The Deviant of the Dark Ages Ch. 03

Chapter III: Revenge is a Dish Best Served with Bondage

Anna was living her own personal slice of hell. The supple body she'd spent years training to its physical peak was being stretched even further beyond her prodigious limits. If she was anyone else, her ligaments would surely now be strained beyond what time could heal. And to Richard, she assumed, she was no one exceptional, so it must be his intention to inflict permanent impediments upon his victims. Or perhaps he just didn't care; perhaps he merely saw her as expendable meat to be tenderised as his sadistic whims desired. Whatever the case, there was not a muscle in her body that wasn't sore from straining in one direction or another. Her shoulders were the worst—at this rate she'd have to kiss her right hook goodbye, and still her sadistic host continued to adjust her restraints and groom her hair as though she was an inanimate ragdoll in his deviant fantasy.

But then it got worse. Her previously-neglected crotch received an innocent rub. And another. Despite the aches all across her body, this new sensation was producing an itch she didn't realise she wanted scratched. The rubbing continued until it was no longer just hitting the spot, but fuelling a fire. Unsought lust engulfed her until sexual release was something she needed, and she was utterly dependent on her captor to deliver it.

Her body was turning traitor—such carnal indulgences were beneath her, especially at a time like this. But she was in no position to shake off the persistent finger stroking the soft lips between her crouched legs, or to shake anything except perhaps her protruding bust. After a half-hearted attempt to twist out of her unyielding restrains, Anna convulsed with guilty pleasure as the stimulation overwhelmed her. These convulsions turned to erratic twitches as she tried her utmost to escape the wriggling digit.

Were she able to, she'd be hanging her head in shame—she'd barely put up a fight against the surge of lust that had gripped her, and now her well-meaning altruism was soiled by base sensuality. Fortunately, her powers were still with her, for her maidenhead was yet intact. But even if her body's reactions were beyond her control, her mind was not, and she could not deny that she had enjoyed the involuntary climax far more than she should. This disgusted the sorceress and drove her hatred of her serene tormentor up to the level of a sizzling malediction. She would see him suffer if it was the last word she breathed.

"So... tense..." he admonished as he ran his hands around her heaving form, slick with sweat despite the cool subterranean air. "What would it take, I wonder, to loosen you up a little?"

He squeezed her crotch as he said this, making her tiptoes stumble and sending a wave of discomfort propagating across her cramped form. Anna huffed angrily into her silk gag, her rosy cheeks bulging out around the tight band of cloth.

"Awww, is my little slave struggling?" Richard teased her, prodding her firm engorged breasts. "Tell you what, I'll give you something sweet to suck on."

He dropped his velvet-lined trousers and unsheathed his impressive shaft. Though Anna had never been on the other end of one, she'd seen enough men disrobe in her travels to know he was a monster in more than deed. She would actually be intimidated if this reveal didn't carry a joyous implication: he was about to ungag her.

Anna froze as he reached down to loosen the gag cleaving her lips apart, not daring to move lest her anticipation betray her intention. She'd have but a split second before her mouth was refilled with a much less desirable gag. And so, the moment the silk was pulled from her mouth, she spat out a word in the ancient tongue. Richard's eyes widened in surprise as he was lifted into the air and flung across the room with the force of a sledgehammer.

But this would only detain him temporarily, Anna knew. She'd made that mistake once already. So she followed with another spell to send numerous shackles and restraints flying over to pin him to the wall, muttering words of power until Richard was surrounded by more metal than air. She didn't know the limits of his strength, but that should buy her enough time to free herself and the other unfortunate slave girls.

Her next spells were more calculated: she had to unbolt and untie countless restraints one by one without seeing what she was doing or putting herself under further strain. After a few minutes she finally collapsed to the ground, exhausted but otherwise unharmed. She was eager to conceal her nakedness, but that would have to wait until she could find more suitable clothes. She wasn't going anywhere in that frilly dress. Not that she was ashamed to wear it—it was simply too restrictive to manoeuvre around in.

She climbed to her feet, rolling her numb shoulders and wincing as her nipples seared with pain from their recent release. Freedom! Anna could scarcely believe her luck. With Richard out of the picture she had only to deal with his dimwitted manservant before freeing the others. She left the bedroom and began checking other doors along the stone passageway. As she beheld the contents of each room she began to form an increasingly disturbing image of her host's pastimes.

Most cells seemed to be outfitted for one purpose: torture. There were torture chairs, torture racks, torture cages, torture wheels (or Catherine wheels, thought Anna, her heart sympathising with the poor girl who must have been its namesake), and just about every other contraption associated with the word torture. Upon seeing each devious contraption Anna involuntarily empathised with its imagined victim, her heart pounding ever faster as fear and despair flashed repeatedly through her. In her mind, she was locked in a narrow human-shaped cage suspended above the ground, her arms pinned to her sides as sharp tools poked at her unprotected flesh... She was trapped on a pyramid-shaped saddle, its pointed edge buried deep in her nether region as she winced in pain with nowhere to go... She was curled up inside the belly of a giant bronze bull, gasping as the metal around her grew uncomfortably warm and listening to her own distorted wails as they echoed through a system of tubes and escaped as distant moans of anguish.

The predicaments may have all been in her head, but the creeping dread Anna felt was all too real. She had to get away from this depraved place.

There were many other peculiar contraptions in the rooms she passed—cunning arrangements of wood, iron, leather, and hemp—and while she didn't know how they all worked, they all made one fact painfully obvious: the unfortunate victim whose neck went on the block was not in for a pleasant ride. Other rooms housed primitive holding cells, and there was one room which stank so badly Anna could only gag and back straight out.

She found Ripper in one of the many torture rooms, but it wasn't a rat he was torturing. Another ruby-haired girl had her back arched across an overturned barrel, her arms and legs pulled wide in opposite directions. Her face was fearful, and no wonder: the mammoth torturer was twirling a cat o' nine tails between his thick fingers, its ends whistling dangerously through the air, murmuring a repeated mantra that sounded suspiciously like "rip her." Fresh scarlet lines decorated the girl's bare navel and chest.

Ripper spun around and registered surprise upon seeing the smiling, unfettered Anna. He truly was a sight to behold: a mountain of black muscle with calloused hands and well-defined creases where his cruel smile normally stretched across his face. All that muscle was useless against magic, however, and Anna quickly had the manservant pinned to the wall just like his dazed master. It was a testament to Richard's extensive fascination with torture that there were enough contraptions lying the room around to bury the servant's hulking figure in more metal than a dozen suits of armour.

Anna knew her improvised restraints wouldn't hold the powerful creatures forever, but she'd at least bought enough time to free the other slaves. She started with Ripper's victim, loosening her wrists and ankles so that she could wriggle off the spine-bending barrel.

"Thank you," said the girl, her voice thick with an exotic accent Anna didn't recognise. "The back-breaker becomes most uncomfortable after many minutes."

Her English was clumsy, and she spoke in a husky tone that together with her dusky complexion was suggestive of a tribal background. But Anna knew from her travels that nomadic tribes hadn't been seen in nearly a century—just how long had this young woman been Richard's slave?

"How long have you been down here?"

"But a few hours. James allows us stretching time often." She said this matter-of-factly as though describing the habits of a man who walks his dog. While it came as a relief to Anna that the girls weren't simply locked in that closet indefinitely, she would hardly consider being whipped over a barrel to be adequate exercise.

"James?" Anna queried.

"The master of this house. You have seen him? I think I am in trouble now," she whispered, her voice quivering. So James must be Richard, as Anna knew him. It didn't surprise her that he had multiple pseudonyms. If his cunning ever proved insufficient, it would never occur to the incompetent authorities that a single man was guilty of such unfathomable counts of abduction and murder spanning multiple identities and multiple centuries.

"Hey, no one's going to hurt you anymore," she assured the frightened girl. She put her arm around the girl's bare shoulders. The two of them made quite the sight: two flushed naked girls amidst a mother lode of varied torture devices, like rats in a lion's den.

"But how long have you been here with James?" Anna pressed, her curiosity fighting her desire to let the girl recuperate.

The girl's eyes glazed over for a moment before she replied, "Long. I do not remember what came before, only what happened after."

"What happened after...?"

"The gift he gave me. I will never forget it. A gift he can give you too, if you let him."

Anna shook her head in confusion. She was starting to speak in riddles—the girl's mind must be addled by her long captivity. What gift could such a monster possibly offer her that she'd actually desire? She decided to shelve the mystery for later—there were more girls in need of freeing.

"Wait here," Anna admonished. "I'll be back soon with your friends."

The girl nodded and turned away. Anna hurried back to the master bedroom where Richard was pinned to the wall. He began to speak as she walked in, but she quickly picked up the gob of silk he'd gagged her with and stuffed it into his own mouth. Then she took a long length of rope from the bedpost and wound it around his head to hold it in. She could have done all this in an instant with magic, but the personal touch felt more satisfying as she gagged her former captor and briskly slapped his cheek.

His trousers were laying on the floor where he'd dropped them, so she went over and extracted a large golden key from the back pocket and took it to the sturdy wardrobe door. It was the only key that would possibly fit the oversized keyhole—and sure enough, the mechanism made a loud clunk and the door gave way. Even so, it took all of the sorceress's might to shove it open—the door must have been constructed from solid metal with only a thin veneer of mahogany.

And there they were, still bound in their inverted suspension, still struggling futilely against their bonds. They stopped when they saw Anna, swaying gently as they awaited her move.

Anna grimaced as she went about releasing each girl, carefully lowering them to the stone floor to avoid any head injuries. As she ungagged each one they muttered their thanks but seemed otherwise devoid of enthusiasm at their release. It must simply be too surreal for them at this point—after potentially years hanging upside-down in an airless wardrobe, unable to speak or move, freedom must be a dangerous hope to have prematurely. She was sure celebration would come later.

Richard's eyes narrowed as he saw her strolling out with his captives in tow. Anna had half a mind to end his pathetic existence right there, but decided she would return to savour the moment once the other girls were escorted to safety.

She got as far as the end of the corridor before she realised she was hopelessly lost. The cobbled passageway split into two directions, neither of them looking like they would take her to the surface. Anna turned to ask if anyone knew the way out and discovered they were no longer behind her. She returned to Richard's room and froze in horror.

She could scarcely believe it: the girls had actually pried their cruel master free from his metal restraints and were lying in wait for her. When she entered, she was assailed by an aggressive mob of naked women, their hands crawling over her own nude form and forcing her to the ground. One girl shoved her fingers into Anna's mouth, grabbing her tongue before she could defend herself with magic. She was now trapped at the bottom of a massive pile of sweaty bodies, crushed on every side by firm abdomens and thighs. If she wasn't on the verge of suffocating, she might have died from humiliation.

There was no sensible explanation for their betrayal. Anna had let her guard down for a moment, thinking she was in the company of fellow victims who yearned for vengeance—but as though of one mind, they had freed their savage captor and turned on her without the slightest hint of hesitation. Why?

"That will do," rumbled a voice from above. The crushing weight around her slowly eased off until Richard's tauntingly gleeful face came into view. Only the girl holding her tongue remained; some others had shifted around behind her, hugging her arms together as if they were human restraints.

Richard swiftly pulled out the girl's fingers and filled Anna's mouth with a sturdy leather gag, tightening it far more than necessary just to drive home her doom. Anna's eyes flashed with anger and fear, the latter gradually taking over as she considered her chances of a second lucky break.

On Richard's order, some of the girls left to free Ripper while he addressed the one who'd had the initiative to gag Anna with her fingers.

"Tell me your name, pet," he commanded. Anna glared at him. He didn't even remember his slaves' names?

"Sara, master."

"Well, Sara, you have pleased me greatly. Open your mouth."

Sara's chest swelled with pride as she obediently opened her mouth widely and waited. Anna watched in disbelief as Richard sprouted fangs and bit into his own wrist, his eyes glowing red as he pressed the wound against Sara's waiting lips. Almost as surprisingly, the girl seemed to like this reward—she sucked greedily for several long seconds until Richard pulled his wrist away.

Ripper entered the room, his eyes narrowed at the restrained sorceress. "Rip her! Rip her!" he bellowed, making her jump. Suddenly his name made sense, and Anna was all the more intimidated by the dark-skinned brute.

Smiling, Richard said sinisterly, "Patience, Ripper." Turning to Anna, he continued, "Had I known you were so talented I would have treated you accordingly. Yes, truly," as she rolled her eyes, "I have searched too long for someone of your talents, and it is time to bring that search to an end."

He grabbed her shoulders and plunged his sharp fangs into her neck as she flinched and squirmed in protest. Blood drained from her body and gushed out her neck as Richard's lips formed a seal around the twin punctures and sucked her life-force away. She was going to die right there, limp in the arms of a ruthless vampire. Her limbs were lead and her head was drowning in ale. She couldn't even scream, and not for the gag stuffed in her mouth—she simply didn't have the energy.

But somehow, the sorceress clung to life. She felt as feeble as a newborn when he finally pulled back, grinning with blood-stained teeth.

"Well, you are special," he murmured. "Annabeth, is it?"

Her formal name sent a tingle down the girl's spine as she realised he'd taken more than just blood from her.

"So young, yet so accomplished. I had indeed heard the name, but... I must say I expected more." Anna weakly strained to get at him, but her efforts only made her light-headed. "How frustrating it must be to require something as easily removed as speech to unleash all that power... Now I need only keep you muzzled like the bitch you are, and you shall be rendered as harmless as a kitten."

Anna trembled in his hands. She wanted to point out derisively that he was mixing metaphors, but her usual defiance was crippled by her weakened state. Then she realised what he'd called her. Bitch. It was the first time he'd lost his composure, even for a moment, and resorted to petty name-calling. For all her frustration she hadn't recognised his own: he was inwardly teeming with rage that his dominance had been challenged by another, especially one so young. It gave Anna a small smidgen of hope that she could still somehow triumph over him.

He laughed. "I should be thanking you. It appears you have dedicated your life to eradicating my competition. The delectable women of this world have never been so vulnerable, for without the savage beasts of mortals' nightmares preying upon them they are ripe for the tasting."

"And to think, if only your saucy informant had been truthful with you, I might have been a toasty crisp by now," he taunted. Anna was bewildered. Her informant? What did she have to do with this? "Alas, you were kept in the dark, and now the dark is all you shall ever know."

He licked her neck where two droplets of blood were growing and closed his eyes in satisfaction. "There is a slight tingle to your blood, did you know that? You are a mystical young woman indeed." He grinned and stared her intently in the eyes, his piercing crimson irises locking with her wide silver ones. "For so long I sought to know how you came to possess such power... How glorious to find one whose blood reveals all! I am awed by the discipline it must demand of a luscious exotic woman to deny herself all intimacy for as long as she lives, and for what? So you can crawl through struggle after struggle, scarcely denting the immutable forces of darkness? I see now I am unable to take your power for myself, but it will be an honour to free you from your futile crusade."

For all his feigned sincerity, Richard couldn't hide the smirk from his features as his hand slid threateningly over Anna's virgin mound. She twisted away in defiance, but her feeble struggles were as a fly ensnared in a spider's web. Losing her powers was a fate worse than death. To be brought so low... She had no doubt that Richard knew exactly what defiling her would entail: the victim it would make her, not only now but for the rest of her life—she would forever be at the mercy of every hot-headed man who looked at her in lust, at the mercy of every corrupt official or cruel oppressor, and vulnerable to every evil creature that prowled in the darkness and preyed on the weak. After all the creatures she had seen and fought, she'd never sleep soundly again.

It would take an utterly merciless individual to subject her to that fate, yet she didn't doubt for a moment that her ruthless captor was capable of it. He was, after all, a vampire. She felt stupid not to have seen it—the unnatural strength, the ageless appearance, the enthralled slaves, even his antiquated speech, forgoing informal slurs—how could she have missed all the clues? While she'd never had the pleasure of meeting one, she knew enough about the immortal creatures of the night to have her muscles clamp up in fear: they lust for blood, but can survive indefinitely without it; they learn their victims' deepest and darkest secrets and assimilate a lifetime of knowledge from just a few drops of blood; they can turn others into vampires at will, but usually prefer to turn them into hapless slaves instead, enthralling them by an unnatural blood bond without bestowing any of a vampire's enviable strengths; they're swifter than an arrow, stronger than an ox, and the most cunning and cruel beings who are capable of speech. Unfortunately, Anna knew little of their weaknesses, if they even had any—but she'd never met a creature that could live without its head.