[That. That was one of the most intense experience Tyki had had since getting here, all of a day ago, admittedly, but it was uncomfortably real. For one, he was starting to question his whole presupposition that this place and its people were some illusion or trick.]
[But of rather more immediate importance was the arousal and disgust he was feeling. He hadn't know it was possible to feel both at once. He hadn't particularly wanted to find that out. Tyki was a hedonist, truly, but there were some things he could not find it in himself to be interested in. Men, at least for sex, were one. What was worse, a part of him, that dark part, Joyd, had no problem with the dream, with the aftermath of taste and sensation in his mouth, he could swear he could still feel the texture...]
[He swallowed reflexively, holding down the urge to vomit, and rose, running fingers through his hair. Indeed, he actually felt violated. Chilled and genuinely disturbed enough that the lingering feelings of arousal and desire soon died down.]
[A cigarette was what he needed, and he still had a few in his pack. He lit one, sucking down the nicotine and letting the smoke burn the ghost feelings from his mouth, sear his lungs. Settle his unease and that faint, sharp-edged desire to kill, to rip someone apart to wash away the dirty feeling in blood. No, he could be civilized. He'd take a cold, cold bath in a nice stream or something. Something refreshing.]
[And then the next order of business was finding the way out of this place before he was subjected to another round of... Of that.]
[But of rather more immediate importance was the arousal and disgust he was feeling. He hadn't know it was possible to feel both at once. He hadn't particularly wanted to find that out. Tyki was a hedonist, truly, but there were some things he could not find it in himself to be interested in. Men, at least for sex, were one. What was worse, a part of him, that dark part, Joyd, had no problem with the dream, with the aftermath of taste and sensation in his mouth, he could swear he could still feel the texture...]
[He swallowed reflexively, holding down the urge to vomit, and rose, running fingers through his hair. Indeed, he actually felt violated. Chilled and genuinely disturbed enough that the lingering feelings of arousal and desire soon died down.]
[A cigarette was what he needed, and he still had a few in his pack. He lit one, sucking down the nicotine and letting the smoke burn the ghost feelings from his mouth, sear his lungs. Settle his unease and that faint, sharp-edged desire to kill, to rip someone apart to wash away the dirty feeling in blood. No, he could be civilized. He'd take a cold, cold bath in a nice stream or something. Something refreshing.]
[And then the next order of business was finding the way out of this place before he was subjected to another round of... Of that.]
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