#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 #308 – Fantasy Month IV #3 – A Slight Against a Priestess, Apparently

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

As previously stated, I know not where I was taken, and by the time we arrived at our destination, I was a sweaty, sore mess inside the confines of the trunk.  I heard not a word of conversation that may have occurred around me, of course, thanks to the hood, and only my internal monologue and pained grunts and moans as the cart bounced along kept me company.  My attempts to surmise my captor had ended after perhaps an hour, for by then I had started to feel my discomfort most keenly in pretty much every part of my body due to the stress of my position and the hot confines of the trunk. 

Once the road upon which we traveled had smoothed out, things became somewhat more bearable, but only slightly, and when we stopped and I felt the chest being lifted, I knew that we had reached our destination at last.  At least, I had certainly wished it to be so; the thought of being transferred to another cart and driven off somewhere else in my state had filled me with dread at the time.  The drakonae carried me for perhaps a few minutes before the chest was placed rather roughly on the ground.  I could feel the rattle of the locks and latches being undone, and then the lid finally opened, a rush of thankfully much cooler air pouring over my hot, sweaty flesh, eliciting some rather relived sounds from my gagged lips.  Might I add that having worn the hood and gag for such an extended period, it had grown quite unpleasant due to my own drool?  The inside of the hood was absolutely soaked, as was my chin and neck where my drool had managed to find a way out.

Their strong, clawed hands lifted me out and set me on an even colder stone floor, and thankfully they released the strap holding me in the hogtie, allowing me some respite, though my joints and limbs were certainly still in some great discomfort.  I realized my relaxation upon the floor was not to last long, though, when I felt them attaching something to the shoulder straps of the armbinder harness.  A few moments later I felt the ratcheting action as chains hauled me upright, adding a new unpleasant element to my bondage.  Once I was fully upright and upon my feet, the chains continued upward a few more inches, leaving me dangling with only my toes able to touch the floor.

I was perhaps left alone for a time then; again, I could sense nothing of my surroundings thanks to the enchanted hood I had been forced into, only the occasional shift in the air flow over my body as I shifted unsteadily and uncomfortably upon my toes.  Once my sweat had dried and my body cooled, I found the surrounding air still somewhat warm, though hardly stifling, aside from the continued heat caused by the hood. 

I was in something of a state of half sleep when I sensed someone near me.  Even though my primary senses were still gone, I could sense the shift in the air as someone moved around me, and the subtle instinct that someone was staring at me was hard to ignore.  I ventured an inquiry, unintelligible as it may have been, but received no immediate response.  Whoever it was circled me, and I got the sense of being prey that was getting stalked by a deft hunter.  Or, perhaps, a worm on a hook would be a better analogy, as I recall squirming quite a bit after several minutes had passed.

Without warning, I suddenly felt hands upon my body, their arms reaching around behind me, tearing my already disheveled and sweat-soaked clothes open.  Sharp fingernails dug into my breasts as the hands grasped them and squeezed, seemingly weighing them before they traced uncomfortably down my sides, giving me the impression of knives running over my flesh.  Soon they groped my thighs, hips, and backside, and it wasn’t long before fingers were finding their way between my legs and my lower lips, again, seemingly testing my flesh, but then in a more teasing manner, those sharp fingernails pressing in a most intimate way.  Once I had started squirming more vigorously, the hands moved on, tracing down my legs all the way to my toes, stopping to test my soles with their nails.  I daresay I’m far more ticklish than I wished I was in that moment.

At long last, the hands left my body, and my mysterious tormentor stepped away for a few moments.  At least, I felt hands working the laces of the hood, drawing them loose, and gratefully I relished the cool air that assailed my head once it was finally removed.  Opening my eyes, I found the chamber lit by candlelight, though I could see little detail of my surroundings beyond their illumination save that it seemed very much a dungeon, though hardly a dank one.  The pungent odor of sweat and leather from my own body was stifled by the scent of perfumed, its strong, powerful scent tickling something of a vague recollection in my mind. 

My captors hands grasped my breasts again, her sharp nails pinching my nipples rather painfully.  I looked down, saw that her skin was a fiery red hue, her nails more akin to claws, and my breath caught in my throat as I fought not to make any sudden movements.  I saw that she wore fine black silk that hugged her forearms.  For a moment, we both remained motionless, then she pressed herself against my back, her body much warmer than my own.  I felt a third touch upon my hips, slipping between my legs, and as I squirmed, I caught sight of her slender tail as it caressed my thigh and teased my nethers.

The mazoku finally spoke then, her voice deeper than women, but smooth and seductive, as is natural for so many of her kind, yet filled with an undeniable commanding presence.  “Angelique Cartacustos…you dare to leave your station as my son’s tutor without even waiting for us to formally meet?  I’m quite offended!”

I shivered and let out a squeaking moan behind the jaw-breaking gag.  It was Alekos’s mother!  That vaguely familiar perfume was suddenly very familiar as I clearly remembered sampling it once during my time at the Kormides residence for one of the parties Alekos had hosted.  I even recalled him saying that it was his mother’s favorite! 

Then what may well have been the most distressing fact about what little I knew of his mother, Armenia, clicked into place, explaining much of my predicament at the time:  she was a priestess of Yurisaya, and a high-ranking one at that!

#Lore24 – Entry #307 – Fantasy Month IV #2 – An Unexpected and Unwelcome Detour

From the journal of Angeliqua “Goldeneyes” Cartacustos

As I write this, it has been several days since my previous entry, and I find myself in a peculiar situation, and far removed from the Great Library I had thought to return to.  A most unexpected and unwelcome detour has befallen me, and I now find myself enroute to the far south-western border of the Imperium and a region of the Wildlands that has recently drawn much attention from the Emperor and adventurers alike.  It is a most curious and vexing arrangement that I find myself in…but I suppose I shouldn’t get too far ahead of myself and recount the details of my situation.

I was in the midst of a most relaxed and deep slumber as my carriage left the outskirts of Draconis Magna and had been completely unaware that it had come to a stop soon after my slumber began.  I would not be aware of it until I was suddenly pulled from the carriage and thrown to the ground outside none too gently.  I was surrounded by a group of black-scaled drakonae,* but before I could even begin to inquire what was happening, one secured a jawbreakingly large ball gag harness about my head, and a black leather sack was pulled over it.  I immediately recognized this as a deprivation hood, for as the laces were deftly tightened and secured, I lost all sensations of hearing and sight beyond my own panicked breathing.  The drakonae worked with quick and well-practiced efficiency that led me to ponder the exact nature of their chosen profession, binding my hands first in tight-fitting leather mitts secured by straps around my wrists, and then drawing my arms together behind my back to encase them in a leather sheath that soon had them held uselessly and mercilessly together, only growing tighter as the laces were pulled tight and the straps around my chest secured. 

My legs were likewise sheathed in stout leather binder that was tightened just as cruelly, from my thighs to my ankles, leaving me perhaps only able to hop about.  That was, of course, until they secured a strap to my ankles to the ring at the base of my armbinder, effectively hogtying me, leaving my back arched in what would no doubt grow quite painful soon.  I was thankful for my natural dexterity and limberness, though how long that would avail me, I did not know at the time.

I had rarely been more secure even when I had assisted Regina Houslin with her binding staff or other experiments in restraint. 

Blind and deaf to the world around me, the drakonae’s efficiency continued as they worked together, their clawed hands lifting me up into what I assumed was a cart.  I was quickly proven wrong, however, when I realized that my knees and head were touching against the sides of something much smaller.  With a sudden panic, I realized, when the lid was closed above me (I could tell by the sudden loss of the heat of the sun upon my skin and the vibrations of the latches being closed) that they had placed me inside a chest!  In my furious struggles, I realized that the chest was barely big enough to contain me, and I had quickly built up quite a sweat, the air growing quite warm and thinner, but not enough that once I ceased my struggles that I was any danger of suffocation. 

I know not where they took me at the time, though I do know that riding hogtied in a chest with your limbs severely bound as I was, inside a chest upon a cart, can be a most uncomfortable and unpleasant experience. 

As my more reasonable mind began to take over as my panic subsided, I tried to reason out exactly who would go through the effort of kidnapping me in such a way, who I may have offended or who may stand to gain from my capture.  I had not been deeply involved with the upper crust of Draconis Magna’s wealthiest classes for long, and I could not remember specifically offending anyone, though given the sometimes mercuric nature of some of the nobility, perhaps I had slighted one in some way unbeknownst to me.  Or perhaps it was an enemy of General Kormides, seeking knowledge of his son through me?  Was it someone seeking knowledge of the Great Library for something nefarious?  It had to be someone of some wealth, or perhaps a group of individuals who had come together, for the party of drakonae were well-trained and brutally efficient, no doubt quite used to such activities, and that kind of expertise always came with a high price. 

I would have much time to ponder my situation, though no answers I could come up with would prepare me for the eventual truth I would learn of my abduction, nor would I know quite how to properly deal with the situation I would find myself in.

 

*Regarding the Drakonae:

I had decided a while back that kobolds and drakonae are separate races, and am formalizing that as of now.  Kobolds in my world are the classic fantasy/D&D creatures that are somewhat doglike in appearance.  Drakonae are more akin to the modern interpretations that have them as draconic in nature, with draconic features (scales, tails, claws, teeth, etc), abilities (such as dragon’s breath, waterbreathing, and wings in some cases), and heritage based upon reclaiming the lost glories of their mighty ancestors who long ago vanished.  Any references to “kobolds” in my older entries (both fantasy and sci-fi) that refer to them using draconic breath or breathing underwater, scales, etc, are Drakonae.  I think I’ve only referenced kobolds once (during the “Kobold Incident” in Eri and Hatae’s month of entries), so all other instances should be considered Drakonae (first named during the Helica month entries).