The Final Bondage of the Demon's Thrall
Part 2 of 2
A "Woman, Green" tale


The north side of the citadel was protected by lethal badlands which rose up immediately after the Gorge of the Unrepentables. It is said that in the gorge, one can hear the screams of the evil dead on night winds. The only way across the gorge was single heavily guarded bridge constructed over a millennium before. The bridge surface flew a hundred meters or more above the scant waters of the Forthwind River below. The Forthwind's meager trickle danced among boulders waiting for a thunderhead to raise it briefly to a torrent. On this sunny day two weeks after the failed execution of the Demon's thrall, people of the citadel lined along the south rim hoping for a glance of the naked woman and to observe her Final Bondage.

--

"Ah! Here comes the Prince and his men! Quick! How do my eyes look?" Lady Fay pressed the material of her facecloth tightly around her nose to provide the best view of the narrow opening of her robes to Shardna. Her bright blue eyes were ringed in dark paint with designs and jewels trailing to the sides.

"Perfectly intriguing, of course," Shardna responded. "The Prince will be rendered speechless by your beauty."

The Prince and his contingent moved to the front of the crowd adjacent to the throng of well-to-do young women who stood swooning and feinting. Each man surrounding the Prince was dressed in dark red tunics with fancy and bejeweled belts. The Prince himself wore a robe of a much more brilliant red lined with white spotted fur.

A man to his side raised his voice, "Good day, fair ladies! The Prince is happy to grace you with his presence."

At this announcement the Prince raised his hand, smiled, and nodded to the small crowd of women. "The Gods smile upon us all this day!"

"Tis true!" the henchman agreed. "A fine day for the witch to be neutralized."

Miss Teal called out from the crowd. "Why not just neutralize her with your hands, your highness."

"But, of course, my dear!" the henchman responded. "We all saw how the good Prince's sword shattered when the witch cast her spell upon it. But, afterwards he lay his royal hand along her face in a perfectly striking manner." At this point there was a tittering of laughter. "Imagine the witch's surprise as her demon blood fell from her wicked nose. I say the Prince should have continued his bare-fisted task and rendered the evil from the witch's dead carcass!" A small cheer arose from the crowd.

"It is wisest however," the Prince finally said, "to listen before resorting to violence, isn't it? And so, I allowed my father to convince me to cease my noble activity... And here we are today. Prepared to decorate the gates to the badlands with the witch, may her pitiful cries act as a warning to all evil creatures of the world."

"Exactly how?" Lady Fay spoke up. "What are we witnessing today?"

The Prince turned to the robed figure. "Ah! Beautiful Fay! A wonderful day to see you. As you all know, not only have attempts to kill the witch been hampered by her demon protectors. But also, the demons have attempted to mock our civilization by disallowing the witch any form of concealment. No cloth, no steel, no structure yet has been devised which can remove her naked flesh from the eyes of man. And so, her considerable, though treacherous, beauty stands as a constant temptation to man and woman alike. If one were to submit to that temptation she would pull her victim deep into the fiery depths of Leydon. Well, today, my father and I have devised a way to force her protector demon to make a choice. Please note the cage structure over here which the Wizard and his men have prepared."

The Prince pointed to a small lattice of steel bars and metal plates. A collection of acolytes sat at some distance from the structure, trance-like and gesturing. A hot fire burned nearby tended by several metal workers. Finally, the wizard himself, stood by a small table holding vials of variously colored liquids.

"This cage will not only be fortified by the most hardened steels ever forged before, but it will also be enveloped by some of the most advanced magical spells devised by the best wizards in the world specifically to contain the witch. I've seen bits of the research involved in the creation of this cage, and I must say that the work is quite impressive."

The Prince continued: "The witch will be placed into the cage. When her restraints have been hammered into place, the cage will be pushed over the edge of the cliff and out into the void of the gorge." The Prince turned back to the crowd.

"Why" Miss Teal queried, "don't you just send her over the edge of the gorge and to the rocks below yourself, my Prince? Her touch, as you have demonstrated, obviously has no effect on you."

The Lady Fay elbowed Shardna and whispered, "What a stupid bitch!"

"My innocent Teal," the Prince responded, "to do so would be folly. Just as one would not patch a small hole in a glass window by tapping a nail into the gap, so, too, one does not simply discard of witches with demon guardians. So, while I certainly could toss her over the edge.. easily... it is more wise to isolate the witch from any magic which may help her." Many in the crowd shook their head in agreement.

"Look!" a voice in the crowd called out. "The guards are bringing the demon's thrall up the road."

--

Niamh heard the roar of a crowd as soon as her escort of guards crested the hill. She hugged her breasts a little more tightly. She couldn't really see the crowd yet as the guards walked so closely together they were like a moving curtain. She was thankful that she was mostly hidden but knew that in a few minutes, the guards would part and she would be displayed in all her glory to crowd. She wasn't sure what was worse, her exposure or whatever ordeal they had planned for her this time. One would think that if one were permanently naked, then eventually, one would no longer be eaten so heartily by shame. But, still when the eyes fell upon her, they felt like insects crawling across her skin. They migrated to her most private areas - she could feel the stares pinching her nipples into a tight knots. She felt them stroking the delicate contours of her back side. She could feel them pulling at the folds of her naked sex which had remained hairless since she had awoken in the place. This shame unfortunately was only part of her curse. For, as her level of embarrassment increased, she began to feel a warmth grow in her loins. And, as her arousal became tangible, her level of shame would amplify again.

She could see the crowd occasionally now between the steadily marching guards surrounding her. Men standing expectantly; women attired in their beautiful, colorful robes; children running free throughout. All here to cheer her on to her horrible fate. Maybe she should just run away. The Goddess did not seem to want her to be killed. The sharp points of the spears would probably have no effect on her. Well, at least, the Goddess protected her from lethal blows. She had been beaten by many since she awoke to this nightmare and each strike hurt. If she tried to run, they would probably beat her down... So, she moved along toward the edge of the gorge within her cluster of kingsmen.

Finally, the guards stopped and those in front parted to allow her to look upon her future. Before her stood a narrow metal structure seemingly designed to contain her. Currently, the door was open awaiting for her entry.

"A cage?" she wondered. Her captors had tried locking her in a cage once before. Shortly, after her incarceration however, the bars had snapped, of their own accord, and fallen to the ground around her. Certainly, the King and his men knew about this occurrence.

To the side, a tall, thin, stern-faced man with long gray hair and robes stood gazing upon her. She could instantly feel his eyes raking up and down her flesh. "Bring the witch forward and secure her within the cage!"

Niamh felt the butts of spears jab into her back goading her forward. The cage was not a simple affair, but rather contained various crossbars and plates with round holes. To the side she noticed various bits of metal lay on the ground. She assumed the bits were attachments to complicate her bondage.

As she passed the old man he said, "Fear not, witch! Your new home has been constructed not only by metallurgists and alchemists, but also by some of the best wizardry in the land. There will be no escape for you this time. Climb into the cage and turn around!"

Through the bars in the back of the cage, Niamh could see the over the edge of the gorge and then, on the other side, the rise of the badlands. The brown and red hills rose up to a dark blue sky which contained only a single small white cloud. If only she could be a cloud, if only she could drift through the bars of the cage and float across the gorge and badlands beyond.

Niamh took a step up into the cage. The small floor was slanted. She studied her feet as she turned around and discovered the floor's slope forced most of her weight her onto her toes. A number of men ran up to the cage and waited for orders from the old man.

"Raise your arms!" Niamh did not move. She was frozen. If she raised her arms she would be completely exposed to the entire city. "Raise your arms, witch!" A guard landed the butt of his spear across her shins. Niamh yelped pathetically. The pain was so great that Niamh almost fell out of the cage. A battle began in her body whether she should endure more pain or more shame. Eventually, with jerks and starts, she raised her arms above her head. Tears splattered the ground below. Gloved hands grabbed her arms and pulled them high above her. They were fit into slots of some kind of plate attached to the bars. Two men climbed up in front of her with the plate's mate. They fitted the plate over her wrists. Next they used two large screws which they tightened with large, removable angled irons. When they were done, her wrists were held firmly in place.

Next two robed men approached with vials of liquids which they poured into openings on the heads of the giant screws. Popping sounds and heatless sparks cascaded down around Niamh. She felt a burning sensation behind her and was deafened briefly as two more men pounded heated spikes into the necks of the screws where they had emerged from the back plate.

Niamh's arms were now permanently welded in place near the top of the cage. She opened and closed her fists. The fittings that encircled her wrists did not pinch, but, regardless, their restraint was effective and unrelenting.

Her legs were pulled apart to a distance a little greater than shoulder width and shoved in grooves similar to her wrists. Again, with a practiced and sickening efficiency, the mating plate was screwed, doused, and welded in place leaving Niamh well stretched and immobile within her cage. As each piece was applied a cheer from the crowd briefly masked the sound of the chanting magicians who were casting spells binding her, further, in ethereal chains. A flurry of tears dropped from Niamh's cheekbones down to her chest and on to the ground around her leaving cool streaks where the soft breeze kissed them.

A bony hand cupped Niamh's chin. Another reached over her head and grabbed her nostrils. A third collected her long hair into a single bunch. Her mouth was forced open and some form of metal ring was shoved behind her teeth. Metal bands attached to the ring gag were quickly wrapped around her cheeks and her head was pulled upright and onto a metal plate with the appropriate concavity to contain any movement. The bands from the gag were pulled through the plate and hammered into a locking position.

As her captors stepped away, mouth agape, Niamh was forced to look upon the sea of people witnessing her incarceration. She let fly some guttural screams and struggled anew to escape her bonds, but the steel easily held her. Even when she closed her own, Niamh could feel the eyes of the entire city focused upon her naked flesh. Her back arched and her abdomen gyrated as she fought to escape the magician's bondage device. But the magician's next attachment stilled even that movement.

The next plate to be attached was like a wide metal belt. Its cold expanse wrapped her from hip bones to ribs and tucked in tightly around her narrow waist. The screws were threaded and slowly the plate pushed the air from the lower part of her lungs. Just as she thought she would be crushed, the men with their angled irons stepped back and the alchemists approached to administer their potions into the structure. A burning sensation, the stench of the forge, and the clanging of hammers informed Niamh of the permanence of her new belt.

Panic began to set in. Niamh was finding it difficult to get enough air. Even as she gasped desperately, she realized that she could only fill out the tops of her lungs since her waist was now crushed under the metal belt that held her so well in her cage. She also realized the vision that she must be presenting to the crowd before her as her bosom heaved with each inhalation. And upon crossing this realization her nipples hardened further as though an invisible hand was pulling them.

She became distracted from her display when she felt vibrations and heard more metal attachments being secured to the cage behind her. She heard the sound of metal on metal and then felt the bulbous tip of an intrusion nestle its way between the cheeks of her backside and settle against her tight sphincter. Her eyes went wide and a tremendous roar exploded from her lungs as, with little ceremony, the metal dildo was shoved up into her ass. As the invasion became maximized, Niamh felt the steel of the hook seat itself uncomfortably as it cradled flesh from the inside and around to her tail bone. Loud clinking sounds rang from somewhere above her head and shortly after, the penetration relented a centimeter or two, though the bulb remained well inside her and presumably secured.

"Open your eyes, witch, and witness your Final Bondage!" the old man bellowed. Niamh peeked enough to see the old man with hand on the barred door of her cage. "When we have finished our spell casting, this entry will no longer exist. This cage may as well have been forged around you."

The cage door slammed shut. Its bars were mere centimeters from Niamh's nose. Plates in the structure of the door at chest height pressed uncomfortably against her hard nipples. Glowing spikes were pounded into the joints and when the metallurgists stepped away Niamh saw the old man and his acolytes with their arms raised and eyes closed yelling enchantments. Niamh felt a stinging vibration all around her body and blue sparks began to arc from bar to bar on the cage. The stinging sensation sharpened until Niamh was certain that her tongue was on fire and breasts would explode. The crackling sparks, the noise of the crowd, and the screaming of the acolytes grew to a peak, climaxing in a clap of thunder.

Then, all was quiet, but for the gentle breeze that blew wisps of smoke through the crowd and out across the gorge.

"Now," said the old man, his eyes narrowed and focused upon Niamh, "push her over the edge."

A small eruption of drool sprayed between the openings of the bars of her cage, as Niamh screamed in fear. Niamh worked her tongue and lips attempting to beg for her freedom, attempting to conjure the Goddess who spirited her into this forsaken land. But no decipherable exclamation made its way through the ring gag.

Men carrying a large pole walked up to the front of Niamh's cage and planted the end in a notch at the top. A moment of straining and Niamh felt her cage tip backwards. She watched the crowd vanish from her view, only to be replaced by the blue sky. Her stomach tightened as a sense of weightless came over her, squelching her uncontrollable urge to scream. Niamh and her cage dropped below the rim of the gorge.

But then the cage caught on something and once again the rim of the cliff was in view. The wind continued to whistle around her and slowly Niamh's view shifted until she was looking far into the depths of the gorge below her. It was a moment before Niamh realized that her cage was chained to the understructure of the bridge above. And, as her cage swung forward again, she felt the hook deeply penetrating her posterior adjust itself in a decidedly unsettling manner. Apparently, it was attached to the chain and not the structure of her cage, allowing it just enough freedom to shift and remind her of its violation. She seemed to swing back and forth for an eternity - each pass accompanied by a sickening sense of vertigo.

--

On the south rim of the gorge, Claid, the wizard, chuckled quietly to himself, as he watched the demon's thrall pendulum underneath the bridge. Chance, a Queen's Woman, robed and veiled, turned from the scene with the quiet stoicism typical of her lot and gracefully scurried towards the Queen's tower of the distant castle. The King nodded in the wizard's direction and rallied his contingent to slowly move towards the city road.

After the cheers had subsided, the Prince turned to the throng of female admirers.

"So, you see, my father and I are forcing a decision upon the demon." The Prince gestured towards the cage, which swung below, far too far away for the common eye to perceive the details of the thrall and her naked form. "If there is any chance that it could, the demon must decide whether to break the steel structure from around her. Of course, if the demon chooses that course of action the witch will fall to her death upon the rocks below. And if not, she will simply swing in the winds of the gorge. Either choice will lead, for us, to a desirable result."

--

By late afternoon, the cage had settled. Niamh heard the breeze and the distant sound of the water far, far below. As the breeze gently pushed the cage, she was afforded a view of, first, the south wall of the gorge and then the north. If she rolled her eyes back she could just make out the understructure of the bridge to which her cage was chained. She dangled in the limbo of space between all these places in a magical, impenetrable cage.

As the sun slowly set in the west, cool winds rushed up through the gorge buffeting the cage and its captive. And as the stars slowly emerged in the darkening skies the gorge filled with the wails of the unrepentant.