Athelnia

I had been given twenty four hours in which to consider the offer that Lady Athelnia had made to me. Although it seemed like an easy decision to make I nevertheless availed myself of that period of time. For one thing I did not wish to compromise my position by appearing to accept things too readily. It was therefore with my mind virtually made up that I knelt before her on the following day.

"Have you come to a decision slave?"

I looked up into her emerald eyes, they were bewitching. I felt myself coming under her spell every time we met. I thought it wise however to at least go through the motions of making an informed choice.

"May I be permitted to enquire as to the details of these hunts, before I make my final decision?"

Her smile was wistful but inscrutable as she began a brief explanation.

"You will be allowed a period of time in which to make your initial escape. Your aim will then be to avoid recapture for as long a period as possible. Success will bring privileges. But of course failure must also bring penalties. Should you be recaptured within the period of time specified then there would be some element of punishment. In this way you will have sufficient motivation to avoid capture. In this way the hunt will be guaranteed to be entertaining."

In a way her proposal was a bit like a sporting contest whilst also offering the slight prospect of escape. I knew from my trips on a fishing boat in my youth that beyond the wide sweep of the bay that I had seen on the previous day there was another of similar proportions. After that was a heavily forested area that formed an indistinct border between our two provinces. Should I be able to make it that far it would be a fairly simple matter to regain my homeland. The forested area was regarded as a natural buffer by both provinces and not regularly patrolled by either.

I looked up at Lady Athelnia, speaking clearly. "Mistress, I accept your offer."

She smiled somewhat enigmatically.

"Slave, follow me."

I was led out into the courtyard, towards a low outbuilding that nestled within the castle wall. This was her personal stable block where the grey stallion that had been her mount on the day of the auction was kept, as well as several other horses. But it was not the horses that I had been brought to see. I was led to the rear of the block where a heavy oak door gave access to a staircase that descended below ground level. Wall sconces held flickering candles and the air gained a distinct chill as we went deeper beneath ground level.

"This is the original part of the castle. It was much smaller when it was built almost three hundred years ago."

We reached the bottom of the staircase. Another heavy timber door now barred our way, set with iron studs and massive hinges. Athelnia took a taper and opened the door, which swung open reluctantly with a loud creaking sound. Using the taper she lit several more candles inside the room, the purpose of which became unmistakable.

"This was the old castle's torture chamber. When it was first built torture was still the accepted practice in the province. It was a normal part of the interrogation process whenever prisoners were taken. But then it was realised how futile it was. Prisoners would tell you whatever they thought you wanted to hear whilst under duress. It was outlawed at the end of the last century."

As the candles illuminated the room a shudder ran through my body as I imagined the practices that this place had seen unfold within its confines. I felt the cold stones of the dungeon floor beneath my feet, an iron hook on chains suspended from the vaulted stone ceiling high above me. I could almost hear the screams of the torturer's victims as all manner of unspeakable atrocities were inflicted upon them. The place now stood silent, the flickering of the candle flames the only movement. I cast my eyes around. In one corner a rusting iron body cage, its hinged door hanging open as if ready to receive its next victim. In front of me a wall rack still displayed various pieces of equipment, designed for the restriction or torture of the human body.

I felt Lady Athelnia watching my reaction to the surroundings, no doubt wondering if I might be spooked by the atmosphere and the sinister threat of the place. I considered that this might be some kind of psychology intended to undermine and further her control of me. I felt a determination to see through this deep fear rising within me. I would accept her challenge head on and become her prey The clear implication of her showing me this place was that it was where I would end up should my performance not match her expectations. it was a thought that filled me with a heady mix of fear and excitement. I was both looking forward to, and dreading, our first hunt.

"I like to come here occasionally. I think our history is important. It makes us what we are. Some feel that torture is a shameful part of our past. That may well be the case...I don't know."

The following afternoon I stood within the castle courtyard. Lady Athelnia had ordered me to be there when the clock struck five. The early autumn air was still warm at this time of day. A door opened and my mistress appeared, strutting purposefully towards where one of her grooms held the reins of the pale grey stallion. Her auburn hair had been tied into a tight knot on the back of her head lending her a rather more stern appearance than her usual style, telling of her intention of riding to hunt rather than merely for leisure.

In her right hand she held a riding crop, a longer, rather vicious looking braided leather bullwhip coiled and tucked into her wide leather belt. What really set my heart racing however was her hunting outfit. Crafted from the finest black leather it fitted her slim, firm body to perfection, highlighting every curve of her feminine shape. Tight lacing at the thighs ensured a skin tight fit below the waist whilst the laced bodice confined her neat breasts to provide a noticeable cleavage. Laced knee length riding boots and black leather gloves completed the outfit to perfection. The overall effect was to make me desire her in a manner that a slave can never hope to make reality. The metal cage confining my manhood reminded me of my position as the rush of blood attempted to stoke this raging desire.

Prior to mounting her horse she walked around the patiently waiting animal, carefully checking all the tack as well as the contents of the leather saddle bags. She was ensuring that the equipment she would need after my anticipated capture was present and in order. She positively oozed the confidence that she would win the forthcoming contest, The ropes and shackles that she envisaged restraining me with after I had been hunted down were examined and appeared to pass muster. It was an outcome that I had already mentally accepted. The first hunt would be where I would seek to discover the lie of the surrounding lands with a view to a potential escape attempt at some future point.

Lady Athelnia settled herself into the saddle, making herself comfortable before guiding her mount across the courtyard to stand before me. I looked up at her as she towered above me. A look of inscrutable superiority masked any excitement she might be feeling. I had no doubt that I was in the company of a most remarkable woman. Her pale complexion complemented perfectly her neatly tied auburn hair. Her skin had an almost alabaster hue, unlike most of the general population who tended towards swarthiness. Finely arched eyebrows lent a hint of cruelty to her emerald eyes that now bore down on me, regarding me as a mere creature that existed solely for her amusement, to be used or discarded in any way she chose.

"I shall explain to you the rules of the hunt. You will follow them to the letter, do you understand?"

Her voice had taken on a coldness now, quite unlike how it had been during the course of our earlier conversations. I understood that this was part of the process, she was getting herself into the role of huntress. I would expect no mercy from this woman once the hunt was under way.

"When you hear the clock in the tower strike for the three quarter hour the gate will be opened and you will be released You have until the clock strikes the hour to make good your escape before I begin my pursuit. You may run in whichever direction you choose and hide wherever you think offers the best concealment. But I warn you I am a skilled and experienced tracker so do not imagine for a moment that evading me will be an easy task. Sunset will occur just over two hours after your release, that is your target. I expect you to provide me with a good, exciting hunt. Should it turn out to be too easy and you are captured quickly you will incur my displeasure and your punishment will be more severe. That thought should remain with you and encourage you to put up a good performance. Now you should move towards the gate for your release."

Taking my cue I made my way across to the gate. The chains rattled as it rose when the clock began to strike. Once outside I again took in the sweeping vista of cliffs, beach and seashore spread out before me. The wide expanse of golden sand studded with tufts of marram grass led down to the foreshore where the fast receding tide was leaving the many moored fishing boats high and dry on the beach. Quickly I weighed up my options. Hiding within the deep foliage immediately outside the castle keep was a possibility that I considered but rejected as being far too obvious. Being captured at an early stage and failing to provide the excitement that she craved from the hunt would undoubtedly upset my mistress and bring a harsher punishment, quite possibly within the deserted torture chamber.

The next possibility to enter my head were the timber mooring pillars and the fishing boats. Both offered possibilities to secrete myself. The problem that quickly manifested itself however was that crossing the sand would inevitably leave footprints that would lead an experienced tracker like my mistress directly to my hiding place. Bearing this in mind I decided against that strategy also.

It was then that I spotted the small wooded area high on the promontory of the bay to my left. It was difficult to judge the distance and therefore to tell if I might reach this within the time I had available. The possibilities that it offered for concealment meant that it was probably worth a try. My next problem was how to get there. Wending my way through the marram grass would be slow compared to a sprint along the seashore, a route that would surely leave clear, easy to track footprints. Nevertheless either course would be pointless should I be apprehended before I made any sort of cover. I could see the trees tantalisingly situated atop the beetling cliffs of the promontory in the distance. I made my way quickly down the steep track leading onto the beach.

The tide had turned some three hours previously, the nearest fishing boats standing just clear of the water. I made the shoreline quickly and began running along the hard strip of sand along the water's edge. I decided that I would run until I heard the striking of the clock before seeking cover in the marram grass until I could make the wooded area where I intended to hide. When the first sound of the clock reached me I quickly cut into the dunes. I was panting heavily now and almost exhausted I settled down to regain my composure before continuing. From my hidden position I watched as the grey horse galloped onto the sands. To my dismay I saw that it turned immediately in my direction. My mistress seemed to have picked up on my direction of travel with consummate ease. Now I had another decision to make. I either stayed where I was and tried to hide or made a break for the wooded area, certainly exposing my position and taking a chance that I might make cover before she could overhaul me. With barely a moment's thought I came to a decision.

I got to my feet and began sprinting towards the long slope that led towards the trees. My legs ached and my breath came in laboured, desperate pants as I now approached the first outcrop of rock that marked the promontory. Throwing myself to the ground, quite unsure of how close my pursuer was, I lay breathless for a time listening for the approach of her horse. As seconds passed I realised that she was further away than I had at first thought and had probably not seen my exact hiding place. I pressed myself closer to the ground, on the very edge of the wood. I tried to make myself part of the very undergrowth. I grabbed handfuls of fern leaves and tried to cover my body with their copious, luxuriant foliage. I lay absolutely still. listening to the approaching horse grow closer, able now to hear its snortsas Athelnia entered the area. Next came the sound of her long, heavy bullwhip. She had drawn it from her belt and was using it to methodically beat down the leaves as she rode through searching for her quarry.

Reaching the end of the section she turned and began a return sweep, the whip loud within the relative silence of the wood. Every stroke of the whip made me wince, imagining the effect it might have on my naked flesh, something that I guessed I might well discover when i was finally, an inevitably, captured. The outcome of the hunt was closer than I realised. At the end of her next sweep Athelnia dismounted, tethering her horse to the trunk of a tree. From my present position I was unable to see clearly, I supposed that she was just taking a break. Minutes ticked by. We were now too far from the castle to hear the striking of the clock. I guessed that well over an hour must have elapsed since the start of the hunt. Lying completely motionless I began to relax a little, it was a relaxation that would end badly. The first I knew of the denouement of the hunt was sound of a cracking twig somewhere behind me. Virtually instantly I felt a weight on my back as a boot pressed me into the ground, the sharp point of a blade touching the base of my neck.

"Arms behind your back slave!"

Realising that the game was up I did as she ordered. Dropping down she straddled my body with her thighs, so close now that the sweet aroma of leather filled my nostrils. I felt the roughness of the rope encircling my wrists and being cinched tight. Within seconds I was very securely bound.

"A passable first effort I suppose, but you were easy to track."

I I was pulled to my feet and led to her horse. Taking fetters and manacles from one of the saddle bags I was quickly chained for the journey back to the castle. She rode at a good walking pace, my mistress high and proud before me in the saddle, the last of the evening sun reflecting on her black leather boots and glinting on her silver spurs, my collar attached to her saddle by a leash.

Arriving back at the castle Lady Athelnia dismounted and untied me from her horse. A servant arrived to take it back to the stable while I was led towards the staircase leading down to the old dungeon. once inside and released from my shackles I was taken over to the heavy timber cross, forming a large "X" and mounted on the wall. Soon its wide leather straps secured all four of my limbs, another encircling my waist, binding me close to the cross. My face was inches from the wall, my naked back and buttocks now exposed as she had removed my shorts. Her boots clicked on the floor as she crossed to the wall rack to choose the implement that she would use on me.

"This is a lovely whip, my favourite."

I moved my head sideways. She was drawing the tail of a heavy brown leather whip lovingly between her gloved fingers. She stroked it as one might a pet, feeling its weight as she teased its shaft once more before letting it fall.

"Brought back by one of our brave explorers from a place far away, the people there use them to drive their animals, apparently they are the only whips capable of being felt through a thick hide. I am quite sure that you appreciate that."

Her boots moved away towards the centre of the dungeon.

"You put up a very creditable performance tonight. I was pleased with you. I think you show talent and will give me much entertainment. I was intending that you should receive fifty strokes, but you have earned a reduction. You will receive twenty five."

She moved back to stand beside me once more. She had folded the whip into a circle and now placed it before my face.

"You will kiss the whip to show your respect for both it and your mistress."

I placed my lips against the cool leather and did as I was commanded. She moved into a position behind me. I flinched involuntarily as she tested the whip with a few air strokes. A short, tense silence followed before the first, savage crack preceded the explosion of pain that caused my screams to reverberate around the dungeon, screams that certainly did nothing to reduce my mistress' unremitting enthusiasm as she delivered the ensuing two dozen, punctuated by little gasps of pleasure, generated by the feelings from somewhere deep inside her that ensured that each stroke matched in intensity the one before it.

To be continued.