Slave to the Empire:
Ranger 2
Aerick was numb. The past two days had been an ordeal that he never
would have imagined in his darkest fantasies. He was both mentally and
physically exhausted, aching in places he didn't know he had. Everything was an
evaluation. A test as it were. The woman who tested him varied with each test.
The very first being endurance, hence the enema. The second test was one of
crisis. He was restrained to a post, his arm left free to hold two ropes. One
rope was attached to a set of weights that threatened his genitals. The other
rope was attached to a set of weights that held a rope at this neck. The
quandary was simple, which did he value more, his life, or his manhood. He held
on for as long as he could, his arms burned with stress as he tried valiantly to
hold both ropes. The agony was excruciating when he released the rope that was
attached to his genitals. He heard the pulley snap as the rope raced through
it, and braced himself for the pain of emasculation, but it never came. He was
released from his torment and dragged to his next test, one of intelligence.
His feet were encased in a set of stocks with his hands left free to manipulate
the puzzle box before him. His captors did not make mention of how long he
should take, nor was he informed that it was a timed event. He worked as
quickly as he could, the puzzle encompassing everything in his perception. It
seemed the puzzle operated on multiple levels, utilizing all his senses to
unravel its mystery. By the second day he had solved it. He was allowed a
brief rest before the last test. His dexterity was pushed nearly to the
breaking point, evading the numerous swinging weights as he walked a small board
across an open pit. He made it across the chasm into the waiting arms of
Syrena. She eased him to the floor and held him gently. She was impressed by
the abilities demonstrated thus far.
"General?" One of her guard spoke.
"Take him to one of the holding cells. Let him rest and feed him.
After he has recovered, bring him to me."
"Yes General." Two of the guard saluted and dragged the semi-conscious
Aerick to the lower chambers of the keep. He slept on a straw bed, then ate a
surprisingly decent meal out of a wooden bowl. He curled back up onto the bed
and tried to relax further. His body rebelled at the abuse he had suffered.
Every rumor or myth he had heard about the Empire paled in the light of the
truth. He sensed no true malice in their attitudes towards him. No rage or
anger. Just a simple joy at working at what they do best. It was strange, not
to mention unsettling. A healer tended to his hurts, which were thankfully few,
and he was soon brought to the chambers of the General in the most secure part
of the citadel. He stood at attention before her as she worked at his desk, and
in the space of moments, he took in her chambers. They were spartan, a
warrior's quarters that held nothing of real value, with the exception of the
warrior's weapons and armor. A simple bed lay against the far wall, no silks
for her, just plain blankets and furs.
"Are you finished?" She asked, not looking up.
"My apologies Lady. I did not mean to intrude."
"No offense taken boy." She replied, looking up at him. "You are a
fine specimen, a perfect blend of human and elf. The resilience of a human with
the quickness and agility of an elf. Not to mention a sense of honor. A pity
so few Sun Elves could claim such qualities."
"Is it the intention of my Lady to discuss the short-comings of the Sun
Elf tribes?"
She laughed. "How very droll." She stood and walked around the
cluttered desk and examined him in great detail. "Yes, you'll do nicely."
"My Lady?"
She narrowed her eyes in thought.
"There is a question how much I should tell you now." She worried her
bottom lip. "Damn." She swore, returning to her seat.
"How familiar are you with Iceholme?"
"It's not my personal pick for a vacation spot if that is what you are
asking. I know it well."
"The Ghost wood mercenaries made a name for themselves facing the dark
armies of Iceholme in the past, years ago if I recall correctly."
"Yes my Lady." Aerick felt himself relax slightly. "About two hundred
years ago the Ghost Wood mercenaries engaged in several border clashes with the
armies of Iceholme."
"Back in the day when Gilead had a spine." She interjected.
"True my Lady, very true." Aerick agreed. "The fall of House Koloth
heralded the end of the 'Golden Age' of Gilead. Since then it has been several
power plays by the various houses to gain the Oak Throne."
"You are from one of the more powerful houses are you not?"
"You know I am my Lady." Aerick shuddered, remembering the hostility of
the house where he grew up. There was no joy whatsoever in that place.
"There is a specific task I require of you. If you are successful in
this you and your warriors will be freed to return to whatever endeavors you had
started on."
"May I ask what this task is?"
"You may ask." She spoke. "But you will find no answers. At least,
not yet."
"Yes my Lady."
She stared at one of the few tapestries that graced the walls in her
chambers. "I understand you encountered Cymra the Black."
"Yes."
"Describe her."
Aerick shuddered at the memory. "She was armored in black, her skin was
like alabaster. She wore no helmet, and was bald. She carried some kind of
enchanted blade, and she was able to survive a soul-drinker arrow. Is there
some way to kill her?"
"Yes. But that is not your task." She leaned forward and rested her
head on the back of her hands. "While you are here, I expect you to obey every
order without question. Do you understand?"
"Yes my Lady." Aerick snapped to attention.
"Good. You will find your experience here no stranger than when you
first joined a military order. We will be very hard on you, but fair. Obey,
and you will be rewarded. Disobey, and you will be punished. It is as simple
as that." She withdrew a set of knives. Each one was different from the others
in terms of size and style. She examined each one intently, before selecting
two of them. She moved from the desk to slip her finger into the ring in his
collar, then led him to her private chambers. A single bar hung horizontal from
the ceiling by a chain. There were no other forms of device in the room, only
the bar. She tapped the bar with one of her daggers.
"Grab the bar." She ordered. He obeyed, holding on as she disrobed
him. The simple cotton pants were cut from him, and he stood quietly for her
next move.
"There are no restraints in this room." She announced, circling him.
"This room is used for disciplinary problems in the ranks. I don't believe in
restraining a person, be it soldier or slave. What I believe in is instilling a
sense of self restraint. You will hold onto this bar, and you will not let go."
She raised a dagger to her lips. "This will be...most interesting."
His shoulders shifted at the touch of the blade at his back. The
sensations were sharp, the tip trailing down his spine. He felt no wetness, no
sound of flesh being split, yet it was the undeniable sensation of the blade. A
second blade joined the first, and they both danced along his flesh. He closed
his eyes and arched his back, his hand clamped down onto the bar as the tips
traced a line of fire along his outer legs, slowly snaking up, across his ass,
weaving up his spine, until the tips left contact with his skin as the base of
his neck. The cold metal of the blades tapped against his erect nipples. He
gasped at the pressure of the points, each one seeking out the sensitive tips,
pressing in gently. He couldn't keep his legs still as the blades sought out
his now erect penis, yet he kept his hands in place. The points teased the
underside of his penis, and he was caught between the desire to pull away, and
the desire to thrust out for more. His breath came in short bursts, the pain
transcended the threshold to pleasure. The blades left his penis and reapplied
themselves to his nipples, his body leaned forward, increasing the pressure. He
tried to understand, but his brain refused to leave the exquisite sensations he
was experiencing. He shuddered, the blades again teasing his penis.
"You have permission to cum." She whispered, her voice seemed distant.
"If you can."
The pain/pleasure built slowly. He didn't know his own name at the
heart of it. The touch of her hand on his penis was odd, yet very pleasurable,
then nothing. All physical sensation was removed. His hips thrust the empty
air.
He ached for contact, and very nearly let go of the bar. And yet, he
held on. His resolve was tested sorely as the blades returned to their teasing
pattern. It overwhelmed him, and his seed spilt forth to splash against the
cold stone floor. He felt her hands peel his fingers from the bar and place
them at his sides. She rubbed the feeling back into his arms and shoulders,
then pushed him down to his knees.
"Clean up your mess." She ordered, then smiled at his search for a
cloth. "With your tongue."
He froze for a moment, then knelt further to touch his face to the white
pools of his essence. Her hand stroked his hair to reassure him, and he slowly
touched his tongue to the largest pool. It was...not totally unpleasant. Salty
and thick. He put it from his mind as he cleaned his mess. He swallowed
quickly, and stood on wobbly legs as She led him from the room to a small bed
chamber. He accepted the goblet offered and slowly sipped the wine. She set
the daggers on the small desk besides the bed and sat beside him.
"What are you thinking?" Syrena asked.
"Why did you do that?"
"What? Make you orgasm?"
"It...it wasn't-"
"Natural?" She offered. "Two things. First, I needed to see how far
you would obey. Second, I wanted to." She raised an eyebrow. "I admit that I
do enjoy seeing a young man in torment sensually. The blades are something I
learned along the way. They are very good at finding the sensitive spots."
"Oh." Aerick looked down.
"Things will work out for you." She said. "These are to be your new
chambers. You will have the freedom to roam certain areas of the Fortress, and
the Seneschal will have work assignments for you and your friends. Nothing you
haven't done before."
"Yes Ma'am."
"We will talk further later." She stood. "I would like to know some
more of your history."
"I am sure my Lady has volumes of information on the Sun Elf tribes of
Gilead."
"I do, but I always like to hear first hand accounts. There was a time
when Gilead was one of our strongest allies."
The door closed silently behind her, and Aerick lay back on the bed and
stared at the ceiling. He was still running on the adrenalin high from the
scene earlier. Nothing that she did to him hurt him, but it left its mark. It
awoke something inside.
Syrena returned to her office and poured herself a drink, then poured a
second and set it on the opposite side of her desk. She sat and waited for a
moment, closing her eyes as a small portal opened and a woman stepped through.
She was dressed in fine silks that accentuated her form. In her hand she
carried a staff of purest ebony. Her fair skin and golden tresses were accented
by the slightly pointed ears.
"Welcome and be seated sister." She spoke to the newcomer.
"Thank You Syrena." The woman sat and accepted the wine that awaited
her.
"What news have you?"
"Savren is doing well. In fact, he has progressed further than expected
in so short a time." The woman sipped her wine. "I had to obtain clearances
from the Empress herself to teach him the deeper sorceries. He will be well
versed in the magickal arts when the time comes."
"Still, I worry about him."
"I know you do." The woman replied with sympathy. "I have received
word that Hallia has already begun training her choice, as has Murelle."
"So it is going to happen."
She nodded. "We all knew that this might come to pass one day. I only
wished that bitch could have been eliminated before she became such a threat."
"The Empress at the time prohibited any action against her, hoping that
she would repent and return to the fold."
"There are some for which repentance will not wash away all the sins."
The sorceress frowned. She had not attained her position as Arch Sorceress at
the time of Exile, but had studied thoroughly the reports of the time from her
predecessor, and knew the true horrors that lay beyond the words. Much of what
was described therein mirrored what happed to her family long ago in distant
Gilead.
"Do not let the past anchor you. We will have to think and act quickly
if we are to avoid total war."
Aerick awoke to a hot meal. He ate quickly and quietly, enjoying the
meal and the wine provided. He still remembered the events of last night, and
he still felt the unseen marks of the knives. It was a struggle to try to
evaluate his emotions on the matter. He was no stranger to pain, his own
childhood and upbringing saw plenty of pain, but the way it was used to create
pleasure was something that he had no experience with. It both worried and
exhilarated him. A guard appeared to lead him to his owner, and he followed
quickly lest he give the impression that he was sloth in his duties. He was
ushered back into her office and took the seat across from her as she indicated.
She finished her paperwork and leaned back to stare at him.
"I trust that you are suitably recovered?"
"I am my Lady."
"Good. Tell me the story of Aerick." She sipped from a goblet. "Tell
me the tale that made you who you are."
Aerick took a deep breath. "I guess it all really began two hundred
years ago with the fall of the ruling house of Gilead. The whole royal family
was butchered in an orgy of death and destruction. There were no known
survivors of the House, and personally I believe the ones responsible for the
assassination would have quickly silenced any claimant they found.
"I was born into the House of Kelibourne. My mother was one of the many
slave concubines that my father purchased for the express purpose of breeding.
By the time he was finished, there were twenty children born to him from his
women. He was a bit unstable, and none of the other houses would have risked
their daughters to serve as a liaison to his house, despite the great power he
wielded. So there we were, innocent babes that were nothing more than
disposable pawns to him. Our mothers he kept alive just long enough to make
sure we would survive the rigors of childhood, then one by one, he killed them
or sold them off to common brothels. He was a monster in the greatest sense.
Those of us who did not develop according to his own lines were disposed of.
His 'goal' was to produce the perfect heir."
"And how did you get away?"
Aerick closed his eyes. "I killed him. He was in the process of
providing 'discipline' to one of my sisters when I took a dagger and stabbed him
in the back. I was nine years old. I took my sister by the hand and we fled.
We were separated in the escape, and I found myself working my way into the
border duchies, working where I could, stealing when I couldn't." He barked a
short, harsh laugh. "I found out later the bastard had a few priests in his
pocket and was resurrected the next day. The sister I tried to save was
sacrificed that he might live.
"I ended up in the Mercenary enclave at Caliban. There I worked
hundreds of odd jobs to stay alive, and soaked up all the information that I
could so that I would never be vulnerable again. Of course, as I reached my
fourteenth year, he found me."
