Author's note: Strong language, certain feats may not be "realistic". Enjoy!
Nessa woke up in a cold sweat.
The room was dark. A bucket was in front of her, as are a few old pieces of bread. A dark bag lay indistinctly across the room, as well as a few chains seemingly hanging from the ceiling.
There was a cold breeze wafting over her bare feet, and suddenly the slave remembered that she was naked. Sitting up, she banged her head against a metal bar, sending her back down with a smack. The girl stifled a curse.
She was in a cage!
Everything came flooding back. The assassin, her kidnapping... it had all happened so fast. One moment she was returning from a scouting run to the inner district, the other being dominated by someone from, appropriately, Dominia.
And now she was in a cage. After some effort, she was able to shift her weight off her left leg. The cage was not very large, and eventually forced her to assume a kneeling, almost dog-like position, frustrating and humiliating her further. How had she gotten herself into this? What was wrong with her? Was she that horny? Did she truly mean what she said? Nessa cradled her head, remembering what she said in the inn: "DADDY FUCK ME" ... could that be all that she was in the end?
She did not have time to think further, for at that moment, the door opened, and the true gravity of her predicament was revealed.
With the opening, light streamed into the room, and with a gasp, Nessa now saw what was to become of her.
They were in a dungeon. She could spot several conventional torture instruments, as well as some ... strange new devices she was yet unfamiliar with.
Clanging boots. She turned her gaze back to the door. It was the assassin from the other day, or as he introduced himself as... the Lord General Malachar?
"Good Evening Slave. I heard the noise." He looked approvingly at the position the girl had assumed. "Acclimating quickly to your new life, eh?" He chuckled. "It's been some time since we've had a slave girl as talented as you. You will enjoy your... ah... permanent stay here." The man smiled.
Staring at the man in front of her now, Nessa was reminded in truth of why she was here. The moment the General started speaking, she was again enraptured by his deep, masculinity, accentuating her already humiliating feelings of submissiveness.
Once again, she had no idea why she was feeling this way, but all she knew was that she wanted that cock again. She could see the glorious thing, making a dent in his trousers. She could see why the Aeternians called it "The Soul's Expression."
"What do you want from me?" She rasped.
His expression hardened. "Nevertheless, I see you still have much to learn. From now on, you will refer to me as 'sir,' 'daddy,' or 'master,' and yourself as 'slave,' 'this one,' 'this slave,' or something equivalent, understood?"
She meekly nodded. What else could she do in this state? Her body was sore from resting naked on cold iron all day.
Smiling again, the general took out a short paddle. Seeing the slave eye it apprehensively, he put it aside. "That will be for later, fearful one." He swapped it for a leash and collar instead, and stepped forward, brandishing it at her.
"You will wear this at all times, and it will be your only permanent article of clothing, along with whatever else I decide to put on your body, understood?"
Again, she nodded, more in fear and awe than approval.
