Editor's note: this fictional work contains scenes of completely fictional mind control, rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, consensually non-consensual (CNC), or non-consensual sex or scenarios.
*****
Lady Siobhan, the Outlaw Seer, Champion of the People and member in good standing of the Secret Order of the Maenads, would not have been frightened by a group of men on horseback wearing what looked like very real armor and wielding alarmingly large swords. That was because she had training with weapons and magic, and more importantly, because she was the fictional protagonist of Age of Mages III, latest rpg in the hit dark fantasy video game series which had outsold all the previous installments despite a vocal online minority bitching about how it had gone "woke."
Maggie Hartman, on the other hand, had a prop dagger and a book of nonsense words, both impeccably decorated to match the implements used in her favorite game. For as many compliments as her Lady Siobhan cosplay had gotten her on social media, she had a bad feeling those props weren't going to be too helpful now.
"Have you lost your knight protector, my lady?" The man directly in front of her wearing black velvet over chainmail spoke with a full-on Royal Shakespeare Company accent, the kind that would have made Maggie's knees weak if he'd been a voice actor. Maybe he really was one, and just liked to get his kicks attending ren faires and scaring girls who wandered too far off into the woodsy grounds.
"I..." Maggie had spent the day happily chattering with her friends over mead floats and booths that sold leather purses, but now her mouth had dried up entirely and she couldn't get out more than a single word at a time.
"What a coward he must have been to abandon you!" the man went on. She didn't like the smile on his face as he said it. (She might have liked it under different circumstances, but not now.) "Never trust a hired blade, my lady, lest he take your payment and leave you on the lands he swore to guide you through. Alas, my pity extends only so far."
Maggie attempted to back away from the man taking this faire way too seriously, but the sound of horses encircling her stopped her in her tracks. There were no horses at this local ren faire, she would have seen them, there was just a pony for the small children to ride. Guests riding horses couldn't have gotten in if they'd tried.
"Haven't you heard?" asked another voice, in a rougher version of the accent, which definitely didn't belong in the outskirts of a suburban Long Island park. "Lord Irons has the right to hunt any prey on his lands!"
"This isn't funny," Maggie squeaked out, even though that sentence never helped anyone in horror movies. If a bunch of psychos had taken the trouble to outfit themselves like fantasy villains and harass girls on horseback, they definitely wouldn't care if she found it funny.
"For shame!" said the man who was apparently Lord Irons. "She is not some common prey to be speared through, but a delicate doe to be trapped with care. My pretty little creature, will you ride with me peaceably? I would rather not bruise such tender flesh."
"This is so wrong." Those were the only words Maggie could use to describe her situation. If they were psychos, why weren't they just attacking her? Was it their psycho kink to pretend to be over the top villains? 'A delicate doe to be trapped with care'- that was something Duke Sylvanius would have said in the first Age of Mages game, when he kicked off the plot by seizing all the human women who lived in his elven duchy to be his concubines. She ought to be gearing up for a boss fight right now, not living this shit out.
Maggie was jolted out of her thoughts by a sharp pinch to her breast. She yelped and the man holding her laughed and squeezed down harder- and then he was suddenly thrust away from her onto the ground. Lord Irons had swung down off his horse and ripped his underling away from his captive, and when the man tried to stand up again, Irons slammed his boot into his stomach. Next, he kicked the side of his head, and Maggie heard a wail that was abruptly cut off by yet another strike.
"I apologize for your mistreatment." Lord Irons's words may have been courteous, but they didn't ease Maggie's shock. "I assure you, you will be perfectly safe in my care."
"If I'm so safe," she asked, "can I leave?"
Lord Irons smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. In that moment of terrifying calm, though, she took what she believed was an opportunity and dashed as fast and as far as she could in the first open direction she saw. She had no idea where she could go, or even where she was, but there was no time to think about that, only to run.
