Arina the Sorceress

I blinked my eyes, trying to get my bearings. The room was dark, lit only by flickering torches on the dark, damp stone walls. The air was heavy, almost misty, and the sound of a scream filtered through the moist air to me, as if from a long distance.

Wondering out loud where I was, I was surprised to hear only a muffled sounds from my lips. I glanced down and realized I was bare breasted, and something white and soft was shoved into my mouth. My top I realized, torn from my body and used to silence me. Worse, I couldn't move my arms or legs. I looked up, and saw my wrists encased in wooden stocks, suspended from the ceiling by a pair of chains. My heart pounded as I looked back down, and saw my ankles in leather bindings, attached to wooden stakes that protruded from the stone floor. They were far enough apart that I couldn't stand up straight, my legs were spread so wide. What was happening? I began to struggle, making muffling sounds as I twisted about on the wooden stocks.

"Well, look who's finally with us," said a voice behind me, a strangely familiar voice. I jumped, craning my head to see a powerfully built man lumbering toward me from behind. My memory was fuzzy, but the sight of him frightened me to the bone. The man looked evil. He was bare from the waist up, without the protruding belly I'd always imagined a torturer would have. I realized I was dressed only in a tiny skirt, and with my thighs spread wide, it barely covered me. I struggled frantically as the man walked toward me.

"I've been waiting for you," said the cruel-faced man, moving around to stand in front of me. "I've got some special toys I've been saving for our newest slave girl."

I shook my head, protesting into the gag. What was he talking about? I wasn't a slave, I was a . . . what was I, I couldn't remember? Like a fine mist swirling about my brain, I couldn't remember anything but the last few moments. But I couldn't be a slave, there must be some mistake. I shook my head again.

"Oh yes," he nodded, a cruel grin an affront as his dark eyes moved down my curves. "Only a natural born slave could possess such a body." He began a slow walk around me, taking in my heaving breasts, my taut widespread thighs and shapely ass clenched with fear. My dark, silky hair fell across my bare shoulders in a disheveled mess.

I craned my neck to see him where he stood behind me, and he laughed at the sight of my eyes wide in confusion and terror. "No worries," he said in a mock sympathetic voice, "all will be made clear to you soon. You will be taught to revel in your slavery, and your only desire will be to please those you call 'master.'"

At the sound of that word, I felt a strange shock ripple through my body that drew a soft muffled cry from my throat.

"Yes," nodded the slaver in approval, "you have learned well. Your body burns at hearing the word, master!"

His drew out the word in a suggestive manner, and my body shivered with burning arousal, my thighs jerking slightly, wanting to close, but restrained by the leather straps on my ankles. I shook my head in denial of the way that simple word triggered a powerful reaction from my body. This wasn't possible.

My shock only increased when I saw that the slaver was untying his leather belt, and then I gasped as he pulled out his manhood right in front of me. I averted my eyes at the shocking sight, but he only laughed, and grabbed me by the hair, forcing me to look at it. His cock was large, and only half erect, pointing toward me in a slight arc. I whimpered, shaking my head.

"Now we will see how well you've learned your lessons," he said, his hot breath on my face. "You will take me in your lovely mouth, and pleasure me until I pump my seed down your tender throat. And if you do it well, I'll reward you with proper service, bent over that table there."

My legs felt weak, and if not for the bindings, I might have collapsed. My head was tossing back and forth, and whimpered pleas emanated from my throat. How could he be so cruel, to force me to do such a thing, only to reward me afterwards with an even greater violation.

"You can refuse of course," he said, "And then I will whip your bare ass until you beg me to stop." His hand moving idly to caress my bare breast then, his fingers taking note of my nipples, tight in fear. "Only it won't end for you there, for then I'll whip your lovely melons until you pass out."

The look in his eyes spoke of great cruelty; he would enjoy whipping me, I could see it in his eyes. He wanted me to refuse. Nothing could have terrified me more. I shook my head violently, and I tried to assure him through my gag that I would be obedient, he didn't have to punish me. I was a slave, who was shown no mercy. In a slave's world, either I was obedient and eager, or I would be punished terribly.

"Ah yes, you remember the whip I see?" he answered. "You will be a good girl, and pleasure me with your mouth, and your body?"

The shame was almost unbearable, and I hesitated only a moment, before nodding, a tear falling down my cheek. And yet my great humiliation only grew when the slaver leaned his head back and bellowed a laugh that echoed off the stone walls of my prison. I leaned my head down so I didn't have to look at him.

Then I heard a metallic sound, and his hand came to grab a fistful of my hair. The wooden stocks that held my wrists were lowering, and the beast was using his hand to force my torso down until my head was at the level of his crotch. I whimpered as I saw his cock dangling before me, looking so much larger this close. Both of his hands went to my head, and he was removing the gag, drawing a cough from my lips as I sucked in fresh air. Then he tilted my head up so I could see him looking down at me.

"Now then, do your best, my little slave." He looked at me for a moment, then gave me a cruel grin. He seemed to enjoy my humiliation and shame. "Who would have believed you were once a powerful, brave sorceress? Now look at you, lowly slave, begging to take my cock into your mouth."

My breath caught in my throat, and I watched helplessly as he took his swollen member in his other hand and began to guide my mouth toward it. Could there be a greater shame than what was about to befall me, at my own request? Yet what had he said? I was still thinking about his words . . . brave sorceress? Had I been someone else, before this, before the dark, musty room, my chains. . . . suddenly, it all came flooding back to me . . . and I screamed and screamed.

********************

"No, no!" I screamed, beating against his chest with my small fists.

"Karina, wake up!" said the voice, first far away, then closer and closer. "Wake up, it's just a dream!" Finally I opened my eyes and sat up. I was . . . . in a bright clean room, as far from a dungeon as could be. I turned, and saw a pair of deep green eyes looking at me with great concern. Alex. He looked handsome as ever, and the relief flooded through me like a wave.

"You were having a nightmare," he said soothingly, his hand gently rubbing my hair. "It's alright now, you're safe here with me."

Keeping the sheet against my chest, I leaned in to hug myself to him, my head resting against his shoulder while he rubbed the back of my neck. My heart was still pounding, but slowly it subsided as the terror of my dream dissipated, and I relaxed in his strong arms.

Finally I leaned back and looked into his eyes. He could see the lingering fear left over from my nightmare.

"What could scare my brave little sorceress so?" he asked quietly, in a serious voice. "You were screaming. And my chest hurts where you were pounding me!" He winked at me as he rubbed his chest where I'd apparently been hitting him.

"Was I?" I murmured, blushing slightly. "I'm sorry, it's just . . . I dreamt that I was a slave. And I didn't even know who I was!" I looked at him. "I wasn't brave in my dream. I was . . . a coward."

Alex leaned in to kiss my forehead. "That should have told you it was a dream, silly girl," he said. "The Karina I know was brave enough to enter a demon's cave by herself.

I cracked a smile, and poked him in the chest. "Not brave, dummy, I was foolhardy. I didn't know it was a demon's cave."

"That's more like the girl I know," said Alex, approving of my lift in spirits. Then I saw the glint in his eye. "Now tell me, what kind of slave were you in your dream? A pleasure slave I bet!"

"Hey!" I scolded, "Don't joke, it was terrible! There was this torturer . . . he was an ugly bastard. And he made me . . . he was about to make me do terrible things."

Alex looked at me with glint in his eye made me want to smack him. "Hmm, terrible things you say? Is that why your face is flushed? If you're not careful, you might poke holes in that sheet."

"What are you talking about? I---" Suddenly I realized what he meant, and I glanced down to see the little points in the sheet at the center of my breasts. I gasped, my face burning. "You!" I wailed. "Don't make fun of me!"

He only smiled at my embarrassment, making a show of putting his hand to his chin in thought. Somehow I knew his next words were going to annoy me. "You know, Karina, sometimes we fear something because deep down we desire it."

I gasped, and immediately raised my arm to slap him, only he caught my forearm easily before I could teach him a lesson. I would have used my other hand, but it had a more important task of holding the sheet to my chest. Alex had seen me naked already, but that hadn't been of my choosing. He continued to hold my arm in the air, so I resorted to words. "Well I don't fear or desire you, why don't you interpret that!" I retorted.

"What if the torturer hadn't been an ugly bastard, but had been me instead, hmm?" As he spoke, Alex leaned over sideways to lie on the bed, and he pulled me down with him. I found myself laying next to him, my one arm over my head, and the other hand stubbornly gripping the sheet which was all that now stood between us. He grinned at me, his face now not far from mine.

"Who said you're not an ugly bastard?" I responded, trying to pull my arm from his grip. I wasn't a weak woman, but I found I couldn't even budge his muscular arm, and I found that fact slightly intoxicating.

Alex was arranging his legs so he was comfortable on the bed next to me. He leaned toward me a bit, and I rolled back, keeping the distance between us. He followed me anyway. "So you don't find me attractive?" he said, his face now over mine, looking down at me.

"Not in the least!" I lied, averting my eyes with a blush. He chuckled, which only heightened the heat in my cheeks. Being this close to a man I found so attractive was making me feel awkward and nervous. I don't know what idea he was getting about me, but I had to stop it. "I . . . I think I'll get up now," I murmured, the words sounding awkward.

"No, you won't," he said, his commanding words sending a tiny thrill through me. "Not until I've determined if you're lying to me." Then his free hand came to my wrist, the one holding the sheet tightly against my chest below my neck. Gently but firmly, he removed my hand from its death grip on the sheet, leaving the sheet covering me, but pulling my hand up above my head.

"W-what are you doing?" I questioned, as he used his left hand to grip both my wrists and keep them above my head. I pulled against his grip, but shockingly he was able to restrain both my wrists with just one hand, and I had little leverage while lying on my back on the soft bed. Alex for his part, ignored my pulling, and used his free hand to slide the sheet a bit and expose a portion of my belly. My breasts were still covered, but the cool air on my tummy made me shiver slightly. Or perhaps it was the touch of Alex's free hand on my flesh, just above the navel.

"Alex," I said, part plea and part protest, as his hand began to make gentle, light circles on my belly, exploring and touching as he moved about.

"Your skin is beautifully soft," he said, his voice nonchalant despite what he was doing. And what was he doing, I wondered? His touch was so light, it almost tickled, and yet I found myself twitching slightly as his fingers seem to heighten my senses. "And very sensitive," he added, making me blush again.

"Alex, that tickles," I murmured, trying to lie still as his touches wandered about my belly, moving down to just where my panties would have started, if I'd been wearing any. I was acutely aware of how close his hand was to the dull ache of my sex, which had seen so much abuse the day before. I tried to push that thought out of my head.

"Tell me, Karina," said Alex, speaking to me as if we were casually sipping tea. "do you have this dream often, the one where you're a pleasure slave?"

"No!" I protested, a little too strongly. "I mean, this is the first time." It was true, in a fashion. I'd had recurring dreams where I was being chased by men, their faces dark in shadow, and often I was naked, and terrified of what they might do if they caught me. Last night was different, and far more graphic. I was about to tell him that, but changed my mind. "Hey, I don't have to answer these questions, you know!"

"Is that so?" said Alex. I was about to respond in the positive, but I twitched, for his hand had wandered up my body to touch the bottom of my breast. The feather-light touches of his fingers began to encircle the outer part of first one breast and then the other, while I was too shocked to say anything. His touch was electric underneath the sheet, and I was strangely glad I could not see his hand.

But I could feel it, his fingers moving in slow circles, moving closer to my nipple. Before I could realize what he was doing, his fingers took possession of one sensitive nipple, and squeezed firmly.

"Oh!" I gasped, shocked at how sensitive my flesh had become. "What are you doing?" I demanded. Yet I knew what he was doing, only I didn't know if he was just teasing me, or was it more? I half expected the ring to activate inside me, but it was still dormant, as if Alex didn't desire me. Which was strange considering what his hand was doing, moving around toward my other nipple. Before he could touch that one, I burst out, guessing what he wanted. "Ok, stop! I'll answer your questions, please . . ask away!" If he didn't desire me, and was just prying for information, I'd give it to him.

The fingers stopped short of my nipple, instead continued their slow exploration of the curve of my breast. My relief was short lived, for I found my chest was still heaving slightly from his touches, and my body seemed to be getting even more sensitive. I couldn't understand why that would be, when he was avoiding my sensitive spots. His hand seemed to lose interest in my breasts, and was wandering up the curve of my shoulders, his fingers feather touches sliding up to explore my neck. I trembled as my body came alive, and I jolted when a finger slipped into my ear.

"Alex!" I giggled, as his exploring fingers moved about, looking for sensitive spots to tickle, "what are you doing? Aren't you going to ask me questions?"

His head leaned down toward my chest suddenly, and I drew in a sharp breath as I felt warm air blowing on my nipple. He lifted his head, but his hand replaced it, again trailing light caresses on the swell of my breast.

"Very well, Karina," he said, my name sounding so charming coming from his lips. "how many lovers have you had in your bed?"

"Alex, that's none of your business!" I replied, scandalized.

His fingers brushed against my other nipple, as if by accident. "I . . . do I really have to—hey—ok, I'll answer it. I've had . . . just one—oh! No s-stop, it's the truth! The son of the sorcerer who taught me my craft. I was supposed to marry him, but I ran away, because . . ."

A fingernail flicked one of my now swelling nipples, and I made a soft noise in my throat, struggling against the hands that kept me there, divulging my sordid past while my poor abused body was teased by a man I desired. Before he could do it again, I babbled on.

"He was a cruel and selfish lover, interested only in his own pleasure," I explained. "I found our lovemaking . . . very frustrating. Perhaps it was my fault, for he complained that I was not capable of . . . of . . ."

"Climaxing?" offered Alex. My look confirmed his guess, and he shook his head. "I think we both know that isn't true."

I think my whole body reddened at that reminder of what Alex had done to me the night before, with just his fingers. At that moment, Alex decided to squeeze my nipple, and a moan escaped my lips before I could stifle it. That burning deep inside me was returning, slowly but surely, me helpless to stop it.

I was having trouble lying still, I realized, as Alex hand slid down to resume caressing my lower belly. What had before been tolerable, now began to drive me crazy, as his fingers explored the soft, sensitive flesh around my hips, so close to my warming sex, and yet so far. My breath caught in my throat for a moment as I wondered if his hand would touch me there, in that heated place, but Alex just continued his gentle teasing. All the while the young man seemed completely calm, while I found myself breathing heavily, my breasts rising and falling against the ever so light touches of his magic fingers.

"So you ran away," he continued, catching me off guard, for I'd almost forgot our conversation.

"Y-yes, at the urgings of my master, the sorcerer and my lover's father. I endured my lover's cruelty for many months, until he'd started hitting me. That I couldn't take, so I left him, without so much as a note. And once I was gone, I couldn't believe I ever tolerated him."

"Loyal and brave," said Alex, approval in his voice. Then he smiled. "How about you and the old man in the pointy hat? Did he ever . . . try a little love magic on you?"

"Of course not, you bastard!" I laughed. "He was a very sweet man, but I think . . . maybe I wasn't his type."

Alex laughed out loud at that comment, though I wasn't sure what was funny about what I'd said. I tried to think, but Alex's touches never ceased, and I found it impossible to concentrate.

"How about the demon?" said Alex, changing the subject. "Did he . . . force himself on you?"

I remembered the ring, and why the demon had given it to me. "Not exactly," I said, wondering if I should tell Alex about the ring. But if I did, helpful guy that he was, he might try to remove it for me. I blushed at that thought, and Alex smiled. He seemed to enjoy seeing me blush. "The demon cast a spell on me, one that . . . made it difficult to refuse the touches of men." I looked at him suddenly, "It's worn off, don't look at me like that."

It wasn't really the truth, but it would do. Alex was smiling. "Maybe it hasn't. You still seem to have trouble refusing my touch."

"Alex!" I gasped, looking away in embarrassment as his fingers drew another shiver out of me.

Then his smile disappeared, "But you're lying, I can tell. You're a terrible liar. There's something you're not telling me. What is it?"

My eyes widened in surprise, and I looked away, then looked back when I realized that must have looked suspicious. Shaking his head, Alex suddenly began pinching and pulling my tender nipples, his roughness contrasting sharply with his early gentleness. I felt ripples shockwaves moving down between my thighs, which clenched together. "Please, stop! I . . . I told you everything—oh, s-stop that!"

"No, there's something the demon did to you. You don't have to tell me, I'll just keep doing this to you. I can do this for hours I think. Look at how big your little nipples are getting!"

I choked on a moan, my breasts arching against him. I knew I was done, I couldn't last another minute with his hand touching and teasing me like that. "Ok, ok, please s-stop that, I'll tell you!" I babbled. He stopped tormenting me, and I sighed gratefully when his hand ceased, resting casually on my breast. "He . . . he put something inside me. A terrible device."