The Magus Provectus
series
Vol. 5 -- Sensual Torture
§1
"Do your worst, mageling," hissed the barbarian. "Many have tried to break me, none have succeeded. Neither will you!"
She surged against the restraints that bound her to the reclined slab of stone. The curvature of the stone-crafted structure supported her weight while simultaneously presenting key parts of her body forward.
"For the last time," I said without looking up from my sharpening stone, "my name is Valin, not 'mageling'. And I`m not going to break you, I just need answers to some simple questions."
The barbarian spat on the ground in disgust. "You little flatlanders are all the same, you think torture could convince any of my people to talk. Pathetic"
"Who said anything about torture?" I asked, checking the edge of my knife against the light of the lantern. "Still not perfectly centered," I muttered to myself.
"You believe me an idiot?" She questioned harshly. "When you swing that piece of shit blade in front of me?"
I looked at her for the first time since activating her magnetic shackles. "Now that just hurts my feelings, I happen to like this knife."
Her face scrunched up in distaste. "A weak, little blade for a weak, little man."
"Well above average in both height and musculature, actually." I remarked obnoxiously, childishly trying to get a rise out of her. Sometimes I just can`t help myself.
"But I suppose to someone like you I would seem weak and little, sure."
Even shackled and reclined my head barely reached the shoulders of the brawny warrior woman. A typical trait of the Goliath tribes. My rather rude 'guest' stood at over seven feet in height.
Yet she was not unpleasant to look at. Sure, her features were caked in road dirt and her matted hair needed a decent combing. Her broad shoulders, relatively slim waist and muscular legs gave her a hourglass figure that was quite distinct from that of the 'soft' ladies down here in the flatlands.
Despite not being a push-over myself, when it came to physical prowess, the iron-hard cords of muscle in her arms put mine to shame. "That`s why I`ve got those nifty shackles to make sure we get along."
My smile left her unaffected as she tested the strength of the magically enhanced fetters. Her arms bulged like steel cables as she tried to break free from the smoothly curved section of wall that held her upright.
I`d made the shackles to withstand even the brutal might of a full-grown ogre, so I wasn`t too worried about her escape attempt.
After a minute of furious straining, the enormous woman let out a growling exhale and let her arms sag down.
"Coward," she spat at me, "release me and fight like a man!"
"And lose you as a conversational partner? No, thank you," I beamed at her.
Her eyes flicked back to the knife and she snorted. "Pfff... 'conversation'. I know a torture instrument when I see one, mageling."
"Valin," I corrected for the twentieth time, walking towards her. "And you seem very fixed on this idea that I`m going to torture you, for some reason."
She simply bared her teeth at me and growled.
"Torture is for chumps, my dear," I said while spinning the small knife in an intricate pattern through my fingers. "What I`m after requires a bit more... finesse."
§2
"Now. Last chance, before you force me to start... Let`s start simple: what is your name?"
"Fuck you, mageling." She snapped at me.
Sighing dramatically, I furrowed my brow and shrugged. "Suit yourself."
I pointed the knife at her and flicked it in quick motions, mentally following the lines of her body.
Imperceivable threads of edged will sliced neatly through her rough hide armor, without ever cutting the skin underneath. Unconsciously I made sure to sever the clothing in such a manner that they could be easily repaired afterwards. No sense in wasting material.
Within a few heartbeats the barbarian was stripped of every piece of clothing expect a surprisingly delicate loincloth, which only barely covered her private parts and a leather string with what seemed like bear teeth which hung around her neck.
She was as filthy beneath the now discarded armor as her face had given me reason to suspect. Despite the grime, however, I took a few moments to let my eyes roam over her surprisingly tantalizing form.
What drew my interest the most was her alabaster skin, nearly as white as fresh snow, and the swirls and long lines of tattoos that ran across the entire length of her. The dark ink contrasted heavily with her ivory skin, apparently meant to accentuate her impressive physique.
The one thing marring her otherwise attractive form were the raised scars of recent trauma.
So that`s what she meant when she said many had tried to break her.
She`d been tortured. Quite viciously, judging from the marks.
"I`ll try again," I said, sliding the blade between her skin and the tiny, remaining garment, "What is your name?"
The barbarian seemed to regain her senses quickly, even after the shock of being quite abruptly confronted with magic.
"You think nudity will shame me into talking? You are more arrogant than I thought."
"I was hoping you`d say that."
The keen edge of my knife bit into the string of her loincloth with little effort. It dropped to the ground, atop the rest of her clothing.
A wild bush of raven colored hair occupied the space between her slightly spread legs.
"Been a while, huh?" I remarked congenially, "the men of your tribe must be tripping over themselves to court you."
"Go to Hel."
"Touchy, touchy." I rolled my eyes and tried to restrain my smirk, deliberately failing.
In a way her appearance made sense to me, the Goliath people lived in the high, unforgiving peaks. Extra body hair simply meant more isolation against the vicious cold. Yet her full thicket of hair would probably interfere with what I had planned, so...
"First things first," I told her while looking her in the eye, "Let`s get you cleaned up."
§3
Day 1
I touched my hand to the ground, willing a summoning circle into being. The webwork of lines and symbols spread from my fingertips as if it were running water, arranging itself into the desired shape in a heartbeat.
"
Surge amica posco auxilium
."
The words had barely enough time to resound of the dungeon walls as the circle flared into existence and a portal opened. The low hum of the active gateway filled the room. The sub-sonic buzzing to the pocket dimension of my own design always sent a shiver down my spine.
"Come on out, Oliver. I have a task you might like." I spoke, pitching my voice as if to carry across a crowded hall.
inquisitively, a transparent tendril emerged from the portal. It`s ruby coloring unmistakable against the opalescence of the portal. The creature quickly scanned its surroundings before fully materializing in our reality and with a snap of my fingers I closed the portal behind him.
"What in seven Hels is that?!" The bound woman demanded, with a hint of panic tinting her words.
"This..." I clarified, flourishing my arms to present the Red Slime, "is my dear companion and colleague; Oliver."
The slime gave off an amused ambience via his own peculiar way of communication. The sensation of him, smiling, was telepathically projected into my mind.
Would you do me a favor, boy? Clean her up for me?
I asked him mentally.
Oh, but leave the hair, please.
Oliver projected a sensation of affirmation, which reminded me oddly of a predator licking it`s chops before pouncing onto unsuspecting prey.
The slime flowed smoothly over to the large, bound woman. She was obviously quite uncomfortable to see the mass of semi-liquid sentience approaching her.
"Get that thing away from me, mageling!" she yelled as Oliver made contact with her foot and glided upward.
"Don`t be such a baby," I responded mockingly, while picking up her apparel from the floor and folding them neatly over a chair nearby, "he`s just making sure you`re nice and clean."
And indeed; everywhere Oliver`s gelatinous form settled, the grime was dissolved in moments. From experience I knew that the little creature`s body generated a warmth not unlike a steaming bath, so essentially we were cleansing our guest in a manner that was quite soothing. Especially compared to the cold water and scratchy brushes I myself used daily.
She`s lucky I`m such a gracious host
, I thought bemused.
Meanwhile, Oliver had covered her entire lower body, up to the rounding of her breasts, when he mentally 'tapped my shoulder'.
Ah, right. I`ll tell her. Take care not to damage the necklace, by the way. I want her to have it after we`re done.
My eyes focused again on my guest. "I advise you to hold your breath for this last part." I told the barbarian. "He promises to be as quick as he can."
She covertly tried to angle her face away from the slime`s tender embrace. But seeing as she was bound, had nowhere to go. At the last second, before Oliver covered her chest, shoulders and head, she gasped in a deep breath.
I stood there, arms folded, as the maestro worked. He diligently removed and absorbed every single speck of dirt I could see covering her skin.
Distantly, I felt the muscular woman staring daggers at me through Oliver`s transparent form, but I was too busy ogling her breasts.
Being completely enveloped in the jellylike substance, her alabaster tits bobbed as if they were submerged in water. As Oliver moved in his undertaking, the shifting currents caused the barbarians luscious breasts to press together. This created a mouthwatering amount of cleavage, which left me practically enthralled. The undulating motions of her chest perplexed me for longer than I`d care to admit.
Then, just as he had promised, Oliver quickly uncovered her face and slid liquidly down her body. She was left glistening, sparkling clean and panting as the satisfied creature moved back towards the summoning circle.
Amazing job, boy. You`re the best.
I thanked him, willed the summoning circle into life again and watched Oliver depart through the portal, contentedly purring while he digested his treat.
§4
