Karina The Sorceress Ch. 04

"Ilias," said the man, looking at his buddy suddenly. "How long since you've used a female?"

The second man frowned, and then both sets of eyes turned to look at me. I realized my face was still slightly flushed, and my nipples were poking against my thin top. The men were looking at me in a most ungentlemanly manner. "She looks ripe, doesn't she?" said the second man.

I gasped, shaking my head rapidly, "No! What . . . don't even think it," I warned, trying to look threatening. It was a difficult task dressed like a slave girl, with one's wrists bound behind her. I was too late, for one of the men was opening a side door, and I was quickly pushed into the room, sputtering protests.

The room was small, dominated by a low cushioned platform against one wall, like a bed, but lower. I suddenly felt myself lose my balance as I was pushed onto the platform, my face landing on a pillow as I was unable to use my arms to stop myself. I quickly scrambled to turn over and face the two men. One of them was unbuckling his sword belt, and that sight made my insides tighten with fear.

"Go ahead and scream, girl," said one of them. "These walls are filled with sheep's wool to quiet the sounds of pleasure. Or pain." The man stepped forward to grab my bare ankle and dragged me toward him.

"No, don't!" I burst, trying to kick him in vain. His hand took a fistful of my hair, forcing me into a kneeling position on the soft platform.

"Show us a little respect," said the man, his hand twisted painfully in my hair. I thought of screaming, but my voice caught in my throat. "Please, please don't do this," I said, the fear making me change tact. He only grinned, reaching a large hand down to squeeze my breast, drawing a groan from me.

The second man's pants were already down, and he reached into his underwear, pulling out a large and partially erect member. His buddy looked on in admiration, saying "What do you say, Ilias, would you like her to service you with her lovely mouth, or her tight little flower?"

This wasn't happening, couldn't be. "You c-can't do this . . ." I stammered, unable to tear my eyes from the terrible weapon attached to this ordinary looking man. His hand was squeezing my breast, his fingers tweaking my poor sensitive nipple, which responded against my will. He pulled down my top, exposing my breasts, and I moaned in despair, shaking my head.

"Oh, not to worry," said the ring leader whose hand gripped my hair. "we're not unreasonable men. We'll give you pleasure as well as taking it. And we'll clean you up after, so no one will need to know. It will be our little secret," he added, with a laugh.

I turned to look up at him, shaking my head. Desperation was making my mind work double time. "But they will know," I said, "I will tell them!"

The man shrugged, "they won't believe you. You're just a criminal. And a female." He was right of course, and I felt despair flowing into my veins. I was near panic, and I looked about the room, trying desperately to think.

"They w-will believe me," I stammered, fear making me quake as I spoke. "B-because I'll describe this room, in detail." I used my shoulder to gesture, fear making my voice quake. "That shelf there, w-with the green chalice and red leather prayer book. That crude painting of the Elorian mountains. This platform with sheets adorned with that purple crown, whatever it is." They looked at me blankly. I had to spell it out for them. "How will I have known the inside of this room, if you claim to have taken me directly to sentencing?"

Suddenly the man looked less sure, I could almost see the slow-moving wheel inside his head that passed for a brain. Encouraged, I continued. "I'll tell them about your friend's huge, crooked . . . thing there. They'll wonder how I could know about that, huh?"

Would they even know such details about a guard, I wondered. Apparently yes, I could see that from the look of shock on both faces. They were wavering, their confidence shriveling, as well as other things. I added the final jab.

"What will they do to you two, for raping a woman as . . . attractive as me, before I'm even sentenced? I'm guessing you'll be lucky if you're just fired. Maybe you'll go to jail with me?"

Crooked man was stuffing his now deflated member back into his trousers, and then he tied his belt. I felt the relief flowing through me when the other man pulled my top up over my breasts again.

"She's right, Quintus," the man said, "we're just guards. If we get caught soiling a fine slice like her . . . come on, hurry, let's go drop her off and be done with it!"

I bristled at being compared with a slice of something, but as the two men hustled me out of the play room, relief poured ever me. I couldn't help grinning to myself. I didn't have my magic, but I still had more wits than these two put together. That was some sort of comfort. I resisted the urge to gloat, however. Pride was a powerful emotion in men. No need to tempt fate.

We must have been close to our destination, for the next door the men opened was a fairly large grassy area that was actually open to the sky. The heavy clouds kept the summer sun from blinding me as I was brought over to one of a half dozen small wooden platforms raised about two feet off the ground. I complained as the men suddenly stopped next to one of the platforms and hoisted me up onto it.

"Kneel on it," one of them said, and I tucked my knees under me with a mumbled curse, not wanting to push my luck with these two men who'd nearly gotten away with raping me. I was grateful for the thin cushion placed on the platform, not covering it, but just big enough for me to kneel on, my thinly covered bottom resting on my ankles.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, as the guard reached behind me to pull my wrists. I could hear him doing something, and then he stepped away. He must have tied off the chain between my wrists to the platform.

"What are you doing?" I complained as they stepped back.

"We can't have you wandering off and getting into more trouble," he said. I felt ridiculous kneeling on the platform and I tried to find a more comfortable position by unfolding my legs.

One of the men slapped my thigh. "No!" he ordered, "you must kneel here, quietly, until you are sentenced."

"How long will that take?" I demanded, glaring at them both.

One of them laughed. "Not long, from the looks of you." I didn't know what they meant, and when that was apparent, they both laughed, even harder. Then their laughter died out, as they both stood there gazing at me, the curves of my breasts visible through the sheer material, two enticing peaks that they seemed to find fascinating. My earlier arousal had subsided somewhat. Yet at that moment, kneeling before two men, I found myself blushing at the twinge of pleasure I felt between my thighs, which were closed tightly to keep their prying eyes from seeing what they shouldn't. They seemed to be questioning whether they really needed to leave me alone. I shook my head, my anxiety growing again. Why wouldn't they just leave? Did men never tire of ogling helpless females?

Mercifully, a distant bell sounded, and the two men tore their eyes reluctantly from their kneeling prey, looked at each other and quickly hustled off to their next shift, leaving me all alone in the open air courtyard.

I knelt there for a minute, wondering how I'd gotten myself into such a mess. It was bad enough I was in this predicament, but why did I have to be dressed so scantily? I felt like an idiot. My skirt was so short that the way I knelt, if I didn't keep my knees closed, anyone in front of me would have a nice view of my tiny panties. Tiny split panties, I remembered with a groan. Who created such a thing? Surely not a woman. At least the chain had fallen out, and now dangled loosely against one thigh.

After another minute, I'd had enough, and I eased my legs out from under me, twisting so that I didn't have to sit upright. My ass felt barely covered by the skirt, sitting this way, but I didn't care, for there was no one to see me. Suddenly I heard the patter of running feet. I turned just as Alex appeared at my side, his eyes filled with concern, and . . . something else.

"Karina, I found you! And . . . what on earth are you wearing?" Alex was looking at my panties with the fascination of a young male. I quickly straightened, snapping my thighs together with reddening cheeks.

"Alex!" I gushed, "what took you so long!" I wanted to lean in and hug him, but of course it was impossible. As if reading my mind, he leaned down and gave me a tender hug.

"I was able to sell the ring!" he exclaimed with a sheepish grin. "Now I have enough money to get you out of here."

I grinned at the thought of the demon's precious ring ending up on some rich proper lady's finger. "Get me out of here, how?" I inquired.

"I don't know," said Alex, his hand going to his chin. "What are you arrested for?"

"Adultery," I explained, with a look of disgust. "The demon put some mark on me, that identified me as an adulteress. Is it still there?" I used my bound hands to point. Alex nodded unfortunately.

"Adultery," repeated Alex. "I don't know the punishment for that here, but maybe I can bribe an official, or . . . I'll claim I'm your husband!"

I shook my head. "I don't need you to do that, I just need my magic back, and I can make the mark go away."

"Okay . . ." said Alex, "but I thought your magic was going to return since we removed the ring?"

I shook my head, "I thought so too, but it hasn't. I think I know why." I looked at him, embarrassment making it difficult to continue. "I think I need to climax, to complete the cycle."

Alex gasped a bit, then after thinking, he nodded. "That does make sense, from what you told me of the ring. So what will you do?"

I nearly laughed at the innocence in his eyes. "Alex! My hands are bound . . . I can't do it myself . . . you have to help me."

His innocent look disappeared, replaced by shock. Alex's mouth was opening and closing like a stranded fish. "Karina . . . I . . . I can't do that, not here, not like this!"

"Yes, don't be silly, of course you can!" I corrected hopefully, leaning toward him. "Please, Alex, just . . . use your hand . . . it won't take much, with the state I'm in."

"Karina!" he shushed, embarrassed by my frankness. "Women shouldn't say such things!" He thought for what seemed like a minute, seemed to change his mind. I watched, nearly salivating, for my need had grown high at the thought of his hand relieving me of my need. He reached out, his hand sliding up my bare thigh. I gasped, then widened my thighs, encouraging him. His hand slid higher, making me tremble in anticipation. Then suddenly he withdrew his hand.

"No Karina, I just can't, please understand, it's not right. I . . . I'll just go talk to the magistrate, get this cleared up. I'll be back very soon, just . . . don't go anywhere."

Where was I going to go? "Alex, no, please!" I begged, but he was already hustling away, as if eager to be out of my sight for fear of changing his mind. In just a few seconds, I was alone again, only now the terrible fire in my belly was rekindled. Minutes past, and no Alex; my legs were aching from kneeling on the platform. I was ready for my 'sentencing' by that point, eager to get a chance to explain myself. The demon wouldn't be able to follow me forever, especially if they sent me to some jail, and as soon as his magical adultery brand disappeared from my body, the reason for detaining me would disappear as well. As soon as I was free, I was going to track that bastard down and roast him with my best fireball.

"You just wait," I murmured out loud.

"Wait for what?" said a deep male voice from behind me. I gasped and twisted my neck around.

"You!" I hissed. It was the demon, he must have entered from the one open doorway behind me and out of my sight.

"My my," he said, moving around in front of me so I didn't have to crane my head to glare at him. "What have you got yourself into this time?"

"Me?" I sputtered in outrage. "This is your doing! You just wait 'til that brand you put on me wears off, then I'm coming after you."

The demon looked offended for a second, and then he grinned, looking down at me. He towered over the low platform I knelt on.. Damn if he wasn't almost painfully handsome, especially dressed as he was in formal leather armor, his muscular arms bare as he stood there with arms crossed on his chest, gazing down at me. I blushed suddenly, when he seemed to realize the effect he was having on me. Then he spoke. "You're not ready for me yet, sorceress. But you're making progress."

I remembered what he'd said, back in his cave. About how the ring would prepare my body for his eventual use. My jaw fell open as an image popped into my head, of being taken by this powerful being. I trembled slightly, then pushed that thought from my head. "That's not going to happen. Clever, getting me sent to jail, but I don't know what you hope to accomplish -- once my magic returns, a jail won't be enough to hold me."

"What makes you think they'll send you to jail?" he replied, in a matter of fact way.

I blinked in confusion. "Why . . . what else would they do?"

He seemed to find great satisfaction in giving me the bad news. "Where you come from, adulteresses are made into slaves. But in this district, such crime by a female is punishable by death. Carried out immediately after sentencing I believe. Married men don't like their wives cheating on them, it would seem. When do you expect your magic to return, because I think the sentencing will start any moment now?"

The world suddenly dropped out from underneath me, and I felt like fainting. The demon's hand came to my shoulder to steady me. I looked up at him, and instead of cruelty, his eyes were almost tender. Almost. "They . . . they can't do that . . ." I muttered in a daze. Then I glared at him. "You! This . . . this is some trick, you want something from me!"

The demon raised an eyebrow innocently, but I would have nothing of it.

"No, I know you," I continued, grasping at hope. To my own ears, my voice sounded pitifully strained, fearful. "You don't want me dead, s-so just tell me what I have to do, t-to avoid . . . such a fate."

The demon simply shrugged. "I confess I wasn't any more aware of the local laws than you were. You might have thought of that before you screamed back in the room."

It couldn't end like this. I'd always found my way out of trouble in the past, had I not? I looked up at him, pleadingly. "You put it on me, you can make this brand go away!" I told him. "Make it disappear and they'll let me go."

He shook his head, his look serious. "It doesn't work that way. The spell will last the night, I can't undo it. I suppose you'll simply have to convince them of your innocence yourself."

I sunk my head in defeat, tears coming to my eyes. I felt an almost gentle hand on my head, tilting my face up to look at him. Were it any other man, I might have been touched by his gentleness. Were he even a man. "Look, just do your best to act . . ." he gestured in the air, "repentant, and . . . obedient. Powerful men can't resist that in a woman, if you convince them that you've mended your ways, and you'll never betray a man again, I'm sure you'll get off with a lighter sentence."

He wiped a tear from my cheek, and I suddenly felt a ray of hope. He seemed to be telling me the truth, I was sure he didn't want to see me executed either. And he was right, that men couldn't seem to resist a woman who acted like that. Under normal circumstances, obedient and contrite were not my strong points, but these were not ordinary times. "All right," I nodded with a sniff. "I'll . . . try."

"Good, that's more like the sorceress I know," said the demon, his deep, grumbly voice resonating pleasantly in my chest. "But you had better confess, if they think you are the lying type, it won't go well for you."

He was probably right. They'd never believe me if I claimed it was magic that put the brand on me.

The demon held up his second finger to point at me. "Now don't revert back to your usual difficult, stubborn self either."

I shook my head in agreement. My life was at stake, I'd have to keep my pride in check.

"If a man comes to pass judgment on you, you might want to . . . offer to service him."

"What?" I exclaimed, my eyes widening. "Service him?"

"Yes," said the demon, giving me a knowing smile. "I think you've proven your lips are quite talented."

"I . . . I couldn't . . . do such a thing!" I protested, tears welling up in my eyes.

The demon shrugged. "It's your neck." Then he paused, cocking his head. "Wait . . . they're coming."

I sat up straight in alarm, not hearing or seeing anyone, but the demon had extrasensory perception. He suddenly gripped me by both shoulders. "Quickly, sit up straight, up on your knees, that's right. And keep your back straight; good, just like that. Now remember, obedient and repentant, say it."

My eyes widened. "Obedient and repentant, I got it. I can do that," I replied, looking about as he let go of my shoulders and moved away. Just as the demon left me, a stocky man dressed in dark leathers entered from the same door I'd been brought through. He was followed by two guards, better dressed than the previous ones, yet more impressive in stature as well. The man saw me, not even noticing the large frame of the demon disappearing through the open doorway on the opposite side. I tried to sit still and calm my trembling insides, as I nervously watched the man approach, his two guards in trail.

He was of medium height and muscular, dressed formally, and he had a stern look about him. Like a judge, I realized. He stopped in front of me, looking me up and down. He reached out to touch the chain that dangled from my collar, but thankfully he didn't use it to torment me. Then he moved around behind me, and I felt my skirt lifted up behind me. He gestured to the two guards.

"Remove this chain from the prisoner, it is obscene. And the collar as well."

I tried not to look too grateful, but it was a blessed relief to be rid of the chain. When the guards were done, the man looked down at me directly.

"Adultery is the charge," he said. It wasn't really a question, but I felt compelled to speak anyway.

"Yes, but I—"

"Silence!" he commanded, moving around in front of me again to shoot me a hard look. "You will speak only when spoken to, and you will address me as "Sir." I gulped, nodding quickly. Obedient and repentant, that was me.

"Good, now tell me as simply as possible, your side of the story. You said . . . the brand was put on you? By magic?" He looked skeptical, to say the least.

I hesitated for only a moment, and then the words burst from my lips, half acting, and half fear driven. "No, I . . . I'm sorry . . . Sir. I made that up!" I whispered, as if wanting only him to hear it. "I . . . it's real, I was convicted in my own lands, where the punishment is less severe . . . had I known, I'd never have—"

"Yes, yes," he interrupted, "so you admit you are guilty?"

I looked at him, trying to determine if admitting my guilt was going to be a smart move or not. But his face was impassive, almost bored. The next part was easy, for it was nearly true.

"My . . . my husband was an evil man, he—he used to beat me . . . so I ran away . . ." Well, he'd tried to beat me anyway. It was a mistake to try to beat a skilled sorceress. And we hadn't been married, therefore no adultery. But I didn't mention that.

The man held up his hand. "How many men have you taken to your bed?"

It was a strange question, and I answered without thinking, "Only one, my . . . husband,"

Slap! One of the guards struck my face, not hard, but enough to snap me to attention. I looked up in confusion.