The door burst open, and three men poured into the room. I recognized one man as the manager of the establishment, a short, gray-haired, tough-looking fellow. "Are you ok, miss?" he demanded. Then he did a double take, seeing me dressed in my lewd outfit and slave chains. He was looking at me, as if trying unsuccessfully to recall my face. Finally he turned and looked suspiciously at the large figure smirking at my side. The three men who'd followed him spread out around the tall figure. Although they couldn't know what he really was, the demon was an imposing figure, even in human form. The men drew their swords.
"This man broke into my room," I said accusingly, glaring at the demon. "I want you to arrest him!"
The gray-haired man looked at the demon. "Explain yourself, stranger," he said, menace in his voice.
The demon turned to face the man. He wore a sword, but he made no move to reach it. Instead he simply gestured, toward me. "Is this girl one of your slaves?"
I sputtered indignities. "I'm not a slave!"
The demon raised an eyebrow, "You are what then, a free woman dressed in a slave's clothing, wearing slave chains?" he said, looking doubtful.
"I . . . I will not be spoken to this way!" I exclaimed. "I'm a guest here, and I want you to remove these chains he put on me, and . . . arrest this man!"
The gray-haired man looked at me curiously. His eyes trailed downward, taking in my flushed face and heaving breasts, thinly covered by the white top. I paled as his eyes traveled down my body, following the chain that dangled between my breasts, over my belly, to disappear between my split panties. I winced as I realized the chain was still held within the folds of my pussy. My knees started to bend inward, to try to cover myself from his intense gaze.
Then his eyes returned to my face, and I saw what looked like recognition.
"She is indeed dressed in slave chains, and a slave's entertainment garb, ours in fact," he said to no one in particular. Then he looked at the demon. "And these chains are certainly ours. But to answer your question, she is not one of ours, she arrived with one of our guests."
"I'm not anybody's slave," I corrected. "I . . . I was simply dressing up . . . to please my friend. And then this . . . beast broke into my room, and put these . . . terrible things on me!"
"And where is your friend now?" asked the manager, his voice sounding a bit skeptical.
"He—he's outside, nearby I think," I said, "I'm sure he'll return soon."
"Ask her if her friend is her husband," suggested the demon.
The gray-haired man looked at me, then the demon, curious. Then he shrugged and asked me.
I didn't know what business that was of theirs, but didn't see the harm in answering. "No, he's not," I said.
"Then you should arrest her," said the demon, looking coolly at me. "Because this female is a convicted adulteress, and if he isn't her husband, it looks like she's back to her old ways."
"What? That's ridiculous!" I protested, looking at the manager, who looked as shocked as I. "Get him out of my room!"
The manager clearly didn't like being given orders by a woman, for his eyes narrowed and he spoke in a low voice. "Silence, girl. I will take care of this, not another word from you, unless you are asked, understood?"
"Take these chains off me at least!" I demanded, my voice breaking under the strain of the situation.
The innkeeper shot me a 'silence' look. "We will, as soon as we ascertain the truth!" he commanded.
Barely containing my indignation, I managed to nod in agreement. What choice did I have?
"Good," said the man, turning from me to the demon. "Now explain yourself quickly, sir, or I shall have you removed from this establishment."
The demon shrugged, as if it didn't really matter to him. He gestured at me. "It is simple really, she is a convicted adulteress, and she bears the mark."
I gaped at him. What was he talking about? I looked at the manager, and he was looking at me differently. He seemed to be thinking, and he was still looking at me, making me nervous.
"What, I don't understand," I said. "What mark is he talking about?"
The manager looked at me curiously, then spoke. "As you . . . may be aware, in our province, female adultery is a serious crime, and those guilty are branded, so that all may know their shame."
How revolting I thought. Just the women? And for adultery? "And he says I have one of those brands? That's absurd, I've never even been married," I retorted, glaring at the demon.
The manager nodded solemnly. "Perhaps. But I'm afraid I must check if his claim is true." He turned to the demon. "And if what you say is false, I may decide to arrest you, sir, for fraud."
The demon didn't say anything, so the manager turned back toward me. Before he spoke, I took a step back. "Wait a minute," I said. "You can't be serious!" He was serious, and he gestured toward his men. Two of them moved to me and grabbed my arms. "Let go of me!" I exclaimed, struggling to release my arms from their grip. The men held me easily, bound as I was. They both smiled, looking at my barely covered body. One of them spoke to the others. "She sure has the body of an adulteress." The men laughed at my expense, and my reddened features only increased their amusement.
"Turn her around," said the manager, who hadn't been laughing. Despite my struggles, the two men spun me around so that my back faced the manager, each of my upper arms held in a firm grip. "Now check her."
I squirmed and muttered indignations as I felt a hand lifting up my thin skirt behind my back, to expose my ass. I felt a hand touching the upper part of my butt cheek.
"I'll be damned, boss," said the man with his hand on me. "He's right."
"W-what?" I gasped, craning my neck to try to see, but I couldn't see what he was pointing to. "There's nothing there."
The manager could see however, and when the men spun me around, I saw that the way he looked at me had changed. I felt a chill run through me. "What mark?" I said. "It's impossible . . . I . . . show me in the mirror, let me see!"
The manager looked at me impatiently, then gestured to his men, who roughly brought me over to the mirror. Looking where the one man pointed, I saw . . . "Oh my god!" I gasped. There was a black mark, just below the panty string on my right buttock; it looked a bit like a horseshoe, and it was small, but clear. I'd never seen it before. In fact, come to think of it . . . . it hadn't been there only minutes before, when I'd preened in front of the mirror.
"You!" I suddenly shouted, breaking the loose grip of the two men as I spun to accuse the demon. "You put it there, you horned river toad!"
"Hold her you idiots!" commanded the manager to his two men. They quickly moved to regain their grip on my arms and held me there, facing the demon, who stood smugly grinning as he enjoyed my struggles.
"No, let me go!" I shouted, struggling uselessly. "That bastard, he's a . . . I mean, he used magic to put that mark on me! I've never been married, I can't be an adulteress!" One of the men painfully grabbed a fistful of my hair, drawing a yelp from me as I was pushed to my knees. A hand on my neck kept me in a kneeling position. I was about to let out another tirade at the manager, when a stinging slap to my face made me cry out, more in surprise than pain.
My eyes shot to the manager with anger, and I was shocked to see the change in his manner. As he crouched before me, his polite, almost respectful expression was gone, replaced by menace. I had been about to let him have it, but his look momentarily stole my voice. He spoke before I could.
"Now listen to me, girl, for I'm only going to say this once," he said, his voice now so hard and uncompromising that my anger was suddenly wavering. "I gave you a lot of leeway because I thought you were my guest. I won't tolerate any trouble from a criminal, especially an adulteress. You'll be silent now, and speak only when spoken to. Any more accusations toward this gentlemen, or any more outbursts, and I'll have you stripped naked and whipped soundly. Do you understand me?"
My mouth hung open in shock, trying to digest the rapidly changed situation. I like to think of myself as a strong woman, but at that moment, bound and on my knees, my magic gone and my face stinging from the slap I'd received, I felt anything but. I simply nodded, not wanting to speak, for fear my voice would crack.
"Good," said the man, his anger easing slightly. As I knelt on the hard wood floor before the four men, I noticed how they now looked at me entirely differently. Their polite looks of interest were now replaced by open leers, with no regard to my modesty. I wasn't used to men looking at me that way, would never get used to it. Being bound and on my knees made it considerably worse.
"My apologies, sir," said the gray haired man, looking at the demon. "You are correct that she is a convicted adulteress, and by her own admission, she has committed her crime a 2nd time. We will take her away immediately for sentencing."
"Sentencing?" I blurted, drawing a hard look from the man.
"Silence, girl," he said. "I won't warn you again." A sound of protest escaped my lips before I stopped myself. It would do me no good to be whipped, and words at this point weren't likely to convince them of anything. I remained silent.
The demon smiled, not looking at me. "I look forward to her sentencing," he said, as if making idle conversation. Both men looked at me then, and I tried to tell myself it was just a temporary predicament. The demon had used magic to place the mark on me, that meant it would disappear with time or distance. But neither would be easy to come by.
The innkeeper looked at me. "Get her on her feet," he said, gesturing to the two guards at my side. The two men lifted me to my feet, and the innkeeper looked me up and down. "I just have a few questions for your sentencing."
"Let's see," he said, pulling out a writing implement and a small scroll. "Height, hair color, dark brown, yes . . . eyes a greenish brown -- very pretty those, though tinged with anger at the moment. That'll change, love, they'll fix your insolence, do not worry."
I glared at him, and the demon. They could both roast in hell together, if I had my choice.
"Breasts . . . should we get the measuring string? Maybe not necessary, I'll just guess. Virgin? Hmm, that's a silly question to ask an adulteress, eh? Answer it anyway, you never know."
