0 - 0 - 8 - 20:29 - Aife

Aife awoke to the sound of banging metal. She had to work a bit to figure out where she was. She had fought three men at once. She had been tied up and abused. She was thrown in a box and lowered into the ground. Then they were digging her out. She saw Evanescent’s face. She had asked if Zeigh was OK. Evanescent had told her that Zeigh had saved her life. And then all went black.

Aife could not wait to see Zeigh again - just to thank her. But, where was Zeigh. In fact, Aife did not even know where she was. Somewhere in the castle perhaps? They had an infirmary in the castle. That is likely where Evanescent would send her.

Aife tried to look around the room she was in. It was dark. It was a little chilly. Her blankets had fallen off. There was a dim light shining faintly through a small barred window. Aife sat up and slid her feet to the floor. Something pulled at her left wrist. She was naked.

She pressed her ribs with her right hand. They seemed to have healed fine. They were no longer sore. Then she touched her left wrist. There was a cold metal thing wrapped around her wrist. It was some kind of cuff. Aife felt along the surface to the cuff. A chain was attached. It led off to a ring embedded in the stone wall next to her bed.

Suddenly a shadow fell over the barred window. There was the sound of a key in a lock and bolts sliding. The door opened, spilling light into the room. A robed woman walked in.

“Madam Aife, so nice of you to visit,” the woman said.

“What is going on?” Aife asked. “Who are you?”

“What kind of magic do you have? I heard that you were pretty well beaten up. But look at you now. A day later and you aren’t even bruised,” the woman said.

“I’ve always been a fast healer,” Aife said, flexing the fingers of both hands, making fists, then opening her palms again. “...Morgana.” She glanced down at the curled up pile of chain attaching her to wall, gauging how long it might be if fully extended.

“I’m sorry that the circumstances were as unpleasant as they were, but I’m glad that you have come to visit me,” Morgana said.

“I’d prefer to leave now, if you don’t mind,” Aife said.

“No,” Morgana said simply. “I always thought that you had short hair. Then again, every time that I have seen you before, you were swathed in those same bland gray clothes with your hood pulled up tightly around your head. Who would have known that you ever had such beautiful long, dark locks.”

Aife reached up to touch her hair and slid her hand down along its length, down to her waist.

“And you are really such a small girl after all. Muscles, but otherwise not so fierce without your outfit. Do you cover your appearance with some kind of glamor spell? You are really no bigger than an average slave. Pretty enough, I suppose. You could pass for one of my whores.”

“I work for the Princess. I don’t think that she will be happy to know that you are holding me here… Where? Are we in the castle’s dungeon?”

“The Princess is no longer in Cowen. No one needs to know that you are my guest,” Morgana said. “I really am curious about what makes you tick. I’d like to observe your healing capabilities. Do some experiments. Get some performance metrics - cuts versus bruises versus broken bones - determine the effects of starvation on your healing powers - all in the name of Magic of course.” Morgana had a wicked smile on her face. “Besides, you owe me.”

Aife groaned. “Fuck. I owe you nothing. I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Of course, you don’t, Aife,” Morgana said. “Because you forget things. Don’t you? You are always forgetting.”

“I remember how much of a bitch you are. That’s all that matters,” Aife said gauging the dimensions of the cell within which she was installed.

“Maybe I can even make you forget that,” Morgana said. “Over time.”

“What did you do with Karma?” Aife asked. “Is she locked in some room down here, too?”

“Karma?” Morgana chuckled. “I had nothing to do with her disappearance.”

“Oh, yeah? Bullshit!” Aife mumbled.

“You know, your Princess is much more devious than you think that she is. I think that it was the Princess who made Slave Karma disappear. It makes sense to me. Just think of the trouble she would get into in Joppa if her metal-modified, lesbian slut slave started talking about the nights they spent together. The Princess may wear a chastity belt, but I can assure you that there were a lot of orgasms happening in the Princess’ bed. The Princess had to get rid of her.”

“That’s bullshit!” Aife moaned. “Why would she hire me to look for her then?”

“To keep you busy, of course,” Morgana said. “To keep you busy until I had the chance to get you right where you are. Right where the Princess wants you. You are too dangerous to leave roaming around free - with your subversive feminism, ties to radical groups, independence. You are a danger to the status quo. The Princess ordered me to imprison you.”

“I don’t believe you for a second,” Aife said, fists clenching.

“Oh! And my slave that you tried to steal, Slave Zeigh,” Morgana laughed. “Did you know that Slave Karma and the Princess had convinced the poor incompetent slut that she should bury herself in the palace courtyard? They told her that she would transform into a tree. The day that you stole her from the castle, she was trying to convince the other slave girls to bury her. The Princess had convinced her, basically, to kill herself. You and your life have all been lies, Aife.”

Aife jerked the chain attached to her wrist, rattling the links in anger. Morgana flinched at first, but then laughed.

“I want to see Zeigh,” Aife said.

“Slave Zeigh is working for me,” Morgana said laughing.

Aife turned away from Morgana studying how the ring was embedded in the wall. Behind her Morgana began whispering something quietly. Words that Aife could not comprehend.

Suddenly, there was a screech - like metal bending. Aife felt a movement around her left wrist where the steel cuff was locked. The cuff was getting tighter, warping to match the contours of her forearm. Aife looked down and saw the opening for the key closing until no hole remained. As Morgana chanted the cuff continued to get tighter. Aife made a fist, flexing her muscle - attempting to resist the ever-tightening bond. She glanced up at Morgana who was standing in the doorway of her cell, casting her spell, reaching up to hold the door frame, steadying herself as though she was tired.

Aife leapt from her bed. Not straight at Morgana and the door, but rather off to the right. The chain straightened until the links strained against one another extending from the shrinking cuff on her left wrist and the ring embedded in the wall by the small cot. The fingers of Aife’s left hand wrapped around the chain and her momentum carried her body further from the anchorage until her left arm was straight and her feet were extended out into the room. But now the anchorage was a pivot point and she was gaining speed as she swung around back towards where Morgana stood chanting. Aife’s pointed toe hooked the hem of Morgana’s robes. She contracted her stomach muscles and pulled at the robes with her feet. She was unable to get a very secure grip on Morgana’s robes with her toes, but it was enough to pull Morgana’s lower body a little further into the cell. Aife twisted around and pulled on the chain in her left hand landing on her feet and looking up to find Morgana collapsing to the floor.

Aife jumped towards the door with her right arm extended this time, hoping to grab Morgana, but he old witch was able to scramble far enough away through the open cell door. She was cackling as she turned over to look at Aife. “No key will release you now.”

Aife stood with a sneer on her face, oozing with hatred. She watched as Morgana struggled to stand.

Morgana was breathing heavily when she finally had her feet underneath her.

“You are old, Morgana,” Aife said. “You will die someday soon.”

“Not for a long time, sweetheart. But when I do, you will still be rotting in here,” Morgana croaked back and she slammed the cell door closed. Aife heard the sound of the locks being secured and metal braces being slid into place. Something slammed over the barred window sending the room into darkness. Then nothing but silence.


0 - 0 - 8 - 21:19 - Joliette

Joliette had not slept well. She was still bundled up in the small cage-within-a-cage where she was destined to remain until the Metal Nomads completed the construction of her custom chastity device. She had no idea how long that would take.

After being wheeled off the stage at the Chastening Ceremony she had been transported through a maze of corridors into a windowless room somewhere in the castle. The wheels at the base of the cage had been locked down and the glut of people scurrying around the periphery of her cage slowly dwindled to just a few attendants darting in and out of the room.

No one seemed to be concerned with informing her of anything about her future. She had hardly the opportunity to even consider what her new role as the Last West Virgin might entail. All her attendants were more worried about the open gash on her right cheek. The pain was excruciating. Joliette’s training had taught her strategies to endure pain, many of which included breathing methods. However, Joliette did not want to do anything that might force her to move her cheek in any way. So, she had sat as still as possible, pressing her robe to her cheek, trying to stop the bleeding.

An attendant had used a long pole with a cup at the end filled with some sort of topical ointment which they bid her to apply to the wound. Her blood had dried into the robe, so when she pulled the cloth away, it felt as if she was tearing the wound open again. Applying the ointment was a tremendously unpleasant experience - feeling the unfamiliar chasm in the middle of her once-smooth cheek, but she did the best she could.

She overheard several attendants discussing the possibility that the arrow head that sliced her face may have been soaked in poison. Was death eminent? If any consensus had been formed, no one seemed eager to share the information with her. Why did someone shoot her? Was there some kind of violent revolution underway?

She wasn’t interested in trying to ask any questions. She did not want to have to speak. Occasionally, a pole was passed through the array of bars delivering cups of water which she tried to sip delicately. She did not want to open her mouth at all, and she envisioned the water leaking out the side of her face, though there was no evidence that the cut was quite so deep.

She cursed her situation. How ridiculous this all was! Locked in a cage to make her untouchable until her chastity was ensured. The closest doctors - only able to observe from more than an arm’s length away.

Finally, a roll of some sort of adhesive was passed into her void from which she tore strips to press down over the wound. Hopefully, her patchwork was sufficient to keep the blood from oozing. Hopefully, it would promote healing.

Joliette thought of her slave sisters as she sat, slumped against the framework of metal. Where was Olga now? Was she being auctioned off to the highest bidder to be a submissive wife? Was she being delivered to a breeding house? Would they ever see one another again? What was McNear doing? Was this going to foil all their plans?


0 - 0 - 9 - 02:37 - Pet

Pet was slowly healing from her abuse by the angry two-leggeds. Her midsection was feeling better each day. She no longer had trouble breathing or climbing into a standing position.

Her new handlers were not as cruel as her first one had been. Still, there was always two of them each holding a leash made of hard links of chain connected to her collar. They would stand on either side of her each prepared to prevent Pet from getting too close to the other handler. All this was fine with Pet. She had no desire to get too close to these two-leggeds. As long as they did not drag her around, forcing her to move from spot to spot, she was content. These two handlers seemed to be kind. They used soft vocalizations to get Pet’s attention - sometimes even using her name, “Pet” - the only vocalization that she could recognize. Sometimes they even placed treats onto the ground, which, when given the proper leeway with the leashes, Pet was content to pick up with her mouth and savor.

Also, these two handlers seemed particularly deferential to the Alpha - the Regal One - which Pet liked. She enjoyed watching other two-leggeds act in a caring manner towards the Alpha. Generally, before removing Pet from her cage in the moving cave, they would drape themselves in skins from the bed in which the Alpha slept. Pet could smell the Alpha on the handlers as they walked her outside and it made her feel calmer.

Recently, the world outside the moving cage had changed in the most magical way. The air was not so dry and filled with dust. Instead, it almost felt like Pet was being licked by a heavy wet tongue when she stepped outside. The dry, brown river bed had given way to green growths of scratchy earth hair that smelled so wonderful that Pet wanted to lie down and roll around in it. Sometimes they would even come across places where cold, fresh water flushed across the land from somewhere so far away, Pet could not even see who was pouring it. When her handlers allowed it, she would walk into the water and lower herself into its cold embrace, opening her mouth just to taste it.

The paths over which the moving caves travelled were not so rough and the gentle rocking would lull Pet into the most pleasant and peaceful sleeps. More and more though, their caravan came upon other groups of two-leggeds travelling with different purposes. If Pet was outside during a break in the travel, her handlers would quickly usher her back into the moving cave - doing their best to keep her hidden.

The night before, the Regal One and the two handlers were sitting around the moving cave vocalizing together and Pet was curled up on her cushion in her kennel, lazily gazing through the bars. Suddenly, there was a sound like sand blowing, but there was no wind and the rustle was a bit softer - more relaxing. The three two-leggeds stopped vocalizing and listened. There was a little tension in the air. Then the Regal One went to the entrance and removed the barrier and the sound came in louder. Her vocalizings became more musical and she was smiling and, despite the handlers’ warnings, she dashed out through the entrance, only to return a few seconds later with water dripping from her hair and the skins she wore.

After that each of the two-leggeds took turns running out and returning more wet than before. Pet stood up and moved the to bars of her cage to try to see what was going on outside.

Soon, the rustling sounds outside dissipated and the two-leggeds closed the barrier, making happy sounds, removing their wet skins and using other skins to wipe the water from their bodies. Eventually the two handlers left and the Regal One shed all her skins preparing for bed. She looked over at Pet, who was still standing by the bars of her kennel, curious as to what was going on. The Regal One approached and began stroking her fingers through Pet’s hair. Pet could detect a hint of the scent of urgency from the Regal One, and she pressed her face between the bars of the cage doing her best to nuzzle the Alpha.

The Alpha continued to stroke Pet’s hair for a while, then began to let her fingers trail down Pet’s face and neck - down to her shoulder. Pet liked it when the Regal One touched her. She had so little physical interaction with other creatures anymore as she was always strung between two handlers. So, when the Regal One touched her skin it was exciting and disturbing and wonderful all at the same time.

Pet turned her body so that more was accessible through the bars of her cage. The Regal One hummed a pleasant vocalization and continued to stroke the places that Pet made available. Pet was disappointed though, when the Regal One suddenly stopped and she growled her displeasure as she watched the two-legged go to the moving cave’s barrier and make some sort of metallic clicking sounds.

Happily, the Regal One returned to the cage and began caressing Pet again in earnest. Pet languished in the feel of the Regal One’s light touch skimming along the surface of her skin sending yelps of sensation through her nervous system. Slowly, Pet turned further away from the Regal One, instead presenting her flanks which she pressed against the bars of the kennel. There was something utterly delicious about the juxtaposition of the unyielding metal restaining her advance and the soft whisper of the Regal One’s dextrous, magical fingers tickling the slickening folds of Pet’s sex.

Pet groaned and arched her back, dropping to her elbows to leverage her rear against the bars. This was the thing that she needed. This was the answer to her urgencies. She pressed her back end in time with the Regal One’s ministrations until something so pure ripped through Pet’s body that she collapsed onto her side, vocalizing, panting, spasming.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the Regal One looking down on her, somewhat sad, perhaps. Still, she was the most beautiful thing that Pet had ever seen. Pet knew she would do anything to protect the Regal One - the Alpha. She would defend her to the death without a second thought.

Afterwards, Pet closed her eyes and fell into a bliss-filled sleep.

Now, the afternoon sun was out and there was a strange murmur outside. Pet had not been given the chance to explore their surroundings at all. She could smell many smells in the air though, like various types of food cooking. She also heard, loud vocalizations of some unknown collections of two-leggeds. Many animals seemed to be moving around.

The Regal One had been dressed by her handlers in the most resplendent robes and she stood for a while vocalizing in front of a mirror. She seemed a little nervous. Finally, she stepped over to Pet’s kennel and knelt. When Pet pressed her face between the bars, the Regal One kissed her forehead, then stood and headed for the barrier of the moving cave.

Shortly after she exited the cave, Pet heard a roar of a great number of two-leggeds screaming at once. It startled her. But they did not seem to be angry voices, so Pet was able to relax after a bit. When the roar silenced, Pet heard a single voice, projecting loudly. It was the Regal One’s voice. Sometimes when she said things there would be a great roar from the crowd. Roars of satisfaction.

Pet paced back and forth in her kennel. Nervous for the safety of the Regal One. She couldn’t wait for her to return. She was getting hungry.


0 - 0 - 9 - 06:11 - The Full Moon

The Hunter’s Moon arose in Cowen at 18:57, shining in through a window of the magical laboratory where Evanescent was working filling in some lines of the elaborate drawing of the slave woman now known as Pet. Soon she would need to think of the next location to focus the Crown’s Concern virus, lest it run rampant through her body. When she saw the light of the moon, she thought of Slave Karma. If she was still alive, they had not found her in time.

“They have moved your prisoner into the infirmary.” Evanescent jumped a little. She had been so deep in thought that she had not heard Paris’ approach.

“Why?” Evanescent asked, suddenly concerned. “They cannot take her there. Aife is there. He cannot be in the same room as Aife!”

“Madam Aife has left the castle,” Paris said.

“What? That is not possible. She could barely breathe just two days ago because of broken ribs. Why would she leave.”

Paris looked confused. “Everyone thought that you had cast a healing spell on her. Her bruising faded and her limbs straightened. Even her hair grew an arm’s length.”

“An arm’s length? I don’t have any healing abilities… Strange…” Evanescent said. “But why is the prisoner in the infirmary.”

“Oh! Well, apparently he was attacked.”

“Attacked? I thought he was chained arm and ankle to a wall in an isolation cell. How could he be attacked?”

“He was a bit delirious, but he supposedly said something about a demon temptress. She appeared in his cell and began to perform felatio upon him. He claims that just as he achieved full erection, the demoness dismembered him.”

“Dismembered?” Evanescent asked, shocked.

“Yes. She bit off his-”

“I know what dismembered means!”

“It was apparently very bloody. Uh… no… uh… appendage was found… So… yeah...”

Morgana must be behind all this, Evanescent thought. But it doesn’t make any sense.

    <>--+-

It was 21 minutes later that the moon rose in Joppa. The Joppan Sorceress Empipada stepped into the bedroom of Jansen, Prince of Joppa. “The Princess of Cowan gave a speech as we requested in Wheeler outside the newly installed anchorhold. Apparently, the crowd found her words to be inspiring. My messenger says that she is quite beautiful and has a great deal of charisma.”

“Well,” the Prince said. “At least I will have something to look at when she arrives.”

“We cannot allow the people of Joppa to fall in love with her. It will make it that much more difficult to destroy her,” the Sorceress said. “We need to somehow find a reason for her to hide her beauty.”

The Prince stood and kissed Empipada. “I have my faith in you, my love.”

    <>--+-

The moon was not visible from where Maisie and Piper lay together in the bed of their windowless cell, but she shone onto the desk of Dr. Norost where she sat with her legs propped up examining a video monitor of the two prisoners. She was so happy to be provided use of all this old technology and the solar charged batteries used to power it.

She watched as Maisie leaned in to kiss Piper. Just as Maisie’s lips brushed Piper’s cheek, Dr. Norost turned on the microphone that linked to Piper’s earpiece. “Piper, I want you to remind Maisie, right now, that her first operation will be in three days.” She watched as Piper touched her ear and then made the musical sounds with her voice that only Maisie could understand.

“Fuckers!” Maisie yelled into the room as was her habit when speaking with her captors.

Dr. Norost chuckled, then pressed the button for the microphone again. “Also, Piper, tell Maisie that your first operation will be in four days, and her second operation will be in five days.”

Piper climbed out of bed and stepped away from Maisie, looking despondent.

“Tell her now, Piper! My finger is already on the shock button!”

She watched Piper turn to Maisie. Her voice came over the speaker, so pure and beautiful, so filled with sadness...

    <>--+-

Meanwhile, on the outskirts of Wheeler… Skylar jogged down a dark path into a secret clearing. Three women stepped from the shadows, naked under the slowly rising moon.

“She was brilliant!” Skylar exclaimed. “I must write a review of the Princess’ visit for the paper. I cannot stay long!”

“It is the full moon,” one of the women hissed. “First, you must commune with us.”

Skylar began opening her shirt and unwinding wraps that restrained her breasts. She stepped into the arms of the other three and kissed each other as they slowly transformed - their legs merging together, their arms melding into their bodies and sank towards the ground. Each with scaled skin writhing against one another in a slithering ball of ecstacy.

    <>--+-

Not far away in the trailer that Princess Merkeza shared with Pet, the Princess sat with her head in her hands. She had pulled off all her robes and tossed them on the floor in disgust and was clad in nothing but a camisole and her locked belt.

She looked over at Pet’s kennel and saw the poor girl who had been stripped of her humanity standing at the bars watching every move the Princess made. When their eyes met, a brief smile flashed across Pet’s face. The Princess stood and walked to the door of the trailer. She opened the door briefly looking to see what collection of guards had been stationed around. The light of the full moon briefly illuminated her white camisole making it seem to glow in the dim light of the trailer. She closed the door and turned the lock with a heavy click. Then she crossed the room to where Pet watched with interest, slowly turning her body as the Princess approached until her flanks were pressed to the bars.

As the Princess reached out her hand to touch Pet she whispered to herself, “I’m such a slut!”

    <>--+-

Over three hours later on the outskirts of Cowen, the moon had suitably risen into the sky and shone down on a nondescript rise in the sea of sand. A double arm-span below the ground, Ileana moved through the portal into the human woman’s sarcophagus.

Nothing was deep asleep, so Ileana moved slowly until she lay gently along the woman’s body watching the patterns of heat stream through the woman’s body, her chest slowly rising and falling with each breath. Ileana leaned over and let her lips press the soft skin of her ward’s cheek.

“Down on your knees, I said, you worthless slut!” the woman screamed suddenly startling Ileana.

It was a second before Ileana realized that the human was only dreaming - talking in her sleep. After another moment curiosity got the best of her. She whispered a quick encanto and then struck the woman’s face with the palm of her hand. The impact however was mainly focused on the ethereal rather than the physical world and a cloud of gold flakes erupted from Nothing’s head. Ileana breathed deeply pulling the flakes into her. The intimacy of the act - the absorption of the memory of Nothing’s dream - rippled through Ileana’s core, ignited her loins and forcing a pleasurable sigh to hum from her throat.

Ileana closed her eyes and concentrated on the memory of Nothing’s dream. In it, she was looking down at the back of her right hand. A thick golden ring pierced the soft flesh of the webbing between each finger of her hand - four in all. A fifth larger diameter ring threaded through the four in such a way that it lay against the back of her hand. From the base of this ring, near her wrist a series of delicate, yet sturdy chains wended back towards attachment points on an array of steel bangles - some anchored into the flesh of her forearm, others free to slide, all seamless.

Ileana watched as her human ward closed her hand around the wooden handle of some sort of leather flogger. Her focus changed to a point beyond her hand where a beautiful woman knelt on the ground - her arms raised by chains attached above, her hair pushed over her shoulder exposing a lithe, muscled, feminine back - narrowing to her waist where a decorative steel belt emphasized her figure.

“It’s time for your punishment, Princess, you slut!” Nothing was saying in the dream as she raised the flogger.

“Yes, Mistress Karma! I deserve a punishment!” the kneeling woman responded. “I am such a slut!”