Legends of Belariath

Bianca

Bianca's Capture

The diminutive feline female didn’t know it at the time, but her nude and nubile body was a wonderful target for the needle about to impale her supple tender flesh. Had she known, she may have worn something, anything, more then the nothing that covered her now and made her vulnerable. Then again, to wear clothes with out His permission was strictly forbidden to her, so perhaps this situation was inevitable in the end.

As the black clad man laid in wait for that perfect shot to present itself to him, he watched patiently knowing that soon he would take down his unsuspecting prey and be able to fulfill his contractual obligation to bring the striking woman to his contractor. The fact that she was gardening in the nude made this assignment a particularly enjoyable one, so he had no complaint that it took some time to find that shot. Eventually though, the inevitable happened, and she raised her pert bottom into the air while her torso lowered towards the ground, her nimble fingers reaching out to plant a bulb of tulips. The man inhaled deeply through his nose then exhaled sharply through his mouth into the tube that contained a poisoned needle, thereby sending the needle flying through the air and into the supple round flesh of her left buttock right near the junction of where the white fur of her body, and the black fur of her tail joined.

With a yelp of surprise she reached her clawed hand around to scratch at what ever had just stung her, thinking it had been a bumblebee or perhaps a yellow jacket wasp. When she plucked the small wooden, poisoned covered dart from her bottom all she had time to do was blink in wonder of what it was before her face met the dirt just next to the tulip bulb she’d just planted.

The mercenary quietly stalked across the distance to close in on his victim. He knelt by her side and roughly lifted her head by her onyx hair looking down at the gold collar around her neck, “Bianca - Property of Arcarius” he read aloud and snorted mockingly, “Yeah… right,” he added as he ripped the collar from her neck after having used his lock picks to unlatch it from its place. His cruel hand tossed her prized collar to the ground as the poison took its full effect and she passed out cold.

When next her obsidian eyes opened, she let out a soft helpless whimper as she felt an all too familiar gag in her mouth. Each type of gag felt differently when worn, and most felt extremely uncomfortable for one with fangs as the felines have… this one she wore now, however, fit her mouth perfectly, as if it was made specifically for her mouth. In fact, it was made for her; she knew it instantly because it was molded to her mouth. The molding process accounted for every rise and fall of her teeth and gums. The ring that kept her jaws open even had indentations for her fangs, insuring that no harm would come from those sharp and potentially deadly fangs. She didn’t have to open her eyes to know where she was, only one man she’d ever known bothered do make mouth molds for gags… her ex-Master Dysmal Lotharen. Clever and sadistic man that he was, Dysmal made the gags especially for those slaves he intended to keep or use for some time to insure his precious equipment wouldn’t be intentionally or accidentally injured. The molding process wasn’t the only thing that made this gag special, oh no, he also made the gags with a removable center so he could insert things through the core of the gag and into the mouth of the slave wearing it; more often then not it was his own erection he slid through the hole forcing the slave to give him oral sex.

“Wake up Bianca! You fucking whore!” A deep gravely, malicious and well-known voice snapped at her. As she received a harsh kick to her ribs and felt one rib snap like a twig, her eyes bulged out in pain. She looked up at the irate yet exotically alluring face of her High Elf / Feline mix ex-Master Dysmal. His silver hair wildly framed his face, his golden feline eyes glared back at her as she looked up helplessly at him. She tried to back away but that’s when she felt the bindings on her arms and wrists keeping her firmly in place on the flat surface she was on, a table, she assumed from the hardness.

“Sleep time is over slut… Did you think you could escape me? Did you? You stupid worthless piece of meat… just because I was banished from that town and you were left there by those idiot guards does not mean you were freed! How dare you think such a foolish thing? You have no brain cells in that thick head of yours.” As Dysmal went off on his tirade tears came to Bianca’s eyes. She was told by the guards that she was a free woman, that Dysmal would no longer be around to harm her, that he was not fit to be a Master as he beat her for violence’s sake not for her punishment or pleasure. Her thoughts then immediately went to Arcarius, her new Master and the man she loved with all her heart. Was He safe? Did the mercenary who captured her hurt Arcarius or just sneak away with her? Would He notice she was gone? Would He be angry with her for being captured? Her mind was flooded with terrible fears and she trembled visibly. Egotist that Dysmal was, he thought she shook in fear of him alone, and had he known her quivering was in worry for Arcarius he would have beaten her till she couldn’t remember her own name much less her new owner’s.

“That’s right bitch… you’re back home now… and its time to show me how much you’ve missed me,” he sneered and pulled the plug section from the gag’s center. Already she could smell the putrid scent of his dirty shaft and she barely repressed the urge to vomit as she watched it grow larger when he brought it nearer.

MASTER!! She screamed in her mind as if there was some possible way he could hear her and come rescue her, but with her mouth pried open the way it was there was no way she could do more then grunt, making it impossible to cast the message spell, even if she knew it.

***

As the Sylvan Elf strode confidently through the forest towards the land he had bought, land he had been squatting on for months before earning enough money to buy it, he kept a sharp eye out for his precious pet. Bianca had a wonderful habit of pouncing on him when he least expected it. He knew she would be gardening today so wasn’t sure if she would be too busy too ambush him but he kept a wary eye out just incase. As he drew closer to his home he stopped and listened to the sounds of the land to see if he could hear her at work or at play. He heard neither. In fact, the area was far quieter then it should have been. That could mean only one thing; somewhere in the trees and bushes she lay in wait for him, likely holding her breath so as not to give herself away, as she kept watch for him so she could jump out when he least suspected it. So that’s how it’s going to be, he thought. He nodded to himself, brushed the white lock of hair into the rest of his blond tresses as he walked on, unable to suppress the broad smile on his face, and proceeded in towards his home to let himself be caught by her. He knew she’d snap a twig or rustle some leaves just before she sprung out on him and he would whirl around to the noise and catch her in his waiting arms as he always did.

With his plan in mind and his senses sharp he kept an eye and ear out for any tell tale signals of her approach, that’s when he saw the glint of her gold collar. He smirked and walked on, ignoring her trap for now so he could catch her mid air. He moved into his camp and waited… and waited… “I wonder where my kitten is,” he said aloud hoping she would hear and leap out, but she didn’t. With a frown on his face, he let out a sigh “Kitten! Come here right now!” He was willing to be pounced on, but she was taking far too long and it was ceasing to be amusing. He turned quickly on his heel looking towards where he had seen the glimmer of her collar and began to head in that direction. “Kitten! Present yourself now!” He commanded knowing she would not disobey his order. When she didn’t present herself he went into the area she was gardening and his eyes went wide as he saw the scene before him.

Immediately the skilled ranger in him saw her delicate footprints in the dirt, half a dozen unplanted tulip bulbs and one that was squished down after planting. Right next to the crushed plant, he saw an impact mark on the ground. Studying the mark, he saw it to be the form of a nude female. There was no doubt in his mind that it was his kitten that fell to the ground there. The collar he had placed on her lay open and carelessly tossed to one side. He had locked it on her and she would never take it off on her own, he knew she was in love with him so trusted that he was right in this assumption. Who would take it off her then? Instantly his mind raced through all the Dominants in town that he knew of or heard reputation of. She knew enough to fight back if she was being unwillingly molested by someone she didn’t care to be with, other then one he commanded her to service, yet there were no real signs of a struggle; just the body mark and the flattened plant. That’s when his keen eye spotted the tiny sliver of wood near the leg impression she left. He knelt down to retrieve it and inspected its point, “Poison… Oh Bianca where are you?” He searched around the area more intently now, trying to find the tracks leading away from this place. Surely, with the weight of his kitten on the attacker’s shoulders or in his arms the person’s footprints would have been deeper in the ground then those approaching.

As he suspected there were tracks leading away from his camp that were of a booted person with rather large feet. He assumed the person was a male human or a female barbarian from the size of the print. On he went, tracking the boot impressions to where a horse had stood. The horse had apparently grazed while it waited for its owner. And by the amount of hoof prints it left, the horse had waited a long while, several hours perhaps. With its having paced all over the area it was difficult for him to find the set leading away, though in time he did find and move to follow the trail it left behind.

He was on foot so it was slow going and he knew he would never catch the kidnapper if he kept walking so he raced back to the Inn and bought a horse. After finding his place on the trail again, he followed at a faster clip, but still slow enough to make sure he did not lose the prints of creature that carried away his property.

He frowned and he felt a sharp pain in his heart when he noticed that not only did this hunt take him away from town, but also it went away from any of the living areas of the local Dominants who he thought might have done this. Now he had even less chance of finding her. If it had been a town’s person, he could and would find her even if it were by word of mouth from the gossipmongers that were always ready to spread some tidbit of news around like a plague. Fury festered within him as he realized that not only was it not a local and so he would be hard pressed to find her, but that this outsider apparently knew what he wanted and came specifically for His property, His Bianca.

He cursed under his breath when darkness came and he had to camp for the night, unable to follow any further due to his inability to see the trail any longer. As his precious possession was taken farther away from him, Arcarius found he got no sleep at all that night and he headed out once again at first light.

***

Bianca tried as best as she could to fight off Dysmal, struggling in her bonds, turning her face away from him whenever he tried to rape her mouth, but in the end she found it was a useless exercise and only served to make him angrier with her. She was Arcarius’ property now and she loved Him deeply, she wanted no one more then she wanted Him, but that fact just made Dysmal increasingly irate. She well knew the more upset he was the more he would beat her.

After he used her body all night long and well into the next day, in both old and painfully new ways, Dysmal threw her carelessly at a henchman to be washed and readied for him after he himself got some rest and food. She was allowed neither rest nor food and as the minion washed her, he abused her body, twisting her nipples, slapping her face and buttocks and then eventually, much to her utter dismay, taking the plug from her gag and cramming it into her bottom as he had his way with her mouth. He knew better then to put his shaft in her sex, no that area was saved for Dysmal alone, but he would make sure he used her ass after he shot his load into her gagging mouth.

Even though this was all against her will, still nothing had happened to Bianca that was too terrible. Sex was sex after all and sex she could deal with. She thought perhaps Dysmal had changed, and learned that property must be taken care of; because once it’s broken, it’s of no use and must be mended or discarded. She knew she was a sex toy, a piece of meat to be used as the Master wished, and she loved to be that, for Arcarius anyway. She still hoped and prayed for her true Master to come rescue her, but she also hoped that at least while she was stuck here, Dysmal would not beat her for beatings sake.

She couldn’t have been more wrong.

The moment she was returned to Dysmal she knew she was wrong, and wondered if she would live through his plans to regret how wrong her thoughts about him changing were.

Standing in what amounted to a dungeon, dark and well… dismal, Dysmal himself was wearing an evil smirk on his face, and she knew that sneer well. When she saw that look, she knew it was the last thing she would see for days. True to form when the henchman threw her at Dysmal’s feet, her ex-Master put the blindfold on her then lifted her up to the rack. He placed her slender wrists and delicate ankles into cuffs that were so tight they nearly cut off her circulation. As he turned the handle to stretch her out on the rack Bianca felt her body at first straighten out to her normal full height, then go farther, and start pulling on all her joints. She whimpered and shivered as a flood of memories came rushing back to her, triggered by the feeling of being pulled apart by this very same rack she had been pulled out on countless times before.

She had blissfully repressed most of the horrific memories of her time with Dysmal when Arcarius found her and started treating her as prized property, not a punching bag. But now those memories of the nights and days, even weeks of torture all flooded back into her mind, and as she felt the red hot poker press into her naked thigh, she gave a scream with not only her voice but also her soul.

This was only stage one and she knew it. He wouldn’t stop till he had broken her bones over and over. He had a Cleric on staff to heal her up, just so that he could break her again. But no matter how many times the Cleric healed her nothing would heal the damage to her mind. This time, Bianca found, was far worse then last. His curses at her were much more caustic, more personal, more painful. Before, perhaps because she had never known the joys of being with a real Master, one who cared for her, she didn’t know any better and the verbal abuse had hurt her less. But now, each of his poisonous words darted straight into her heart and scorched a black mark there deadening her emotions slowly.

Soon the torture had grown so terribly excruciating she could no longer sense the passage of time, it all seemed like one big sharp unbearably awful pain. She had no idea he would continue to torment her till she fell unconscious and could no longer provide Dysmal the sweet seductive song of her screams that delighted his sick demented mind. Had she known it was her screams driving him on perhaps she would have bitten her own tongue off so that she could only gurgle in pain, dampening his pleasure of the experience.

Even through her agony he continued to use all Bianca’s orifices for his perverse delight, her cries and screams just got him harder and more needy for sexual release. He raped her broken body in any way and every way he could think of all the while giving her such mind numbing pain that soon she no longer was aware of him rutting into her. She felt her mind subtly slipping away from her, becoming oblivious of one thing after another. She lost time first, and then lost her hunger, followed by losing the sensation of him taking her, and eventually she lost her own name.

All the while, however, Bianca still had the knowledge deep in her heart that Arcarius was coming to save her. Even though she lost His name, she still had the image of Him in her mind and she clung tight to that image as her last bastion of sanity.

***

Arcarius’ hunt was only paused by a deficiency of light to continue the trek, but his lack of sleep was starting to wear on him. It had been several days now and sleep only came in short increments, and then always haunted by what ifs. What if the trail suddenly stopped? What if he dropped into sleep while riding the horse and the horse wandered away from the trail? What if the trail continued and he stayed awake to follow it just to find out that in the end he was too late to save Bianca? He didn’t even know what it was he had to save her from, but something in his very soul told him she was in terrible danger and that he had to find her before what ever it was that was going to happen, happened.

After six days of travel, the path led to a town. Arcarius hoped that the rider had not merely stopped here for the night and moved on, for if he had there would be no way to track the horse since many people came into and left towns every day. With a sharp eye on the track he followed it right to the main gates where he finally lost it as it mingled with so many other hoof prints and wagon wheel grooves. “Be here,” he whispered quietly to himself. While it was a wish that she was here and his words sounded like a command to Bianca, he had little reason to believe she would be here and be able to be found. He had no idea who might have taken her, could have been anyone at all, and it was nearly impossible to find someone you had no idea what he or she looked like or what his or her name was.

If you wanted to know something in Nanthalion, you went to the Inn and listened for it, or asked around there. People were by nature nosey and if something was going on, they were likely talking about it at the local Inn. His horse needed water, food and grooming so he headed for the Inn and intended to take a room there for at least the night while he tried to gather information.

“C’n I help yous Sir?” A young stable hand asked. Arcarius lofted a blond eyebrow in surprise to see a wolven girl as the stable hand. Normally horses seemed not too keen on the wolven race, but this girl right away took the horses reigns and patted its nose, seeming to communicate with it as she did so. With a shrug after seeing his horse accept the girl without dismay he nodded and dismounted then looked to grab his pack, that’s when he noticed he left in such a rush he didn’t have a pack. “I’ve traveled a ways and my horse needs tending to. Give her the finest oats you have available as she’s had nothing to eat but grass for too long,” and then he turned away, but stopped in his place and looked over his shoulder. “Give her a thorough cleaning and brushing, massage her well… she deserves it,” he said almost as an after thought. The horse was now His property and all of His property would be well taken care of no matter what it was: horse, home or slave.

The Inn itself, named Holly Day’s Inn, was nothing like the one he’s become used to, and he wondered why. There was no reason for this town to be any more moral then Nanthalion, none that he could see that is. Yet everywhere ye looked there were uptight people with the natural needs and urges he has seen easily fulfilled in the very middle of the Inn at home. Shaking his head to dismiss his curiosity, he moved into the Inn and went to the bar. Tenders and wenches seemed to have the most information and so he sought the tender’s attention.

“Allo Sir, ‘ow can I ‘elp you this day?” The bright eyed girl asked as she reached for a mug and filled it with rich amber ale then passed it to another patron at the bar, removing his old mug in the same gesture.

“Good afternoon. I am looking for some information, perhaps you might be able to assist me?” Arcarius pulled out a few coins from his coin purse.

Her blue eyes sparkled as she saw the gold twinkle in his palm, “Well wot infa’mation are you lookin’ for?” She asked kindly, her eyes still wandering over the coinage.

“I am looking for a feline female…”

“We ‘ave plenty o’ those Sir,” she announced and waved over a fully dressed sexy prostitute feline girl. Apparently they had working girls here, just did not use them in public as he’d become accustomed to.

Arcarius smiled enigmatically and shook his head, “No, no, not any feline female. I look specifically for a black and white one named Bianca, stands five foot even, long obsidian hair reaching down nearly to the bottom of her bottom. I owe her money and wish to repay my debt to her, but I lost track of her a week ago. Would you know where she might be?” He lied thinking he was more likely to get the information he seeks this way then to tell the truth that she was his property and was stolen from him.

The lovely human woman tender thought for a moment as she served a few more ales and then looked back to Arcarius, “I fink I saw a black n’ white feline wif one o’ th’ regulars. But she ain’t th’ sort that lends money; she’s th’ sort that is lended for money.”

His eyebrows knit together as he tried to keep his voice calm. “Oh? What’s this regular’s name? I didn’t know much about Bianca’s other life style. I just know I bought her decorating services once and I wish to pay her for them.”

“Dysmal Lotharen is ‘is name. ‘E ain’t come ‘ere more then once since ‘e brought th’ girl back. They used t’ come ‘ere all th’ time for years, but ‘e ain’t brought ‘er ‘round for a few months. I was glad t’ see she was still alive when ‘e brought ‘er in.”

“How long ago did he bring her in?” He asked as calmly as his barely concealed rage would allow him to.

“Five days ago.”

“Where does he live?” He asked specifically pulling out another gold coin, knowing that she was less likely to give a private address then general information about a person.

Sure enough upon seeing the third gold added to his palm she gave him not only the address, but explicit details on how to get to the place. He nodded his head to her and passed her the coins, “You’ve been most helpful Miss…?”

“Day, I’m ‘Olly Day,” she said softly as she accepted the money with a gentle but possessive gesture. “Are you goin’ t’ kill ‘im?” She asked as an after thought.

Arcarius just looked at her and gave a smile, not answering her question, as he wasn’t sure himself if he would kill Dysmal or not, though right now every single fiber in his being screamed out for that man’s blood.

***

Bianca had long ago stopped screaming as her voice went hoarse from the agony she’d already been through for the past week. However, as long as she stayed conscious, Dysmal would torture her. While the Cleric healed the broken bones, Dysmal continued to berate her using his acid tongue to call her scathing names. After a week of no food, no water, and in fact no rest, Bianca was well on the way to losing her mind, often babbling the evil words Dysmal had forced her to hear over and over. She was always kept with her hands tied behind her back when she wasn’t tied to the rack because for some odd reason she had taken to scratching her wrists or neck with her claws until they bled profusely. Perhaps it was some instinctual attempt at suicide, something inside her telling her if she was dead she would finally be at peace. She was also kept on collar and leash the entire time, being treated as a common canine pet, but much more harshly, for Dysmal never kicked his mastiff’s ribs till they broke, no, that he saved for Bianca.

Today he would bathe her himself, but it would be no ordinary washing. No, today he would scrub her with a special wire brush designed by him to cause immense pain.

He threw her in the tub and she hit her chin on the porcelain basin, which caused her head to jolt. The only thing keeping her from accidentally biting off her tongue was that evil gag, and she was so brainwashed by now that mentally she thanked Dysmal for the gag that saved her from severing the powerful muscle in her mouth. As he prepared his tools of torment, the cut on her chin from the tub’s edge started to bleed and eventually Bianca watched in foggy amusement as a drop of blood sploinked into the water and dissipated, just to be replaced by another red spot of her precious blood. She dissociated herself from the situation so did not realize it was her blood she watched.

Dysmal saw her smiling as she watched her blood drip into the water and smirked maliciously, “Like that do you slut? Well, then you will love the rest of this bath immensely.” His words were sarcastic and smug as he moved to unlock her wrists from each other and then to relock them to metal rings riveted to the bath tub to keep her in place and yet still give enough play in her placement that he could scrub every where on her body with a bit of effort. He was well willing to put forth the effort because nothing would keep him from hearing her screams that he knew this bath would invoke from her despite her lost voice.

He was right in his prediction, it wasn’t the first brush with the wire bristles that evoked his lovely music from her, it wasn’t even the third, it was the sixth… the one that started to remove her fur and break her skin causing her to bleed that made her shriek. “Ahh yes, sing that lovely song to me Bianca… scream for me,” he commanded needlessly because she couldn’t have held back from screaming if she wanted to. She couldn’t even have imagined a pain worse then what he had already put her through; nothing in the world could have prepared her for this. He scrubbed and scrubbed her until the bath water turned red, now so saturated with her life’s essence that the blood could no longer dissipate in the water. Also, the water was clotted thickly with the fur that he removed from her, inch by inch along with several layers of her skin. It was this bathing that made Bianca lose the last thread of her sanity entirely. She never saw the henchman bailing out the buckets of blood and fur and pouring back in new scalding hot water to assist Dysmal in removing all of her fur entirely, from the top of her feline ears to the tip of her long black tail and every where in between. She passed out long before he finished as her brain was on overload from the unbearable misery he was putting her through.

Once the fur was all gone, leaving her nothing but her hair on her head that he could use to grab her with, Dysmal unlatched the cuffs from the tub hooks and pulled her out of the tub by her hair alone. Callously dropping her onto the ground, he grunted; she was still pooling blood onto his formerly clean floor and that was angering him. He had removed too many layers of skin and she would not stop bleeding on her own. He had to call in the Cleric.

He was explicit in his instructions to the Healer; she was to stop bleeding, but not to be entirely healed, he wanted her in pain. The Cleric worked his magic and soon the blood ceased and scabs started to form until she was not the black and white feline she used to be, but rather a dark red brown color of the dried blood scab. “You should not move her, else the scabs will crack open like the packed sand of a dry water bed in the dessert and begin to weep again, though not nearly as much as she just was,” the Healer informed the sadistic man who stood there with a malignant glimmer in his eye and a smile on his face that would make the Devil shiver.

“I know,” he replied and promptly pulled her by her hair, dragging her across the floor and back to the dungeon, leaving a blood trail behind them from the scabs that opened just as he was warned they would.

All the while, Bianca didn’t have any comprehension of what was going on as her mind had shut down and while she woke briefly as they spoke she could not understand the words that they said and let the darkness claim her once more.

***

Arcarius reconnoitered the address he had been given while there was still light enough to see. He took note that there were actually guards or minions there around Dysmal’s rather large home for protection. Briefly, as he looked at the grand scale of the manor, he wondered why Dysmal had brought Bianca to Nanthalion at all; had it been a permanent move he intended to make or just a brief trip? Pushing that stray thought aside, Arcarius took note of all the strengths and weaknesses he could see, all the while keeping himself well out of sight. It just wouldn’t do to get himself spotted and thus warn Dysmal of his imminent arrival.

Staying quietly squirreled away in the trees on his enemy’s land, he waited till well past nightfall before hugging the ground as he made his way to the imposing manor, all the while hoping he wasn’t too late. He readied his sword and the few combat spells he knew and started to slip in through a back door one of the minions thoughtlessly, and luckily, left unlocked.

Bianca, he whispered in his mind as if to think her name he would be given the directions to her location within the place. While no arrow came to point her way to him, something in his soul told him to go right at the crossing of one hall to another. One hallway seemed like it had just been washed, little spots of water were still drying on the marble floor and it gave him a pang in the core of his being and so he followed that path.

Yard by yard Arcarius followed the drying floor to a door. Listening carefully at it he could hear no movement inside. Bending to look through the keyhole revealed only darkness so with a cautious hand he turned the knob without making a sound. Pushing the door open only enough to look into it revealed the thick smell of cleaner and under it all, the slightly metallic scent of blood. When his eyes focused to the dim light that poured in through a large window at the left of the room he saw that this was an empty bathing room with no other entrances or exits.

With a frown, he closed the door and backtracked. Apparently the twinge in his heart that had lead him here was telling him something awful happened to his pet in this room, but gave no clue to her current whereabouts. Pet where are you? He thought once more and that’s when it struck him to retrace the wet path in reverse as he had likely come in at the middle of the path and since it was still drying chances are he would find her at the other side.

With a hope that he was on the right course, he slinked through the building, surprised that he had thus far avoided all the staff and cronies he had seen earlier. It was with that poorly timed thought that what looked to be a maid slave came around the corner bumping into him.

Her pail sloshed some of the crimson liquid out of it and she gasped and backed away from Arcarius about to apologize for walking into him until she saw his sword and realizing he was an intruder. He put his hand over her mouth and whispered in hushed tones, “if you scream I will kill you, if you remain silent you will live to see the morrow, do you understand?” She nodded her head eagerly as tears welled in her green eyes. With the nod, Arcarius carefully and slowly removed his hand from her mouth, ready to pounce on her and silence her once more should she scream. “I am looking for my slave… she means very much to me. By that pail you carry I believe you know where she is. If you help me find her, I will owe you a boon.”

Her eyes widened at his words, “Free me!” she replied in a quick whisper of excitement. “His tortures are more then I can bare, please free me.” As she begged for him to be her savoir she shifts the way she stands, coming more into the light. It was then that he noticed the bruises and welts and cuts all over her that the dim lights had hidden. Remembering Bianca’s horror stories about Dysmal, he nodded his head in agreement. Normally Arcarius wasn’t one to interfere in a Master / slave relationship, but right now Dysmal had His slave and that didn’t sit well with him.

“Is your pail of water red with blood from my feline slave? Can you take me to her?” He asked as he helped her set aside her bucket and mop soundlessly. The slave girl, a delicate looking vulpine girl, nodded her head and took him by the hand, turning them both towards the hall he had intended to head down next.

“She is this way… the Master was awful to her,” she whimpered apologetically. She turned three more corners before stopping and pointing to a set of stairs that lead downward. “She’s in the dungeon down there. It is all one room with no side rooms. He is down there with her now. He will not give her up without a fight,” she informed him nervously wringing her hands together.

“Good, because I have no intention of leaving without making him serve penance for stealing what is rightfully mine. She is mine; mind, body and soul,” Arcarius declared and at that the vixen looked down and away, biting her lip softly. “What is it? What do you hide from me?” He demanded answers from the now shaking girl.

“You may retrieve her back, but he has broken her Sir, in every way possible. She may not even recognize you. She’s gone mad. He made sure of it.” She whimpered worried that he would be so angry at the news that he would go back on his vow to free her from this hellish place.

“He may have broken her, but I can put her back together. It may take time and great effort, but she is worth it to me. No matter what he has done to her, in her soul, even if its buried deeply within her, she knows she loves me and that love will help heal her fractured mind.” But even as he said those words, dread filled his stomach. He couldn’t imagine Bianca insane, he didn’t want to. She was His kitten and she would be well for Him. Wouldn’t she? With a shake of his head to clear his busily working mind, he looked down at the dank staircase. He turned to look one last time at the vulpine, “If I do not come out of there, I have failed my task and I apologize for not being able to set you free. If I come out of there without Bianca, I have failed my task and you must be ready to run for freedom. If I come out of there with Bianca be ready to lead me out of this place the fastest and safest route possible. For now, stand guard and try to keep any others from coming down upon us.” She nodded her understanding to him once more and stood by the descending staircase, watching him move down them at a deliberately slow and careful pace.

***

She’d passed out again and that just made Dysmal even more livid. How dare she waste his precious time by being out cold when he wanted to amuse himself? With hard exhalation of air, he locked the last clasp of her bindings to the rack then he put his hands on his hips and stared at her seemingly lifeless form. The red brown scabs that covered every inch of her body except her scalp, wept new blood, but as the healer had said, it wasn’t anything life threatening and would stop in due time. Her formerly raven black hair was limp and had lost all the healthy shine it once had and now was a dull dirty black, more like soot then onyx. She was no longer beautiful and while normally that would anger Dysmal, he felt it was a fitting punishment for her betrayal of him. Now no Master would want her and he would prove to her that he was her true Master, because only he would be able to stomach the sight of her filthy and ruined body.

His plan was going well, except for her increasing tendency to fall into unconsciousness far faster then she had when she lived with him before their ill-fated trek to Nanthalion. All his preparations for her return made it that much easier to bring her back into her old position in his life, but now the question was: what could he do with her when she was like this? A million things came to mind in a blurry rush of images that made him smirk and actually moan softly, though they would all be far more exciting if she were awake to experience them. He screamed her name to try to wake her, but to no avail as her mind had forgotten who she was. He slapped her face to try again, and again failure came because her body was already in more pain then the mere slap of hand on cheek could provide. With an oath muttered under his breath at his lack of success he grasped her shoulders and shook her violently, “Wake up you worthless beast!” His scream was loud enough that anyone in nearby rooms could have heard it, but she did not and remained motionless.

“You damnable whore, Bianca, how dare you pass out again! You will not ruin my intentions to use your body how I wish!” Dysmal screamed once more and punched her in the ribs, to which her body merely rocked with the blow and stayed limply pushed to the side of the rack away from him where the hit had moved her body. He had struck a rib he’d already broken, and so the loose piece of bone went deeper in and punctured into her left lung causing more blood to begin seeping from her mouth, but she was already stained with so much blood he didn’t notice the new stream of it at all.

He turned his back on her to get a red hot iron poker out of the ever burning fire in his dungeon and was shocked to see a man standing there holding that iron poker in his gloved left hand, and a drawn sword in his right. “Who the hell are you and how did you get in here?” He snapped at the intruder who took a jab at him with the sword. When Dysmal moved right to avoid the hit, the poker was already there scalding his arm as it speared into him, causing him to yelp out a wail of pain that would have given him an erection had he not been the one creating it. “You fool! You’ve just earned your death!” Dysmal snarled at his intruder who looked past him to the pitiful sight of the cat girl.

“What have you done to her!?” The intruder demanded to know as he started edging his way to the right, attempting to slowly draw closer to Bianca.

“None of your damned business! She’s my property!”

Shaking his head Arcarius laughed as he deftly moved closer still to his comatose pet, “Your property no longer. She belongs to me now. If you allow me to take back what is mine, I may not kill you.”

“She belongs to me, she will not even know you, fool… and now you’ve outstayed your welcome… say goodbye to your maker.” Dysmal’s movement was fast as lightning as he tossed a bottle of something at Arcarius from a nearby table.

Arcarius jumped to avoid the projectile, however, the table behind him had no such ability to dodge and was struck, causing the glass of the bottle to break and a small explosion of glass and acid rained onto Arcarius, scalding his hand and burning into his armor after eating small holes through the fabric of his hooded cloak. Enraged more by Dysmal’s arrogance then by the wound Arcarius growled out the words to a spell and in an instant energy crackled in the air and came down in a bolt on his pet’s former Master.

As the energy bolt crashed down on him and briefly shorted out Dysmal’s own body from the shock of the energy influx to his system, Arcarius took the free second to get nearer still to his slave’s unconscious form. Immediately upon recovery of movement, Dysmal snatched his own sword out of its scabbard that leaned up against one of his trunks that held his implements of destruction. With the whirr of metal being spun in the air, Dysmal put on an impressive looking display of sword flourishing that would have shaken most opponents to their core at having come up against one with Dysmal’s incredible skills.

Arcarius was neither impressed nor shaken however, and just shook his head with a smirk of his own. He knew that, more often then not, those who brandished their swords in such a manner had very little actual skill and were counting on the intimidation factor of such a move to win the battle without having to touch steel to steel. He also knew that many would easily be swayed by the display and back down. Arcarius saw right through Dysmal as if the other man were made of glass and rolled his eyes, “When you are done trying to swat that fly perhaps we could get on with this?” He asked. He had been far from idle while Dysmal was showing off. Arcarius had been studying his opponent to learn to anticipate he man’s moves, as well as finally reaching Bianca’s side and subtly unlatching her closest wrist cuff.

Rumbling in annoyance, a deep-throated roar erupted from Dysmal and he charged Arcarius, who danced to the left, unlocking Bianca’s ankle cuff as he moved and wildly thrust the cooling, but still hot, poker at his adversary. Dysmal easily evaded the sloppy move, totally missing the fact that the swipe with the poker was simply a diversionary tactic to keep his attention away from Arcarius’ real actions of freeing his pet. Dancing around the table, around the unconscious form of Bianca who would once have been alternately afraid and proud of this display by her Master-Love Arcarius, the two men traded thrusts and parries. Arcarius’ full hands still worked double duty as they wielded weapons and unlatched her bindings till soon Bianca was entirely freed.

Now with his pet liberated, Arcarius can concentrate on besting Dysmal in battle. With skill much greater then Dysmal’s, Arcarius’ own sword whirrs and flashes in the firelight, each twirl creating a wound in his opponent. Not a single one of his movements was a waste of energy as so many of Dysmal’s were. With a lucky strike, however, Dysmal struck Arcarius in the arm causing him to drop not only the iron poker, but lose the feeling in the arm as the tendons were cut deeply.

The sound of steel ringing loudly increased its tempo until it became a thunderous crescendo that was ended by a sudden deafening silence that came when Arcarius’ sword with a well placed thrust impaled Dysmal’s chest, first piercing his lung, then the heart. Turning the sword to make sure maximum damage is done, Arcarius looks into Dysmal’s dying eyes. “This is for what you’ve done to my Bianca.” Dysmal gurgled as he drowned on his own blood and dropped to his knees as he slid off the sword’s meter of steel. The last sight Dysmal saw is a side ways view of Arcarius pulling Bianca’s limp broken body off the rack and heading for the stairs.

True to his word, Arcarius freed the vixen after she led them through the maze of halls of the Lotharen manor. He didn’t know just yet the extent of Bianca’s wounds, nor did he know she was completely and utterly mad, but he would soon find out and together they would start on the long road of her recovery.

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