The Toy

This thread is closed. I have recruited a wildcard by the name of Braschi.

Disclaimer: This thread will feature strong themes of nonconsent, degradation and violence/torture. Anyone expecting hearts, flowers or consensual BDSM will be disappointed. Don't say I didn't warn you.


The cold, hard, stone altar bit deeper into Calina's numbed and yet aching body. Heavy chains shackled her wrists and ankles together and a piece of white muslin silenced her, distending her mouth as it gradually soaked up more and more saliva. Her body was sheathed in a simple robe of the same fabric and the candle-light enhanced its translucence, throwing her slim, pale curves into sharp relief. Her freshly washed hair was dark brown with glints of fiery auburn that danced in the flickering light. Her eyes were dark green and they roamed over the sparse chapel for the millionth time, flitting apprehensively to the only door and then dropping swiftly, the intelligent focus leaving them as they clouded with fear. She was so slightly built and of such short stature that she could lie full length on the altar if she chose to, which she didn't, curled as she was into as much of a foetal position as her restraints allowed her. Calina had been lying there for hours and for ought she knew, she could lie there many more before anyone came.

That morning she had been working at her mother's bath-house. She didn't pleasure the rich clients who visited herself but she worked hard to ensure the place ran smoothly, cleaning and refilling baths, serving refreshments and most importantly, taking money. Calina was of a marriageable age now but her mother's profession meant that no man would take her to wife. Calina remained virgin, though her theoretical knowledge about sex had been augmented by the scenes she had glimpsed as she went about her duties. Plenty of men and women had propositioned her but both Calina and her mother held out hope that someday she would marry and her virginity was therefore not for sale.

Although Calina's life at the bath-house had expanded some of her horizons, others had remained very closed and sheltered. It was very seldom that she ventured into the town and its bustling market square. Calina found the fortifications that encircled the town oppressive and the great castle that loomed over all seemed to cast a shadow wherever she went. The king was a good man and his people were loyal to him but Calina thought the castle looked menacing and even the nobility who visited the bath-house intimidated her with their superciliousness and finery. Calina had no knowledge of who the barons and knights were or to whom they were loyal. All the politics that people brought to the bath-house went completely over her head, though whatever gossip Calina overheard was always shared with her mother.

That day a lot of finely dressed people had used the bath-house and so even Calina had known that something was going on up at the castle. She had lost count of the number of people she had served wine and food to and virtually every room had been occupied throughout the day, a very rare occurrence indeed. Aurelia had even rented out her most lavish and private suite, complete with a separate exit into a concealed courtyard where a covered carriage could deliver and collect the most high profile client without his or her reputation being sullied. No fewer than three girls had been dispatched to the secluded room and Calina had spent much of her time ensuring that their most important client had everything they could require.

As the sun began to set, a footsore Calina had gone on her usual round dispensing and lighting candles, when she had been summoned to her mother's rooms, where they both lived. Aurelia had been a beauty in her day and still retained a fine bone structure and neat figure that she augmented with tightly laced dresses and discreetly applied kohl and rouge. Aurelia did not see clients herself any more, though she had been known to make the occasional lucrative exception for old times sake. A well turned out servant of some kind was offering her money and two palace guards were stood by the door, their expressions resolute.

"There is no negotiation here." The servant was saying as Calina crept into the room, bewildered. "You can accept the money or you can be stubborn and have your house closed down." The servant's tone was laced with counterfeit concern and dark amusement twisted his features. "You will not even be left with nothing, you will both be permanently silenced. I am sure you don't want that."

Aurelia regarded him levelly, then turned to Calina with the same glacial stare. There was a tightness in her expression that Calina recognised as distress and indignation blazed in her mother's eyes. What on Earth did this servant want that could upset her so?

"Calina, you must go with this man. You must be brave and remember that I love you." Aurelia moved towards Calina but the servant got their first, thrusting her over to the guardsmen, who chained her at wrist and ankle. They dragged her from the room before Aurelia could protest further.

Calina was cast across a horse like a sack of flour, covered with some cloth, cautioned to be still and quiet and then borne to the castle. She was ordered to bathe and the same servant took a blade to Calina's pubic hair, leaving her bald like a child. Finally, she was dressed in the muslin robe and with a long cloak thrown over her, she was hustled at knifepoint through the castle to a lavish suite of rooms including the private chapel in which she now found herself. She was chained to the altar and the heavy wooden door was locked and barred behind the servant when he left.

She was not stupid, Calina had deduced that she was here because someone wanted her virginity enough to bribe and blackmail her mother. It had to be somebody high up, even within the royal family perhaps. But the king was good and kind and his children were all known for their generosity and moral fortitude. Calina did not know about the rest of the nobility but the suite she had passed through had the look of a permanent residence rather than a guest room.

She was past crying now, past yelling into her gag and struggling against her chains. Now she just lay there resignedly, her stomach lurching with terror whenever she dwelt on who her abductor might be.

Theuderic resisted the urge to stab the man in front of him. Quite successfully, to judge from the courteous smile playing over his lips. Pompous git. Give a peasant a little bit of responsibility and money, and now he feels he's an expert at business. Maybe the Prince as a little more annoyed because the merchant was right. He was explaining why it would be cheaper, more efficient -and ultimately more profitable to him, of course- to bring iron from the mountains instead of up from the port in Saintes. But that was the only way Theuderic could ship twice as much iron than was necessary, and divert it to his own armoury.

Pompous git, but a useful one. So the Prince cranked on a smile. He was standing above the battlements of the castle. He liked it up here, standing over the gate, gazing over the city and the fields and mountains beyond the outer ramparts. He felt much like the captain of a ship, sailing through the swells of the world. It was evening now, and all he could see were the torches of candles of the streets and homes bellow, and the guard posts around. A twilight breeze blew in from the fields, the scent of cut grass. How he enjoyed the peace and silence, from the... silence?

He turned the merchant who was looking at him expectantly. "Thank you, Egbert, I'll think about that and maybe we can work something out."

Clearly the merchant was hoping for something else. Suddenly the heretofore silent Sigebert spoke up.

"Look, Egbert, the reality is that we have to bring the ore from Saintes. There's just no other way to do it."

Egbert interposed, "of course, I do nothing but obey His Highness' bidding. I am a loyal servant." He gave a short bow. "But... I was just hoping to help, save the Crown some money."

The Prince clapped him on the shoulder. "I know, Egbert, that's why I said-"

"I think we should tell him." Theuderic looked at the noble in surprise. He knew full well what was going on, what was he playing at? The Prince's attention was finally fully back into the conversation. "He's going to find out anyway," continued Sigebert.

The Prince's mind finally made the connection, and he grinned, though the merchant missed the steel edge in the corners of his mouth. "I don't know..." he turned to the man whose shoulder he still held. "Can you keep a secret?"

Curiosity got the better of the peasant, skilled as he was in negotiations thanks to the Prince having dragged him from a muck channel two years previously. He nodded eagerly, as about to be included in an important affair, above his station. "Of course, Your Highness."

The Prince turned back to his noble friend. Sigebert dropped his voice conspiratorially after glancing over his shoulder to check for non-existent guards. "You pick up the ore at the port, right? And you've seen the deckmaster's daughter, right?"

Egbert nodded, and at the last question a knowing look came into his eyes.

"Quite a looker, yes? Well," he cleared his throat for dramatic effect, "if we aren't getting the ore from Saintes, His Majesty would be most curious as to why I keep going there every week." He winked.

"Oh!" agreed the peasant sagely. "Very smart, my Lord." He was a bit disappointed as he realized he couldn't convince either noble to improve his profits, but he had respect. He had praise. They trusted him with a personal secret, and that gave him value. Pride.

Theuderic was impressed with Sigebert's conniving mind. He let go of the merchant's shoulder. "I know it's a little more expensive, but I have to look out for my friends."

"Of course, of course," the merchant doffed his hat at the young noble. He realized that was the end of the conversation, and took his leave.

Shaking his hand, the Prince reminded him, "of course my father needn't know."

The merchant bowed low, "I am at your Highness' command."

"Good."

A minute later Sigebert and the Prince were striding up the halls of the castle having left the peasant behind.

"You sly bastard," laughed Sigebert, "So how many maidens do you plug a week now?" He leered at his friend; even though he was helping him, he couldn't keep himself from nettling the noble just a bit.

"Enough. I just have to keep track of all the lies I tell for you."

"Well, be sure to not repeat this one, so if we hear about you dallying in Saintes, we'll know we can't trust Egbert with a secret."

Sigebert smiled out his pride, "I shut him up and test his loyalty with just a little story. You should be proud of me."

"You are a lying, cheating bastard," acknowledged the Prince.

"Learned from the best." He grinned.

The Prince shoved him back and came to a stop. They were at the door to his private chambers. "If anyone asks, I'll be a little late."

The mood turned serious. Sigebert noticed a change in his Prince. "You're not going?"

"I am. I just have to check on something."

Sigebert gave him a searching look and then turned about. "Don't be too late. You're father will hound me and not let me get at any the of the girls." And he sped off down the corridor.

The Prince forced a laugh as he closed the door. Rabo, his oldest and most trusted servant stood at the other side of the room. He'd been waiting all day for this, all month... maybe his entire life? He considered whether he wanted to rush the affair, and get back up to the Court. Or maybe wait for later.

Anticipation took hold of him, like a child waiting for the morning of Christmas. What's the use of being a Royal if you can't enjoy a few guilty pleasures?

"Did you get it?" he asked, almost in a whisper.

The servant nodded. "In the chapel, Master."

The Prince stood, his back to the door, just for a second, savoring the anticipation a moment, then strode forward. The chapel was disused; Theuderic's private antics felt a bit shy to be exposed to the eyes of God. Besides, he had himself to worship, and that was enough divinity for him. His personal Priest, privilege of his Royal blood, had much better uses, anyway.

The Prince pushed open the door to the chapel. Disused, but not uncared for. Rabo was an excellent servant; he kept everything in order as it should be. With the castle staff at his disposal, it wasn't all that hard. But it was his attention to detail that the Prince admired. The candles, the robe, the setting.

At the altar he stopped, and walked slowly around the dais, taking in every morsel of form and sensation, like a painter inspecting a masterpiece. He didn't want to rush and spoil it; he was only teasing himself, to have images and thoughts to lurk in the corner of his mind, to fantasize and plan. To extend that exquisite torture of anticipation.

Finally, he stopped, facing the girl on the cold stone. He reached forward and tugged a bit at the sodden gag, and then dropped it with a slight expression of disgust crossing his face. He wiped a fleck of her drool from his fingers on her shoulder, but made no move to remove the gag. Or her restraints.

The Prince's eyes roamed over her body, but this time his hand traced over her shoulder, arm, side, thighs, and back over her again. Despite his sense of heady joy at his new present -though it was from himself- his hands were steady and calm. Only a curve on one side of his mouth, and a quickened breathing betrayed his emotions.

Gently his fingers caressed through her hair, as he drank in the last bits of her form, and he stood for a second staring. Calm and peaceful. He'd so much practice controlling himself in front of society, not making any scandals-

Suddenly he burst forward, grasping the frail muslin that covered her chest and ripping it open. His face was unmasked in desire, and his emotions poured out. He grasped her breasts roughly in his battle-hardened hands, rolling them around, pulling at her skin with no regard for what it felt like. He was still inspecting, still probing; but the wonder and awe of opening a long-awaited present was gone.

He left her breasts be, and ripped down the fabric exposing her thighs. He grasped her knees and unceremoniously forced them apart. Years of swordsmanship had made him as strong as a bull. His fingers glanced over her newly-shaven skin, then forced her lips apart, his finger poking into her.

"Virgin?" He demanded.

"Yes, Master," came Rabo's voice from the shadows.

The Prince grunted and let her go. Then he took up a fistful of her hair, twisting her onto her back despite the restraints, and raising her head to look into her eyes. Then he slapped her twice across the face. Hard. First with his palm and then backhand. As her cheeks began to redden, he spoke, not overly loud, but there was cruel iron in his voice,

"Now pay attention. You are here for my pleasure. You will do exactly what I say, when I say, how I say. You might think that coming from a whorehouse, being the daughter of a whore might give you some privilege, but it doesn't. You aren't even worth the meat on your bones here. You have to work to gain even the privilege to being treated like dirt.

"And don't you go getting any funny ideas. Because your mother is clearly in violation of the King's law. So if you do anything that even remotely doesn't exactly completely meet with my satisfaction, I can go down down to the city and have your mother's house raised to the ground and her burned at the stake. Maybe I'll have her turn tricks in the guardhouse. I don't know; depends on what I fancy.

"But, my daydreams aside, your pain is my pleasure. You will give me pleasure, else I will cause you pain until I am pleased. What kind of pleasure? That's for me to decide. But coming from that miserable little bath house you called a home, I'm sure you can imagine. The important thing you remember is that you are worthless.

"Do you understand?"

It must have been a rhetorical question, because gagged and his hand holding her head securely in place, there was no way she could answer. A sadistic grin flashed across his face, and he threw her head back down on the stone altar. Probably not hard enough to do any permanent damage, but he wasn't particularly caring.

The Prince turned to his servant. "I have social things to do tonight, so put her down in the dungeon for now."

"Yes, Ma-"

"No, wait. She'll be seen there." He scratched his chin. "We don't use this place much. Chain her to a wall or something, keep her from running off." He strode from the room. At the door he halted for a second and turned back to Rabo. "And see to it that she does NOT get any food or water tonight." And he was gone.

The servant stood for a second in his darkened corner, then left quietly.

After what felt like an eternity, the lock and bolt on the heavy wooden door ground open. Calina had been in a fitful doze but she leaped awake, fighting her restraints with blind terror for a moment until she remembered where she was. She could do nothing but cower on the alter as a man strode in. Instantly she knew this was not the light-footed minion who had been periodically checking on her. This man strode purposefully to the altar and she hardly dared to look up at him. Looming over her in the flickering candle-light, he seemed grotesque to her and impossibly tall.

Calina had only seen the royal family as all peasants did, from a distance at state events. There were a few occasions each year when they bothered to leave the comfort of the castle and gaze condescendingly at their subjects, those who kept them in luxury by the heavy taxes that the King insisted was the price of peace and good trading relations with neighbouring lands. Calina could tell by this man's attire, his cleanliness and the jewellery that adorned him that he was a nobleman of the highest rank but she did not recognise him as the heir to the throne.

He moved around her, staring at her as though looking for some defect or blemish. His face was inscrutable, even when he reached down to run a hand over her body and through her hair. His touch made gooseflesh rise on her as adrenaline pumped beneath her skin. Suddenly he tore the robe from her upper body, making her cry out into the gag and shrink away from him. His calloused hands took hold of her breasts, mauling them painfully hard, as though he wanted to rip them from her body. His expression now was savage and lecherous. He moved down to tear the thin fabric from her lower body and pulled her legs apart with such brutality that to a bystander it would have looked as though she hadn't resisted him. He probed inside her as his servant had already, confirming her purity. He looked so feral that Calina was convinced he was about to mount her there and then but he pulled out of her sex as though it had stung him and moved around to her head, bearing down on her as she stared at him helplessly.

His thick fingers twisted in her hair, putting her on her back and then lifting her towards him so he could intimidate her even further. An openhanded slap landed across her face, swiftly followed by a vicious backhand that struck her cheekbone and made her eye socket blossom with pain. That he was only using a tiny proportion of his strength chilled Calina to the bone. Her eyes watered and she felt her face redden and swell as she hung from his fist, shaking violently.

Her eyes widened even further as he told her she was here to serve him, that she was worthless to him, that her mother would die if she disappointed him. The coldness of his tone and the harsh edge to his glare convinced Calina that he was not exaggerating. This was not a man who bluffed. Despite his finery, he was clearly a formidable warrior. He filled out his clothing with hard muscle and his palms had the callouses that swordsmen developed. Men who had seen battle were always forever changed. This was a man who had killed many times, both directly and in whatever capacity he upheld the law of the land. He would have no qualms about killing or brutalising her mother, or indeed about killing Calina herself.

He grinned evilly and threw her back down onto the stone altar, making her strike her head painfully hard, dazing her. Her assailant addressed his servant and then left. Rabo followed him, leaving Calina lying there naked, chained and mildly concussed.

When he returned later on, Rabo had a wooden bucket in one hand and a vicious dagger in the other. He placed the bucket on the floor, removed her gag and carefully unshackled her from the altar. Calina was permitted to relieve herself and he then chained her in a corner. She had enough chain to be able to lie down and use the bucket but that was all. By this time Calina was shivering with cold but he offered her nothing to cover herself with. He left her there with no option but to curl into a foetal ball and contemplate her fate at the hands of her violent captor. Rabo had been unforthcoming as to who the whoreson was, he had said nothing to Calina that was not an instruction.

Calina had seen some of the people who came to the bath-house for more alternative pleasure. She had seen them bound and whipped, humiliated and degraded, walked around the house on a leash like a dog, men who wanted to be sodomised painfully... and worse. She knew there were people who needed pain in order to enjoy sex and even those who enjoyed being abused and then denied sex altogether. The male and female whores who obliged them would gossip with each other about clients' proclivities, often enjoying making Calina blush. Her abductor's references to her pain being his pleasure did not bode well for her and the fact he had to snatch a girl because his tastes were to violent or extreme for a woman to lie with him willingly was nothing short of terrifying. Calina lay there, shivering in the dark as all the depraved anecdotes and glimpsed scenes from the bath-house fell through her mind.

[I hope you don't mind me puppeting Rabo a little, let me know if so. Also, I'd love some description of your character.]

Theuderic strode purposefully through the halls, away from his chambers. Lots of people walk in circles when they have a lot on their minds, but Theuderic strode, his heels banging on the floor, the servants hastily stepping out of his way. The jumble in his head was relived by the clear, strait, purpose of his gait. He'd left half of his mind back in the chapel, still relieving what'd happened. The walking also abated the fire in his loins.

It wasn't like he didn't have servants or slaves. Or loyal and willing followers. He was a commander of soldiers; he'd sent men off to their certain deaths. No, it wasn't the power that brought a wicked smile to his face, the tingle of joy running up his spine. He had that. No, it was the abject selfishness. Whatever he did with the girl started with him, and ended with him. Everything that happened in that chapel would be for him, and him alone. Unlike when he commanded a battlefield; that was for the good of the Kingdom, the glory of the Crown, the safety of his people. Or a good part of it was, anyway.

The prince was recalled to his surroundings when he pushed into the Great Hall, and the roar of many people eating. There was a feast that night, with the Barons and Nobles of the entire Kingdom having traveled to Court to assist. The room as chock-full with people, all dressed up in the latest fashions, arranged along tables though the hall. On a dais at one end sat the King and the royal family, with one or two prominent guests. One of these was the ambassador from Pyrene, the Kingdom to the south. Tonight was a special event, because tomorrow the Crown Prince of Pyrene would arrive to marry Theuderic's sister, and cement an alliance between the two Kingdoms. Everyone of any importance had come to the castle to witness the blessed event. Theuderic was bored; he didn't get along much with his sister, and didn't care about Pyrene.

Taking his seat a little farther down the table than was his wont, he cast about the congregation, nodding at people he was particularly friendly with; and a smile for those he decided to favor. On a nearby table sat Sigebert, who raised his glass when the noticed the Crown Prince. Theuderic nodded, and glanced at the pretty blond sitting in front of his friend and smirked.

Theuderic's brother, younger by three years, was scowling into his food.

"One of these days I'm going to kill Sigebert," the younger prince announced. Theuderic caught the light tone in his voice.

"Why? Because he's handsomer than you?"

"No; I don't care what he looks like. He keeps stealing my girls." He put on a mock-serious face. "I'm a prince! I could make her Queen, eventually."

"Over my dead body, little brother." It was joke, but Theuderic still had a note of iron in his voice. "Besides, don't you have enough, already? How many bastard kids do you have, anyway? I lost count."

The young prince looked affronted, "I don't have any..." and he dropped his voice.

"That's right; I forgot you're impotent." Theuderic got a punch in his arm for his joke. "Your horses don't leave the barn." He grinned despite being hit again. "You have lazy horses. Sleeping in the sun all day."

"Boys!" Interposed the King. The siblings quieted for a bit.

The younger prince sobered a bit, though only changed the subject slightly, "When are you going to get yourself a princess, anyway?"

Theuderic made a disgusted face. Like he would bother with women.

"You know," the young prince continued, despite shoveling food into his mouth, "if I get an heir before you, it just might be that the Council and Dad see me as a more.... inheritable prince." He grinned playfully at his brother, but there still was a note of seriousness in his voice. "It doesn't look good to take the throne without a Queen-to-be. Your line would look weak."

"Here, take a bigger bite and choke on it."

"Oh, don't worry; I'll make sure you get a nice Earldom. In the mountains someplace. Lots of poor people for you to abuse."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yep. Oh, and no women, of course. Since you don't like them."

Theuderic gave a somewhat girlish wave, "Why thank you. Lots of strong, burly men, right?"

The young prince laughed. "Yeah, big and strong-"

"Excellent, I'll use them to get my throne back."

The young prince wasn't happy.

The conversation was lighthearted, and it wasn't like the two brothers handn't talked of it before. But, it did drag to the fore Theuderic's evident lack of a mate. He hadn't bothered much with the women of the court, because he knew none of them could satisfy his tastes. They were all too fragile, skittish, used to the easy life of courtiers. To used to being princesses. He looked over some of the guests, now that the dinner was winding down and people were getting up to talk to others. A lot of the young girls cast him glances. Not him, though; because he was acutely aware that they were pining for the Crown Prince, not Theuderic. There was no way that those girls could like him: none of them really knew him. And his mind wandered back to his captive in the chapel. So much more fun than the vapid, mindless noblewomen. At least she would see the real Theuderic, though she probably wouldn't like him. Not very many people would.

Funny, for all the absolute power of the Crown, custom meant the royal family really weren't all that free. They were inescapable convicts of their own power. Theuderic would change that.

Sigebert stood in front of the table. The pretty blond stood near one of the doors leading farther into the palace. Evidently the young noble had convinced her to explore it with him, probably including a detailed tour of Sigebert's bedroom.

"I was just telling Theu here how I'm going to kill you some day." The younger prince leered up at Sigebert.

The noble bowed. "I thank His Highness for taking so much thought to me."

"But, since you are such a good brown nose, maybe I won't. Don't tire her out too much; maybe I can get her on the rebound."

With that, the prince pushed off and walked down the table. Sigebert was looking down at Theuderic with a bit of concern.

"Are you OK?"

The prince looked up irritably. "That's tenth time you've asked me today!"

Sigebert shrugged. "You look distracted. Just want to make sure you can get through the night without me."

"Get out of here!" But the prince was smiling. He glanced over the amassed throng and cut up the last pieces of food on his plate. Soon he'd be swamped with visitors for the farther reaches of the realm, talking, reacquainting, petitioning, planning, plotting. He really ought to stay, reaffirm his power. But not tonight; his mind was still on his new treasure. He'd see all these people again tomorrow, and there would be an even bigger feast in the evening. Plenty of time for politics. Along the other end of the table already a throng had formed around the King and his daughter. Well-wishers and petitioners to be sure. Theuderic often wondered how come, if his father was such a benevolent and good King, so many people managed to ask him for things. That he gave them his help seemed to be what made him most loved... but wasn't it his job to make sure people didn't need help in the first place?

His brother was there, too. For all of his talk of girls, Theuderic knew he was quite smitten by the comely lass that stood behind his chair. She was the daughter of the Lord of Angia. Theuderic wondered if it was strategic, as Angia was on the southwest border, next to the lawless lands and Pyrene. As the only part of the kingdom which had seen combat in recent years, Angia's men were the only veterans in the realm. A key element for anyone planning or expecting a war -or protracted succession disagreement. Theuderic had tried to rotate soldiers out of Angia, to give his own men some experience. But the Lord had resisted, and even gone to the King. Even now his daughter was looking somewhat askance at the Crown Prince. Something that merited further thought. Maybe the Inquisitor could got down there...

Theuderic noticed his sister for a second. She was a bit more quiet and reserved than usual, probably nervous about the upcoming wedding. He had to give her credit for her spirit, though: tomorrow she was to wed a man she'd never met, be taken hundreds of miles from home to a strange land and perhaps never see her friends or family again. She would have to fend for herself. Yet she still appeared outwardly calm and took the time to care about her subjects. Probably Theuderic should say something to her, maybe reassure her... well, he didn't know. He wasn't that kind of person. He bolted his last bite of food and pushed away from the table before he could be acosted by any of the nobles.

He was concerned about his moodiness lately. Or maybe it was irritability. He was a man, after all, and not good at digesting his own emotions. He hated emotions, actually; they distracted him from his ruthless march towards power. His face set as he walked along the corridors: expessionless, hard, uncaring. He took on purpose, as his boots stamped on the floor, he would stamp out his emotions.

A minute later the prince banged open the door to his private chapel. It was late; the moon was high in the sky, and came through the windows silhouetting him in the doorway. Rado had heard his master come in, but had learned long ago not to be caught in his presence at such times. Theuderic was now completely alone with the... his mind didn't register her as anything more than an object. Objective. Target.

He picked up a candle to better see in the dark, lighting it and standing over the form chained to the wall. The candle was high above him, throwing the features of his face in stark relief, like sharp strokes of a chisel in stone. And such was his expression, hard, cold, unchangeable... unfeeling. A drop of was escaped from under the wick and ran senslessly over his fingers before dropping on the girl below. It was burning hot and and she couldn't help but flinch.

Swiftly, and with no change of expression, the man drove a kick into the captive's side. While that registered with his victim, he propped the candle on the bucket, rather precariously, but he wasn't paying it much attention. His eyes seemed to glow with the fierceness, despite his set face. The wells of his frustration at the nuances of politics were overflowing, and it had been too long since he'd walked on a battlefield to relieve them. His fist came down with the precision of an expert fighter, knocking her into the floor; with the effectiveness of a sadist, hard enough to hurt, maybe bleed, but not to render her blissfully unconcious.

He struck her arms and shoulders, not out of care, but what was easiest and most readily available. He felt his blood surge in his body, and experienced the exhilerating relief of release. The monster was unshackled for a while. He was kneeling over his victim, still oblivious to any protests she might make, or resistence she might offer. He was far too strong, his anger, lust and greed far too powerful. With one arm about her legs, pinning her close, he hammered her thighs and back with his fist. Finally his face cracked, and a grimmace appeared. His fingers twisted over her skin, his muscles bulged and flexed under his tunic as he drew his hands along her flesh, with the strength and drive of trying to pull her soul from her body, leaving long streaks of bruised skin. His fists crashed into her stomach, and he pushed himself away.

The prince knelt on the floor, laying back on his hands as he got his breath back. He felt excited, thrilled, but at the same time, sated. His face returned to his usual stony, impassible expression, and he stood up. He scooped up the candle and gave the girl a final vicious kick and left her in the dark. He felt good, much more himself, much happier about how tomorrow would work out. He toyed with going back to the feast; he could put up with a lot of nobles now. But it was late, so he made his way to his bedchamber, already anticipating the morning...



Theuderic. (Yes, I'm a sucker for the heroic pose )

Calina had fallen into a light doze, a shivering foetal ball on the cold stone of the chapel. When the door crashed back on its hinges she leapt awake, her blood instantly racing. A glowing apparition was bearing down on her and she scrambled away from it, cowering in her corner as it loomed ever closer. Once she had blinked the sleep from her eyes and his heavy footsteps had reached her, Calina could see that it was the awful man who had attacked her earlier. The candle he carried illuminated his face from below, making his tanned, chiselled features glow like some hellspawned demon. He looked utterly cold and his eyes were soulless pits, depthless. Dazzled by the sudden lightsource, her own candle having burned out some while ago, her tormentor was literally the only thing Calina could see.

She cried out as hot wax landed on her shoulder, flinching violently and trying futilely to shrink into the thick stone wall behind her. She heard his indrawn breath at her yelp and suddenly knew with some primal instinct that she had made things worse, goading him by letting him witness her terror and pain. His booted foot drove into her side and she screamed in pain and shock as her slim body was kicked hard into the wall, knocking all the air form her. Calina was still trying to draw breath when his fist came down into her skull and she sprawled onto the ground at his feet, too dazed even to reflexively curl her body in self defence. Her jaw felt like he had shattered it and her eyesocket flared with pain.

Calina stared up at him as he straddled her. There was rage and malice etched into his featured but his eyes were positively gleeful, they glittered at her with lustful intent. His weight came down heavily onto her lower body and Calina was convinced that this was the start of a brutal rape. Her poor virgin birth canal clenched beneath him, even as he rained blows onto her arms and shoulders. Now she was crying out and sobbing loudly, but her attacker didn't seem to care. Still he said nothing to her, as though she was some kind of base creature instead of a captive woman. It was suddenly important to Calina that he heard her voice. Perhaps it would curb his animalistic excesses if he couldn't treat her like the straw filled dummies men hacked to death on tiltyards.

"Why are you doing this to me? Please stop this!"

He didn't miss a beat, he continued striking her as though she hadn't spoken. Calina was coming to the conclusion that this man was dangerously unhinged. He moved down her body and gripped her lower legs while he beat her thighs. As he slid down her upper body from her hips to her calves, his turgid arousal pressed hot and hard against her through his clothes, confirming to Calina that he was getting a sexual thrill from this. The heavy organ hanging between his spread legs felt huge and heavy to her fevered virgin imagination, terrifying her even further. That he was getting sexually excited by this appalling violence made Calina physically sick. Anger and indignation burst through her fright and her terrified features twisted into outraged contempt.

"You gutless coward!" She snarled. "All that strength and you choose to tenderise me like stewing steak! What's the matter? Lose your bollocks on the battlefield when you had to fight real men did you?"

Still he paid her no heed, battering her spine with heavy blows and then running hard, calloused hands over her until her whole body ached. His face took on a rictus grin and Calina began to wonder if he had totally lost his wits. She tried more desperately to get through to him, attacking him next in such a way as no man would tolerate.

"Have you not a mother and sisters? I hope whole band of mercenaries beats them into pottage and swives them like cheap camp whores!"

His clenched fists came down on her stomach and Calina doubled over, silenced. She had no way of knowing if the sudden double blow was a response to what she'd just said. He moved away from her as she sobbed and retched, suddenly glad that he hadn't fed her. Calina shuddered violently, cold, agonised and in a state of shock. She had been worried about how much it would hurt when he raped her but she was in such terrible pain now that it couldn't possibly make any difference.

She cast a glance over him as he paused, breathing heavily with exertion, as well he might. She fancied that his expression had softened a little and even began to wonder incredulously whether her words had reached him. He retrieved his candle and stood. Was he really done? Was he really going to leave now? Would he be leaving now if she hadn't spoken?

He answered her with a vicious kick that struck her ribcage and winded her. Calina lay there helpless and silent as he stalked away, unable to draw breath properly until after he had closed and locked the chapel door.

After the adrenaline ebbed from her and the tension left her, she didn't move. Calina's only defence against the agony he had left her in was absolute stillness. She breathed shallowly, the most savage pain coming from her ribcage, closely followed by her head and gut. After long hours of staring at the door, petrified he'd come back and violate her, bitter cold set into her bones, mitigating some of the pain but causing its own brand of wretched discomfort and numbness. She shuddered violently throughout the night, each bout of shivers wracking her battered body with fresh, raw pain. By the time dawn began illuminating the stained glass in the windowslits, Calina was numb in places, aching in others, hungry, thirsty, exhausted and in a state of physical and psychological shock. Her bladder pained her but she simply wasn't capable of squatting over that damn bucket. She lay in her corner helplessly, unable to draw her eyes away from the door. She had cried a lot during the night, leaving her face streaked and puffy. There were no tears now though, now she was tensed and dreading his return, unable to push her mind any further than that, unable to bring herself to even begin imagining what he would do to her next.

As usual for soldiers, Theuderic woke when the first rays of the sun were glinting off the clouds. It was quiet in the castle, the moment when most people were getting their last moments of sleep. On campaign, the Prince would normally jump up, pull a knife from under his pillow and go for a run. If possible, he'd kill a rabbit or other wildebeest for breakfast. It always made the day better; it was usually the only moment he could get alone before the duties of commanding an army took up his time.

But at the keep he would laze in bed. Not that he was a lazy, but there were people in the city and he could only get moments of peace and loneliness in his own chambers. He woke completely alert, though, and sucked in a deep breath as he rolled onto his back. Normally he would start scheming about the events of the day, but today he had something completely different on his mind. It was warm out, but he stayed under the silk sheet. Untroubled by all the formal personal servants that most nobles and royals seemed to accumulate, Theuderic slept in the nude. While this afforded him a lot more liberty, the creases in the cloth tugged at his turgid member, as he shifted into a more comfortable position.

Waking with an erection was normal, but he had last night's events fresh in his mind, and a smile played over his face in the twilight as his hand slipped down to grasp his swollen cock. The girl's screams echoed in his mind as he slowly squeezed the tip of his organ, sliding the skin up and down and rolling it over itself.

"Please stop this!" he heard her once again, and the sound of his hands striking her skin. The rush of exhilaration and arousal rolled over his loins once more, and unbeknownst to him, his smile deepened. He was allowing himself the emotions that hadn't registered on his face the night before, pulling in a deep breath and reliving the feel of her trembling flesh. The fear in her eyes and the panic in her voice. They shot tendrils of pleasure up his spine. He closed his eyes and reviewed the feel of her body giving way under his blows. They must of really hurt. But he didn't care about that; it was the miserable creature cowering away from him in the dark which drew him. Pain was just a tool, a means to achieve his ends. And there wasn't much he couldn't acquire without the skillful application of pain.

"You gutless coward!" and his hand clenched harder about himself. A vein rose; he would punish her for that, and the thought brought more pleasure to his groin. A flash of images flew through his mind, things he could do to hurt her, humiliate her, degrade her. Each one tantalizing, each one bringing him that much more pleasurable anticipation. He pictured her forced to serve the guards of the palace, but rejected it as too cliché. Where was his sadistic pride? Maybe drag her down by the hair to the brothel she came from, and make her mother watch while he used each of her holes in turn? He liked that, but it wasn't very profitable. No, his things were to serve for furthering his ambitions; and his ambitions must now be concerned with the upcoming wedding and all that it implied for politics. The favors he could buy... she was too resistive and unskilled to be used for that, yet. He needed to work on training her, bending her to his will.

That thought was musing on his mind when there was a rap on his door, and his hand slipped from habit under the pillow and grasped the hilt of his dagger. The door pushed open, Rabo shuffled in bearing a tray, and the Prince lay back on his pillow. The manservant placed the tray on a table and went to open the shutters on the window. Theuderic remarked with surprise that the sun was already poking over the horizon; he must have been fantasizing for quite a while.

"Good morning, Master," intoned Rabo, as he went to retrieve the tray.

The prince grunted, and sat up in his bed. Usually he was happy to get the day started, but Rabo had interrupted his musings.

"There was a quiet night," informed the manservant as he placed the tray of breakfast on Theuderic's lap. "No couriers arrived in the night."

"Everyone's coming in person," surmised the Prince breaking up the bread on his plate. Unlike most people in the city who started the day with a flagon of beer or mead, Theuderic preferred a mug of hot boiled water. He felt it gave him more energy.

"His Majesty sent word that Court will begin at the strike of two today, to welcome the guests." It was more of a reminder and the Prince didn't answer. There was a second of pause.

"Rabo, fetch my ... toy, from the chapel." As the manservant bowed and left the room, the Prince mused that he needed something like a name for the girl. He was unconcerned that she might already have one, but he did like the sound of "toy". His heart beat a little faster as he protracted his breakfast a bit; he had an amusement in store for himself.

A few moments later Rabo dragged Calina into the room. In the freshly minted sunlight she looked even more bedraggled, which could only please the Prince A more concerned man might have wondered if Rabo had given her time to relieve herself, since he clearly hadn't given her a chance to be more presentable. Thuderic was wholly unconcerned about her wellbeing. However, her raw wrists and ankles, the torn dress and bruises only made her that much more ravishing to him.

The manservant pushed her forward, holding her arms at her back, and then forced her to kneel at the side of the bed. Everyone had a place in Theuderic's dominion. A savage grin stretched the Prince's features as he watched the girl, and he overtly watched, enjoyed, her practically revealed breasts bounce when her knees hit the floor. He fully expected her to have some retort; and while he liked her having spirit, he was completely unconcerned with her opinion.

"Good morning, toy," he mocked. "Toy, yes, that's a good name for you now. Were your accommodations to my liking? I think so." His grin deepened. "I hope you are hungry, because I'm having a very tasty breakfast, and I want you to watch." His eyes searched her face for a reaction, but it was only an instant, before he continued, as if it were an afterthought, "Oh, and you know what would make my breakfast even better?" He pulled the blanket and sheet aside revealing the rest of his bare body, and the swollen member which lay against his lower abdomen, "You sucking my cock while I eat." His flesh gave a little pulse when he said this. "I don't want you to think I'm a monster, so if you do that little favor for me, I'll give you something to eat and drink at the end. What do you think?" He was smiling, but the way a cat does before it either eats the mouse, or toys with it some more...

She awoke from her light doze abruptly as the chapel's lock scraped open. Calina's belly gave an audible rumble as Rabo approached her. Her battered body had become so stiff from soreness, cold and the hard stone floor that he had to lift her bodily onto the toilet bucket and then half carry her towards the door. Calina's stammered queries were met with a curt command for silence. She managed to suppress her whimpers of pain until they reached her tormentor's grand bedchamber but Calina could not help but cry out as she was dumped on her knees beside a huge, curtained bed. He left her unshackled. Beaten and weakened as she was by hunger and thirst, there was no danger whatsoever of Calina giving Rabo any trouble.

"Good morning, toy. Toy, yes, that's a good name for you now. Were your accommodations to my liking? I think so."

The loathing in her dark green eyes eloquently conveyed what Calina thought about her 'accommodations' but she had the sense to hold her tongue. His grin became even wider. Calina did not have to look further than the rigid bulge beneath his bedcovers to guess why.

"I hope you are hungry, because I'm having a very tasty breakfast, and I want you to watch."

She swallowed down the hunger and thirst welling within her at the sight and scent of his beautifully prepared meal. She dropped her gaze, compressing her lips against the dual urges to yell at him and lunge for his food.

"Oh, and you know what would make my breakfast even better? You sucking my cock while I eat."

Calina eyed his member with disgusted resignation. Her spirit wanted to refuse, to call him every vile name she could think of, to try bolting for the door. Her body and her common sense told her that all of this would be futile. He would beat her again. He would enjoy it. She would be forced to suck him anyway and then he would cast her back into that chapel to dehydrate and starve to death.

"I don't want you to think I'm a monster, so if you do that little favor for me, I'll give you something to eat and drink at the end. What do you think?"

She kept her eyes cast down. This evil nobleman definitely did not want to know what she thought. 'Monster' was a wholly inadequate term for him, whether he fed her or not. Lowering her gaze meant that Calina was forced to inspect her livid bruises and tattered robe. How he could be aroused when she was battered and filthy from the chapel floor was beyond her comprehension. She knew there were men who enjoyed rape but it made no sense to her. Why would he want to take a woman who despised him? There must be plenty of high end court whores for this pampered peer to choose from, girls who would fawn over his wealth and prestige as though he was the most handsome man who ever lived.

In the end Calina simply did not trust herself to speak. She was not nearly good enough a liar to acquiesce without her intonation damning her captor to hell and beyond. Better that she just did as she was bidden and got it over with.

She rose from the floor and bent over the side of his bed. The food became even more tantalisingly close. Calina had never been a pious woman but she took a fraction of a moment to beg whatever deity might be listening to grant her that this man would soon meet a bloody, torturous and dishonourable demise.

She gingerly took hold of his member at the base and angled it towards her dry, swollen, split lips. She knew the theory of this particular carnal act but had no notion of whether that would prove sufficient. Calina sucked him slowly and gently, ensuring that the rough areas of broken skin on her lips and the sharpness of her teeth didn't touch him. She did not want to begin to contemplate what this man would do to her if she managed to pain him in such a delicate area.

Theuderic's smile did not falter in the instants she contemplated her options. At another time he might have been more interested in what she thought, but his cock was bulging and demanding attention. Besides, he had an elaborate plan for either response, and both would give him quite a lot of satisfaction. He was quite pleased, however, when she leaned over the bed to take in his member, and let out a light sigh as he watched the head slip into her bruised mouth. Why such an image aroused him didn't perturb his mind, he just enjoyed the sensation of her tongue pressing against the sensitive underside of his cock, her split lips wrapped about the shaft, a little bit of blood leaking onto his skin. Of course she wasn't an expert, not yet, at any rate; but he wasn't there to enjoy the blowjob as much as her humiliation. As soon as his cock was comfortably inside her, he pulled the tray of food close to him and picked up a piece of bread and spread some eggs over it, making a slow but great show of enjoying eating.

Chewing on his mouthful, he was annoyed to discover that the little meathole had her eyes downcast and wasn't looking at him. Surely she must be angry at him, but that would only make her degradation the sweeter. And what about Rabo not getting to eat or have sex? But Theuderic had broken his manservant so long ago that there wasn't much fun in that anymore.

"Hey!" he admonished Calina, shaking his hips and pushing his cock around in her mouth a little, "look at me," he continued stuffing a bit of honey-covered bread in his mouth. "Didn't your mum ever teach you how to suck? No wonder none of the guys wanted you. Who'd spend good money on a worthless, filthy slut that doesn't know how to give proper head?" The Prince was busily munching away as he said this to her; and regardless of what he said, he still didn't make a move to take his cock out of her mouth.

"Keep your eyes on me always, toy. You want to be damn sure I'm enjoying what you're doing, because if I'm not, not only will you not get anything to eat, but I'll beat the worthless shit out of you until I cum. And believe me, without my cock inside something, that takes quite a while. And mix it up a little bit, you know? Lick, turn your head around a little, like this..." here he added a particularly large morsel into his mouth and with one hand took a fistful of her hair at the back of her head, and used it to painfully turn her head from one side to the other, or push her up and down on his shaft. "And if I even think I feel a hint of your teeth against me, I'm going to knock them all out. You'd bee like a toothless old woman, but then you'd give really good head," he chuckled and took a draught from his flagon, "like your mum.

"Now, she really knew how to get a bloke off," he let her head go and went back to finishing his breakfast while he mused, "I'd have thought you'd turn out a better whore than you did." He grinned down at her evilly. "I guess there's always time to learn. After all, you're going to be here for the rest of your miserable life."

While he'd been going on his tirade, his pulse had quickened quite a lot, and his muscles were getting rigid. His breathing was more laboured, and his cock was throbbing in Calina's mouth. A little bit of precum oozed from the tip, and he lay back against the pillows with a sigh. True, it was her first time, and she'd only been briefly and violently introduced to the art, but it was still a blowjob. And her tongue rasping over his sensitive skin still sent shivers down into his pelvis and up his spine. He looked down into her eyes, and the faintest of smiles creased the corners of his mouth as his hips jerked slightly and he sucked in a breath.

"Hungry?" he managed a final taunt, before his breath was given over to panting. He'd had more than his share of blowjobs, and had fantasized quite a lot. But there is a big difference between memory and imagination, versus the real feeling. And the feel of her skin against his, the little smacking sounds, the bedraggled, bruised, mistreated face moving up and down his shaft, the barely concealed tits swinging backwards and forwards, feeling powerful, pleased, sated by the meal and the girl's ministrations, all combined to his most pleasurable morning to date. And he could look forward to many more as her skill improved with lots and lots of practice. The thought gave him shivers.

She might not like the last bit, so he decided to take out some insurance. He was walking that fine but infinitely joyous edge between almost and orgasm. Quickly he pulled out the dagger from under the pillow, and before the fuckhole could register her surprise, he expertly grabbed her head, holding her in place and deftly slipped the pommel of the dagger between her teeth, forcing her mouth wide and unable to close, completely oblivious to the pain it certainly would cause her. Holding her so vulnerable and at his mercy pushed him over the edge, and he forced his cock deep into the back of her throat, one hard, cruel thrust cutting off her air. His legs came up to trap her in place, her squirming and spasming flesh the stimulation he needed to keep his cock throbbing as he pumped his seed into her, forcing her to swallow every drop. He wasn't worried about her gagging or vomiting; he'd seen to it there was nothing in her stomach.

Maybe it was a minute he held her, that must have been an eternity, as his body twisted in the sheets and he let out and animalistic growl that bordered on a shout. Again and again as his cum flooded into her, in ever ebbing flows. Finally he collapsed back on the sheets and his cock slipped from her mouth. It took him a bit to get his breathing back in order before a wicked grin split his features. He was sexually sated; when not horny, a fucktoy wasn't all that appealing, and so much more worthless to him.

"Enjoy your meal?" He inquired with a hint of steel in his voice. Satisfied, it was time to get into the more business-like mode for the day. The unfeeling Prince was coming out again. He really wasn't interested however, and picked up a bit of her torn shift to wipe the drool off of his member. Then he looked up at her and slapped her backhand across the face, hard enough to twist her body away from him, and to fall on the bed just inches of away from his breakfast tray. "You can have my scraps too," he said, off hand as he pushed himself out of bed.

Rabo had kept himself as impassive and unobtrusive as possible. When ever his master was in the mood for sex, there was no telling what sort of cruel games he'd come up with. In a way, Calina was a bit of relief to the manservant, as the Prince would be directing all of his sexual urges towards her, and hopefully, he, Rabo, would be spared a bit.

As soon as Theuderic was out of bed, Rabo brought his clothes; the little diversion had taken some time, and the first bell of the day had already sounded. Slipping on his tunic, trousers and more Princely accouterments, Theuderic left his instructions for the day.

"When she's finished eating, take her back to the Chapel. I don't want her going anywhere else. Then get her cleaned up, especially between the legs. See if you can do something about those bruises

"I'll be back just before lunch. I want her chained to the altar, her hands over her head, and her legs apart. I expect there'll be a lot of hubris with all the guests and stuff, so I won't have long.

"And you!" he proffered the girl a kick, "That's how it works around here. You get to eat when you've got my cum inside you, so unless you want to starve to death, you'd better make damn sure I want to fuck you. And you can't expect me to always be so generous as to hold you in place or tie you down where I want you. I expect you to please me."

With that, he strode from the room.

Calina took on board her tormentor's advice on giving head but only because now that she had decided to submit to his will, she wanted to get him off as quickly as possible. His jibes about her mother stung, even though she knew they were almost certainly fictional. Aurelia had been quite the courtesan in her day and had commanded impressive fees but to Calina's knowledge, she had never moved in the circles that would have brought her to the attention of such an affluent noble. So Calina disregarded those jibes and concentrated on the task in hand... or mouth, as it were. She moved faster on his swollen cock and dared to suck harder.

She did not like having to hold his gaze while she sucked him. Calina was simply not adept enough at hiding her own emotions.

"I'd have thought you'd turn out a better whore than you did. I guess there's always time to learn. After all, you're going to be here for the rest of your miserable life."

Her eyes watered again at that but she would not cry. Calina pushed all thoughts and fears about the future aside. Thoughts like that would make her do something suicidally stupid, like stop sucking. She saw movement in the corner of her eye and noticed that Rabo was staring at her a little too hungrily, his eyes wide and glazed. Only one of his hands was visible and it didn't take a genius to guess what he was doing with the other one beneath his loose robes.

"Hungry?"

His hips jerked upwards, making Calina gag and successfully focusing all her attention on him. Something pushed its way between her teeth and was twisted to force them wide open. The skin at her mouthcorners felt like it was about to split and bleed. She screamed in shock and fear, a sound that was rapidly cut off as he rammed his cock down her throat. Had she not been screaming he would have needed to use more force but it was the work of a moment for him to get all the way inside her. His legs wrapped around her upper body to keep her from backing away and the most animalistic roar erupted from him as he climaxed, crammed so far down her throat that Calina never even tasted it.

She froze as he held her there, his cock pulsing and spurting. A minute passed, and then maybe a minute more. Calina felt her face purpling, her eyes bulging and her awareness fading. Still he didn't pull out. The asphyxia caused a rush of euphoric acceptance and she wondered without caring one way or the other, if his intention was to kill her. Her eyes rolled back and she was only very dimly aware when his member finally slipped from her mouth. She collapsed over the side of his bed, convulsing gently from oxygen deprivation.

"Enjoy your meal?"

The words ricocheted around her head, echoing louder and louder until she thought her skull would shatter. Calina lifted her head slightly but immediately thought better of it. She tried to focus on her tormentor and failed, he was nothing but a great looming blur. Her throat felt utterly ruined.

Perversely, the backhand across her face brought Calina back to herself with sickening lucidity. He sent her sprawling backwards across the bed. She focused on the tray, not even slightly hungry now that she had been nauseous for the better part of half an hour, dry retching onto the sick bastard's cock.

"You can have my scraps too,"

She did not react.

She watched the noble dress, if only to keep at least one eye on him. His servant was attentive and obsequious. Calina listened numbly as Rabo was given orders regarding her. The swift kick to the ribs barely registered with her. Calina was in a state of shock. Whereas his tone with Rabo had been authoritative, with her it became a contemptuous, even disgusted snarl. Calina curled her body protectively, expecting more blows.

"That's how it works around here. You get to eat when you've got my cum inside you, so unless you want to starve to death, you'd better make damn sure I want to fuck you. And you can't expect me to always be so generous as to hold you in place or tie you down where I want you. I expect you to please me."

Those words stayed with her in the hours that followed.

Rabo bowed his Master out of the room and then tossed the breakfast tray onto an uncarpeted corner of the floor. Calina gathered her wits enough to crawl over and eat what was there while Rabo straightened the bedclothes and tidied efficiently. He then approached her once more, a set of wrist cuffs in one hand and a knife in the other.

"Put your hands behind your back. Don't make me hurt you."

His tone was light and mild, as though he was commenting idly on the weather. Calina was in no doubt however, that his threat of harm was very real. She did as she was bidden, once more hating herself for obeying without even a token show of resistance. He cuffed her wrists as she knelt on the floor. He then took a fistful of Calina's hair and pitched her forwards until her face was against the cold stone floor. Rabo knelt behind her, his own erection pushed up against her barely clad asscheeks through his robes. It was a modest size in comparison to his Master's but still more than enough to terrify Calina anew.

"I don't think you're quite finished." He announced silkily. "Do not imagine that I am about to clean up after you."

He was referring to the crumbs that had been scattered when he tossed the tray from the bed. Calina grimaced and hesitated, unwilling to lick them from the floor.

"If you're going to take all day about it I shall be forced to amuse myself." He pressed himself harder against her ass. They both knew he wasn't about to take a liberty like that with his Master's new plaything but Calina didn't want to find out exactly what perks came with his job. She licked up the crumbs while he leaned over her, directing her head until the floor appeared immaculate.

He took her back through the suite of rooms to the chapel door. Calina struggled at the sight of the heavy, barred oak doorway but Rabo dug a thumb deep into the soft tissue on the inside of her forearm, finding a pressure point there that caused Calina incredible pain, but no actual harm. He pulled her tight against him, clamping a hand over her mouth while she spasmed and screamed. A deep groan escaped his lips. Rabo was clearly as aroused by pain and fear as his Master. Rabo spun her around and put her back to the door, cupping her chin with one hand to make her look at him.

"That was... well I can't honestly say regrettable, so let's go with instructive."

He kept her crowded against the door until he had unlocked it, then hustled her through ahead of him. He ripped the remains of her robe away and indicated that she should get up onto the altar once more. Calina began to cry at that, unable to bring herself to lie down and wait to be attacked again. Rabo's fingers snaked around her other bicep and she gave in before he could press on it, climbing up and lying down resignedly. He secured her ankles so that they were spread wide apart and only then uncuffed her wrists in order to secure them above her head. Only once he had fussed over his knots until Calina was stretched as though on a rack did Rabo appear satisfied. Then he left the room.

He returned with a bucket of warm water and a soft cloth. To Calina's intense embarrassment, Rabo proceeded to thoroughly wash every inch of her, even her hair. Her cuts, bruises and scrapes were painfully cleansed and then treated with some pungent paste that stung. Rabo took particular pains to ensure she was clean between her legs, even shaving there once more. He ran a fingernail up under a tiny area of flesh at the apex of her sex that made her flinch almost hard enough to cut herself on the razor in his other hand. Something other than pain flooded her... something that squirmed in the pit of her belly and then faded. He gave a low chuckle.

"You have a pretty blush for a gutter whore. I am looking forward to when Master tires of you."

Rabo regarded her pale body, glistening with water. He unfastened his robes and let them fall open, stroking himself furiously as he moved around her, admiring Calina from every angle.

"You will not tell Master of this." He informed her. "Because it is my hands into which you will fall when he is done with you."

Calina didn't know whether this was true but they both knew she was hardly likely to say anything. Rabo's expression grew savage as his face reddened. He mounted the altar, where he had left his bucket sitting between Calina's legs. He knelt over her and came into the bucket, clearly imagining violating her as his Master would that night. Once he was done he took his bucket and retreated, belting his robes tight around himself once more. At the doorway he blew out his candle and left her in darkness. The dampness of her body and hair made Calina very cold and once again she was left to her own terrified imaginings for hours on end.

She already knew that first time sex was painful at best. For her it was going to be nothing short of horrific. The air between her parted thighs dried out her pussy, abetted by her terror. Rabo's clever ropework had her back arched and her ass lifted. Her short stature meant that her ass barely touched the cold stone beneath her. It was taxing in the extreme and her limbs quickly became painfully numbed.