My heavy head spun as I strained to open my eyes, revealing a dark stone room. I strained to make out exactly where I was, but could only barely see dark iron bars a few feet in front of me. In a panic, I tried to stand up and escape, but my attempt was met with sharp pains in my wrists, ankles, and neck. My arms and legs were chained to a nearby wall with iron bindings, and a heavy metal collar bound my neck to a ring on the floor. To add to my surprise, I was completely naked, my body apparently shaved. I looked down to find a further surprise, my cock and balls were caged in some kind of metal contraption as well.
As my vision began to recover and my head slowly stopped spinning, I began to recall the situation that had led to my sudden and unfortunate imprisonment. I used to work on a small farm outside of the local castle, growing crops to feed the ruling Queen and her court. Starving, I had been secretly keeping a small amount of food for myself, but eventually the Queen's tax collectors uncovered my scheme and I found myself in front of the court. I was found guilty almost immediately and sentenced to death by poison in that very courtroom. They forced a concoction down my throat, and I had assumed my life was to end in that room. Clearly, this was not the case.
Whatever the court had drugged me with must have been a sedative, as I was apparently very much alive, outside of a splitting headache. I weakly moaned, and struggled against my bindings to no avail. What fate awaited me in this mysterious prison, and why did the court fake my death penalty? If only I could break free, perhaps I could find out, and even inform others of what was going on here. I pulled harder at the chains this time, and the loud ring of iron hitting stone echoed throughout the dank cell. Still, nothing changed, and in my extreme weakness perhaps my efforts would continue to prove futile. I tried my best to not consider this, and continued my vain struggle.
Before long, my racket seemed to attract some attention. Footsteps hit hard and angrily against the stone floor in the distance. I struggled further, my wrists and ankles burning as the hard unforgiving metal ground against my soft skin. I knew I had to escape before those footsteps reached me. My clanking grew louder, and my body cried out as I wrenched myself in every possible direction, but the chains held fast. The footsteps grew closer, and suddenly stopped.
I looked up, my eyes finally used to the darkness. Towering above me was a scowling woman, clad in heavy armor, and behind her a similarly upset man. The woman's long auburn hair flowed down the shoulders of her breastplate, adding a somewhat elegant aire to her otherwise powerful frame. The man was gruff, a bit overweight, and his short hair betrayed the story of a man who cared little for the rigors of maintaining appearances.
The woman took a step forward, and spoke.
"Silence," she commanded. "You are property of her majesty, the Queen, and no amount of foolish racket you make down here will change that."
The man remained behind her, seemingly bored.
"Property?" I asked, suddenly confused.
The question was met with a swift kick to my chest with the woman's metal boot. The chains rattled from the impact, still refusing to give up any ground.
"You do not speak unless you are commanded to do so," the woman ordered. "The Queen has claimed you as her permanent property restitution for stealing from her. Consider yourself lucky, you are worth far less than the food you stole."
I was shocked, and nearly spoke out to protest, the only thing stopping me being the throbbing pain in my chest, a reminder of the consequences of doing so.
The woman continued. "Your particular sentence is to be installed as a permanent service fixture in the castle. There is no commuting your sentence, and nobody you knew previously in your life will ever hear from you again. If the Queen deems it, you may be rotated to another position, but generally this unique sentence is unchanging."
The woman then nodded, and the man stepped forward, the previously unseen keys on his belt jingling. He bent over, and undid the bindings on my ankles and wrists. I breathed a sigh of release as my raw, aching appendages were finally able to breathe. My body, however, was still useless due to whatever they had drugged me with. I collapsed onto the floor, and the unknown man sighed in annoyance. Without hesitation, he grabbed me and threw me over his broad shoulders, and began to carry me out of the cell.
I considered trying to make another mistake, but I could barely muster the strength. I uselessly flailed briefly as the duo began to take me out of the dungeon, and up the stairs into the castle above. My injured chest ached with each step, further reminding me of the horrors of my predicament. I had no idea what it meant to be "installed as a fixture", and really, really did not want to find out. My eyes frantically scanned the stairwell for anything I could use to escape, but I found nothing but smooth stone as we continued our painful ascent.
Before long, the bare stone gave way to carpeting, torches, and various other decorations befitting an ornate castle. My eyes struggled to get used to the bright light as we entered a long, wide castle corridor. My captors seemed uninterested in me still, and we made our way down the hall towards our unknown destination. Various serving staff scurried by, paying me no attention, seemingly having seen this routine before. I tried to signal them with my eyes, hoping to trigger some form of pity or any other reaction, but none would even look at me, which I considered a bad sign.
The journey continued for a few more minutes, until we suddenly stopped in front of a fancy carved wooden door. I had never seen such an ornate door in my life as a farmer, and wondered if it would sell for more money than I would ever see in my life. My stomach dropped upon thinking about this, however, remembering that my life would likely never resume, at least in the way I had originally planned.
The woman stepped forward and used a key to unlock the door, opening it for the man carrying me. The room itself was far nicer than the prison cell, although it was not any larger. The floor was carpeted, and torches lit the walls. The damp, dank smell was also not present, which was a relief. My captor tossed me casually to the floor, and his compatriot stepped forward.
"This room is where you will be installed for use by the Queen and her guests," she began. "Any attempts at leaving will be punished severely by me personally."
I nodded, knowing better at this point than to speak.
"If you look around, the various implements of your service can be found," she continued. "You may not reject their use or deny any request made of you. Again, you are property of the Queen, and nothing more."
