Chapter Twenty-One: I’m already sad just knowing you.

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This is definitely a world of hard surfaces. For what I can only imagine is the third or fourth time today, I found myself lying on stone. This time, I was in a cool, damp place. Oh yeah, totally naked. I allowed my body to endure the agony of a hard reboot.

My hands were shackled in front by the same kind of magical suppression cuffs that I had in the slave camp. They were connected to a heavy metal collar around my neck by chains. I rattled as I sat up.

It was an old-school dungeon-style cell, but there was a small window with light coming in, so I wasn’t underground. The space was about six by four feet, not too bad for a little elf girl like me, but the old me would have been way more claustrophobic. The outside wall and cell door took up the narrow sides. It was a full-on bar door like you see in a prison, not a metal door with a slot. I don’t know much about prison doors.

There was absolutely nothing in the cell except naked me and a small puddle of drool I left behind when I woke up.

“Heh,” a gruff voice said, walking up. The guard was obviously waiting for me to come to. He rattled a little, keys, chains, and whatnot.

“Awake?” He was burly. I mean, just imagine the word burly and project it onto a middle age medieval human in rusty armor and a crappy chin beard. He must have been something in the day, but a lifetime of mutton burgers and cheap booze definitely took its toll. Thank the gods for a cushy civil service job.

“Unless I’m dreaming of you,” I said, gritting my teeth through the throbbing of my head. “Man of my dreams in the flesh just seems too good.”

“Be a good elf,” he said. “And I’ll visit you after my shift ends.”

“The rapey guard thing is a bit played out,” I said. “I’m guessing there’s somewhere you’re supposed to take me?”

“It just so happens I do.” He said. He had a yellow rag-like thing in his hand that I hadn’t noticed until he tossed it between the bars. “Get dressed.”

The rag-like thing turned out to be the Nya version of prison wear. It seems they were happy to strip me naked while I was unconscious, but for some reason, slipping a smelly rag poncho over my head was taking things too far.

I wrestled the thing over my head (no small feat considering the shackles) and poked my face through the slit at the top. It hung down around my knees; I was thankful for my short stature, as I’m sure it would have left Leoleth’s ass hanging out for all to see.

“Maybe a healing potion?” I asked as he pulled the door open.

“Maybe I smack you in the head.”

“I think we’re gonna be best friends before this is over, and you will be so sad about all the mean things you said to me.” I winked and smiled at him, looking as cute as my blood and mud-smeared face could be.

“I’m already sad just knowing you.” He grumbled, yanking me by the arm and shoving me ahead of him.

I looked at the other cells as we moved down the block. They were filled with blank-faced prisoners, either naked or wearing the poncho. It wasn’t like in the movies where there were hoots and catcalls; it was just quiet, the scary kind of quiet. I didn’t think I had to worry about getting shanked or becoming someone’s bitch. I knew the deal; there were no long-term prisons in the Empire. These people were only going to three different places—the block, slavery, or home. I’m guessing most don’t go home.

I knew I should be scared. I wasn’t even sure if it was noon yet, and I just had the longest day of my existence. But fear didn’t really settle in. I knew I was in the middle of the street brawling, but it was in self-defense, and I could make a good case for it. Eight against one. Still, my particular brand of badassery was scary to behold, but I was hopeful there was a way out. Hells, I was scared of it. We marched along. Guard McGruff managed to stave off my attempts at conversation, which was no surprise there.

It turns out we were in a tower. We moved down circles and circles of metal stairs to ground level. We paused briefly at a last security door, where McGruff scribbled something on a clipboard and passed it through to his buddy on the other side. There was a small verbal exchange, and the door creaked open. From there, we moved outside.

The dingy, creepy, scary, oppressive, evil, smelly Hellhole of the prison tower gave way to a lovely grass courtyard. We were surrounded by ivy-covered red stone buildings with a lovely fountain of a fat naked guy in the middle. People walked through on the stone paths, paying little attention to us.

He led me into one of the buildings on the far side, and we started climbing what seemed to be a stuffy service stairwell. It was so narrow that we had to go single file.

“Watch the hands.” I murmured as he pushed me forward. He responded by grunting but kept his meat hooks off.

I didn’t get a great look at the building we entered from the outside, but it reminded me of the hall back in Wood Cut. We passed from the flat, square part to the taller octagonal section with the upper floors before he unceremoniously tossed me through a door to an office flanked by Imperial Guards. No words were exchanged.

I landed on a reasonably soft rug with a little thump and a spark of static electricity. I appreciated it since it was the only non-stone thing I’d been tossed onto lately. I was crouched over, on my knees, appreciating the expertise of the work. Beautiful, swirling metallic threads were woven into the red and black fibers.

“Get up.” Came a woman’s voice.

“Who,” I asked, looking up. “Me?”

She was sitting behind a large, polished wooden desk, the crest of the imperial eagle emblazoned on the front. Two chairs were set up before it; the right one was occupied by a well-dressed older dwarf, whose glare was challenging to see behind all the beard and eyebrows.

“Let’s just say that I don’t want my rug to get stained.”

“I was just admiring it,” I said, getting to my feet. “I don’t know much about rugs for the most part, but I can spot nice craftsmanship.”

She sighed and adjusted the pin on her lapel. I’d seen one like it back in Woodcut on the Magistrate there. The dwarf grumbled under his breath. The goofy thing was not a hit with this crowd, but it was all I had to work with. I mean, pink hair and all. I wearily got to my feet and stood, swaying a little for effect.

The woman exuded an air of regality. Her middle-aged hair was a striking blend of gold and white, pulled back and tied in an impeccably tight bun that highlighted the delicate, sophisticated lines of her beautiful face. She looked at me with piercing brown eyes that made me feel like a little mouse caught out in the open by a sexy as fuck house cat.

A slight, narrow smile was on her full, natural lips, reminiscent of the kind that could have made her an Instagram sensation in my old world. I swear to gods, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she licked them while staring me down. I would have loved to have seen that.

She was wearing a dark green dress that clung to her form. The stiff fabric mimicked the structured elegance of a pantsuit but in medieval style. Like a tailored suit jacket, the bodice dipped just low enough to reveal a tantalizing hint of cleavage.

That gods damn pin, denoting her status as an Imperial Magistrate, gleamed on her right lapel with an almost supernatural brilliance, adding to her commanding presence. I wanted so much to see her stand so that I could have a look at the rest of her.

“Sit.” She spoke, but I swear to the gods that no muscle in her body moved apart from her magnificent lips.

“Yes, ma’am.”

I obeyed, moving around the chair and sitting as quickly as possible. She was sexy and commanding. Without a conscious thought, I just did as I was told. I felt more than a little twinge of pleasure in doing it, too.

I sat on the edge of the seat, my back as straight as I could, and my hands folded in my lap like an obedient student. Oh, my gods! I think this might be a thing. My mind just kept screaming at me as my body went into a complete jelly meltdown. Baby likes a strict mama! Part of me wanted not to follow directions so she could punish me a little. The rest just screamed at me for also wanting to crawl under her desk and kneel in front of her with my chin on her knee.

There was a quiet moment where the three of us just sat there. I know it was an intimidation tactic, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to be doing when the two of them stared at me. I just cycled through expressions on my face and glanced around the room. Of course, all this stillness and silence would have been a million times better if I hadn’t been screaming inside my head with visions of her standing over me in a much more revealing version of her outfit. It was like I just unlocked some epic world-changing achievement in a video game, but I had to be quiet about it because I was playing on my laptop in class.

“Regan Summer.” She said finally. “AKA Regan Moon.” She reached into her drawer, pulled out my silver token, and set it on the desktop. “You came into this world as a level one nothing less than six weeks ago.”

“Do you know what this is?” She held up a piece of paper.

“I’ve been hit in the head about three times today,” I said, still channeling my inner naughty schoolgirl. “So rather than try to say something clever or funny, I’m just going to let you tell me.”

“This is the assessment we did this morning while you were lying on the floor of your cell.”

“Um, K?”

“Regan Summer. Level Nine. Rogue level three, Assassin level four.” She flopped the paper down on the desk. “And a level one Cleric. But for some reason, we can’t determine which church you are a cleric of.”

“I like to think of myself as an overall spiritual person.”

“The only skills you seem to have involve theft and murder.”

“Well, I can cook spaghetti in a pinch.”

“You have a whole bunch of levels but not nearly enough skills to support them.” She glared, ignoring my spaghetti comment.

“I have life experience.”

“In a month? I doubt that.”

“Maybe I just go around kissing gods.”

“Let’s stop right there.” The woman said. She pointed at the pin on her lapel. “You know what this is?”

“You’re the magistrate in these here parts.”

“Calvisia Eumenia. And yes, I am the Imperial Magistrate for this city. It also means that I have power over you.”

“Hi,” I said. “Regan.” I offered my shackled hand up to shake with her.

“The thing is, I don’t need some kind of rogue element running around in my city.”

“Our city.” The dwarf chimed in crossly.

She gave him a steely look before moving on. “Since you came into this world, you have done nothing but train up thievery and murder, as far as I can tell.”

“I know it looks that way, but I’m also working on some other things.”

“And there is no place for you here. You up and killed seven people in the street less than two hours ago.”

“It was self-defense.”

“You used a magical spell, which our ritualists can’t even identify, that managed to vaporize a man’s head and kill his two companions.”

“You sure that was me?”

“That doesn’t even take into account the other four you killed in the alley.”

“They were all members of the Red Hook Gang!” The dwarf bellowed at Eumenia. “All known kidnappers and slavers. The lass here did the city a service out on that street!”

“You are here as a courtesy.” She hissed at the dwarf.

“I’m here because I have right to be.” He huffed back. “City security is my jurisdiction.”

“Under Imperial authority, Chainbeard.” She snapped. “And I think my courtesy has been exhausted. Don’t worry. I don’t think we will be executing Miss Summer today. If things change, I’ll keep you informed.”

“No need to call yer dogs.” He growled at her, standing. He turned and gave me the slightest of smiles, at least I think it was; I mean, the beard and all. He then stormed out of the room, throwing the doors open.

“Dwongreck Chainbeard,” Eumenia said. “Captain of the City Guard.”

“I like him.”

“As I was saying,” Eumenia continued. “There is no place for you in my city. You have done nothing but train up your criminal skills, which means you have been committing crimes. You have found a way to close off part of your Character Sheet to us. You, little elf, are hiding things.”

She locked eyes on me and tilted her head slightly. Like a schoolmarm, disappointed in me, the beautiful, intelligent, yet rebellious student. My mind kept going back to the sexy and wildly inappropriate schoolgirl fantasies when I should have been scared shitless.

“You will be taken from this office to the East Gate. You will start walking away from Ironstone. You will be executed on the spot if you turn around before sundown.”

There was a record scratch in the soundtrack of my life. I opened my mouth to speak and then closed it again as the rush of dread came over me. Words entered my head: things to say, deals to make. I mean, this place became a home for me. I did do some stuff, but being forced out of the city for this was unimaginable. I was defending myself. I could feel a rise of panic for the first time since I came here. I thought it would be more like having a nasty talk with the assistant principal.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Um, what about my property?”

“Oh, yes. Your suite at The Crying Jester. Under Imperial law, if a domicile is used for criminal activity, all contents will be seized by the Empire and sold.” She looked at me coldly. “That includes your illegal girlfriend, the frost elf.”

“FUCK YOU!” I bellowed, standing. Rage filled me as I struggled to find essence through the manacles that kept it suppressed. I wanted so much to see her head transformed into red mist.

I was about to throw myself at her when a rustling and clinking of armor came behind me as the guards ran in. She leaned back in her seat casually and held her hand to the men, making them stop behind me.

“No need to come storming in.” She said sweetly over my shoulder. “Back to your stations and close the door.”

They muttered a “Yes, Magistrate” and rattled as they exited the room and the door shut.

She kept the same smile on her face that she used with the guards as she looked up at me. She held me with her gaze, and then her eyes hardened. “Sit down. And the next words out of your filthy little whore mouth had better be I’m sorry, Magistrate Eumenia.” Her words were so venomous that I almost felt my VP going down. “You will be learning your place today. Starting with how you speak to me.”

I sat. The fantasy of this sexy older woman having power over me, bending me to her will, was gone. I wanted to kill her. I never really wanted to kill anyone before, certainly no one that hadn’t hit me on the head or tried to murder/rape me. I had never really sat across from someone that incensed me to the point that I could fucking do it. What a waste. Damn this shit to hells.

“I’m sorry, Magistrate Eumenia.” It came out barely more than a whisper. It took all my energy and all my will to speak it. I kept my body as still as I could because I was afraid that if I even moved one inch, I would attack her. But as the words left my mouth, I was going to strangle her, rip out her hair, beat her face into a pile of mush.

“Good.” The smile shifted on her face. It hardened into something cruel. “Maybe you’re not as stupid as you look.”

She stood slowly and then sauntered around from behind her desk. Her form was striking, and I did get the view of her smooth, long legs from under her thigh-length skirt. I was keeping my gaze down and tried to pretend those beautiful legs weren’t wired up to a nasty-ass ugly brain. She stopped right in front of my chair.

She pivoted, placing her weight on her back leg, and swung around, slapping me across the face. She hit me hard enough to make my teeth rattle and almost knocked me out of the chair. I was bent over to the side, trying hard to keep from vomiting from the supernaturally strong slap. The world spun for a moment before I managed to shake the stars from my vision and sit up. My face was burning.

“Look at me when I speak to you.” I did as I was told. I was so angry that the tears flowed; I could feel my face getting hot and puffy. “And when I tell you to do something, you say Yes, Mistress.”

I was about to mouth off again when the next slap came—this time from the opposite direction. The reaction was the same; it wasn’t as forceful, but it was equally painful and disorienting as I felt my body get smacked to the side. I righted myself and sat briefly, eyes closed, catching my breath.

“Yes, Mistress,” I muttered. I said the words, but I made sure there was a dose of poison in my voice. I didn’t know why. I’m stronger than this! I screamed in my head. She can’t make me say those words! I wanted to shout. I did what I was told and could feel the knots in my stomach. I said the words she told me to say.

Knowing she had power over me made me rage. But I knew that even if I let her destroy me, she would go after Leoleth. Maybe even my other friends. Fucking bitch.

“You might just survive this, you filthy whore.” She said with a smile. “That is what you are, but I happen to have a soft spot for nasty little sluts like you.”

“Sluts like me?” My voice was cracking, and my throat was dry. I was ready to unleash a torrent of obscenities her way, but she looked at me with a sideways glance, which was enough warning to stop.

“Sorry, Mistress.” It came out angry, but I felt she liked it that way. Fuck me. I felt more and more helpless.

“You may not be as worthless as I first thought.” She leered. “But you can’t keep acting like a spoiled little brat. You will never speak back to me again. You will do what I tell you and not act without permission. I’m sure you have something you would like to say.”

“Plenty,” I growled.

She swung her hand at me again, stopping as I flinched away. “I think maybe I’ve been too harsh with you. I like little girls like you, so perhaps we can try to be more friendly with each other.”

She bent over and kissed me gently on the lips. My whole being exploded inside, and my body shivered.

“I know you like girls too. We can be friends, be nice to each other, or we can fight. You don’t want to fight me, pretty elf.” She stroked my swollen cheek. “Because I don’t lose,” she whispered, kissing me again. And my inner self screamed. My body was so tense that my muscles were hurting.

“I don’t want to fight you.” I gasped for air. Trying to keep myself steady, hold back the trembling, and the sense of panic setting in.

“You will call me Mistress.” She said sternly. And…” she whispered in my ear, this time, so quiet, I almost couldn’t hear her. “…since we are going to be such good friends, when I kiss you, you kiss me back.”

She kissed me a third time. It was deep and sensuous, and I returned in kind. Her tongue went deep into my mouth, and she bit down on my lower lip before she pulled away. She gently stroked my cheek when she pulled back. My insides churned. I was being violated worse than I had in my entire life.

“Such a good girl. I want to think of banishment from the city as scenario number two.” She took a seat in the chair opposite me. “You get exiled from the city, and your girlfriend is sold on the open market as an illegal immigrant.”

“Is there something you would like to say?” It was a loaded question. I mean fuck yeah, Die bitch die! Please don’t exile me and sell my friend into slavery! I was sure neither of those would be what she was looking for, so I tried my best to follow the conversation despite my brain rapidly fogging up. “Do you like scenario number two?”

“No,” I paused, the words getting caught in my throat. “Mistress. I don’t like scenario number two.”

“You wouldn’t like scenario number three, then, most certainly.”

“May I ask you what that would be, Mistress?

“Almost the same,” she smiled. “Except you lose your head.” She nodded back and forth. “Maybe your whore of a girlfriend too, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll keep her in the tower for the guards to enjoy?”

“You don’t know her that well. She’d probably like that.” It prompted a chuckle from The Magistrate. I sighed in relief.

“The icy bitch is a whore like you then. Is there anything you would like to ask me?”

“Yes, Mistress.” I panted, trying so hard to focus on the topic of conversation through my rage-filled brain. “Will you please tell me about scenario number one?”

“Yes, I will.” She sat for a long moment. She looked me up and down. I was painfully aware of the poncho that barely covered my naked body. “You are a beautiful little mess. I can’t wait to see you all cleaned up.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” I clenched my jaw as I spoke. I was angry and scared. She had complete control over me, and I knew things were going to get worse.

“There is a former member of the Imperial Guard.” She started. “She’s a thief like you and an oath breaker. I want her and what she has stolen delivered to me in this office.”

“You have all the resources of the Empire and the City Guard. Why would you need me?”

She leaned forward and rested her right hand on my bare thigh. “Because,” she whispered, tracing little circles on my skin with her index finger. “There is corruption in the Empire and Ironstone. It needs to be handled delicately.” My body shuddered at her touch.

“I’m sorry, Mistress, but I’m new here.” I inhaled, trying to catch my breath enough to speak. “I don’t even know my way around the city yet, and you want me to go hunting for a fugitive?”

“You are so precious.” She slipped out of the chair and knelt beside me, her mouth at my ear. She licked my ear lobe, making me shiver. She whispered, almost too quietly to hear. “But still so fucking stupid. Do you think I would be relying entirely on you? A little whore?” She kissed my cheek and straightened up. “I just want to give you a chance. I would like to see if you can be useful to me. You will do this if you have any hope for you and your precious little frost elf.”

“And so…” Deep breath. “…What happens if I get her for you?” Deep breath.

“You can continue your miserable little existence in my city.” She bent and kissed me. I had to kiss her back, but at least it wasn’t a deep and sexy one. I wanted to bite her in the face when she got that close.

“Thank you, Mistress.” She stood again, moving around her desk. “And Leoleth?”

“I’ll look the other way for now.” she was at her desk, looking at me intently. She sat up straight in her chair, looking down at me while I shivered in my seat. I felt broken. I felt filthy. I was beaten, and I had no idea why it was so damn easy for her to do this to me.

“You have questions.” She brushed her jacket and straightened her pin. A feeling of ease came over me. “You may ask them.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” The words just came automatically to me at this point. “What if we just decide to leave the city?”

She sighed and looked at me like a disappointed mother about to scold a child who had accidentally broken a plate.

“I don’t want you to think you can just defy me because you want to.” She then smiled. “But I’ll humor you.” She held up my token. “I’ll be holding on to this for a while. Regan Summer’s last known location is here in Ironstone. If you hop the wall and get picked up by a press gang, you cannot verify your identity. And I’ll make sure any inquiries end with me. I’ll ensure you are sold off into the darkest, most depressing place imaginable. You’re new to this world, so you have no idea how far down you can find yourself buried.”

“I understand, Mistress.” A chill ran down my spine. “What’s the timeframe involved?”

“You have until sunrise on the last day of the Festival of Renewal.”

I knew enough about the Imperial calendar that this was the last day of the year. This meant that I would be conducting a manhunt during the five-day Festival of Renewal, which was like Mardi Gras on cocaine.

“You don’t want to miss the deadline.”

“I won’t, Mistress.”

“But,” She leaned forward. “If one of my other agents beats you to it, then I’ll be forced to return to scenarios two or three.” She smiled. “Unless I can think of something worse than those.”

“I understand, Mistress.”

“Verrona Faedan.” She looked at me, expecting some response. I had no idea what I was supposed to say.

“I don’t understand, Mistress.”

“Her name, you dumb cunt. Verrona Faedan was a guard down in the treasury.”

“And then…She stole something?”

“Yes,” She stiffened in her chair. “A ruby necklace, an extremely valuable one.” Her demeanor shifted. I could sense her unease for the first time since I came into this room. This was a touchy topic, and she seemed to be a little frightened.

“If she just stole something expensive, why all the fuss? Something like that will turn up eventually. Right?”

“The Empress has asked that it be delivered to her for the Festival Gala, which she will be attending here.”

“Oh shit.”

“Exactly.” The Magistrate said. “That’s another reason I want outside help. You’ve met Chainbeard. He’s not exactly an ally.”

“You think Faedan stole the rock to hurt you? Or does she think she can fence this thing somewhere?”

“I don’t know her motivations. I do know this; the city’s exits are locked down. Chainbeard would rather bring her in and take credit for the capture. The City Guard is effective but lacks the resources to both secure the exits and sweep the city. Faedan has all but vanished. I want her, and I want my necklace back.”

“How do you know she hasn’t already left?”

“All of us who serve the Empire have the Imperial Mark. She pushed up her right sleeve, and the Imperial Eagle faded into view on her forearm. The enchantments will alert the guards if she approaches the city wall.”

“There’s no way to circumvent it?”

“Even if she chopped off her arm, she would still carry the Mark.”

“We can’t use that to track her?”

“No, it’s only used to identify her as a member of the Imperial Government.”

“Is there any other way she could escape the city?” I asked, searching for ways in my head. “The sewers, the old mining system, anything like that?”

“We can’t track her, but we can verify that her Mark is within the city limits. If she does find a way to slip out, we will be alerted.”

“So, she’s trapped in Ironstone, but really, all she has to do is lay low until after The Festival to ruin your life.”

“You’re smart for a little slut,” She sneered at me. “That’s why I like you.”

“Thank you,” I paused, really hating this shit. “Mistress.” I hissed out the last part of the word.

She stood up from the desk again, straightening her dress and adjusting her pin. She opened a drawer and pulled out a red cotton cloth about the size of a handkerchief. She gave her pin a little polish before tossing it back in the drawer. She stepped to the right of the chair but stayed behind the desk.

“You’re only going to remember the details of the quest that I’m going to send you when we’re done here and what will happen if you fail me.” She looked down at me like I was an insect. “I’ll even let you believe that you have a choice as to whether or not you do it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Do not address me that way. Do you understand? I will fucking break you.” She pointed to the floor next to her. “Here.”

“Yes, Mistress.” I stood.

“Hands and knees, bitch.” It was a dispassionate order.

“No.”

In a flash, she was on me. Her hand flew as she belted me good and hard on the chin. The force knocked me back onto the chair. She grabbed me by the hair and yanked me down to my knees.

“That,” she panted. “Will be the last time you defy me.” Her fist came down on me, connecting with the side of my face, and I could feel teeth loosening under her blow.

“It makes me sad knowing that you won’t remember this.” She gripped me by the hair again, pulling my head forward. “The most important moment in your life.” Her words came out between hard breaths but were steady and forceful. She gave me a knee to the chin, knocking me backward onto the floor.

“This is the moment when you finally find the place you belong, little weakling.”

The world started to turn dark around the edges as I tried to move. I had been clocked pretty hard, but I could still get up. I rolled to my side and started to push off the floor with my shackled hands. Make for the door, I thought as I tried to get my knees under me. A kick to the side of my head made reality spin and wobble as I tried to get my body and brain to function.

“You are the frail…” Her voice trickled through the haze of delirium. My head throbbed, and my stomach was twisted up in knots. I’m pretty sure I fell backward, but now I was lying on my stomach. What was she doing? I started to get up, but a boot kicked me hard between the shoulders, knocking me back down.

She spoke sweetly, like a mother to a child. “…just a little girl who is nothing if she doesn’t serve.” She pushed the fabric of the poncho off my back and ran her hand across my ass. “Just a little plaything for the strong.”

She had something in her hand. She ran it down the back of my leg, something cold and metallic. It might have been a knife or dagger, but it was too dull. She teased the back of my thigh with it. “He brought you to me. A gift for loyal service.” She tapped the object on my butt. “But I’m afraid to say, nothing from him is free. Ironically, you’re the one that pays the price.”

“Strength without will is but the shadow of weakness .” .” She spoke the words confidently with a reverent tone to her voice. “Power is the right of those who dare to wield it, while the frail, too feeble to resist, are fated to serve.”

She straddled me, facing backward. I kicked and tried to roll out from under her, but she pinned my arms with her knees. She was running her hands on the back of my thighs.

“Such is the law that governs this realm and all realms beyond.”

A searing pain exploded from the back of my right thigh. I screamed. My skin was on fire. The scent of my burning flesh permeated my nostrils, overwhelming the taste and smell of the dirt and dust on the rug. I collapsed from the pain as all my strength zapped away. The screaming stopped, at least I thought it did, but the echoes of my voice bounced around in my head. The sound of my skin cooking under the brand sounded like someone had stuck my head in an air fryer with a week's worth of cheap bacon. I collapsed from the pain as all my strength zapped away. The screaming stopped, and I couldn’t breathe.

She held my body in place, burning me for what seemed like an eternity. The pain spread from the back of my leg to my entire body. It felt like my skin was on fire, and then it moved inside me. I swear to the gods, something was burning away inside me.

“He has been paid…” She pulled my head up off the floor by the hair. She was gripping a control rod right in front of my face that stunk like burnt flesh. It was the width of a pencil with a flat edge on the end about three inches wide. I could barely focus on the pattern in the middle: three connected chain links. It was still smoking, and my skin was seared to it. “…and you are his gift to me.” She hissed with pleasure and licked at the tears on my cheek. “In this realm, and all the realms beyond.”

My body just gave out, and my mind, not too long after that. I don’t think it was for very long, but it could have been days as far as my messed-up brain could tell. When I returned to the land of the living, she was standing at her desk.

“Hands and knees.”

“Yes, Mistress.” I pushed myself to my hands and knees. Not easy since the shackles made it almost impossible. I was covered in sweat, with my face and legs burning from being ground into the carpet.

“Over here.”

My stomach muscles clenched as a wave of nausea washed over me. And I could feel tears welling in my eyes. I didn't want to do it. But I had to crawl over to her, and my mind was fighting it. It would have been so easy to let go and follow her instructions.

“Yes, Mistress.” I lowered down to my hands and knees. Again, shackles didn’t make it easy. My face was barely above the floor since I couldn’t move my hands more than a few inches, and I slinked slash wiggled to her position next to the desk. The stone scraped my bare skin.

I reached the spot on the floor that she had indicated. She reached down and gripped me by my hair.

“Kneel.”

“Yes Mistress,” I cried painfully as she yanked hard. She let go when I was kneeling in front of her.

“I have broken so many little creatures like you.” She eased out of her dress, letting it drop into a small heap beside me.