Tag: collar

#Lore24 – Entry #315 – Fantasy Month IV #10 – Nights of Torment

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

My wish that Lady Armenia would see fit to grant me a proper release that night was not to be.  Following our dinner with Commander Asselin, she had indeed brought me to her room, bidding me to strip down to my “armor”.  Hopeful, I eagerly complied, noting the recent addition of several iron rings set into the wooden framing of the room.  It would not take her long to make use of these, for I was soon spreadeagled in the center of the room, my wrist and ankle cuffs secured with ropes to the rings, my eyes covered by a leather mask, and a ball gag harness secured about my head. 

She removed the chastity gear then, though the infernal cage around my cock still remained, leaving my chest free for her to grope, which she most eagerly did, tugging at my nipple rings several times while she teased and squeezed my testes, which felt swollen with my pent-up frustrations, making the cage feel all the tighter.  Once I was even more worked up than I somehow was already, she began something new, moving more to the painful practices her religion is more known for.  She swiftly bound my breasts with rough twine, causing them to swell rather painfully in a matter of minutes, then began adding weight to the nipple rings to add a constant, somewhat painful pressure.  She likewise bound my new anatomy with small leather thongs, stretching the testes rather painfully before she added weights to those as well.

My torment was far from over, for everything that remained continued vibrating, keeping me at consistent edge of climax, my cock dripping constantly.  It was then that she began using a flogger upon me, the sting of the knotted leather thongs making me yelp and struggle against the ropes, causing the hanging weights to swing and bounce, increasing my torment drastically.  Each strike was as if several bees had stung me, the worst of the pain fading quickly to leave my skin tingling and hot, the sensations repeated over most of my body. 

At long last, when Lady Armenia removed the plug in my rear, I had hoped it was finally time for my reward.  I could hear her doing something behind me, then her hands were upon my tingling rear, spreading something cool around my anus.  Then I felt the head of a dildo pressing against it, and within moments it slid inside me.  I moaned quite loudly, and most lewdly, as it stretched me and pushed deeper and deeper.  When I felt the base of the dildo press against my cheeks, felt her hips brush mine, I squirmed eagerly.  Then she pulled backward, then pushed forward, building up to a steady thrusting of her hips as she fucked me with the dildo, her own heated moans joining my own as her claws dug into the flesh of my hips.  The cage around my cock had grown so painfully tight, a constant stream of fluid dripping from it as I continued to hit that wall that separated me from my desired pleasure.  Lady Armenia slowed her pace, giving me a few moments for the fires of lust to die down, then picked up again.

I know not how long she worked the dildo in and out of my ass, but never once did she let me climax.  Nor, notably, did she climax.  Though her cries of pleasure were quite loud, and she worked her thrusts quite forcefully, she never reached climax either.  With a final cry that sounded more frustrated than pleased, she pulled out of me, whispering that I had done well, that Yurisaya was quite pleased with our performance, and that she would free me to rest soon.  In somewhat shocked disbelief, I hung there limply, whimpering and pleading around the ball that filled my mouth for that sweet release that I had so desperately craved. 

It was not to be, for once Lady Armenia had tended to herself, she undid the various objects of torment that had remained attached to me before she replaced the butt plug and then my “armor”, which felt even tighter than ever.  At long last she unbound me, holding me too her for a time, my head against her chest, as I cried in frustration.  Once the weakness had passed, she kissed my forehead, promising that the time would come soon, before she sent me off to bed.

The following three nights were much the same, to my great frustration.  Lots of build-up, hoping against hope that I would be allowed to climax, and finding denial each and every time.  Yet, for whatever reason that she did not divulge to me, Lady Armenia never climaxed either.  I could tell she was just as aroused as I was, perhaps more so, but she never gave in, never allowed herself to succumb to the pleasure. 

Yurisaya’s ways are indeed strange.

The following mornings were perhaps worse in some ways, for not only did I wake from fitful slumber as horny as ever, cursing the chastity gear that I could not remove, I had to deal with Aishi’s smug, knowing grin when we would have breakfast with the commander, her subtle teases, little flicks of her tongue or motions with her hands to intimate carnal acts.  I am loathe to admit it, but I found myself very much considering taking her up on her offer of aid, whatever I would have to do to obtain it. 

Thankfully the Heroes of Vindinium finally returned around noon on the fourth day, and I would have something else to distract myself with.

#Lore24 – Entry #314 – Fantasy Month IV #9 – A Private Encounter with the Stellae Illustris

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

Lady Armenia had decided to rest for the rest of the day and bid me to explore about the fort and village if I wished; she wouldn’t have need of me until that night.  The constant stimulation and edging of the devices I’d been dealing with for days now had my focus severely impeded, so I decided that a walk would not be amiss, though that came with its own challenges thanks to the random nature of the vibrations that came from them. 

I took in the lay of the redoubt first, spoke with a few of the workers who were tasked with restoring the fort to proper form.  From what I’d learned, it was at least a couple centuries since it was last used, and had been remarkably well maintained all things considered, though I saw large sections of the walls that had been recently rebuilt, along with many sections of the inner structures.  New additions had been made, specifically an additional watch tower and the aforementioned gate leading up the road to the fort, with another two planned. 

Then I ventured down into Vindinium to see what facilities were available and learn what I could of the nature of the adventurers who I would be working with, and to get the lay of the town and a feel for its people.  For the most part, those I spoke to seemed rather favorable to the coming of the Imperial garrison, for the area had grown much less stable over the last few years, with raids from the tribal orcs, kobolds, and other non-human races becoming all too frequent.  For a time, trade caravans had come from the elvish lands further to the southwest, but those had mostly stopped now due to the banditry that plagued the road deeper into the Wildlands; there was a whole town, Duskgulch, a few days on that seemed overrun with thieves and criminals of all sorts, they told me, though for now I couldn’t tell if that was just the nature of villagers to be overly proud of their own town or not.

Regardless, there had been several groups of adventurers to have come through in the wake of the Imperial Legion’s reclaiming of the fort, for Commander Asselin had made the call specifically to lure them in with the promise of great wealth should they help them restore order to the area.  A shrewd decision, given the lack of manpower he’d originally been given.  All told, he had perhaps a hundred men, though perhaps only half of those were soldiers, the rest support staff and builders.  The Emperor certainly wasn’t making the task too easy for him.  Some adventurers hadn’t been seen since they had set off weeks ago, their fates unknown for the moment, while others, specifically the “Heroes of Vindinium” as they had been named, seemed well-liked.  They weren’t particularly disruptive, had brought in a few shipments of stolen goods back to the town, and additional wealth taken from a few bandit groups they’d encountered.  Plus they had cleared out some nearby tribals and monstrous creatures that had plagued the village, and had even helped construct the new palisade. 

I sampled some of the local liquor and some pastries while I was in town, not enough to spoil the coming dinner later that night and introduced myself to most of the merchants in town as I perused their wares.  Somehow, I managed to keep from embarrassing myself with a random, useless attempt to grope my breasts or adjust my “manhood”, which I might note, felt extremely confined and very uncomfortable in its unceasing attempts to remain erect, to say nothing of the plug that filled my rear.  I almost wished these devices were of a mundane, unmagical sort so that they would have to be removed regularly.

As evening approached, the shadows growing long, I returned to the fort and to my quarters, a small room near to Lady Armenia’s where my scant few possessions had been placed.  However, before I could enter, I saw Aishi approaching me with the most smug look upon her face, her eyes not glowing quite so brilliantly as they had upon our first meeting.  Though I briefly hoped she was headed elsewhere, she reached my door first and waited for me, bidding me to enter so that we could speak privately.

Already nervous around her, for even though she was a kerryn, she was also in direct service to the Emperor, this very nearly sent me into a panic right there.  Somehow, I maintained my composure, though, and invited her inside.  I let her move past me and closed the door, and the moment I turned to face her, she pushed me up against it, purring in a predatory way, her nose twitching as she took in my scent.  Her gauntleted hands went to my chest, her fingers tapping knowingly against the mythril that kept my anatomy shielded, while one knee came up between my legs and rested directly against my entrapped anatomy.  My piercings and anal plug began to vibrate at that moment, most powerfully, making me squirm even more vigorously in her grasp, hear keen ears no doubt hearing everything.

I won’t repeat everything she said to me here, for it was quite lewd and embarrassing, and hardly accurate to my true nature, though my constant state of arousal and inability to find relief had certainly done little to prove anything to the contrary.  She had known the moment she had first laid eyes upon me that I was quite well entrapped by Lady Armenia, had spotted the arcane signatures of not only my chastity gear, but of the transformation spell she had performed upon me, though she admitted it only took a keep enough nose to pick up on most of that.  I smelled “like a randy whore” she had said at one point. 

Aishi had pressed herself against me then, replacing her knee with a strong hand, while her tongue licked at my cheeks, her lips finding mine.  My brain told me to protest such treatment and resist her, but I did no such thing, and in fact did quite the opposite, leaning into her and eagerly engaging the intimate contact to the limit of my ability, driven so close to a climax by my gear that I felt near completely defeated when they stopped, leaving me on the edge of that precipice.  Aishi seemed to enjoy my desperation as she pulled away.  She told me that she could help with my predicament if I but begged her to do so.  I was too flustered to reply in the moment, but she excused herself, delivering a sharp slap to my ass before she left, telling me to remember her when I had reached the end of my endurance and just had to sate the fire inside me.

For once I found myself hoping that tonight would be the night that Lady Armenia would give me what I so desperately needed, simply so that I would not be driven to even consider Aishi’s offer. 

#Lore24 – Entry #313 – Fantasy Month IV #8 – A Village and a Fort, a Commander and a Shadow

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

I was expecting to be dressed once more into the hobbling dress the following morning, but instead I was allowed back into the riding dress; Lady Armenia said that we would be leaving the Imperial border once we were into the mountains, and even she wouldn’t take a chance on leaving me defenseless through potentially hostile terrain.  In fact, she even returned my scimitar and bookish bulwark, even had me make sure that my new “armor” wasn’t a hindrance after breakfast.  Aside from some rather unwelcome pressure and pinching between my legs for what must be quite obvious reasons now, I was quite capable of going through my practice routines.

Of course, that didn’t stop her from continuing my “training” along the way.  She was assured we would have ample warning in case of an attack, for her drakonae scouts were unrivaled guardians, so she told me.  Travel was slow once we had entered the mountains, the road recently shored up to some extent, but still rough and windy.  So, it was practicing some things that did not involve improving my ability to take large phallic objects into my throat, including more worship of her feet and more endless edging in my case, while practicing various new positions in which I found myself restrained.  I was rather impressed by the number of anchor points hidden away behind the panel work of the carriage, and the variety of restraints Lady Armenia had packed for the journey.

Further oral practice with the dildo would wait until we made camp that evening, in the privacy of her tent.  I was quite a horny mess by then, and would remain so for the foreseeable future, as she seemed to have no intention of allowing me to remove my chastity gear, nor the plug in my rear, the enchantments upon the items seeing to it that my bodily functions were taken care of.  She had promised a surprise if I performed my oral exercise satisfactorily the first night, and indeed, after some time with my lips and tongue working the dildo as she held it between her legs, I experienced a most intense ejaculation of salty, white fluid from the device, nearly choking me and then spraying upon my face.  The flavor was most familiar, being the same mixture that was produced by the feeder gag, though never before had I experienced it in such volume nor in such an embarrassing manner.

I daresay the journey through the mountains was rather mundane compared to the first couple of nights, but with good reason.  We were indeed attacked in the mountains no less than three times, once by a rather large group of bandits who appeared quite desperate, and then again by two separate orc tribes.  In each case, our injuries were relatively minor, and I did not become engaged in the combat, as I was officially on guard duty for the Lady Armenia.  Though having seen the soldiers and drakonae in action, I daresay I would have made a poor final line of defense, not that a priestess such as herself couldn’t defend herself. 

After the long journey through the mountains, we descended into something of a large valley basin, and I could see the fort that was our destination from some distance away, standing high upon a rocky plateau, overlooking a village.  These were the Dawnsummit Redoubt and Vindinium, respectively, the Baydwell River running along out of the mountains near the village.  As we came to the village, I could see that it had recently been enhanced with a stout wooden palisade, complete with a quartet of small, recently built watch towers.  We followed the road through the village, the people there seeming to look upon us favorably as we passed.

Beyond the village, it was a short trip to the road leading up to the overlooking ridge and the redoubt, a series of spiked wooden barricades having been constructed to slow any advancing force, with an additional stone gatehouse currently under construction closer to the top of the plateau.  The roadway led right to the fort’s walls and gatehouse, both of which having been recently repaired to Imperial Legion standards and were even now being further reinforced by a mix of dwarven and drakonae craftsmen.  I counted what seemed a rather small amount of soldiers on patrol and guard about the fort and village, though, a curious detail.  I thought perhaps they had gathered inside the walls of the fort for some reason, but as the carriage passed through into the courtyard and grounds, I saw only a fraction of what I had expected. 

In short order, our large group had come to a stop and Lady Armenia and I left the carriage.  The commander of the soldiers sent to guard her was already barking orders to some of his men to see about reinforcing the current garrison troops, and a notable pair approached us from the direction of the commander’s quarters.  The garrison commander seemed familiar to me, walking with a pronounced limp and making use of a crutch, his left leg obviously having received a wound that had not properly healed.  He was an older human, dark hair graying from his temples, wearing a neatly trimmed beard with his hair cut short, still seeming to be in rather good shape overall aside from the leg.  He wore one of the Legion’s broadswords at his side, garbed in the tunic of a general.  He introduced himself as Lexaundre Asselin, and I certainly remembered the name then, for that name held only slightly less infamy than that of Res’Taringal for which the notable rebellion had been named.  He and his house had spoken in support of the Res’Taringals but had notably not committed any significant resources to the ill-fated operation, which is likely why he was alive now, and almost certainly why he had been sent into the Wildlands with such a small force with orders to tame it.

The second person to join us kept her distance, remaining back about ten feet from us, seemingly not interested in our discussions, though I doubted she was ignoring us.  It was a kerryn, golden hair loose about her shoulders, with red-tinged fur upon her ears and tail, brilliant blue-green eyes that faintly glowed, marking her clearly as a Stellae Illustris, even if the armor and cloak, bearing the red, black, and gold colors of the Emperor, and her collar stamped with the insignia of the order, had not marked her as such.  She was armed with a longer, narrower bladed sword than that of Asselin, which she kept one hand upon, ready to draw at a moment’s notice.  This was Aishi, as Asselin told us, his second shadow.  She offered us a smile then, playful, no, predatory, though she refused to bow as would other kerryn.  I had heard the Stella Illustris were quite proud of their positions, and would only bow to the Emperor himself, perhaps a handful of others, and seeing this behavior, perhaps that was indeed true.  She certainly came off as quite smug, the more I regarded her. 

Once our introductions were complete, Commander Asselin gave us the tour of Dawnsummit Redoubt, highlighting the impressive work they’d managed to complete so far in restoring the fort to its long-lost glory days, some centuries ago, and with such a small force.  Aishi remained behind us, but within a few strides should danger come, though I suspected her reason for being there was rather obvious, to ensure that Asselin did nothing to step out of line, to make sure that his support of the Emperor was genuine.  As I watched her out of the corner of my eye, I got the sense that she was quite dangerous, very much a great hunting cat stalking fresh pray as she tried to get a sense of what Lady Armenia and I were about.

Then we retired to the commander’s offices, where he showed us a map of the large region he had been tasked with civilizing, spread over the top of a table, the map itself a copy of one much older judging by the style of the drawings and relative newness of the parchment, lacking much in the way of details about the region besides major landmarks.  There were new additions however, drawn directly upon the map, showing several significant discoveries made by the adventurers who had come into the area seeking wealth and glory, including a few ruins and ancient ritual sites, lairs and territories of various hostile tribes of orcs, kobolds, gnolls, and even lizardmen in the area, and of course, the ruins that had recently been discovered marking what was thought to be an ancient temple of some sort, bearing draconic iconography.  With permission, I began making notes and copying the map for myself.

The adventurers had been gone for several days now but were expected to return within the week to resupply from their further attempts to secure the area around the ruins, and upon their return, we would have proper introductions, for I would be working closely with them going forward.  In the meantime, Dawnsummit and Vindinium were open to us.  There would be a feast later that night in honor of Lady Armenia, and she would retire to the quarters that had been prepared for her (and I, for now).  I would remain here, making my notes and studying the notes left by the adventurers, as well as the handful of artifacts they had recovered from the site.  I felt the eyes of Aishi lingering upon me for a few moments more as the others left, and I sensed that I would be having my own encounter with her before long.  There was something about her that made me nervous.

#Lore24 – Entry #312 – Fantasy Month IV #7 – Night at the Wayrest

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

Though I felt great embarrassment at my bound, magically altered, and partially revealed state, none of the soldiers nor the drakonae seemed to think it odd in the slightest, which formed many questions in my mind that unfortunately I could not immediately ask thanks to the very filling penile gag.  I felt the distinct shift in the air the moment we crossed onto the land surrounding the Wayrest that evening, the sun already beginning to form long shadows on the land.  Once we had come to a stop before the inn, Lady Armenia was quick to make her exit, seemingly possessed of a great deal of pent-up energy.  This of course left me alone in the carriage, but it was not long before her drakonae came inside and unbound me from the bench, then packed me carefully to the ground outside.  One of them snatched the dangling leash and guided me toward the inn’s entrance, turning to glance at me with annoyance several times at the slowness of my pace, even tugged the leash more forcefully as if that would spur me to move quicker. 

I offer no apologies; I had been sitting for most of the day and was quite stiff, even without the ridiculously restrictive attire I had been forced to wear for Lady Armenia’s amusement.  I suppose only the enchantments upon the outfit had kept my limbs from going at all numb and from being terribly sore.  The gawking of the farmhands, likely the children of the inn’s owner, sent a fresh flush of embarrassment through me, no doubt having never seen something like me in their lives. 

At least the atmosphere on my awkward walk toward the inn was mostly pleasant otherwise, the inn and associated farm nestled amongst rolling hills and lightly packed forest, with a rocky stream coming in from the higher mountains further to the southwest that would prove our biggest challenge on the next leg of our journey.  The evening air was cool but pleasant on my exposed flesh, which made my mercilessly teased nipples remain quite erect.  My enjoyment of the scene was short lived, however, for I was brought inside as quickly as I could manage with my tiptoed steps.

Though the banter I heard between lady Armenia and the proprietor was rather jovial, when I came in, the plump human woman, streaks of gray in her hair, turned a disapproving scowl at me, her eyes immediately dropping to my newly formed and caged genitalia.  She shook her head, shooting a look at Lady Armenia, asking if I’d be attending dinner in such an indecent state.  With assurances that I would be properly presentable, Lady Armenia motioned the drakonae toward the stairs, much to my displeasure.  I overhead more consternation from the witch about what damage my appearance could possibly have done to the “young and innocent minds” of her sons, but lost track of the rest of that conversation when it came time to navigate the stairs.  I had hardly mastered this most awkward technique, and the drakonae holding my leash was not as forgiving as Lady Armenia, tugging at it insistently while moving behind me to swat my behind with his bare hand when I failed to move fast enough.

I had earned nearly a dozen such swats by the time we topped the stairs, the flesh of my exposed behind reddened and stinging, for his strikes had grown more forceful the higher we went, and perhaps most annoyingly, my caged and restricted erection was straining against its prison most painfully now, my excitement having been rekindled by my treatment.  I hesitate to mention it, but I seem to be developing a fetish for being humiliated, yet I cannot deny what I have experienced, as much as I may wish to.

Topping the stairs, it was immediately apparent which room was Lady Armenia’s, for two of the drakonae stood guard on the door at the end of the hall, and it was this door I was ushered toward.  Once inside, though the room was undoubtedly the largest of the ones inside the inn, it seemed much smaller and less fine than befitting of someone of Lady Armenia’s stature.  I was taken to the bed and told to sit, which I did most gratefully, and waited with my leash tied to the bedpost, flexing my feet and listening to the sounds of the fine leather creaking over my body as I shifted about in the quiet.  I noted that Lady Armenia’s chests had already been brought up.

It was perhaps another thirty minutes before Lady Armenia came to the room, bringing with her the scent of cooking meat and fresh bread.  She sat beside me and fondled my breasts for a time, teasing my tormented cock with her tail, not saying a word at first.  Then, once she had had her fill, she stood and brought me to my feet, announcing that it was time to make me presentable for dinner with Melanis, the Witch of the Ways who owned the inn.  My accusatory look at the one responsible for my poor impression only garnered a smile and a look that could have passed for pure innocence had I not known better of Lady Armenia’s nature.  Perhaps it was for that reason she left my gag for last when my restrictive attire was finally removed, the cool air upon my sweaty skin quite refreshing.  I was allowed to wash up and fix my hair, though Lady Armenia insisted that I wear it up in a pair of tails instead of my usual braid, much to my annoyance.

As I would soon learn, my annoyance was only just beginning; this would become a common theme with Lady Armenia.  While I had cleaned up, she had already picked out my eveningwear, and when I turned from the mirror to see it laid out upon the bed, I gulped and shrank away.  She looked every bit the grinning devil her heritage would indicate as she watched my reaction.  “A warrior mage such as yourself needs armor, yes?  If I am not mistaken, you favor a highly mobile style, dancing about your enemies?  Don’t worry, this is quite light weight, I assure you; it’s made of the same mythril as your cage, after all, and enchanted to ensure that you are protected.  I promise it won’t stay on…forever.  This should ensure our hostess that you have no intentions whatsoever on her sons.  Don’t dawdle, my dear, Melanis won’t be pleased if we are late for dinner.”

A finely crafted set of full chastity gear lay before me upon the bed, my arcane sight revealing that it was indeed strongly enchanted, but with more than simple protection.  I had witnessed several Yurisayan priests and priestesses wearing such things, not uncommon in their order, but never thought I’d be wearing one.  All of the pieces were lined in leather and inscribed with intricate patterns of thorny vines, mixed with arcane runes, and the belt was curiously crafted with male anatomy in mind; how long had she been planning this, or did her order have such things ready and waiting? 

“Oh, there is another item before we get you dressed, a little preparation for what comes later on, and something to keep you entertained.”  She beckoned me toward her with one clawed finger.  Sighing, I approached and followed her lead when she bent me over before the bed.  She caressed my backside for a moment, told me to spread my legs and relax.  I had my suspicions of what she had in mind, recalling some of my more debaucherous nights during my tenure as Alekos’s tutor, and breathed out slowly.  Sure enough, I felt the rounded head of the butt plug pressing against my anus, felt the cool lubricant spread from the enchanted device, and allowed her to push it inside me, wincing momentarily as the widened base, feeling quite huge, pushed inside me.  She tapped the base of the plug, and I felt it grow ever-so-slightly larger, grunting as it did.  Worse, I felt it vibrate, slowly, then strongly, for only a few seconds, then stop. 

My “armor” went on next, beginning with the chastity belt portion first of course.  The enchanted mythril resized to a perfect, snug fit, the larger, bulging cover for my cock reshaping itself perfectly around the cage as it was latched and magically sealed around my waist.  The chest piece came next, the formed cups fitting tightly around my breasts, seeming to grab hold of my nipple piercings in some way on the inside that ensured I would feel them with every move I made, a pair of delicate but strong mythril chains going over my shoulders, crossing behind my back for additional support.  Pairs of cuffs went around my biceps and wrists next, followed by thicker bands around my thighs, which were joined to the waist belt via more chains, magically connecting together once they were in place to ensure I couldn’t spread my legs very wide at all.  The final pieces, a pair of ankle cuffs, were soon in place as well, leaving my whole body glowing with shame, my mind already furiously coming up with ways in which the attire could be used to torment me.

I could already feel my discomfort and arousal growing as I shifted and tested my movement; though the weight of the gear was barely noticeable, the way the items hugged my body and applied pressure in the worst places most certainly was.  Somehow, the cage around my cock felt even more constricted now, and I was already dripping.  My nipples were aching, constantly rubbing against the inside of the mythril cups in an unrelenting tease.  Lady Armenia watched my squirming about with great amusement for a time, but brought us back to the moment, handing me a pair of thigh-length leggings and leather riding boots, which were more easily donned than I had suspected given the helpful nature of the enchantments upon my new “armor”, which more or less magically applied the garments once I had started putting them on, nestling them beneath the cuffs.  Atop all of my gear went a more sensible riding dress in shades of brown and green, its long sleeves covering my arms completely, the skirt hanging to my ankles, leaving only my collar visible.  Indeed, it should more than adequately satisfy the apparent “decency” requirement from the mistress of the house.

Properly attired now, my face no doubt revealing my embarrassment, though thankfully the mythril was light enough that I could barely hear the chains and chastity gear clinking beneath the dress, we ventured downstairs.  It only took a few moments before the new plug in my rear began to vibrate, setting off both my nipple rings and cock cage, making my steps falter, and I would come to learn that this would be a constant, unrelenting force, activating randomly, and with random levels of intensity, throughout dinner and beyond. 

Melanis still seemed to wear a look of disapproval when she looked at me, but at least she wasn’t particularly cold to me otherwise.  The common room was filled with Lady Armenia’s entourage and a mix of the soldiers, some having remained on guard duty for now in spite of the safety offered by the inn, as well as the drakonae as well as the owner’s family, those who had saw me earlier seeming quite disappointed that I had covered myself so thoroughly.  Had it not been for all the awkward squirming and frequent distractions from the vibrating devices upon me that caused me to stutter or lose my train of thought, no doubt painting me as something of a dullard, dinner was mostly pleasant and, dare I say, normal. 

Lady Armenia would see to it that came to an end once we had retired for the evening, though.  I was stripped to my “armor” soon after we had returned to the room, leaving only my stockings in place beneath my mythril gear, and she somehow commanded the piercings, cock cage, and butt plug to activate at a most intense setting.  She announced it was time for additional training, and soon produced a sizeable dildo, shaped to appear as a most convincing, larger than average penis.  She spread her robes as she sat upon the bed, revealing her admittedly impressive thighs, holding the phallus between her legs, and then commanded me to show her what I knew about pleasing men. 

I was somewhat ashamed to admit that I knew more having learned some things from Ryona using similar methods.  I did as instructed, though, using my mouth and tongue upon the device as my various vibrating devices kept me squirming and on edge.  Her hand soon went to the back of my head, forcing the dildo deeper.  This I hadn’t practiced much, so she made sure to move slowly from here, just a fraction deeper each thrust, stopping when I gagged or she sensed me tensing, promising all the while that I would be quite proficient at such things before I left her service.

Certainly not something to be particularly proud of, but I didn’t exactly protest her instructions, did I? 

Once Lady Armenia was satisfied that I had learned enough for the evening, she had me rise before she magically cleaned the dildo with a quick spell of cleaning, then replaced it amongst her things.  She blindfolded me then, and replaced the feeder gag harness atop it, the penis inside feeling larger than before as she tightened the straps.  I was guided to one side of the large bed, my ankle and wrist cuffs lashed to the footboard and headboard respectively, leaving me stretched out in only mild discomfort.  Bidding me to rest while I could, saying that she must pray and perform her nightly rituals, she tugged the deprivation hood over my head again, leaving me oblivious to the world beyond.  Only when she finally slipped into the bed beside me, cuddling up to me and wrapping her tail around my thigh did the vibrations cease, finally allowing me to sleep, though it would be some time yet before I settled down enough to do so.

#Lore24 – Entry #311 – Fantasy Month IV #6 – The Journey to the Wildlands

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

I heard Lady Armenia rise early the next morning, for I was already awake, still squirming helplessly and uselessly attempting to sate the very intense and unrelenting desire within myself and my new member.  To put it quite bluntly, I was a sweating, quivering, moaning mess that morning, having had almost no sleep, my uselessly balled hands having spent much of the night in their vain quest to stimulate my caged penis into achieving some kind of release as it swelled and strained against the unrelenting mythril cage that held it entrapped.  The stiffness and tightness of my attire had done less than nothing to induce any feelings of relaxation as well, leaving me quite discomforted by morning.

I was left to stew for some time yet, until Lady Armenia had gotten herself dressed and prepared for the journey with the aid of one of her attendants, who, I am quite sure, was not subject to the same magical transformation as me, nor was she forced to wear such strict attire, just the common servants clothes.  Soon enough, however dazed I was, I was assisted to rise, and Lady Armenia once again took hold of my leash to lead me along, once my hands were properly restrained behind my back of course.  It was to the courtyard she led me, where her team of drakonae waited, each carrying backpacks fit for a long journey, and armed with recurve bows and short swords and hunting knives. 

Lady Armenia told me that the rest of her entourage awaited us in Scarbantia, and for a moment I was absolutely mollified, for it would take us at least two weeks of travel to reach the distant city by carriage, and perhaps another week or more to reach the edge of the Empire, depending on the exact region she intended to visit.  With my lack of sleep and constant horny distraction having addled my senses, I had failed to observe the presence of a teleportation circle, which I only noticed when the marker stones were activated and began glowing, filling the area with their magic aura. 

Indeed, once the party had appeared on the corresponding circle in Scarbantia, still in that most dark period before dawn this far west, I saw no less than three wagons and a carriage that would only have been Lady Armenia’s, as well as several mounted Imperial soldiers, at least two dozen from my count.  She immediately led me toward the waiting carriage, and with some help from her drakonae, I was loaded inside like so much baggage and maneuvered onto one of the bench seats, and then we were off at a brisk pace once Lady Armenia had settled herself.  Being the wife of General Komides, I suppose I should have suspected such a force to protect her.

Our journey would take us southwest, she told me, and we would visit the last Wayrest tonight before starting down the Malarshaw Road to the region that held the curious ruin she was so interested in, a trip that, with the numbers in our party, would take approximately eight days, not accounting for bad weather or other delays.  The look upon her face when she told me that we would be getting to know one another quite intimately during this period was absolutely devilish, and not merely because of her red skin, upward curving horns, and sharp teeth. 

As the formation settled into a proper travelling pace, Lady Armenia settled herself upon the bench next to me, easing me over to lean against her, and wrapped one arm around me, her hands once again exploring and teasing my breasts, giving special attention to my new rings, tugging and flipping them idly as we continued on.  Her tail, quite serpentine in its behavior, snaked around my waist and wrapped itself around the infernal cage and my quite sensitive new anatomy, the sharp tip poking through the mythril prison just hard enough to make me jump each time, while the wrapped tail squeezed and massaged.  Her lips found my ear, as did her tongue, and her teeth, for she nibbled and teased occasionally, all the while I whimpered, moaned, and pleaded through the phallic feeder gag for some kind of release.

Some time later, as the sun began to rise, Lady Armenia granted me a great mercy, finally bringing her teasing to an end, at least for the time being.  She continued to hold me close, her hands massaging soreness from my body as they explored it, and she told me to be at ease, to find peace in her embrace, and to rest.  I sensed her working the charm, but did not resist as the sleeping enchantment overtook me, falling into a deep and blissful slumber, in spite of the decidedly erotic dreams I would have.

I would not awaken until after noon that day, feeling refreshed if not any freer than I had been.  In fact, I was more restrained, having been secured into the seat by no less than six stout leather straps that I hadn’t realized were there.  As I stirred, Lady Armenia looked hungrily upon me from the opposite side of the carriage, making me squirm.  Though she was of high rank in society, she still wore the attire of a priestess, though in silks rather than more common materials, and her accessories were of gold and silver.  I squirmed, straining against the straps to no avail, as I tried to put distance between us.

She laughed then, a surprise to be sure, and returned to my side of the carriage, this time straddling my restrained form, pressing her knees against my hips and resting upon my legs.  She removed my gag before she started playing with my breasts again, hooking the claws of her thumbs into the nipple rings to tug or twist.  We spoke for some time as we continued along the road, mostly with her asking me questions about my time at the Library, and then focusing more upon my experiences with the lewd and erotic when my responses proved to be rather mundane.  She seemed rather pleased that I was so inexperienced in so much that she promised to show me in excruciating detail once we were safely to our destination, and some on the road beforehand.  Of our night at the Wayrest she seemed to be most excited, however she kept those details hidden at the time.

Perhaps it was the lingering, unending arousal I had experienced since my “recruitment” into her service that clouded my usually reasonable mind, or perhaps her mazoku nature had done so…or perhaps my inquisitive nature had evolved in the months I had spent tutoring her son and experiencing a rather abundant amount of pleasures at the hands of his kerryn slave Ryona, some at his behest, others all of her own devising.  Regardless of the cause, I found myself excited for these experiences, even though I had little choice in the matter.  Though…I had the sense that if I had been unwilling to participate in any of her games, Lady Armenia would not have forced me into anything I truly did not wish to participate in. 

She ended our question-and-answer time before I could ask her anything in return (I am beginning to think my Lady Armenia might just be a little unfair in her dealings…), deigning it time for my mouth to practice at something else that didn’t involve speech.  I was released from the bench and guided to the floor of the carriage, and this time, with her holding the leash, I was first to busy my tongue in cleaning her fine leather boots.  Fortunately for me, she had yet to exit the carriage on this day, so the leather was quite pristine, though certainly not my preferred flavor, even though it may have been Lady Armenia’s.  Following this, I had to undo the laces with my teeth before she removed her boots, thus allowing me to partake of her rather aromatic and sweaty, stocking-clad feet.  Translated, she held her feet before me and pulled my leash between them, forcing my face into them, where I was “allowed” to breathe of her essence for a time, before my tongue was once again “allowed” to explore them.

Throughout this worshipful ordeal, my nipple rings were constantly abuzz, as was the ring at the base of the cage surrounding my dribbling cock, which strained quite uncomfortably inside that unforgiving device.  I had sought to inquire with Lady Armenia about what I should do with the constantly leaking nature of my restricted asset, but she seemed not the least bit concerned by it, for her foot was soon teasing it again, only this time, after she had finally used both feet upon it, squeezing and teasing the swollen testes between her soles, she bade me clean them off.  I suppose that’s another entry on the list of things I had not expected to experience this week…

She seemed quite eager for more, but insisted she was restraining herself, saving herself, really, for tonight once we reached the Wayrest.  She replaced her boots upon her feet and decided that she too would nap, once more securing me to my place on the bench and replacing my feeder gag before she lay back on the other side of the carriage, but not before she gave me a long kiss upon my gag-covered lips.  She seemed rather restless for a time, her hands finding their way to her own breasts and between her legs, only for her to jerk them away suddenly, though she finally settled down into sleep.  A curious observation, though one that would make sense later…mostly.

At least the windows were open, allowing me to see the passing countryside as we rode onward.  It would have been a dreadfully boring time otherwise; thankfully the Wayrest was only another couple of hours away.

#Lore24 – Entry #310 – Fantasy Month IV #5 – To Serve Lady Armenia

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

Though I was left hanging in the dungeon for some time, I would find little in the way of respite from Lady Armenia’s machinations.  The new devices and…anatomy…which she had equipped me with proved to be every bit as capable of keeping me in a lustful daze as the lady herself.  And yes, I must now refer to her as “Lady Armenia” during my entries, for she insists upon me calling her that in person and says I should do so in my writings as well to continue to show her proper respects. 

Once I was finally released from my bondage and allowed to bathe, I found little relief.  I of course probed my caged cock…I doubt I shall ever find writing that to be anything close to normal…finding its continued sensitivity to be maddening, only compounded by the tightness of the cage it was now confined within, sealed by magic that I dare not attempt to break, as it is a surprisingly strong enchantment with layers of magic that I could not identify that was likely of a very punishing nature.  It seems that every minor touch to my cock sends a shiver through me; I can only begin to wonder if all men must deal with such issues, or if it is the magic or simply the newness of mine that makes it so difficult to deal with.  I am not entirely sure how the transformation magic works, either, as it is beyond my ability to replicate, my female genitalia completely replaced by this new organ, though my breasts remain intact…if perhaps somewhat larger now, and perhaps more sensitive as well.  I am assured by Lady Armenia that all will be returned to normal upon the completion of my service with her, “should I desire it to be so.”

I am still uncertain as to my feelings on this situation.  I am certainly angry, though I likewise find certain fascination with it all.  My initial outrage and shock have faded, though Lady Armenia still finds ways to rile me up each and every day.  She has a particular knack for such things, I believe, and relishes in my discomfort. 

This is evident given her choice of my attire, for when I am with her, she is to choose what I wear.  I surmise that the nature of the contract between her and Mother is rather fluid and vague to allow such things, though Lady Armenia insists I not fret over the “frivolous details”.  It seems my hopes that I would never again wear the restrictive dress Alekos had tailored for me were in vain, for it was this very costume which Lady Armenia had chosen for me to wear, with a few minor alterations to better suit her.

The ridiculously high heeled shoes that I had originally worn with the dress were replaced in favor of even more ridiculous footwear, specifically a pair of knee-length boots which had even taller heels, these forcing my feet downward to the point that I would be walking on my toes.  It seemed Lady Armenia was quite aware of my superior agility and balance, though I would not personally have insisted upon such footwear to test my grace.  The small arcane locks on the straps at the ankles and knees to ensure I kept them on were also quite troubling. 

The tight, black leather of the dress, of a hobbling design with a high neck that was the current fashion, already quite tight as it had originally been tailored, was made even more restrictive via an enchantment that had swiftly been added to it that would resize it absolutely perfectly to my curves, making it something of a second skin.  I would also notice that two sections of the leather had been removed, namely the area that covered my breasts, and those covering my pelvic area, leaving me little in the way of decency.

Once I had managed to fit the dress upon myself, it hugged me quite tightly, leaving my breasts and pierced nipples clearly exposed, as was my ass and my new, caged anatomy.  I would find my steps limited to barely a few inches between the dress and the boots, though this would only grow somehow more restrictive when Lady Armenia insisted upon adding the stout leather corsets, these in a deep red shade, one wrapping my torso from hips to just below my breasts, the other about my neck, to be worn beneath my collar.  Already at my limits, this would prove quite the challenge to overcome, especially once the gloves were added.  These bicep-length leather gloves had been altered as well, fit with a pair of red leather cuffs at wrist and bicep, as well as having the fingers altered so that my hands were forced into fists, ensuring their uselessness. 

Making use of the cuffs to secure my arms behind my back, Lady Armenia would insist that I learn to walk properly now that I could only stand mostly straight as an arrow, further enforced by the rigid corsets, tight dress, and tall boots.  She seemed to take great delight in my suffering as, after attaching a leash to my collar, she guided me through a multitude of exercises to ensure that I would be able to walk with “the utmost grace and poise”, making liberal use of a riding crop when I faltered or did not respond to her instructions quickly enough.  The vibrations of the nipple rings, and to my horror, the cage around my cock, kept me in a constant state of distracted arousal, making my ordeal that much more difficult.  The sting of the crop against my backside and even my new anatomy made me stumble even more than the infraction that had prompted the correction, thus prompting another correction.

I would learn later the boots had been enchanted as well, making it exceptionally difficult for me to actually fall while wearing them, but I did not know that at the time, and suffered greatly because of it, though Lady Armenia certainly enjoyed my predicament.  Once our first session had ended, she guided me to her chambers in what I assumed was a private estate that she owned, her perhaps was owned by the church itself, taking a very long and very painful and quite embarrassing tour of the grounds, which included its own chapel and gardens.  There were plenty of people around, other members of the church, mostly, but some outsiders like gardeners and other visiting nobility, all of which seemed to stare at me in ways that ranged from amused, amazed, lustful, envious, shameful, and disapproving, and likely more. 

Navigating the stairs in the residence proved quite difficult, though not impossible.  I simply had to learn to hop high enough, and Lady Armenia’s crop certainly helped with motivating me to succeed on my first attempts.

I noted that it was nearly sunset by this time we came to her chambers, in which I would, in spite of my growing weariness and great soreness born of the crop, be introduced to additional services I would be required to perform for her.  With my arms released from behind my back, and the gloves magically changing from balling my fists to regular gloves, I would show her some of what I had learned from Ryona during my time with her, specifically foot massage, both with hands and tongue.  Kneeling upon the floor was a trying experience, and I only accomplished it with Lady Armenia’s aid; thankfully she did not expect me to do it on my own, anyway.

Lady Armenia’s mazoku nature only increased my intense arousal as I removed her boots, her scent and the somewhat spicy taste of her sweaty feet upon my tongue were very nearly electric, making my whole body tingle with excitement to be this close to her, and the pleasure-filled moans she made only served to heighten my need to please her, so fully enthralled by her presence was I. 

Since I could only tend one foot at a time, her other foot was constantly working to tease my caged cock, rubbing at the cage with her toes or pressing down teasingly upon my balls, causing a mixture of pain and pleasure that had me squirming with a most delightful agony.  All the while, my face burned with shame and embarrassment, though my aroused state barely changed, my nipples hard and erect, my new cock straining against the tiny cage that held it, constantly dripping as I shifted and squirmed in vain to find some kind of relief.  Perhaps it had been my desire to stay in Draconis Magna for a time that had started me down this perverse road to begin with, my body and mind now hopelessly corrupted by the pleasures of the flesh I would never have known had I stayed at the Great Library.

Lady Armenia insists that I am being overly dramatic with that last line, for she is reading over my shoulder as I write this, though has made no efforts to correct or alter what it is I write here, has even stated I have something of a talent for description of my predicament that she finds quite enjoyable. 

Once her feet had been properly pleasured and her passionate flames greatly kindled, Lady Armenia had expressed a desire to continue further, though had decided to deny her own gratification for now so that she would find even higher pleasures in the very near future.  “It is a long journey we embark upon tomorrow, after all; there will be plenty of time to educate you on the way.”  With that, my gloves were once again shifted back to the mittens that would make my hands useless, and this time  my wrists were secured in front of me as I was led to my bed, that of a maidservant in the smaller room adjacent to her chambers.  She helped me into the bed, securing my leash to a nearby ring set into the wall, and then fit me with a rather large, phallic gag harness, telling me to enjoy my rest. 

Thankfully it was a feeder gag, for I was rather famished, and I found myself greedily sucking on the warm, salty mixture that came from it, heedless of the perceived lewdness of the act.  Considering what had just befallen me, and the fact hat my hands were constantly pawing at my caged cock as I lay squirming on the bed with only the sounds of the leather creaking and my own panting moans to lull me into what could have been generously described as a “fitful slumber”, I would barely consider suckling on the penile gag that great of a perversity. 

There would be more than ample opportunity to experience even greater perversities in the very near future, as I would find out soon enough.

#Lore24 – Entry #309 – Fantasy Month IV #4 – A Lopsided Bargain

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

As I hung helplessly in the grasp of Lady Armenia, she continued to relentlessly tease my body in a way I had never experienced.  Certainly, Alekos and Ryona had teased me during our rather erotic trysts between his classes, but not like this.  The combination of her mazoku nature and her training as a Yurisayan priestess were, for lack of a better term, maddening.  She knew exactly how and where to touch me to work my body into a mess of heated lust, and exactly how to keep it right there, on the very edge of attaining the pleasures I had soon sought and thought I had lost all cravings for after I had left as Alekos’s tutor. 

I cannot know how long exactly she kept me on edge, but it could have been hours.  She practically turned my mind to jelly during the time, had even seemed to twist my body’s perception of the pain she caused by the pinches and scrapings of her claws into pleasure.  She said little during this time, at least that I can recall, only making a few comments on the pleasureful sounds and physical responses I made in response to her touch which left me feeling great shame at my lack of control.

Once I had been properly edged for this small eternity, had become even hotter and sweatier than I had in the trunk as I hung helplessly in my bindings, she finally began to tell me of the reason she had intercepted me on my way back to the Great Library.  She did perceive some slight from my leaving my tutorship early and felt that I had somehow gone against the bargain originally arranged between the Library and her.  I tried to protest this, but of course, she had yet to remove the gag, so my complaints were quite ineffectual.  She had taken it upon herself, then, to see that the full terms of my service were to be handled in a different way:  I would serve as her historical and archaeological expert on an upcoming expedition to the south-western Wildlands, to help her and her people to study some ruins that were found there, as well as several artifacts that were found within them by an adventuring party who were working to civilize the area.

She said that she had already sent word to Mother regarding this and received a positive response (though I have yet to see such correspondence), and had come to a tentative agreement for an extension of the term should my work prove satisfactory.  And, of course, there would be additional requirements that she would have of me, given how she seemed to think that I had offended her and somehow impugned the honor of her son and her family name.  I personally feel that she was being most overdramatic in this assertion and had blown it up into something much more than it was, but who am I to argue with someone of her station and power?  Who save perhaps the Emperor himself and a handful of nobles would challenge someone of her station?  And over a lowly librarian such as myself? 

I was in quite the mess, to put it mildly, and certainly, I feel, not of my own making. 

But that would not be all, for Armenia then declared that she would continue my own ‘education’ to assist me in future endeavors, to help me learn from my failures (in her mind, I contest) to understand her “dear son’s unique predicament,” as well as expand my knowledge of Yurisaya’s ways.  By this time, somewhere in my pleasure-addled brain, I’m certain that I protested this, though I can’t recall if I actually tried to form words to such effect or simply made lustful noises and wiggled in her grasp.  It has all become something of a blur in my memory, a deficiency of my own mind that I must try to correct.

She finally stopped teasing me for a few moments then, but only so that she could bring over what I would be wearing for the foreseeable future as her “assistant”; I would learn that such a term, when used by a Yurisayan priestesses, or at least, by her, was possessed of much more responsibility than those which were simply academic.  She enacted a magical ritual upon me, tracing a magical rune upon my body with her claw and some mixture she dipped her claw into, forming a magical tattoo just over my pubic mound.  This, she said, would help me to better understand her son’s difficulties in dealing with his own lustful nature.

As I couldn’t see the rune she had inscribed upon me, not that I was able to think overly clearly at the time anyway, I was somewhat worried when I felt the magic take hold, felt my body beginning to transform itself.  I recall moaning into the ball between my lips as the strange sensation of pleasure and arcane energies coursed through me.  I am not sure how long it took to finish, but once it was done, I recalled feeling an unusual weight now resting between my legs, of an unusual throbbing sensation.  I was dumbfounded when I looked down to see a sizeable penis and testes hanging there, standing quite erect, my brain simply unable to process it in the moment.

Armenia then began to stroke my new appendage, filling my body with sensations I had never experienced before.  And yet, like she had done with my natural anatomy, she quickly had me squirming and moaning, on the edge of a climax I would never experience.  I could feel myself dripping, could feel her touch so keenly through this new, sensitive part of my anatomy. 

She further added to my plight by slowly and most erotically piercing my nipples, a mix of pleasure and pain that only added to that which I experienced from my…cock.  Here she attached a pair of stout golden rings, U-shaped, and set with faintly glowing rubies at the bottom of the U.  These, I would shortly discover, would vibrate through some control device she possessed, and would serve to keep me constantly on edge.  She placed a collar about my neck as well, heavy and golden, set with a similar ruby at the neck, which sealed with a click that sounded quite ominous in my ears.  Though this looked more like a richly designed necklace, it was no doubt a collar.

With these accessories done, she teased my new member some more, driving my pleasure-haze right back to that edge, but then announced there was but one more item to complete my ensemble.  Not knowing what it could have been, nor thinking at all clearly at the time, I dazedly watched as she secured a thick, silver ring around the base of my cock and balls, then proceeded to guide a matching silver cage around it, pressing it downward, forcing my erection painfully into the confines of the cage.  With a growing sense of erotically-charged horror, I watched helplessly as the cage met the ring, the metals fusing together and growing tighter around my new anatomy. 

Armenia then squeezed my testes, flicking the cage, sending an agonizing pleasure through my tightly trapped appendage, then patted my cheek, announcing that she had finished.  I would be allowed to “enjoy” my new predicament for a while longer, and then I would be freed of my bonds so that I may clean myself up and don some “appropriate attire”, then rest before we were to set out on our journey on the morrow. 

It would prove to be an arduous and long journey, as I will detail in my next entries, though I would learn much of which I had never intended to learn along the way.

#Lore24 – Entry #128 – Muckenmyre Month #7 – Proper Punishments in Grimbridge

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris.

My condition continued to improve as the next few days passed, my body returning to proper form through frequent exercise and excellent food, thanks to Satella.  I assisted with all the chores I could of course, still feeling that I must at least do something in return for all the care she and Mayor Pleasence had given me.  I saw little of him during these days, as he was busy with handling both town matters and his own business, the town general store, but he continued to insist that our presence in his home was no trouble, that he was in fact grateful to come home to a warm meal for the first time since the passing of his wife several years prior.  It was during these days that Satella had given me this journal, encouraging me to record my thoughts since my arrival in Grimbridge. 

I’ve also cleaned and oiled my collar and cuffs, damaged though they are, for they are the last vestiges of my life in the Empire, and I must continue to honor my Emperor as best I can until I can return.  I still feel ill at ease without them, naked in spite of any clothing I may wear, still have moments where I realize that they’re missing and find my hands groping for them.  Yet…even though it’s barely been two weeks since I awoke here, I have noticed that these moments are coming less and less frequently. I am concerned by this…I should be collared, whether or not I bear the markings of a slave trainer or the Stellae Illustris, yet there are indeed no other slaves in Grimbridge, and the very concept of such a thing is nigh unfathomable here.  The town smith has not a single collar in his inventory, and the only proper restraints are housed within the town jail.

I requested that Satella assist in my punishment for neglecting the care of my gear for so long, for she could inflict the required pain much more efficiently than I could myself.  She eagerly agreed, and I quickly disrobed and lowered myself to my knees before her, offering her my crossed wrists for binding.  Her smile became cruel, the kind of look I expected to see, and I prepared myself for the pain that was to come.

She took each wrist in turn, slapping them lightly with two fingers, barely even hard enough for me to feel them, let alone cause any of the pain I required for my transgressions.  She then declared my punishment finished, hoped that I had learned my lesson, and bid me to put my clothes back on, her usual cheerful smile back upon her face.

Her response left me speechless, too stunned to redress myself for several minutes, and for a time, I thought perhaps she was making fun of me.  It would be her right, of course, but I would later understand that she simply didn’t see my lack of proper slave gear as a punishable offense.  I still struggle to understand that the Empire’s ways are not the ways of this land, and I am not expected to adhere to them.  I remained in my room much of the rest of that day, holding my broken collar, weighing the thoughts that now filled my mind, thoughts unbecoming of a slave, especially one in my position with my responsibilities. 

At dinner, when I inquired with Mayor Pleasence (though he insists I call him by his first name, as he is an authority in this town, I cannot bring myself to do so, for it wouldn’t be proper) about his stance on punishment for my behavior, he said that Satella was probably too harsh on me.  He had said it deadly serious, as he often is, but the slight twitch of his lips, the narrowing of his eyes, told me that he had meant it in a joking manner.  He then clarified that there would be no punishments the law didn’t require, and there were laws against owning slaves here, not for punishing them.  I caught myself apologizing for my ignorance, and the subject was quickly dropped with his promise that he would get a copy of the local laws for me to study after dinner.

And study them I did, reading through them several times, committing them to memory.  I was indeed shocked to see the declaration that slavery was illegal, that there were no provisions regarding treatment of kerryns, or any other races for that matter, and that most punishments involved fines, public humiliation, or jail time mixed with enforced labor, with more severe punishments requiring time in prison, with only the most severe transgressions recommending execution.  Torture was mentioned briefly, stating that in certain circumstances it was allowed, but I generally got the impression it was frowned upon.

It seemed strange to me that the town’s laws were so lax in comparison to those within the Empire.  However, even if I find their ways unusual, I must still abide by them to the best of my ability.  I wonder if I will be able to fully embrace them, though?  I am having more thoughts that a slave should not have, more questions unbecoming of a Stellae Illustris, of an Inquisitor, of a loyal servant of the Emperor, may He live forever.  My thoughts are heavy this night; I likely will find little sleep once more.

#Lore24 – Entry #125 – Muckenmyre Month #4 – Mayor Pleasence

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris.

I would find out after my awakening the following morning that I had been in the small room for a handful of days, that it was a bed in the town mayor’s home that I inhabited.  Throughout my recovery, Satella dutifully tended to me as my strength slowly returned.  During my stubborn insistence upon trying to care for myself, she was kind enough to let me try, and only stepped in once it was clear that I was still too weak to do more than walk about the room a time or two.  My wounds were healing cleanly, in spite of several places that had become infected, and now that my bones were set properly, with the aid of her goddess, I could move my body again.  Not normally, certainly, but that would return in time as I grew steadily stronger.

It was on the third day, late in the evening as the sun set, that I would finally meet the town mayor, Dannold Pleasence.  Satella prepared dinner as I continued the exercises that had once been second nature, but now seemed so exhausting, when the mayor returned.  As I would learn, he had been forced to leave town the day I had been brought in on some business to the north and had made the quick decision to allow Satella to use his home for my care.  I listened as he spoke quietly to Satella about my condition, could smell the strong odor of the swamp upon him as his sweaty scent drifted through the door. 

Much clearer of thought now that I had had time to process my situation, I wasted no more time and exited my room.  My immediate impression of the mayor was that he was something of a dour man, his shaven head bearing a few battle scars, one in particular which had remained after a strike had nearly taken his left eye, from the crown of his head to his jaw, his skin sun-worn and rough from age and a hard life.  He was in his middle years, but still had the strong body of a warrior and a laborer, and I saw his two-handed sword leaning in its scabbard by the outer door of the home. 

As he turned to address me, I immediately dropped to my knees and prostrated myself before him, begging his forgiveness at having imposed myself upon him in such a way, to express my sincere sorrow that a lowly slave such as myself had inconvenienced him so, and to thank him profusely for his kindness and generosity.  He was silent as I finished my outburst, but I dared not look up for fear of angering him, though I smelled a subtle change in his scent that told me he was more confused than anything, perhaps even embarrassed.  I got the impression he had looked to Satella for guidance in how to respond, but I could not say what her look had been.  I had done the same to her once I was strong enough, as was proper of a slave, but she had taken it in stride, insisting that it was no trouble, and for me not to worry myself over such things anymore.

After a long, awkward pause, the mayor finally managed to respond.  “That’s quite enough of that, my dear,” he said.  “You’re not in the Empire anymore, and I’ll not have that kind of behavior in my home, my town.”  As he approached, I expected him to kick me, or perhaps yank my hair so that he could deliver a firm slap to my face.  Instead, he guided me to my feet and brought me to the table in the dining area, even pulled the chair out and helped me to sit.  I was a little taken aback by this, to say the least, being unaccustomed to such treatment. 

Put somewhat off balance by this, my inquisitor’s instincts telling me to tread carefully for fear of a trap of some kind, I answered his questions honestly as Satella served our dinner, recounting why I had been aboard the doomed ship and what I recalled of my journey to Grimbridge.  He did not pry into my past much at all, didn’t even ask me as to the nature of my spiked collar and cuffs.  He knew I was a slave of course, but did not recognize the mark of the Stellae Illustris upon it; Satella had not mentioned it either, so perhaps they had no knowledge of what it meant?  He honestly seemed more concerned over the state of my body.  I assured him that Satella’s healing had worked well, and it was simply a matter of time before I was back to normal, but his concerns were of my old scars, specifically my slave brands, for they are upon both arms, and surrounded by deeper scarring. 

My brands are not unique, certainly, but are rarer amongst the kerryn slaves given my nature as not only a slave trainer buy as an inquisitor.  Most slaves will receive a magical brand upon the underside of their forearm marking them as property, showing who owns them at but a glance, given to them with little pain.  Mine were done not with magic, but heated metal, burning my owner’s insignia upon my flesh.  Some owners will still brand their slaves thusly if they have a taste for the sadistic.  I’ve had many owners in my life, and each time requires the old brands to be removed by peeling away the flesh, regrowing it anew through magical healing, and then reapplying the brand.  I hesitated to share this information, but for whatever reason, perhaps it was the compassion I felt from both he and Satella, I revealed the exact process, if not what it meant.  Satella was not fazed by this revelation, though Mayor Pleasence was…horrified.  My reassurances that such branding was not common did little to cure his unease, and I apologized immediately for upsetting him so; he barely touched his dinner after that, though he insisted that I had done nothing wrong.

He also insisted that an apology wasn’t needed, and that I wouldn’t need to worry about such treatment again.  When I inquired as to why, he stated that winter was upon them, and that the seas would be dangerous to traverse, even this far south.  Even if I wanted to return to the Empire, which, at the time, I certainly did, for it was my duty to serve the Emperor, may He live forever, I could not do so for several months, and it was his intention to teach me that kerryns were not slaves on this side of the world, whatever I may think of myself.

I could hardly believe it at that moment.  Kerryns free?  Not enslaved, as was proper?  How could that even be possible?  How could we be trusted with such freedom?  Surely there must be some kind of restrictions placed upon us? 

It made little sense to me.  Seemed absolutely reckless, dangerous even. 

Mayor Pleasence told me then that he would show me around town himself the following morning if Satella gave him the okay to do so.  She had no objections, had even picked out some clothing that would be more appropriate for me to wear.

My introduction to this strange new land would come on the morrow, for better or for worse. 

After dinner, when we had retired for the night, I held my collar again, ran my fingers over the rust-dulled spikes and thought of the Emperor, of home, of my life leading up to that fateful voyage to the Dragon Isles.  I had no true friends; slave trainers such as myself had no kerryns who would willingly associate with us, save those who were made to study under us, and only then in for the hope of gaining some form of power over our lesser slave-kin, and we were but tools for our masters to use. None in the Inquisition would call me friend; ally, perhaps, but certainly not friend. 

For the first time I began to have thoughts that would be considered treasonous for a Stellae Illustris, no, blasphemous, perhaps would be more accurate.  Who was the Emperor if not our god, and how could we possibly consider a life without being in his service?  How could a kerryn consider a life lived…free?

I did not sleep that night, did not realize that I had been so deep in thought until the first rays of the sun began to come through the window, the scent of early rain on the warm breeze that wafted through. 

#Lore24 – Entry #124 – Muckenmyre Month #3 – The Yurisayan Priestess

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris.

It took me a few moments in my confusion to register all of the details of the woman who had entered the room.  Very unbecoming of an Inquisitor, perhaps, but she had caught me at an uncharacteristically vulnerable moment.  I recognized the holy symbol that dangled from the leather collar about her neck immediately once I had come to some semblance of my senses, that of the Lady Yurisaya, worn as one who had dedicated themselves to the Dark Lady’s service would.  She was a shapely human woman, shorter than myself, though most humans are, her brown hair done up in a pair of tight buns atop her head, her eyes almond-shaped and a deep brown.  She wore a revealing black leather dress, somehow managing to win the battle against gravity by virtue of the size of the woman’s breasts and the strap that was secured above them, high slits in the dress revealing her muscular thighs.  She wore long leather gloves and thigh-length high heels, all in black, her boots marred only by signs of having traversed dirty streets.  Her scent was of some floral soap, sweat, leather, and something more familiar, that of blood.

I was familiar with the followers of Yurisaya, but her style of dress was unfamiliar, and though expectedly revealing, not like that of the priestesses seen throughout the Empire.  She bowed in greeting, her voice soft, compassionate as she introduced herself as Satella Schnyder.  I gave my name in turn, dipping my head as low as possible, keenly noting the lack of my collar, reverting back to the meek, deferential tone as was expected for a kerryn slave.  She came to the bedside, knelt in front of me and continued to smile up at me, taking my hand in her own as she began a prayer. 

Once her prayer had ended, she rose, still holding my hand, and sat beside me, looking at once sad and hopeful.  She began our conversation rather casually, expressing that she was pleased that she had arrived in Grimbridge in time to offer her aid to me, that Yurisaya herself had guided her to me to be my caregiver.  I couldn’t begin to understand why; what did the gods care about kerryn slaves?  We were forsaken, were we not, following our attempt to destroy the world by bringing demons upon it? 

She then told me that in order to heal my bones properly, we would be forced to break them again, that she was certain I had regained enough strength to handle the procedure without further complications, and that it would have to be performed soon.  I again meekly replied in the affirmative, for my slave’s mind had already assumed that this woman was to be my new owner, that she would have a new collar ready once I was fully recovered.  I won’t deny that a part of me absolutely cried out for the reassurance of a collar about my neck, of a hand holding my leash.  I would explain to her at a more appropriate time where my loyalties were, of course, and that perhaps there would be a reward for my return to the Emperor’s service, for surely she would not be interested in a slave such as myself.

But, for the time being, she asked if I was prepared for what must come, and I assured her that I was; I would not reveal that I could likely have healed myself just yet, for I had too little information about my situation, and could not know how she would react to a kerryn possessing magic.  Coaxing the collar from my hand before placing it back upon the nightstand, she had me stretch out upon the bed and began probing my partially healed bones with the touch of an expert healer.  Then, using techniques with which I am intimately familiar, she broke them again.  The agony was like a rush of fresh air, my brain finally coming free of the stupor that had consumed it upon my awakening.  I did not scream as my partially knit bones were once again shattered, barely even grunted; what were a few broken bones in the face of the tortures I had endured in my life?  Even the intense burning sensation of the goddess’s healing, known to be unpleasant to those not of the faith, was almost pleasurable now that my senses had recovered.

I could tell I had been weakened significantly by my ordeal, for the healing left me tired and on the verge of unconsciousness.  I barely remembered Satella leaving my side, if only for a few minutes, until she was suddenly there again, a fresh tray of food in hand.  She fed me, for I was suddenly too weak to do so myself, almost as if she were tending to a sick child.  Before she left me to rest, she returned my broken collar to my hands, clasping them around its tarnished form before tucking me in and leaving the room. 

I had only begun to ponder what strange fate I had been dealt when slumber came crashing upon me.  Though I had been distraught, the feel of my collar in my hands was nonetheless a welcome comfort.  I don’t recall having suffered any more nightmares while I slept, at least this time.