This story contains bondage, kidnapping/damsel-in-distress, and other sexual themes. I recommend you turn away if that does not interest you.
Also, this is a direct continuation of a previous story. If you haven’t before, I recommend reading that one first here.
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It was impossible for Irelia to tell just how long she’d been in this van. The lack of windows, for one, made it impossible to tell where the sun was in the outside world. It was only the pattering of heavy snowfall against the vehicle which gave Irelia any sense of her location, either. A single, dull light attached to the top of the vehicle served as the only lighting source… but Irelia could do without it. The only thing it revealed to her were the stares of her captors upon her body.
She shook herself back and forth, trying to pull her body off of the two laps that shared it--her legs supported by one of them while her upper body the other. Her efforts this time were just as useless as her uncountable attempts before, with each and every one of the bindings strictly forced upon her body holding just as true as they were the moment applied. She’d hoped that the electronic cuffs would run out of power or that the knots tying the thick cords together would somehow loosen… or… or…
It didn’t matter what fantasy Irelia came up with. None of them came true. And even if by some chance one did, then what? Having her wrists free would hardly be enough when the rest of her body--elbows included, was still tightly bound, and she was sharing the van with half a dozen slavers who couldn’t keep their eyes off of her. E-Every single restraint on her body would magically have to loosen at once, a-and even then, she was devoid of her blades while they still had their weapons and more restraints to spare.
Feeling these men still running their brutish hands along her body, however, was enough motivation to continue fighting back anyways. In response to her futile struggles, one of them smacked a hand down upon her bottom, causing it to roughly jiggle within her bodysuit as the pain radiated through her body. At this point, it wasn’t the initial shock that hurt anymore, no, it was the dull ache constantly present after dozens of spankings, inflamed by any sort of touch around her ass. The fact that her bodysuit still dug into her skin securely certainly didn’t help with that.
She bit down, stifling a cry of pain to not give her captors the satisfaction of it. But it was practically a routine at this point--when a bit of pain failed to draw a reaction from their defiant slave, they simply switched tactics to indulging in their own pleasure. The hand came upon her bottom once more, but it was to squeeze her curves instead, now having the unintentional side-effect of still inflicting some pain upon the woman given how sensitive the area was. Irelia began to squirm once more, thrusting her forward as best she could in her condition, but that was hardly enough to escape his grip.
“Trying to get my attention?” The man who the upper half of her body rested on teased, knowing full well that wasn’t the case. His hands descended onto the damsel as well, wiggling underneath the space between his knees and her chest until they found their way to her breasts, squeezing them just as roughly as her bottom was. She winced at the added sensations, struggling to ignore them all.
Don’t give them the satis--mmf--faction of a response… d-don’t…
Irelia told herself this, but her body struggled to respond in kind. It was impossible to not shift or struggle under these conditions, and eventually, a single, barely audible “mmphf” escaped the Ionian’s gagged lips. Something as simple as that was enough to elicit a few chuckles from the men surrounding her.
“Hey. It’s about our turn with the new capture, isn’t it?” One of the men sitting across from them asked. A few sighs escaped the two who currently had their undivided attention on the lady, eventually moving their hands from her curves to her shoulders and hips after a few final elongated seconds of teasing.
She was pulled away and given to the others just like that. No struggles to be had that would be any degree of effective against them, no resistance she could muster up to prevent being passed around like a used toy. Because even if she did every drop of energy that she could squeeze out of her battered and exhausted body, it would not even be close to being enough.
Still, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t take an opportunity when it presented itself. The man currently holding her leaned his head down close to Irelia’s own, staring straight into her eyes with a nasty gaze upon them. His lips opened to say something demeaning: another taunt or tease or–
“Gah!”
Irelia’s head flicked upward straight into his, and a scream of pain was all that had the chance to escape his mouth. The attention of everyone sharpened onto the man and Irelia with pairs of hands gripping and tightening around her to hold her in place, one now additionally pinning her head down to someone’s lap to ensure that headbutting was not something she’d be doing anymore. Despite how little such a simple act of rebellion did to change her situation, the woman couldn’t help but feel a little bit of satisfaction swelling within her as she watched the man grip his nose, probably bleeding underneath his hand.
It made her feel like she had just a little more control of the situation. And that was something that the slavers wanted to squash to the ground as much as possible. In a state like this, two fingers would be enough to have the woman begging for forgiveness. One of the men brought his thumb and pointer finger to Irelia’s own nose, before firmly squeezing her nose, cutting off the airways.
The intent of the threat was obvious to Irelia the second it was placed upon her. Her efforts to inhale anything failed whether she tried by mouth or nose: the former prevented by the thick covering of tape around her mouth and the latter by the man’s fingers, and for perhaps thirty seconds Irelia maintained her steadfast resistance.
Then she began to struggle. She threw her body against the grips of the men who held her, but they were secondary to the completely inhibiting bindings lashed around her body which felt all the more prevalent when they played such a key part in hampering her breathing. Realizing that she wouldn’t be able to escape if the man so wished for it, her eyes turned up to the man’s, a desperate gaze present in them for the first time.
“No more headbutting?” He asked simply, and Irelia had no choice but to nod, pressing her face up and down as best she could to signify an accepting response.
“...mmmMM!” She shouted through her gag, waiting for the man to acknowledge it. Her lungs began to burn as the pressure against her nose held tight, trying to convey her “yes” however possible before–
Finally, it was released, and labored, intense gasps for air flowed in and out of her nose. The rest of the men laughed at her, amused at the fact that they’d finally gotten the proud Ionian to panic–to beg for them. Irelia hardly even responded to that or the hands slithering upon her body once more, focusing on one thing at a time. She paused, as her eyes focused on yet another pair of fingers nearing her nose, her body growing eerily still as wondered if he’d do it again to her.
Yet another set of chuckles elicited from the surrounding men at her response to the mere threat of it. The woman growled into her gag, trying to shake off the humiliation and effects of that man’s threat… though she remained awfully still for the remainder of their journey.
Hours of gropes, taunts, and occasionally forced struggles melted into one another before the van suddenly came to a stop. Traveling for so long without any indication of where exactly they were going made the woman wonder where exactly they could be now. If they were still in the wintery hellscape that was Freljord, then at the very least she could tell that the snowfall had stopped, but if they’d somehow made it elsewhere then…
Then she wouldn’t know, Irelia realized, as a blindfold slipped over her eyes. The leather material tightened around her face as the man pulled its straps taut, clearly wanting to remove as much information as possible. Perhaps it was just to make her feel as isolated as possible–to make sure that her situation felt as hopeless as it really was. Her body was soon picked up, shifting as her stomach was thrown over one of their shoulders as she was taken away from the van.
Sounds of all kinds entered her ears, but none of it was particularly useful. Chatter amongst the men about their capture today… and other women, to Irelia’s dismay. Given how covered her face was and how resistant her bodysuit was to the cold, it was even hard to tell if they were still deep into Freljord, or along the edges which bordered another nation. She didn’t have much time to figure out anything more about her surroundings, however, as she heard another door open, this one bringing her inside somewhere.
Steps echoed throughout whatever room she was in, and the rhythmic thumping of her body pressing against his shoulder was enough to confirm that she was being brought down somewhere. The lack of specifics was stifling–almost as much as her inability to do anything at all to change her circumstances was. At this point, the only thing her struggles accomplished was drawing out a tighter grip on her body from her captor, and that was hardly desirable.
Her head perked up when she heard something creak open. The instinctual response was obviously ineffective given her blindfold, but it was familiar and distinct enough that just by sound Irelia was certain as to what it was.
A cell. And unless she learned how to bend metal, this really was the nail in her coffin–the last thing that was certain to seal her fate. Even if she could wiggle out of all her bindings somehow, even if they loosened over minutes or hours or… possibly days, she loathed to think about, so long as she was trapped in a room with sturdy, metal bars… how would she escape? They wouldn’t be dumb enough to leave the key laying around her cell, Irelia figured, and then that’d be–
A grunt escaped the woman’s gagged lips, muffled as it was, as she was unceremoniously dropped to the ground, interrupting her line of thought. The fall was slightly cushioned by some kind of padding, but rolling around on whatever this was… hay? Regardless, she could tell immediately that her stay wouldn’t be particularly comfortable if this was all she got.
“Alright…” the man who had been carrying her began, “Don’t go anywhere.” He chuckled to himself before his footsteps echoed throughout the halls once more, and the clacking of an iron door being shut was enough to produce a sinking feeling in the woman’s head. Ignoring the man’s command, she tried rolling around her cell, feeling just how small it was when it only took a few turns to reach one of the walls. Eventually, the sounds of his steps faded into the background, and the blade dancer was left entirely alone.
She… couldn’t just wait around, right? This was the first time in hours that she was alone–the first time since her capture. S-Something had to give, right? But it was still impossible to stretch out her fingers from the tape-covered balls they were forced into, or wrench her wrists apart more than an inch, or…
Irelia went further and further down the list of her restraints. Where could she possibly start?
—--
The dull ache in her limbs was not the most pleasant thing to awaken to, and yet it was the only thing the Ionian had to greet her each time her consciousness returned to her. Irelia didn’t even shift or struggle anymore when she came to, the sensation of being bound becoming far too familiar for her liking. The only freedom she’d experienced during this state was the mildest she could’ve dreamed of: her captors ripping the tape off of her fists, only to reapply a new, fresh and sticky batch a minute later just to ensure that nothing was loosening anytime soon.
Lost in the blackness of her blindfold, her sense of time wavered quickly. Sometimes she’d slip in and out multiple times in an hour, her tiredness building with how impossible it felt to get a full night’s rest, let alone a relaxing sleep at that.
However, the woman was entirely alert when she heard footsteps once more. Her anticipation for something beyond this nothingness of being held in this static state of captivity outweighed her concern for whatever purpose the men could have with her now. She began to shift and roll about her cell once again, soft grunts barely making it out of her cell as the door to it clanged open once more.
She wasn’t caught off-guard by the hands which went straight for her body. The squeezes around her curves felt like a tax that every man who passed by the cell seemed eager to indulge in, but what did surprise Irelia was the fact that these hands seemed to have a purpose beyond violating her. One of them ran up along her body, tugging and pulling at the blindfold which had somehow become one of the most inhibiting restraints for the Ionian to deal with. Relief coursed through her body as it was loosened and finally removed, blinking a few times as her eyes adjusted to the shift in lighting.
Her cell was as unceremonious as it felt, cracked and dull but still sturdy enough to secure a properly restrained target, evident by how it was enough for her. The woman’s eyes drifted downwards towards the man’s hands, now intent on… pulling her up?
“Mmm..?” Her questioning tone was not lost in translation through the gag, and she wasn’t particularly opposed to finally being brought to her feet once again. Now that Irelia thought about it, this was her first visitor in a while… s-she didn’t want to get her hopes up, but just because she didn’t recognize the man didn’t mean that he was a bad guy. Had someone finally found her, giving her the assistance she needed to break out of this–
“Auction’s finally ready for you, girl. From such a militant warrior to just mere merchandise…” Whether intentional or not, the man’s delay in answering her question had been enough to snuff out her hopes just as quickly as she had raised them in her mind. She muffled a curse into her gag, wondering just how delirious she was from sleep deprivation to not immediately realize a savior would likely skip the groping part…
A moment later, and Irelia realized just how tired she was when her mind finally caught up to what the man had actually said. Auction. Merchandise. The man was getting her ready to be put up for display, sold, and transported to wherever in Runeterra her buyer wanted her: Zaun, Shurima, or heavens forbid, Noxus. The notion itself was infuriating, and yet Irelia had little time to waste her thoughts on that when she had to honestly consider what would come next. Perhaps her new buyer would be less competent in storing her, but any hope of someone following her trail and tracking her down was greatly diminished by this news.
The one thing that Irelia couldn’t get out of her mind was just how laxly dressed the men in here were now. It was to be expected somewhat: that heavy-duty military gear with weapons and restraints was far too cumbersome to be worn unless specifically for battle. While the man before her was still lightly equipped, it was hardly comparable to what she had to go up against when she was captured.
If she got free somehow now… then it’d be a whole lot easier for her to fight back against them when they weren’t expecting a brawl. Her situation still felt impossible to escape from, but the desperation sinking into her mind made any little potential advantage all the more worthwhile to consider.
And frankly… if she was about to be sold off, then they could hardly punish her anymore for her resistance, right? Finally pulled up to her feet, she turned towards her captor, having put only an inch of distance in-between their faces, and she pulled her head back just a little bit–
Clearly, this wasn't one of the men who had captured her, or he'd simply forgotten about the little headbutting incident in the van.
She closed that distance with as much force as she could muster, smashing their heads together immediately. The recoil was bad, with pain immediately shooting through the front of her head but expecting it made it far more manageable. On the other hand, the man crumpled to the ground, completely dazed–no, more than that, it was enough to knock him out entirely! Irelia wanted to look over his body, maybe find a key or a sharp object of some kind to begin escaping with… but her taped fists reminded her that taking anything from him was practically impossible. She had to deal with those first…
Irelia shifted her feet forward towards the barred doors of her cell–thankfully left unlocked by the man, squeezing through the exit as she looked around the area for whatever would serve her best. J-Just something to cut away at this damn, sticky tape!
The best she could find on such short notice was a sharp corner of the wall. It was one of the advantages of this place being so worn down with such little maintenance seemingly done on it. She turned her back to the wall, pressing her fists against it and sawing back and forth, over and over, each second it took feeling like an eternity as her eyes shifted between the halls and the cell in case either someone new came along or the one she’d knocked out awoke. Relief coursed through her as her fingers finally began to poke through the ripped tape.
She wanted to go back to her cell, to check the man for anything he might have. After all, so long as those cuffs were locked around her wrists, Irelia had little chance of removing any other part of her restraints. But just as she was stumbling back through the door.
“Hey! She’s loose!”
A voice from the hallway north of her shouted out, immediately striking a plunging feeling into the woman’s mind. She pulled away from the cell as best she could, knowing that messing around with the fallen guard’s body would take far longer than however long it’d take for the one who just noticed her to close the distance between them. She knew she couldn’t outrun him, but gazing off into the other halls with no such men within them was far too tempting to pass up on.
Irelia knew she had to make the most out of what she had, and she only had time for hopping at this point. Landing on two feet with the rest of her body bound was difficult–let alone keeping her balance as her momentum threatened to carry her forward, but perhaps her skills as a dancer assisted her greatly in succeeding at that. Just one hop at a time… focus on a rhythm… get in the mindset… calm, steady, breathing…
Her tactic was working, but just not fast enough. It didn’t matter how good you were at hopping when the one chasing you had two legs entirely unbound. She didn’t dare to look behind her, the sound of footsteps closing in more than enough to raise her awareness as her hops became more frantic..!
When her eyes turned up from the floor, having been most concerned with ensuring she landed on two feet, Irelia knew her escape attempt was over. Another man was only a few meters in front of her, cocky enough to simply stand there and let the maiden choose whether she wanted to jump into his embrace or let the one behind her catch up. Sighing through her gag, she finally turned back just in time to see the man roughly tackle her to the floor in a frankly unnecessary act.
“Slippery little…” The man easily overpowered her, wrestling her down to the ground as she kicked and struggled in meaningless resistance. “You really are one icy bitch.”
The man wasted no time taking advantage of her current state and rectifying the slightest opening they’d left her before. Rope hung from his waist, and he pulled it free to bring it to her ankles, tying it through the sturdy cords they’d used to bind her before and leave a long strand which he pulled up towards her back.
“You there,” He looked up towards the other man who seemed to just be content to enjoy the show before him, “Let’s make this a little easier on ourselves… get her something to put her out cold for a moment.”
Out cold..? Memories of that nauseating substance that had been forced against her mouth during her capture was the only thing that came to mind. In a place like this they’d surely have plenty lying around, and the fact that the man immediately went off to get it at the other’s orders was enough reason for the woman to squirm around some more.
“MmmPHHF!” Her current captor was smart enough to keep his head a fair distance away from hers as he worked, connecting the rope attached to her ankles right through her elbow restraints, preventing her legs from being used for anything else other than furious struggling.
With the frosty fighter now firmly secured, the two of them had plenty of time to share before finally getting the woman to her ultimate destination. The slaver certainly wasn’t going to miss out on this final opportunity to indulge in his capture’s curvaceous body, squeezing that bodysuit-clad body for every last drop of pleasure it was worth. Her resistance almost felt natural at this point–necessary to keep her pride as useless as it ultimately was.
And how much pride did the warrior really have left? The brash and crude actions of one man accompanied by the presence of another was now more than enough to take her down at this point. Her body ached from all the torment and abuse it’d endured in the past days, and the longer she was kept like this, the more her muscles would atrophy and the weaker she’d become. Was her fate truly destined to become bleaker and more hopeless with each passing hour? I-It couldn’t… s-she had to... mmf...
Her eyes shot up when she registered the footsteps once more. Just as she feared, the other man had returned with a cloth, dripping wet as he tossed aside a small but emptied bottle. He hesitated for not even a second as he kneeled down and stuffed it in her face.
Irelia couldn’t hold her breath forever, and soon the familiar, intoxicating scent slipped into her nostrils. There were no games to be played with the chloroform this time, no fighting back against it, nothing but enduring the forceful application of the coated cloth until it overtook her entirely. Her eyes flickered, desperate to hold onto consciousness for even a second longer..!
P-Please… just…!
Her head fell into the cloth limp, as the frosty fire within her was extinguished.
—--
Murmurs slipped into Irelia’s mind as it and her body finally began to regain their strength. It felt like parts of her were returning one at a time: her hearing first, given that sound was the first stimuli that forced its way upon her. One voice was particularly loud among those which entered, but she still couldn’t quite grasp what the rough voice was saying. The familiar aching of her stiff and sore body returned a second later, but it took quite a bit longer for her to even try and force her heavy eyelids open.
W-What was… what is..?
Her eyes flickered, catching glimpses of masked figures before her. Below her, in a way, but at such an angle where she couldn’t immediately tell if the height difference was because they were sitting and she wasn’t. Eyes turning down, she saw her bound legs, forced upright and straight in a standing position.
T-That felt strange… contradictory… for some reason. She wracked her head for the answer, remembering fragments of moments before she’d fallen asleep. Jumping… tackled… ah..!
S-She distinctly remembered being hogtied upon being caught once more, too confused and dazed to be disturbed that such a fact came without surprise to her mind. But since that was the case, why was she now tied like this? Her legs jolted, attempting to shift forward numerous times only for her mind to catch up to the fact that they were tied to something.
A pole. A tug of her still cuffed wrists and she realized that her arms had been tied to that as well. She was finally able to keep her eyes open for more than a couple of seconds at a time, and that was when everything finally pieced itself together.
She was dead-center in the middle of her own auction. Elevated a few feet up on a stage, it gave the surrounding buyers a perfect view of her body from head to toe, something to which they each took great advantage of. An open room was entirely before her, tables and chairs seated around with the attention of dozens focused entirely on her. Irelia could see a few of them circling around her, and though her perspective was limited thanks to being so securely tied to the pole she could only imagine that they were simply getting a view of both sides of her body. The bound merchandise struggled softly, trying to pull herself around the pole to get a full view of the area.
“Ah, and it would appear our sleeping beauty has finally awoken!” A loud, confident voice boomed from behind her, the only thing significant enough to drive any attention away from her. “Rest assured, as peaceful as she may have seen in the past few minutes, this warrior will not break so easily…”
The voice’s role of auctioneer became evident quickly as he drummed up the crowd. He stepped right next to the prize on display, hands pointing and motioning towards every marketable aspect of her body, surely invoking the jealousy of every man below them as he freely ran his hands along her curves, so juicy and perfectly accentuated by the bodysuit beneath her bindings. He practically taunted them with the privilege of touching her every inch which he and he alone had… but a privilege that could easily be bought if they were so inclined.
It was only when numbers were finally thrown around the room did Irelia get enough of a shot of adrenaline to truly struggle. Her efforts went from merely reacting and instinctively resisting the man’s touches to actively attempting one final, desperate escape, as hopeless as it may be! Such fervor finally being drawn out of the Ionian’s body happened to invigorate the crowd as well, seemingly more interested at finally seeing the proof of this “proud, Ionian warrior” which was advertised for them as having the opportunity to break.
The number only kept inflating, and even though Irelia hadn’t the slightest clue what currency they were bidding in, the electric excitement coursing through the room made it clear enough that it was significant. All she could do in response was keep pulling and struggling in futile resistance–
Her heart stopped when the voices competing among each other suddenly came to complete silence. S-She didn’t even hear what number had last been called out, b-but that couldn’t be the final one, it couldn’t be the price that these lustful, greedy men decided that her freedom was–
“And sold!”
…N-No. That couldn’t be it. T-This couldn’t be it! She watched in abject horror as one of the men among the crowd stood up, masked presumably for his own anonymity as he proudly climbed up upon the stage, more than eager to claim his bought prize.
Footsteps from behind her approached, and only in the corner of her vision did she see a collar being placed into the buyer’s hands. She noticed how his palms dropped slightly as it was placed in them, an early indicator of the heavy, sturdy metal the device was made out of as it was brought to her neck. It clamped shut around her neck with a locking sound a second later. Irelia realized the metal was colder than anything she’d felt before.
Ropes were being loosened behind her, but Irelia could tell they were only the ones that connected her to the pole. Her eyes couldn’t rise up from the floor to check anyways, her mind still in utter disbelief.
“You know, we happen to sell shocking collars for slaves just like this one…” The auctioneer suggested but was met with a courteous refusal by the buyer.
“Tempting, but my methods of breaking slaves are far more… personal than electricity. The woman who tarnished my glorious Noxus’s pride surely deserves those, don’t you agree?”
Just as she’d most feared, a rich Noxian had purchased her. Her valiant resistance against that nation would be reduced to a personal struggle against merely one untrained aristocrat who had but all the tools and time he needed to break her…
“Certainly,” the auctioneer agreed with a smile. “Of course, if you ever wish to bring her back here for an event, we would be more than eager to see what you’ve done to her. You Noxians aren’t the only men she’s offended recently…”
A nauseating chorus of laughs was shared between the two. “Quite. I’ll consider it, though I’m certain your men will be more than fairly compensated financially. This woman was well out of the budget I’d set for myself tonight… but certainly worth it all.”
The bindings connecting her to the auction pole were finally all released, but a leash was the last of the additions to her restraints, connected directly to the front of her collar. A harsh tug forward was the first of many reminders of the iron collar’s presence along her neck.
“A few of my men will escort you to your transportation. Trust me when I say you can never have too many precautions with this one.”
And just like that, she was carried off of the stage to make way for whichever poor lady was up for sale next. Just as promised, a couple of extra hands surrounded her as she was led out through the halls. While the man did have her leash in one hand, his left was planted firmly along her bottom, more significant in pushing her forward as he took excessive gropes and squeezes which the proud warrior had grown far too used to.
All she was to him was a toy, to play with, break... and discard if he so wished. The thick collar locked around her neck reminded him of the power he had over her now. He had no responsibility to hold back anything if he so wished.
For the first time, the thought of being good crossed into Irelia's mind. S-She couldn't break so easily, b-but... mmm...
"Eager?" Her buyer--no, owner, asked her. Irelia's glare back wasn't exactly confident, her intense gaze to return wavering after a second.
"Well then," he remarked with a smile, "we'll see just how long it takes to defrost you, hmm?"
Irelia's eyes turned towards the ground as she shuffled forward, following the man. I-It wasn't worth putting up a fight now... b-but she'd still resist whatever he had planned for her. She was... sure of that.