The Chainer Presented

The Chainer - Presented to The Chainer

Copyright 2024 by Otto26

With thanks to neuroparenthetical for his editing work and Elayne for her permission to rewrite our online roleplay as a story. This is the fourth chapter of The Chainer.

The great hall looked for all the world like the grand ballrooms of her youth taken over by savages. The room was composed of interlocking domed spaces with pillars descending from the high ceiling to the ground. It was impressive work that put Elise in mind of Dwarf caverns. Where once the walls and columns might have boasted artwork or impressive decorations, they were 'decorated' with skulls, skins, and graffiti. The tables were crude and long and belonged in a village beer festival rather than a grand hall, however dilapidated. The raised stone dais at the end of the hall was, in her experience, unusual. Three steps high, it was the sort of thing found in a place that was expected to host high nobility. To her complete lack of surprise, a throne of skulls and chains occupied pride of place.

Elise looked around the room, trying to see if Knife was present, but there was simply too much movement - too many people. Orcs, humans, half-orcs, some goblins, and a cluster of dwarves in one corner populated the space. Nine out of ten of them were male, but she was surprised to see a few females who were obviously not slaves. There were plenty of slaves evident as well, and there, the numbers seemed reversed, with the majority of them being female and a small minority being male.

The slaves were serving, in various ways. Some of them struggled under loads of food that were being brought out from an entrance that Elise assumed led to a kitchen: barrels, baskets of bread, platters of meat, and bowls of the ubiquitous savory gruel that formed the bulk of most meals, even for the wealthy. Others were being abused. She saw several being gang-raped - on tables, on floors, or chained to walls or pillars. There were lines. Other slaves danced or performed with other slaves, carrying out various sexual acts. Dogs - enormous mongrels that looked to be half-hyena - skulked about the place, and Elise wondered if Hogan's warg had sired them.

"Eyes down, skugga," Shugguz growled, and she carefully lowered her eyes to prevent him having an excuse to hit her. He led her across the room, leaving a trail of whistles and catcalls in their wake, to the wall next to the dais. "Stand."

Elise stood in the position Chugka had beaten into her and waited, eyes down.

Where once tapestries and banners would have muted the uproar, the naked walls, ceiling, and floor of the hall cast it back, amplifying the cacophony. From the all-enveloping fog of sound, occasional coherent snippets emerged like ghostly hands to grasp a more distant listener's attention: arguments, wagers, laughter, screams, moans, songs, even conspiratorial whispers.

Then there was a loud thump, then another, like a massive piece of wood hitting the floor. Then there was a third, and someone yelled "Chainer!" in time to the fourth. Then hundreds of voices took up the chant in time to the thumping. "Chainer! Chainer! Chainer! Chainer!"

Elise felt nauseous.

"Good evening, my bastards!" a voice boomed.

The rhythm of the chant was broken as the hall erupted into cheers that went on for at least a minute. As they ebbed, the voice spoke again. "Sit down and shut up! I have business to attend to."

The noise fell to a low murmur, punctuated by the sounds of moving benches, feet, and cutlery.

"An emissary from King Ignace seeks your audience, Chainer!"

Elise recognized Hogan's voice, amplified somehow.

"Bring me this emissary."

After a minute of murmur-filled silence, she heard Knife, and felt a sense of relief.

"Greetings, Chainer. King Ignace sends me to negotiate for the return of his daughter. As a token of his goodwill, he sends you this gift."

The end of Elise's leash whistled and struck her ass hard. She hissed in pain as Shugguz growled, "Walk." She raised her head and carefully stepped forward, slowly strutting across the floor to stand next to Knife, in front of the dais. The sense of nausea grew within her, and she began to worry that she might vomit. Carefully, she worked through the exercises she'd learned as a squire, quieting her mind, relaxing her muscles, and mastering the fear.

Knife had cleaned himself up and stood confidently in front of the dais, still wearing her sword at his waist. The sight of it filled her with another moment of relief. The bandits were mostly seated on benches at tables, though many leaned against the walls, and not a few were seated on the floor where they could better see the proceedings.

The Chainer was an enormous orc, bigger than Shugguz by a head, and powerfully built, though showing signs of weight that had nothing to do with muscle. She had the impression that he must be some smaller kind of giant rather than an orc. His yellow skin was dark, tending toward an orange in places, and was covered in scars. He sat upon the throne of skulls while a naked female slave, her back and ass red and bruised from the lash, buried her face in his lap, energetically serving his pleasure.

As Elise halted next to Knife, Shugguz lashed her ass again and commanded her to kneel. She swallowed her yelp of pain and carefully knelt on the stone floor, knees spread wide and shoulders back, but she kept her head up and her eyes fixed on the dais. She was determined to see what came next.

"Lady Elise Dieubenit, daughter of the Count of Montfort, Knight of the Golden Order, and leader of the guards that failed to protect the Princess from your forces," Knife pronounced.

"This Princess?" The Chainer asked, his massive hand knotting in the hair of the slave between his legs and pulling her mouth from his cock.

Elise gasped at the sight of the Princess. The front of her body was marked as badly as her back, and heavy gold rings pierced her nose and her nipples. Her hands scrabbled at The Chainer's thighs as she whined, "Please, master. Please. Let cunt finish you. Cunt wants to drink your cum. Please. Please."

"I've barely started to enjoy her," The Chainer rumbled. "Why would I send her back?"

"I suggest we move to a place of greater privacy to discuss the details of the King's generous offer," Knife said.

"No, Verenestriel, we'll discuss this here," The Chainer stated.

"If that's your preference, Hanshtol," Knife replied.

The murmur of the hall increased in volume as Elise tore her eyes away from the horror of the Princess, still pawing at The Chainer and trying to fellate him, and looked at Knife.

Verenestriel?

"I told your mother that name in confidence," The Chainer said. "She was cleaning my cock after I fucked her ass. I was in a good mood. My mistake. I knew the lying little slut never could keep a secret."

Knife ostentatiously yawned. "Are we going to play old games that you'll lose, or negotiate for the release of the Princess?"

The Chainer smiled, and Elise was reminded of the warg in Hogan's room. "Let's play a new game, then. I call this one 'prove your credentials.' Rape the Lady."

Knife looked over at Elise, and she saw him shrug. "Okay," he said.

"No!" Shugguz bellowed. "The skugga is for Shugguz!"

"Are you challenging me, Shugguz?" The Chainer asked, his voice icy.

"No, Chainer" the orc rumbled, suddenly standing someplace he did not want to be. "I challenge the chuggak for the skugga."

The murmur was on the verge of becoming a roar, and every eye was focused on The Chainer.

"Very well," he said calmly. "I'll let you challenge my little elf bastard. The winner can have the slut."

Elise felt her heart jump in fear and joy. She'd seen Knife fight. She was almost certain - almost - that he could win. As she remembered the look in his eyes from a mere moment prior, however, she was far less certain that that meant she wouldn't be raped. Someone grabbed her leash and pulled. She scurried after it, leaving the battlefield. All around her collected murmurs became a roar as innumerable bets were placed.

"Gonna kill you, rape-spawn." Shugguz promised in Orcish. "Gonna kill you and rape the fuck-meat over your corpse."

"You touched my woman," Knife replied in the same language, albeit with an Elvish accent. "I'm going to feed you your fingers before you die."

The orc bellowed in rage and charged at Knife, his massive axe held lightly before him. Knife flicked a throwing knife at the orc's face as his body leaned forward. As Shugguz angled the blade of his axe to protect his face, he blinded himself for a moment, and Knife threw himself forward, closing the distance between them in a second. Shugguz's axe dropped and swept upward in a clean, economical motion that would have gutted Knife if he hadn't dropped to the floor in a slide that sent him between the orc's legs. Another knife lashed out, slashing across the interior of Shugguz's thigh. Knife rolled away as Shugguz spun, the axe slashing across where Knife would have been if he'd instead chosen to regain his feet.

The crowd cheered and booed the fight by turns. Elise watched with a critical eye for a time while her heart pounded in her chest, but she eventually transferred her gaze to the dais. Shugguz was a dead man; he just hadn't fallen over yet. The Chainer was regally watching the fight as the Princess bobbed her head up and down on his stiff flesh, casual interest in his eyes. Elise flickered her eyes around the room, looking for, and finding, the guards hidden in various places: men with loaded crossbows.

Knife pulled his shortsword and used it like a lever in both hands to fend off the next couple of attacks. Shugguz was deep in the rage and ignoring the blood that poured from his artery, down his leg, and onto the stone floor. Even weakened by that wound, his attacks were so powerful that it took every bit of Knife's efforts to prevent them from killing him. He picked up cuts on his face, chest, and both arms in the process, leading Shugguz in a spiraling dance that would end with the orc's death, in time. Then the time came when not even Shugguz's rage could sustain him - when his yellow skin was pale, when his breathing was shallow and ragged. He collapsed to his knees.

Knife strode forward and stepped on the haft of the axe, pulling it from Shugguz's hands and pinning it to the floor. Then he kicked Shugguz in the chest, sprawling him onto his back.

"Fuck you," Shugguz muttered, keeping to his mother tongue.

Knife ignored him and took hold of the fingers of Shugguz's right hand. His shortsword sawed at them, severing them, and he shoved them into the orc's mouth. "My fuckmeat," he said - in Orcish to ensure his victim understood- as the light faded from Shugguz's eyes.

Elise smiled as Knife cleaned his weapons on the corpse's clothing, then froze as he turned his gaze upon her. The look he'd cast upon her before the fight was still there, hungry and resolved. It was the second time in a few hours that she'd seen that look and she didn't think she'd be able to dissuade Knife as she had Hogan's slave. She took an unconscious step backward as he crossed the space between them. Then the leash was thrown out, and his hand shot out to grasp it.

"Mine." His tone wasn't particularly loud. The word he spoke seemed to be directed entirely at her, but the hall erupted in laughter and cheers.

"Wait," she breathed as he pulled on her leash, pulling her out in front of the dais. She gasped as his bloody hand reached out and took hold of her breast. "What?" Unlike Shugguz and the nameless gropers,he didn't squeeze painfully. He caressed it, tracing its shape, feeling the weight of it in his hand. She gasped again as the rough palm of his hand moved across her sensitive nipple - her hard nipple, she realized.

This is happening,

she told herself.

Better him than any of the others. How do I play this?

There were two obvious answers. She could fight, or submit. The latter, she reasoned, might be better for both of them, as it might build his stock with The Chainer and the crowd.

But I know which one I want to do,

she thought to herself.

Don't I?

"No, Knife," she quietly begged him. "Please. Not like this."

He leaned forward and took her nipple into his mouth... gently. His tongue traced it, rasping across it. She threw her head back with a sharp moan and tried to breathe. The crowd roared laughter and derision. She blushed and arched her back, pressing her hips against him, undulating and grinding. His other hand traced a bloody trail down her flank to her hip and he pulled her against him, as if she could get any closer.

Then his mouth left her breast, and she groaned in disappointment. He roughly spun her around, facing the crowd. One hand was on her hip, the other across her chest, and he fastened his mouth to the side of her neck. She squealed as he sucked hard at her flesh and the pleasure mingled with a tickle. Then he bit her, and she jumped against him. His hand pressed between her thighs and, just for a moment, she resisted and clung to what her life had been. Then her legs parted, and his hand was against her sex, then between her wet lips, and they danced.

Her ass ground back against him, her body swaying in his grasp as his bloody hand massaged a breast, teasing the nipple. His lips and teeth bruised her neck, marking her with pleasure as the lash had with pain. His other hand moved against her, then in her, two fingers curling and caressing the inner walls of her while his palm covered her pearl. She knew what his fingers were searching for and gasped and trembled when they found it. At that moment, she became helpless. In her state of heightened sensitivity, she found herself drowning in pleasure, and gave herself over to it entirely. She gave herself over to Knife - or Verenestriel.

To my owner.

Then she came, and he held her upright against him as she shook. He milked the moment, drawing every last sensation out of her with every trick he knew.

Elise trembled in his arms, hers wrapped around his, her face turned towards him as he kissed the side of her neck. Around them, the crowd laughed, and booed, and cheered, or called out encouragement and suggestions. His lips found her ear and he whispered, "Good girl, Elise." She melted against him, not knowing why his words could have that sort of effect on her, and not caring. Then he pushed her to the ground.

She sprawled on the stone floor on all fours, looking back at him in stunned surprise. She saw him pull his cock from his pants, and knew. Trembling again, she lowered her head to the floor and lifted her ass, spreading her legs. The cheers of the crowd rang in her head. She felt Knife kneeling behind her, one hand grasping her hip as he slowly slid into her. She moaned against the stone, her fingers clawing at it. She moved her hips, pressing back against him and altering the angle slightly even as his free hand grasped her other hip and began to move her on him. Her body shifted forward and back, sensitive breasts dragging against the floor, as she obeyed the commands of his hands. His stiff flesh filled her, and she mewled in protest each time he pushed her off it and the pressure of it vanished. She felt her sex squeezing hungrily, trying to hold it within her. Then he shouted, and she felt the heat of his seed within her.

"Yes," she breathed as he pushed deep into her, and they both fell prone upon the ground. He lay upon her as his body filled her and she squeezed and squeezed and gasped as her body trembled beneath him, another orgasm sweeping through her.

"No," she protested as he pulled out of her, unaware that she'd uttered the word aloud.

The Chainer laughed. "Can my stepson fuck a slave?"

The crowd roared back their approval.

"I accept Ignace's gift," The Chainer said. "The slut will make a nice pair with his daughter."

Elise rolled onto her side to get a better view of the exchange. Still panting, sweaty and bloody, with Knife's cum leaking onto her slick thighs, she regarded the orc. Knife stood above her, his cock still hard, a strand of cum and her fluid dangling from his balls.

"The winner can have the slut," Knife stated. "Your words, Hanshtol."

Elise saw a flicker of hatred chase through The Chainer's eyes, followed by shrewd cunning.

"Quite right," the orc allowed, making a magnanimous gesture. "She's yours, son - but as much as the crowd would enjoy seeing more of your handiwork, I think we'll take the rest of this discussion back to my quarters."

Knife nodded his acquiescence. "Stand, Elise."

She moved unsteadily to her feet, her body still trembling a little. She took a moment to regard herself. She was filthy - dirty, bloody, and sticky. The leash hung down between her breasts and she gathered it up with both hands, hesitated, and then extended it wordlessly towards Knife. He accepted it and began following The Chainer, who was walking away from the dais with the Princess thrown over his shoulder. She followed closely behind him, unaware that Lysetta would have found no fault in her gait.

The Chainer passed through a doorway that led to a spiral staircase, which went up. Knife gestured for her to proceed before him, and she led the way. Halfway up, it occurred to her that he was watching her naked ass sway from side to side on the steps, and the realization made her pause for just a moment before she continued, blushing.

Stupid,

she raged at herself.

He's seen you naked. He's raped you! Why am I blushing because he can watch my ass?

At the top, the stairway let out into a hallway that Elise thought she recognized. Another minute of walking led them to a large, ornate double door, which led into The Chainer's chambers. The outer chamber was a sitting room, of sorts. A throne-like chair, simple wood rather than skulls, sat to one side in front of a wall draped with silk fabrics. Stools were provided for others. There were several chests, a couple of them big enough to serve as tables. The floor was covered in layers of rugs, and the walls were decorated with weapons. Her eyes were drawn to them, and she automatically noted the wide variety. Some of the weapons were too small to have been used by The Chainer, and she guessed that those were trophies.

The room reeked. She smelled sweat, fear, sex, smoke, and several scents she associated with drugs or perfumes, but there was an underlying aroma - something that made her nose wrinkle in distaste - that she could not identify. She'd smelled it once before, she knew, but couldn't remember the place or the time, and her mind would not be still and let her search her memories with any discipline.

The orc dumped the Princess onto the ground without any ceremony or care for her well being and took his seat. The Princess yelped in surprise and discomfort, but scrambled to all fours and scurried over to The Chainer's feet, kneeling in front of him. Rather than the standard kneeling position, she put her hands back by her ankles and bowed her belly forward, her head falling back and her hair cascading down to the ground between her widely spread ankles. It looked uncomfortable to Elise. She knelt in the standard way next to Knife, who settled himself on a stool.

"Clean up my cock and put it away," Knife ordered, his eyes fixed on The Chainer.

Elise hesitated, taken by surprise by the command, and then unsure how to comply with it. "Yes, master," she replied, buying another second of time to consider. She scooted forward and bent her head over his lap and began to lick him.

Still hard?

she wondered, a little annoyed that she hadn't worn him out, and a little impressed with his stamina.

"You're too kind to her, Verenestriel," The Chainer observed. "Treat her like the bitch she is and you'll get unquestioning obedience."