The Chainer - the Lair of the Beast

The Chainer - The Lair of the Beast

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 third chapter of The Chainer.

The journey through the fortress was enlightening. To begin with, there was a clear delineation between the temple/harem, The Chainer's quarters, and the 'public' areas. The temple and the quarters had guards to prevent access by the unauthorized. The public areas did not appear guarded at all, nor highly traveled. It bolstered Elise's confidence that she would be able to move around within the space as soon as she could slip supervision. What people were present, however, had a dangerous attitude towards slaves. She was groped more times than she cared to count, and not just random grabs at her breasts and ass. By the end of the journey, she was relatively certain she'd have been raped but for the presence of Lysetta. The walk she'd learned had certainly invited the attention of passersby, but she was forced to concede that Lysetta's walk made hers seem like a newborn foal's.

Hogan's chambers were packed floor to ceiling with boxes, books, papers, chests, and then clutter seemingly just for the sake of it. The room was lit by candles, lanterns, and various things that glowed, yet none of them were strong enough to pierce through the darkness. Elise had phenomenal night vision, and her inability to see into some of the darkness made her much warier of the goblin mage. She'd been warned that Lysetta was the subtle one, but Hogan did spare at least some thought to keeping secrets.\r"Kneel, slut," Lysetta purred.

Elise took care to quickly and carefully kneel as Chugka had instructed her. "Yes, mistress," she added for good measure. The floor was soft, almost spongy, beneath her due to layers upon layers of rugs. She examined the room, careful not to break her posture, assessing the terrain of a possible battlefield. She wasn't sure, but she thought that something big was lurking in a particular patch of shadow.

She had several minutes to assess the room before the door opened and Hogan walked in, accompanied by a male slave.

"The new slave," Lysetta said with a gesture towards Elise.

"Yes, yes," the goblin replied. "The new gift from the King. A Knight of the Golden Order. Nobility. From a very old family. Very old, indeed." The rotund goblin waddled forward to peer more closely at her. "She has good form, Lysetta. She lifts her breasts; she displays her cunt. You've done well with her in so short a time."

"I anticipated The Chainer would be interested in her and have personally seen to her education," the drow effortlessly lied.

Elise pondered what sort of game the drow was playing. If Knife was to be believed - and she thought he was - then it was a very, very long game.

And she didn't call him 'master.' That's interesting.

The goblin reached out a hand and touched a ring on a taloned finger to Elise's new collar. "You may go, Lysetta. You may go."

"Very well, Hogan. The Chainer wishes to see this one at court tonight. I'll be by to collect her." Lysetta didn't wait for a reply. She simply glided out the door into the hallway.

"Very little time, then," the goblin said with a frown. "A short session. Quick work. Quick work, slave." The male slave scurried across the room, staying well clear of the suspicious patch of darkness, to open a door on the far side.

"Enter the room, cunt," the goblin ordered.

Elise rose to her feet and then immediately dropped to her knees, hands clawing at the collar that was throttling her like a rabid rapist.

"Crawl, stupid cunt," the goblin growled, pure malice oozing out from behind his somewhat comical demeanor.

"Yes, master," Elise choked out, falling to all fours on the rugs. The pressure at her throat eased as she crawled across the room, her breasts swaying gently. She wondered if Lysetta would hear about her failure, and if there would be other consequences for it. She followed the goblin and the male slave into the new space.

The room was a stark contrast to the first. It was white tile, from top to bottom, brightly lit, and sparkling clean. The walls held a variety of objects that ranged from readily recognizable to Elise to not at all. There was a collection of saws, another of knives, and another of hammers, but near to them were objects that Elise could only silently dub mechanical in nature. There were glass bottles containing liquids, and things in some of the liquids, some of which appeared to move. There were chests lined up along the floor as well, and some sort of sculpture in the center of the room: a frozen flame composed of porcelain tendrils reaching upward.

A torture chamber

, she thought. It wasn't a pleasant thought, and she had a sudden urge to empty her bladder, which she suppressed. Knife's words came back to her:

"A few hours with him and slaves come out, changed: cowering in fear, consumed by lust, incapable of rational thought."

It wasn't a reassuring memory.

But they need me in one piece for the court tonight

, she reassured herself,

and Knife said he's a mindfucker. I've dealt with that before. I can do it again.

Not having any further direction, she stopped moving when she was fully in the room, remembering her training and ensuring that her legs were spread. The male slave was following the goblin about the room, opening and closing chests. The click of talons on tile told her the goblin was barefoot.

She sensed the movement behind her before she heard anything, but didn't move. They were trying to surprise her. They'd failed, but she knew she still couldn't move.

They won't kill me,

she promised herself.

Not yet,

an unbidden part of her mind added.

She kept her head facing forward, straining to hear or even feel what was behind her. There was the sound of a faint indrawing of breath and a sensation of the air moving next to her sex, then a low, rumbling, growl entirely too close to her in any circumstances, let alone the ones she found herself in.

"No," the goblin casually said.

That prompted another growl, which was somehow modulated.

"Because I said so," Hogan snapped. "It's not time. No time. I'm in a hurry and you'll have to wait your turn." He looked back and frowned. "To the pillar, cunt. The pillar. Hurry."

The collar tightened against her throat just enough to convey the implied threat, and Elise scurried forward, sacrificing all grace for speed. She knelt in front of the pillar, knees widely separated, back straight, shoulders back to lift her breasts, and her eyes focused downward at the base of the pillar.

If only I knew what the ornamentation signified. I wonder if it's magical?

Movement by her head caught her attention, but she didn't dare break her position. She felt a hand caressing her hair. The realization that it

wasn't

a hand nearly made her break her posture, but she kept her eyes down. The sensation flowed down her back, cold and hard but somehow fluid, and she realized it was the pillar. Her heart accelerated as fear fought for control of her body.

The fluid flowed further down her back to the crack of her ass, and then kept going. She was afraid it was going to cover her vagina - perhaps even enter it.

Thump, thump

went her heart, and fear lunged against the chain of her resolve. The fluid split; it flowed between her thighs, then down her thighs and legs. It had covered her back entirely, she realized, and it began to extend down her arms. As it reached her ankles, there was a pressure, and her legs were lifted off the ground.

Slowly, her ankles rose, her legs extending, still spread, until she was horizontal to the ground, her breasts dangling beneath her. Her ankles rose even more and her head lowered; her body began to rotate past horizontal towards vertical. She was unable to move; the liquid porcelain seemed to hold her body like dried concrete. As the door to the room came into view, she caught sight of the creature from the shadow. It stalked quietly forward into the light, an enormous beast, half hyena, half wolf.

warg,

she named it in her mind - the twisted, intelligent war beasts of the Goblins. That one, she noted, had a bright pink erection protruding beneath its belly. It licked its lips and grinned at her.

The flow carried her legs and body past vertical, her feet high in the air while her head was near the floor. It then curved her body, her feet moving past horizontal and towards the floor. The flow continued, spreading her legs and her arms, bowing her entire body up towards the ceiling. She tried to relax, willing herself limp, and just at the point when the pain of the position was about to become unbearable, the flow stopped, and she was motionless, spreadeagle and stretched to her limit, the darkness of the room beyond and the warg standing at the edge of it the only things she could see.

"Good," Hogan muttered. "Good. Yes. Very nice." The slave, sporting an enormous erection that couldn't possibly be natural, placed a chair on the floor at Elise's head. The fat goblin settled heavily into it and leered at her. "Let's see what treasures you have."

Elise realized he was speaking to himself, not to her. It was difficult for her to breathe. The position put a lot of pressure on her chest and diaphragm and made it impossible to draw deep breaths. She felt as though she was starting to drown, but she knew the cause; she knew also that the body wanted more air than it truly needed, and so was able to control the panic. She was uncomfortable, but not in distress.

The goblin took a ruby pendant from about his neck and pressed it to Elise's forehead. She felt as though he'd placed a red hot poker on the spot and hissed in pain. Her body attempted to thrash against the restraints, but only her chest and belly were able to heave as she began to hyperventilate and her battleplan failed at first contact.

She'd experienced mental assaults before and, perhaps foolishly, had believed that Hogan's would be in their mold. It was not. She felt as though the goblin mage was peeling her skull open, layer by layer. There was no way to fight it - no way to keep it at bay. She was going to lose the battle. She screamed, and the little man leered unpleasantly, pleased with himself. She took the moment to seize on the memory of Knife, on his attack, on the way he'd bound her, on the way he'd marched her through the forest like an animal, and that she'd saved the rope so she could hang him. She poured every ounce of her being into that hatred for Knife. From hatred sprang a desire for revenge, and from that desire, the will to survive anything so that she could serve it up. That became her cold, black, macabre lifeline.

Her screams went on and on until she was screaming about the memory of the pain, because the ruby had been withdrawn. She gasped for breath, her skin drenched in sweat, rivulets of it slowly dripping from her flesh, pooling in her eyes and blinding her.

"Very interesting," the goblin grumbled. "Very. Yes. A strong mind. I need more time. More time. Later. A special session. But first, to work."

The goblin rose, and the slave, still erect, scooped up the chair and took it out of Elise's field of vision. The warg remained, however, grinning at her, licking its lips. It growled at her. Still gasping for air, Elise stuck her tongue out at it.

"I said no!" the goblin snapped. "Not now! Maybe the next session, yes? Perhaps. If she's still strong, we can teach her she's just a bitch. Oh! She's soiled herself. Clean that up."

As the male slave wiped her clean with a rag she realized she really had pissed herself.

Not the first time that's happened in a fight

, she joked, trying to find some stable footing for her mind. She still burned, from her brain down her spine, and to the tips of her fingers and toes, but she'd filled the goblin's mind with so much noise that he couldn't read hers. That would buy her some time, but Knife had been correct, again: they couldn't stay there long. She realized what she was doing and forced her mind back to Knife - back to her lifeline, which was woven from the desire to cut his short.

"More than one way to get into a bitch," Hogan cackled from between her legs.

She felt something sliding inside her and involuntarily protested. "No!"

"Oh, yes," the goblin assured her. "Yes, indeed. Let's see what you have locked inside you. Yes? Yes."

Again, the burning lashed through her body, and the scream that poured out of her mouth wasn't something intended to distract her tormentor, but a pure reaction. Desperately, she grabbed hold of her lifeline again.

Hate. Revenge. Survive. Kill. Dance naked as he dies. Crawl towards him as his eyes bulge. Kneel and cradle his rampant cock in my hands. Kiss it while he strokes my hair. Take that hot stiffness deep into my mouth and throat until I can't fit anymore. Listen to him howling with pleasure as he erupts into me and my body burns with his seed.

"There," the goblin crowed. "All locked away. So much lust. Yes, lust. Nice lust. It shouldn't be locked away. I'll just break that box. Break it. The Chainer will be so pleased. Very, very pleased."

Elise felt the burning concentrate in her belly and then explode, and she screamed again. Then there was only the memory of the burning. Her skin shivered from it while sweat poured from her. Her vagina and womb felt like they were vibrating. She tried to gather herself for the next round of the fight, knowing that it was coming - knowing that she'd face it.

I am someone

, she desperately thought.

I am something. I was born something - no, I achieved things. I am Elise. I was born Elise, but I made myself into Elise. I'm on a mission... a mission? What am I supposed to do?

Her lapse in memory sent her into a panic. She scrambled to latch onto something else. A frayed lifeline dangled.

Knife.

His face appeared in her thoughts.

I'm going to find him.

Anger lashed through her; she welcomed it, but it felt fleeting and slippery. She couldn't quite finish the thought.

I'm going to find him... and... something. I'm going to find him.

"Oh, The Chainer will be very pleased," the goblin burbled. "God-touched. Yes. I will be so interested to find out which one." His attention flickered to Elise ever so briefly. "Do you know?" Just like that, he was within himself again, talking to himself

about

her, notwithstanding his conversational questions. "No matter, no matter. We'll find out together. But have you ever wondered why you don't have any pubic hair? Just lucky? Or did you know? Don't answer. Don't answer! Far more fun to take that from you. This will be fun."

The goblin appeared in her sweat-blurred field of vision and stroked her cheek. "We're going to have

lots

of fun," he giggled, then turned away from her, waddling towards the door.

"Make her ready for Lysetta," he ordered as he walked out of the room. "Have you ever fucked a god-touched, Gragr? You're going to!" The warg eyed Elise hungrily before slinking back into the shadow.

The pillar deposited her on the ground by reversing the process by which it had lifted her into the air. It left her kneeling in front of it, trembling uncontrollably, her entire sweat-covered body burning. Something stabbed her shoulder, and she screamed and rolled away from it, coming clumsily up into a kneeling ready posture, ready to fight - or almost ready. The room seemed to be moving slightly, and only her training and experience kept her from losing her balance. The male slave stood frozen next to where she had been kneeling, one hand down at shoulder height. She realized he'd merely touched her shoulder.

"Wh?" she demanded, then swallowed and wet her lips. "Why did you touch me?" The words seemed to come from far away and she blinked her eyes twice and tried to focus on the man in front of her.

The slave opened his mouth wide and pointed inside then made a gesture with his hand. It took her a moment to understand. "They cut out your tongue," she said aloud.

The slave nodded and then pointed to the door, a combination of gestures indicating she should walk into the next room and kneel.

"Why are you like that?" she asked, pointing to the monstrous purple erection insistently rising from between his legs.

The slave sighed and shrugged, conveying through numerous tortured hand gestures that he had been magically affected - cursed - by the goblin. He had a much easier time conveying that he thought Elise quite beautiful. There was a pause, and then he gestured some more.

"Help you?" she guessed. He nodded and pointed to his engorged flesh. Elise was repulsed by the idea, but bit off the rude refusal that instantly tried to escape her lips.

No telling how he can make my task more difficult,

she reasoned,

and I'm going to need every friend I can get - even a mute slave.

She raised a hand and cupped it, moving it up and down. His eyes widened and then he hesitantly tapped his mouth. She shook her head, regretting it instantly, because it almost cost her her balance. She shook her hand up and down once more. He nodded.

She carefully scooted forward on her knees, her eyes looking to the doorway to see if the warg was still present. She couldn't see him, but, then, she couldn't see into some of the darkness, and the room kept subtly moving in her vision. She reached out carefully and took the slave's swollen flesh in her hand. It was hot to the touch. He moaned, the first sound she'd heard him make. She moved her fingertips down from the tip all the way to the base and slid them in amongst his pubic hair to cradle his balls.

"I don't know what that fat freak was thinking when he cursed you," she said, "but this is an impressive appendage." She was aware that, as dirty talk went, it left a lot to be desired. She slid her hand around the base of his flesh and stroked up, realizing that she was going to be able to fit both hands on it at the same time. A whisper escaped her in spite of herself. "Gods."

The slave was breathing heavily. She wrapped both hands around him and began to slowly stroke up and down, twisting her hands slightly to gently wring him at the top and bottom of each motion. He was trembling in her hands, so strongly that it took her a moment to realize that he wasn't the only one. She increased the pace of her efforts, sliding her thumb over the top of his cock at the top of each stroke. "Come on," she muttered quietly, impatient, but also eager.

"Come on, come on." She looked up at him and caught his eye. "Come for me?"

He did, his hot flesh swelling and tensing. Ropes of white cum shot forth, spattering onto her hands and forearms. She narrowly avoided getting the hot fluid on her face and breasts only by pushing him back. She hadn't realized how close he'd gotten.

Did he move? Did I?

The slave released inarticulate cries of joy as his body pumped out an impossible amount of semen. Her sticky hands continued to move up and down on him, stroking every last ounce from his body until at last not even a little more oozed from his tip. She felt a brief pang of disappointment that the moment was over.

The slave fell to his knees in front of her, head back, groaning as though he'd been granted a momentary respite from the fires of some hell. Elise smiled. The situation notwithstanding, she'd never had a partner who'd reacted quite so appreciatively.

"Better?" she asked, looking at the ooze coating her hands and wondering how she was going to clean it off.

His head snapped forward and the gaze that he fixed on her was the sort of desire she'd seen very rarely, and often on the faces of predators determined to kill her. For a moment, his face wasn't at all human and, instinctively, she readied herself to kill him. The slave threw his hands up, palms out, and scurried backwards, his head bent low in submission. When he was well out of range, he made apologetic gestures, then stood and hurried over to the wall, returning with wet rags which, after obtaining Elises's nod of approval, he applied to her hands, forearms, and her knees. The rags scraped against her skin like sandpaper and she nearly pulled away. Carefully focusing her gaze on them, she found they were simply cloth. The rags weren't the problem; she was just hypersensitive. Then the slave cleaned the floor. Lastly, he cleaned himself.