a deep breath and attempted to anchor himself to the table. Aglaea slipped her fingers into the fly of his dress pants and grabbed ahold of the zipper. She pulled it down with much swiftness and pried his pants apart just enough to not give him the liberty of excess freedom. His legs were tense and frozen still, unable to give Aglaea any further resistance as she helped herself to free his already desperate cock.
All Anaxa could to was closely watch her every move as he was bound too tightly to even guide her advances.
"Well, woman?" he huffed. "You are most certainly doing the exact opposite of helping me right now."
"And here I was thinking that your body was too fragile to move fast, unless what’s left of you is feeling a little daring."
"At this rate, whatever keeps the mess off of my clothes," he said.
Surely, Aglaea would not allow such fine garbs to be tainted just because he couldn’t handle the mere sight of a woman atop him. That would mean she would have to take him quickly, as his thoughts grew impatient, his dick was even more bothered.
"Ah, dear, as much enjoyment I get from holding you in such a sorry state, you do indeed, make a compelling argument."
The fact that she was so willing to agree had Anaxa suspicious. Perhaps she was a little too enthusiastic herself, unable to resist the man constantly at odds with her just begging for sweet release.
Though it was hard for him to pry his gaze away from Aglaea, Anaxa shut his eye tightly and bit his tongue, as he had already shown her enough weakness.
Much to his surprise, Aglaea was...rather slow and gentle with him. He had expected to be at the mercy of her wrath only mere moments in, with his only chance for relief being to scream for as loud as his lungs would allow him to. His body was being filled with such an overwhelming bliss from the sensation of being inside her, but the binds on his wrists and legs kept his eagerness under control, as they were were far more aggressive than the movement of Aglaea’s body. He slowly opened his eye, but he immediately shut it upon gazing at the goddess that had claimed his body as her own.
“D-Dear Aglaea,” Anaxa managed to mutter, “where has your ferocity gone?”
“Ferocity is saved for the Black Tide, darling,” Aglaea said, reaching down to caress Anaxa’s face softly. “Besides, your body is fragile as it is. I couldn’t be the one to bring an end to your quest to spite the Titans now, could I?”
“…Surprisingly considerate of you, woman,” he said, sparing her a half-lidded gaze.
“Oh? Were you hoping that what was left of you would be shattered beneath my touch?”
Aglaea sped up the movement of her hips, catching Anaxa off guard. The breath was knocked out of him and a whimper escaped his mouth, unable to be suppressed despite his petty efforts. Ashamed of himself, Anaxa quickly snapped his jaw shut. All while his face was covered with sweat and desperate bliss, Aglaea passed Anaxa an amused, yet gentle gaze. Was she horribly entertained at how she was able to break him with such ease? Or did she find him quite adorable, in a rather twisted way?
Her nails trailed off of the side of his face, lightly scratching the surface of his skin and only further aggravating the aches in his body. The sensation of her touch lingered, and his wrists were bound too tightly for him to be able to brush the sensation away. With a gentle little laugh, her breath kissing Anaxa’s skin, Aglaea sat herself back up and towered before the dominated scholar before her.
No matter how many times his vision gazed upon her, Aglaea’s beauty never failed to drive Anaxa feral. This woman, who he had endlessly claimed to despise, was impossible to turn a blind eye to in her most natural, beautiful form. Her hair shone like magnificent of gold foil, and the sweat on her body only made her radiant skin glow even more.
For perhaps the briefest of moments, Anaxa truly did believe in the legitimacy of the Titans, as one that he could call his own sat upon him.
Embarrassingly enough, all it took was the sheer sight of her to drive him into such a state. The feeling of her bodily warmth, the movement of her hips against him… he tried his best to resist, but he could feel his resolve faltering. Despite being pinned down harshly to the table, Anaxa’s back arched upwards, attempting to bury himself even further into her. His desperate gesture amused her deeply, and with a soft smile, Aglaea gently caressed down his torso. He could no longer withstand her dastardly teasing accompanied by such a gentle touch, and so his lips parted releasing a soul-shattering moan, a shock coming from such a softspoken professor.
Any final shred of dignity that still remained in him was released into Aglaea, alongside his broken, pleasure-drunk howl. He held his body firm in an attempt to not instinctively thrust off Aglaea, though that would be of no concern as she kept her body pinned firmly to him with her legs.
After Anaxa had been drained of his sanity, his body slumped back onto the desk as he breathed heavily. Though Aglaea was more than willing to subject him to a second round and perhaps even a third, the evident weakness in his body was enough for her to take the hint, and so she granted him the sweet taste of freedom at last. He lifted himself upwards, wearily pushing with his wrists, to get a better glimpse of Aglaea sitting at the edge of the desk looking as beautifully flawless as ever save for the sweat on her body. As he pushed himself up, he had realized that his wrists and legs were free of the golden threads, though he could still feel the lingering effects of being bound as he struggled.
Despite being deprived of energy, the least he could do was reach down and give Aglaea back her dress that she threw aside. Though he still felt taunted by the way she discarded it, it felt disrespectful even for him to leave her sitting around completely nude.
“Here…Lady Aglaea,” he said, handing her back her dress.
“Thank you darling, though you shouldn’t forget about yourself.”
Anaxa looked down as he most certainly forgot and sighed. Hearing the disappointment in his breath, Aglaea helped him straighten up, though even with her assistance, he found himself unable to truly move his body much. She extended out her hand to offer him guidance as he slid off the desk and slumped against her from exhaustion.
“You’re…not always wretched,” Anaxa said, leaning against her shoulder.
“You can be such a dear when you want to be,” she said, reaching up to toy with his hair.
Looking away, Anaxa said, “Shouldn’t you be resting yourself?”
“You’re the one who can barely stand.”
“…Its only proper if I tend to you.”
“Worry not about what’s proper, but rather, what you need. I hope that those papers on your desk were of no importance, that way, you can focus on preserving what’s left of your body.”
“Your kindness sickens me.”
“Still have an attitude after you could barely last a few minutes inside of a lady that you claim to hate?” Aglaea teased.
“…That’s more like the relentless woman that I have regrettably grown so fond of.”