Martyr's Bargain

Robert looked out at the countryside and then checked his map again. "This is strange," he said.

"What's wrong?" Emmy asked.

"We're nearly to Galehaven."

"What's strange about that?"

"It should have taken us two more days," Robert explained. "The winds around Galehaven are notoriously robust. According to these charts we should have expected a headwind that would have slowed us to a crawl. Instead, we've had calm weather the entire way."

"Well that's a good thing, right?" Emmy replied. "We're ahead of schedule."

"Yes and no," Robert said. "We're here, yes. But your collar's charge is nearly empty. I was planning on topping it off before we arrived. I don't think we'll have time now to fill it before we get to the town."

They had spent most of the past week experimenting with the collar - trying to learn how long it could hold a charge and what was the most effective way to charge it. It was frustratingly inconsistent, but it seemed that the collar could go at least two or three days on a full charge. And the collar gained a charge exponentially faster with a severe punishment compared to a light one. A simple hogtie or a crotch rope would barely brighten the gem at all, while an elaborate predicament that had Emmy begging for release would have the gem beaming brightly after an hour or two.

In between sessions they spent a lot of time talking. Emmy would tell him about what it was like growing up in the royal court and how she liked to sneak out of the castle to ride her pony through the forest. Robert would regale her with tales of his adventures - fighting battles, winning tournaments, and traveling all around the kingdom.

Emmy looked at her collar in a mirror. "I think we have enough to last us through midday at least. Let's land and get the lay of the town, then we can come back to the ship to, er, top it off as needed."

"Sounds like a plan."

As they flew closer and closer to Galehaven, sightings of its famous windmills became more and more frequent. Galehaven was a well known mill town. Farmers would bring their wheat from all around the region to have it ground into flour at the many mills that harnessed the plentiful wind of the region. Only, every windmill they flew over was idle. The usually reliable winds had calmed, depriving the region of its economic engine and its prosperity.

They came in for a landing just outside of town. Emmy threw on a hooded robe to try and disguise herself from anyone who might recognize her or be curious about her collar.

The desperation of the townspeople was apparent as they walked down the main drag. Long lines of hungry people snaked around the temples, hoping to get a charity meal. Skinny, young children begged in the streets. Meanwhile the warehouses overflowed with unmilled grain. There was an air of general malaise among all the people - a scruffy old man arguing with a teamster over a delivery, a couple of drunks brawling in an alleyway, a watchful vendor who suspiciously eyed the people who looked over his wares.

Robert walked up to a surly constable leaning against a wall, aggressively indifferent to all the happenings around him. He seemed just as likely to bash one's teeth out with his truncheon as he was to give them the time of day. The only difference between him and the ragged drunks prowling around on the streets, it seemed, was the badge pinned to his chest.

"What do you want?" the constable snarled, angered that anyone would dare disturb his intensely focused apathy.

"We're looking for Silas Pemberton, the archeologist and historian. Do you know where we might find him?"

The constable paused a moment, perhaps considering whether to knock the interloper upside the head and relieve him of his purse. The sword hanging from Robert's side made him think better of the idea. Nevertheless, it wasn't until Robert slipped a coin into the man's dirty palm that he found a willingness to reply to the question.

"He lives a couple miles outside of town, out in the forest," the constable grumbled. "But," he added, shifting his gaze, "it seems you're in luck, that's him right there at the end of the street." He pointed to the scruffy old man they'd passed just a minute ago.

Robert thanked the constable and turned to go talk to Dr. Pemberton, but Emmy paused as she felt a tug at the bottom of her dress. She looked down to see a dirty orphan girl with bright eyes shining up at her. "Please, m'lady," the girl said with a sloppy curtsey, "can you spare a coin for me? I'm so hungry."

"Ach, off with you, ya filthy rat! Quit bothering the important folk. Can't ya see they're busy?" said the constable, raising his baton to strike the girl.

Emmy stayed his hand. "It's quite alright," she said, dismissing the brute. "Here you go." She slipped a few silver pieces into the girl's hands. The girl gaped at the coins - it was more money than she'd ever seen before. She curtsied again and then quickly ran off, just in case Emmy decided to change her mind.

Emmy caught up with Robert as he was marching over to the professor. "We have to do something to help these people," she insisted.

"I know," Robert agreed. "But we need to stay focused on our mission. We'll be able to better help everyone once we understand more about the collar."

They approached Dr. Pemberton, who was still in a heated argument with a man standing in front of a covered wooden wagon.

"I already told you, old man! I'm not moving these fucking stones another inch," the animated wagon driver said. "There isn't enough money in the world to get me to go back out on those highways! I was robbed three times between Green Valley and here - three times! By the last one I had so little left to take that they stole the boots off my feet!"

"But it's only a few more miles!" the professor insisted. "You don't even need to take the highways!"

"I'm not risking dying for a bunch of crusty old rocks! The only reason the robbers didn't take 'em was because they were too heavy to carry off."

"Those 'crusty old rocks' are the Pillars of Amaghor! They're the oldest known example of the Stypian style of writing. I have to have them back at my house to study."

Robert stepped between the two men. "Excuse me, Professor Pemberton? My name is Sir Robert Goodhart. I have an ancient artifact in my possession that I was hoping I could have you take a look at."

The professor acknowledged Robert but kept glancing past him at the bulky gray stones sitting in the back of the wagon.

"A knight, huh? Maybe you can talk some sense into this lunkhead here and make him deliver my stones!"

The wagon driver crossed him arms and scowled.

"Please professor, I am on an urgent mission for the king, and -"

"I don't care," he stamped his foot like a petulant child. "I'm not doing anything for anyone until I get my stones!"

Robert sighed. "What if I delivered the stones? Would you look at my artifact then?"

"Yes."

"Is this okay with you?" Robert asked the wagoneer.

"Just get my wagon back to me and I'll be glad to be rid of this rubble," he said.

"Okay. It's a deal," Robert said.

"What is this artifact anyway?" Dr. Pemberton asked. "If it's an Aurelion era sword that you bought from that dealer in Riverside then I regret to tell you you've been scammed."

"I'd rather not show you in public," Robert said. "I can give you all the details when we meet."

"Fine, fine," the irritated professor said, continuing to look as his precious stones. "I need to gather some tomes from the bookseller for my studies. I'll meet you at my home in a few hours. That should give you plenty of time to bring my items."

He quickly jotted down the directions to his place then mounted his horse and rode off to a different part of town.

"Well then," Robert said. "I guess we're in the courier business." He turned to the wagoneer. "I'd like to hire you to look after my ship while we're away." He showed him a couple of gold pieces and the wagoneer's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "And we'll need to borrow your mules too."

"Anything you want!" the wagoneer agreed, reaching for the coins. Robert gave him one, with the promise of another once they returned.

"We need to gather some supplies for our trip. We'll be back shortly."

Robert and Emmy headed back to the ship. "I hope we'll finally be able to get some answers about how this collar works," Emmy said.

"Yeah," Robert agreed. He moved Emmy's robe to take a look at the gem while they walked. "But I don't think we have enough charge to safely last us until we get to the professor's house. I don't want want to risk running low in a populated area. We might have to charge it on the way."

Emmy stopped and turned Robert to face her. "I want you to push me hard this time," she said soberly. "These people need help and if the collar can deliver it then we have to try. Don't hold back."

"You're sure?" Robert asked. "Professor Pemberton might be able to tell us how to actually use the collar. We could wait until after that."

"It can't wait," she decided, remembering the bright-eyed orphan girl. "The sooner I can help them, the less they will suffer."

---

Half an hour later they were back at the wagoneer's barn. Emmy had been tasked with gathering supplies for their journey while Robert had rifled through Thorne's crates. She was anxious about what was in store for her when she heard his duffle bag jangle as he set it down on the ground. Robert's creativity when it came to punishments was often equal parts clever and cruel, which she found surprising for a man who seemed so mild mannered and upstanding. She wondered if their mission was exposing a darker side that he didn't know he had.

The last of their supplies were loaded into the back of the wagon. Robert turned to her. "Strip," he commanded. A shiver of excitement ran down her spine. Oh no, not again, she thought as she felt her pussy tingle with anticipation.

She shrugged out of her robe and pulled her dress over her head. Her nipples immediately hardened against the chill of the barn, or maybe from arousal due to her impending punishment - she chose to believe the former.

Robert first picked up a broad leather belt that was several inches wide and cinched it tightly around her waist. Next, he helped her into a short leather jacket that opened in the back. She slid her arms into the sleeves and found that they were lengthened and stitched closed at the ends so that her hands were held flat within, trapped between the layers of thick leather. A cuff sewn into each sleeve near her wrist made sure that she couldn't slide her hands back out.

The jacket only extended down to her ribs, but there were two circular holes in the front for her tits to squeeze through, laces dangled from the bottom of each hole. Robert closed the jacket in the back, then pawed at Emmy's tits until they slid through the holes. He then took the long lace hanging beneath each breast and wrapped it tightly around and around the base of each tit before tying it off. Her pale flesh starkly contrasted with the dark, black leather ensuring that her bosom was now prominently on display. Robert then returned to the back of the jacket and snugged down those laces, pulling out all the slack, lifting and separating her tits, and pressing the air from her lungs.

Now Robert took a clip and linked together the ring that was sewn onto the end of each leather sleeve so that the tips of her fingers nearly touched in front of her body. Then he grabbed her elbows and pulled them back as far as this new link would allow. He threaded a leather belt behind her back and around her elbows and cinched it tight so that her arms were no trapped at her sides with her hands in front and her elbows behind.

Robert stepped back to inspect his work. Emmy thought she noticed his face a bit flushed. Was he turned on by seeing her like this?

"Like what you see?" she teased with a little spin and a jiggle of her tits.

"Clearly you do," he retorted with a smile as he brushed a finger along her pussy which came away glistening with her arousal. Emmy bit her lip and blushed. She hated how her body betrayed her like this, declaring her as some sort of depraved kinkster when she was nothing of the sort.

"Now we can't risk having someone recognize you, so," he held up a black leather hood. Emmy gulped. She really disliked hoods. They were so tight, so confining, so humiliating. She could be standing in a wide open room but the right kind of hood by itself was enough to trigger her claustrophobia.

Robert opened the laces and pulled it over her head. He bundled her hair into a pair of long blond ponytails that he fed out through holes in the top. Thankfully this hood had eyeholes so she could still see out, at least. He got the hood into position but didn't tighten it yet. First he produced a harness gag with a big ring that fit in her mouth. Emmy's jaw had to stretch to the utmost just to get the ring in behind her teeth. Then Robert tightened the hood. She felt the leather pressing in on all sides, crushing her head, squeezing her jaw against the ring. Finally he adjusted the harness gag into place, though the tightness of the hood by itself was plenty enough to keep the ring in her mouth. For one final humiliating touch he clipped a set of leather blinders to the harness gag, ensuring that her vision was limited solely to what was directly in front of her.

"I remember you telling me fondly of your adventures riding through the forest on your pony," Robert said. "Obviously we don't have your pony with us, so I thought it might be fun for you to play that role."

He lifted a pair of knee high leather boots into her field of view. At first Emmy couldn't tell what he meant, then she saw how the soles of the boots were shaped like a horse's hooves. He sat her down on a bench and slipped her foot into the first boot. She could feel her toes bend as her foot conformed to the stiff shape of the leather. He closed and locked the buckles running from her ankle up to just below her knee. Then he equipped the second boot.

Now when he guided Emmy up to her feet she nearly fell backwards when her weight shifted to the boots. The shape of the footwear forced her to stand up on her toes just like high heels did, however, unlike high heels, there was no heel to support the back of her foot. She soon found herself balancing precariously on tiptoe, relying on the flat "hoof" to keep her from rocking backwards - a position which quickly caused her toes to ache.

"Ungh!" she protested, turning to Robert. His coy smile reminded her that she had asked for this.

"Very nice," Robert remarked. "You make a lovely little ponygirl." He turned back to his bag. Emmy heard it jangle noisily as he adjusted it. "Just a few more things. I wasn't sure if you knew this, but we're heading into bear country. The bears are generally more afraid of you than you are of them, but if you surprise them then they can get aggressive. So it's best that they can hear you from a long way off. That's why I've got these."

He upended the bag and a whole tangle of bells spilled out. He plucked a few out of the pile and clipped them to the belt around her waist, but this was just the beginning. He then found two leather straps festooned with bells and buckled one around each thigh. He clipped bells onto the straps of her boots and onto parts of her harness gag. Emmy couldn't make even the slightest movement now without it being accompanied by the jingling of bells.

But still Robert was not finished. Now he picked up a heavier bell, its lower tone belying the heavier brass that comprised it. The bell was attached to a thin six inch chain which was connected to the cruelest nipple clamp that they had in their collection. Robert held it up before Emmy's eyes so she could fully appreciate what she was in for.

"Nngh! Nngh!" she begged, regretting that she'd told him to go so hard.

Robert ignored her pleas and brought the clamp to her nipple. Emmy steeled herself but could never really prepare herself for the vicious bite of the strong clamp on her especially sensitive nipples.

"Argh! Ahhh!" she screamed. Her immediate instinct was to jerk away from the source of the pain but this only sent the bell swinging, twisting and tugging at her anguished tit as it added its deep rattle to the jingling of the dozen other bells attached to her.

She tried to pull away when Robert raised the matching bell to clamp to her other nipple, but Robert held her firmly in place. Her knees went weak as the second clamp latched steadfastly onto her tit. Robert caught her, holding her flailing body as she jerked about like an animal caught in a trap. Once she had recovered somewhat he leaned her against the back of the wagon and returned to his dwindling pile of gear.

He came back with another heavy bell connected by chain to a clamp. This clamp, though, was two flat tabs held together by a strong spring. When Emmy saw it her mind filled with dread as she pondered the likely place it was going. She was surprised, then, when Robert commanded that she stick out her tongue.

"Ungh?" she questioned.

"Come on," Robert insisted. "It's going on there one way or another. You may as well cooperate."

Emmy reluctantly poked her tongue out through the ring gag. Robert squeezed open the clamp and pushed it fully onto her tongue. Emmy groaned as she felt it squeeze shut. Robert let go and his hold on the clamp was replaced by the pull of the chain as the heavy bell drooped down and nestled between her bound breasts. With effort she could still wag her tongue, but she couldn't draw it back into her gaping mouth. In an instant she was a drooling mess. Saliva ran freely down her chin, soaking the leather of her hood and dribbling down onto her chest.

Even after this Robert wasn't done. Emmy was anxiously aware that nothing had yet happened to her pussy. Robert soon rectified this with two more heavy bells attached by chains to clamps.

"Unnngh! Unnngh!" Emmy moaned as her labia sagged under the weighty pull of these latest bells. They hadn't even left the barn yet and already she felt like she would collapse.

Now, at least, Sir Robert had exhausted his supply of bells to humiliate her with. Though he was still not finished. Emmy swayed gently back and forth, slowly getting lost in her torment. Her feet hurt. Her pussy hurt. Her tits hurt. Her tongue hurt. Every unsteady movement she made was accompanied by a vigorous tinkling of bells.

Robert disappeared out of her limited field of view for a moment. With all her distractions Emmy could be forgiven for forgetting that he was even there after another minute passed.

Then she felt his touch once more. Softly, gently, gingerly, his fingers reached for her clit. "Oooooh," Emmy cooed. Despite all her pain, despite all her suffering, despite all her humiliation, despite the desperate wishes of her conscious mind, she was so completely aroused right now. Her pussy flowed like a tap. Her wetness collected between her legs and trickled down her thigh adding more fuel to the burning humiliation she felt.

Robert's finger continued circling her clit. His deft ministrations sent waves of pleasure colliding against the walls of her pain. More! More! Her body demanded, taking over control from her mind. Bells jangled as she rocked her hips back and forth like she was riding an imaginary cock. His skillful fingers brought her higher and higher and higher until, when she was just about to approach orgasm - snap! His fingers vanished from her clit, replaced immediately by the sharp bite of a cruel clamp on her engorged bud.

"Ahhhhhh! Ahhh!" Emmy screamed. Her whole body was thrown into chaos by the sudden reversal. Her mind reeled with pain, pleasure, fear, lust, surprise, desire, all mixing into a terrible tempest of confused feelings and emotions.

The sudden assault sent her collapsing into Robert's arms. Her whole body trembled with... what? Pain? Pleasure? Agony? Bliss? In that moment, to her addled mind, they were all the same. Did she cum? Even she didn't know. All she could tell was that it was one of the most intense experiences of her life. It left her gasping for breath and swimming with confusion.

"Nothing more than what you asked for," Robert whispered in her ear as he held her in his arms for a few minutes while she calmed. Then he set her upright and bade they continue.

Emmy felt exhausted and they hadn't yet taken a single step on their journey. Robert tugged at the clamp on her throbbing clit - it had no attached bell. Emmy grunted and squealed as he lifted it upward and simultaneously tugged the ring linking her trapped hands downward, then he clipped the clamp to the ring with a short chain. When he let go Emmy felt her hands rising back to her belly button where the strain on her bound elbows was the least. She stopped short, though, when she felt the sharp tug on her poor pinched clit. She quickly pulled her hands back downward. Now she had to battle against the strap binding her elbows behind her back. She could already feel her fingers start to tingle from lack of circulation as she fought for just another millimeter of slack that would allow her hands to drop closer to her pussy and relieve the pull on the clamp.

Robert stepped back to admire his work. Emmy stood unsteadily on her pony boots, gasping for breath and grimacing in pain. A fine sheen of sweat covered her body. Her tits glistened with the saliva that poured from her mouth as they darkened to a light purple from the tight bindings. She stood hunched over, weighed down by the pull of the clamps on her tongue, tits, and pussy, and hobbled by the strange boots that trapped her feet.

"Tsk, tsk," Robert admonished. "You'd never make it as a soldier in one of my battalions with a marching posture like that."

Emmy took the comment as a warning and tried to straighten herself up. She arched her back and thrust out her chest, she tipped her chin up. But Robert was already set to "correct" her posture. A shiver of dread ran down her spine as he showed her the anal hook he had for her.

"Nnngh! Nnngh! Nnngh!" she begged. How much more could he subject her to? She felt like she was already creeping past her limit.

"Come now," Robert said as he lubed up the tip of the hook which had a round ball the size of a ping pong ball at the end. "I could have chosen one that was much, much larger. I wouldn't give you anything more than I thought you could handle."

It was little assurance to Emmy. He must have thought very highly of her tolerance for abuse to give her so much. She felt the cool metal press against her asshole.

"Unnngh!" she moaned as the round tip burrowed past her sphincter and sank deep into her ass. He ran a chain from the end of the hook up to the loop on the back of her collar, adjusting it short enough that she needed to keep her back severely arched. Even then she could still feel the unyielding hook tugging at her ass.

"Alright," Robert said. "I think we're just about ready! I'll be riding up front, of course, but I brought the scrying mirrors so that I can keep an eye on you." He mounted one of the mirrors on the back of the wagon and tossed the other one around front, near the driver's bench. "Just one last thing so that you don't go falling behind."

He grabbed a fifteen foot length of rope and tied one end to a hitch on the back of the wagon and the other end to a loop on the front of the broad belt around Emmy's waist.

"Okay! Let's go!" He threw open the doors of the barn, jumped up in the driver's seat, and spurred the mule team into action.

Emmy watched for a second while the wagon pulled out into the street. Then she followed as the rope connecting her to the back lost its slack. Clip-clop! The noise of her steps surprised even her. The echoing sound of her pony boots on the cobblestones was accompanied by a cacophony of bells. After just a few steps out of the barn all eyes on the street were immediately upon her as everyone's attention was drawn to the din. Emmy froze. Somehow it hadn't occurred to her that she was to be paraded like this through the streets of Galehaven at the busiest time of the day.

Snap! The rope pulled taut and Emmy stumbled forward, nearly losing her balance on the precarious boots. The hook in her ass yanked hard against her collar. Clip-clop! Like it or not, she had no choice but to follow the wagon out onto the busy thoroughfare.

People hooted and jeered as they saw the provocatively clad young woman marching along. Emmy wished she could melt away into the cobblestones. She was never comfortable being the center of attention even in the best of circumstances, but this was a million times worse!

A crowd formed around and behind the wagon as it drove along, the rumor of the spectacle seemed to travel faster than the ponygirl herself. Her loud jangling bells heralded her arrival as they gently moved down the street at a walking pace. Men and women, young and old, the whole town turned out to see Emmy's bizzare, humiliating ordeal. Mothers covered the eyes of their children as she passed, old men made lewd gestures that Emmy could just see around her blinders. Then one bold ne'er-do-well darted up and pinched her ass.

Emmy squealed in surprise and made to shoo the man away, immediately regretting it as she yanked on the clamp latched securely on her clit. Robert, sensing that the crowd was perhaps getting a bit too rowdy, urged the mules into a trot. Emmy had no choice but to keep pace.

Clip-clop! Clip-clop! She quickened her steps as she followed the wagon. Her bouncing gait sent the weighted bells flailing. Her moans joined the chorus of noise coming from her body as her nipples were twisted and pulled this way and that. Her labia sagged and swayed with the heavy bells clattering into her thighs. Her tongue lolled back and forth. Drool poured from her open mouth. She shut her eyes against the pain and hurriedly followed the wagon wherever it went.

The crowds thinned as they ventured to the edge of the town. Emmy's feet were killing her as the cobblestones gave way to dirt roads and they entered the forest - only then did Robert slow their pace. She was exhausted. A sheen of sweat covered her body which baked inside the black leather jacket. At the same time the sun shone intensely on her bare tits and exposed lower body. She huffed and puffed as she trudged along, relishing the shade of the trees as they closed in around them.

The trails grew rougher as they got farther away from town. Now Emmy had to carefully watch each step lest she step in a rut or trip on a rock. A few times her caution led to the rope snapping taut and she was yanked recklessly forward, her sensitive areas paying the price as the clamps twisted and turned.

Clip-clop! She marched for what felt like hours, up winding switchbacks and through overgrown cart paths. Every step hurt more than the last. She wondered if she'd ever walk normally again after this.

Finally the wagon rolled out into a clearing with a small house built off to one side. Robert drew the wagon to a stop in front of the detached barn. Emmy sighed in relief. She considered dropping to the ground to rest, but feared what that maneuver would do to her aching hooked ass and her sore clamped clit. So instead she waited, relishing the gentle breeze across her skin.

Wait! A breeze, Emmy thought. Did I do that?

She looked at herself in the mirror - the gem on her collar was at its brightest. She watched the leaves twist in the treetops with growing hope, but a little doubting voice inside her head mocked her for taking credit for a cool breeze on a warm day.

Professor Pemberton had seen their arrival and came hurrying out of his house to meet the duo. "My stones! My stones!" he gleefully exclaimed, completely ignoring the bound, exposed, and distressed woman with the bright, glowing collar standing behind the wagon as he rushed to look in the back. Robert, in turn, ignored the professor, who demanded that the stones be unloaded right away. Instead he attended to Emmy.

He attacked her bondage with vigor, untying knots, loosening buckles, freeing clamps. Emmy twisted and moaned as circulation slowly returned to her extremities and sensitive bits. The pony boots were last. Emmy leaned against the wagon while Robert wrestled the tight footwear from her legs. When she was finally free of everything he took a long, loose dress and slipped it over her head.

"I'll unload your stones while you examine the artifact," Robert finally said to Pemberton. "Not a moment sooner."

"Fine," the professor pouted. "Come with me. I'll take a look."

Emmy pulled herself away from leaning on the wagon and made to follow the men, but upon taking her first step in hours free from the cruel pony boots, she stumbled. Her bare feet simply hurt too much to walk any farther on.

Robert saw Emmy stumble and caught her. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her into Professor Pemberton's house like a groom bringing his bride across the threshold. He set her down on a couch in the old man's study.

"So what is it? Some trinket or bauble your old granny left you?" the professor asked impatiently.

"Emmy, show him."

She pulled down the neckline of her dress, exposing the collar and its brightly glowing gem. The testy professor suddenly sobered as he actually saw the collar for the first time.

"The rumors were true," he said in awe. "The Cerulean Band!"

"You recognize it?" Emmy asked. "So you can help us?"

"Yes! Yes!" the old professor said, jumping up excitedly. "It's more beautiful than I ever imagined. This artifact hasn't been seen in nearly a thousand years, since around the time of Emperor Aurelion. These marks," he said running his fingers over the scratches scoring the metal of the collar, "do you know what these are?!"

"I assume they are evidence of other wearers attempts to remove the damned thing," Emmy replied.

"No! They are runes! It's an ancient dialect used among Cerulean priestesses."

"Can you translate them?" Emmy asked, her own excitement starting to match the ecstatic professor.

"I think so, but I need to find the right books." He dashed off to another room and started rifling through stacks of reference materials.

"Looks like we found the right place," Robert said.

"Hopefully he can tell us something about how the collar works," Emmy agreed.

It took the professor a few hours to find the tomes that he needed from amongst the mess of books and manuscripts that seemed to occupy a majority of every room in the house. Emmy took the time to rest from her ordeal. Robert used the time to unload the professor's stones from the wagon. Thankfully the collar now fully occupied the flighty old man's attention.

Emmy awoke the next morning to find Professor Pemberton leaning over her, magnifying glass in hand, his face inches from her face as he muttered to himself.

"What have you learned, professor?" she asked, startling the old man.

"I'm only just now identifying which runes are etched into the metal," he explained. "Translating them will take a few days."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Emmy offered.

"Yeah, you can keep your yap shut and let me focus on my-," he paused as he looked Emmy in the eye for the first time. "You... you look a lot like... you're Princess Esmeralda!" He threw himself to the floor and bowed. "My humblest apologies, Your Royal Highness! I didn't realize, er, I mean I didn't, er, I-"

"It's alright," Emmy said. "Get up. Continue your work."

"How is it you came to be wearing the Cerulean Band?" he asked.

"It's a long story, but right now what's important is learning as much about it as we can."

"Yes, of course."

---

For the next few days the professor locked himself away in his study while he worked to translate the writing. He only came out to occasionally eat or to take a closer look at some of the runes carved into the collar. He refused to divulge any details of what he learned until the translation was complete.

In the meantime Emmy occupied herself amongst the professor's many books. She was an avid reader of history and enjoyed many of the historical accounts she found scattered throughout the professor's home. Robert, meanwhile, was not content to stay around the house. He busied himself with chopping firewood and exercising and practicing his swordplay.

Finally the professor summoned them to his study.

"What can you tell us, sir?" Emmy asked as they settled in amongst balled up papers and stacks of opened books.

"I can tell you that studying ancient Cerulean makes my head hurt. This particular dialect was only used for ceremonial purposes. There are very few examples left of its usage. Beyond that, the language itself is very obtuse - they speak only in metaphors.

The collar is represented as something like a balance scale, with the wearer on one side and essentially the rest of the world on the other. One cannot be high without the other being low. The ideal wearer, as told by the artifact, is described as someone who can successfully sail in a stormy sea, someone who can crest the towering waves at just the right time. There are many other references that say much of the same thing - about the wearer shrouding themselves in darkness, then finding a spark of light.

The artifact itself seems to function as you described it to me. It is like a leaky jug - you fill it with the wearer's dismay but it will slowly drain over time. There were special warnings about what happens when the jug is completely empty or totally full, which I could not fully comprehend but I assume refer to the events you have seen since putting it on."

"Is there any explanation about how the collar was intended to be used? Or explanation of its purpose?" Emmy asked.

"No. The text reads like an instruction manual. It seems to assume that you already know why and when to put it on."

"What about instructions on how to take it off?" Robert asked.

The professor thought for a moment. "Yes. I'm sure there are instructions on how to remove the collar," the professor replied. Both Emmy and Robert perked up. "I assume that there are additional runes on the inside of the collar?" he asked.

"Yes. I saw them before I put the collar on," Emmy said.

"Classic Ceruleans," the professor said, shaking his head. "They were the kind of people who get a new gadget and immediately read the entire instruction manual from cover to cover before turning it on. It seems these ancients had a cruel sense of humor - the only way to know how to take it off is to read the instructions before you put it on."

Emmy and Robert slumped back in disappointment.

"If you ever do get the collar open, please send me a rubbing of the text. I would love to see that translated," he added.

"You and me both, Professor Pemberton," Emmy said. "Is there anything else you can tell us?"

"Not much more, I'm afraid. I have made a copy of my notes for you to review, in case you can tease out any details I may have missed. I wish you luck on your journey."

Robert and Emmy said their goodbyes and headed out to the wagon to return to the Ravenwing.

"Well, at least we have a few more details, but nothing really concrete to help us out," Robert said.

"Yeah," Emmy agreed. "We'll just have to keep exploring. We'll find the answers out there somewhere."

They reached the barn. Robert opened the doors and turned to Emmy. "Your dress, please," he said, holding out his hand.

"Oh," Emmy said. She'd spent the last few days so absorbed in her reading that she hadn't paid much attention to the charge on the collar. "Is it low?"

"Very low. If the professor hadn't finished his work today we would have had to do something anyway."

She pulled off her dress and handed it to him. He gave her the short leather jacket in exchange.

"Please don't make me march behind the cart again. It was so painful and humiliating," she pleaded. The last few days of quiet study had been a welcome respite from the chaos and the punishments she'd experienced. She was not at all looking forward to the burdens the collar required.

"I'm way ahead of you," Robert smiled as he helped guide her breasts through the holes on the front of the jacket and tightened the laces on the back. "There's plenty of room in the back of the wagon now. And I even found a pony for you to ride."

He guided her around behind the wagon and drew back the canvas covering the rear. Emmy peered in to see that the compartment was empty except for a three foot long triangular wooden beam supported several feet off the floor by four sturdy legs.

"Your chariot awaits," he said climbing up and offering his hand.

Emmy, understandably, was not in such a playful mood at that moment. She offered her leather-covered hand to him with a scowl and he pulled her up.

He began by bundling her long blond hair back into a ponytail then, perhaps to stifle any objections to what else he had in store, he brought a gag up to her lips. It was the same harness ring gag she had worn a few days before, only now the ring was occupied by a stubby inward-facing dildo. Emmy opened her mouth to object but immediately found it filled with the dildo as it slipped in past her lips. The tip hit her throat just as the ring settled in behind her teeth. Her choking and gagging caused her to squirm in Robert's arms but his hold on the gag never relented as he fastened it into place. When he let go she continued to struggle to control her gag reflex, alternating between bouts of retching and moments of teary-eyed control.

He waited a moment for her to calm down at least a little bit. Then he showed her what was in store for her next. "I found this amongst Thorne's things. I wasn't sure when you'd be ready for it, but I figured now is as good a time as any."

He held up a small metal bulb that was composed of four overlapping metal leaves with a thick metal bolt disappearing up into them. He inserted a flat metal key into the end of the bolt allowing it to be turned by hand. "It's called a pear," Robert explained. "I turn this key and..." Emmy watched in horror as the metal leaves slowly separated as the bolt twisted, going wider and wider and wider. He closed it back up.

He took advantage of Emmy's shock to spin her around and tip her over the wooden beam. Emmy felt the dull wooden peak press into her stomach. Then the cold touch of the lubricated pear against her anus.

"Nnngh! Nnngh!" She couldn't bring herself to just accept the inevitable. Her leather bound hands flailed wildly behind her back, swatting away Robert's attempts to penetrate her until he finally had to pause so that he could clip the rings at the tips of her hands to the loop on the back of her collar.

Now with nothing to stop him, Robert was able to ease the slender closed pear up inside her until her asshole closed around the narrow ringed base that held the bolt. "Unngh," Emmy moaned as the device settled into her ass. Then Robert began turning the key.

Slowly, slowly the leaves separated. She could feel the pear shift as each turn forced them wider and wider apart. He kept turning the key and the pear kept growing. The pressure increased more and more. Her moans grew more plaintive. He kept turning. He didn't stop until her cries reached just the right level of painful desperation. Then he removed the key from the bolt, slipped it in his pocket, and pulled her upright.

They'd only just begun but already Emmy was miserable. She continued to battle her gag reflex as the dildo gag tickled her throat while at the same time her insides twisted themselves into knots trying to accommodate the bulbous pear stretching her ass.

Now Robert took two wooden blocks, six inches long and two inches on each side, and set one up on end on either side of the wooden pony. "Allow me to help you up," he offered. Emmy was helpless to resist as he lifted her up over the triangular peak with one leg on each side. He allowed her feet time to seek out the blocks before setting her down. Standing up on her toes, her pussy easily cleared the wooden top by an inch or so, but realizing how unsteady she was balancing atop the blocks, she decided to lower herself down to the wooden ridge to help stabilize her position.

Clunk! Emmy reeled as the tip of the bolt on the pear thumped into the hard wooden ridge sending a shockwave of pain to her insides. She bounced up onto her toes at once. Realizing now that she'd have to tip her body forward to rest upon the pony, she eased down again. Leaning forward, she could feel as the narrow wooden beam nestled between her pussy lips. She sank lower, feeling the pressure increase as her cunt was smashed between her pelvis and the hard wood. The forward angle she had to keep meant she was practically sitting on her clit. Second guessing her decision to rest on the ridge, she eased herself up so that she just barely touched the peak.

Once she had found a stable position Robert kneeled down and affixed a cuff to each of her ankles then locked a spreader bar between them. There would be no way off the pony until he allowed it.

This time when Robert stood up to admire his work Emmy found his gaze lingering on her soft, round tits - an ominous feeling rose in her stomach. Sure enough, a moment later a pair of cruel nipple clamps materialized in his hands. The bite of the first clamp on her sensitive nipple left her weak in the knees. "Unnngh," she groaned as she sank down onto the pony. Her pussy flared with pain and she quickly bounced back up with regret. The second clamp left her whole body trembling. Her studied focus on controlling her gag reflex broke and the resulting heaves and retches threatened to upset the careful balance she was trying to maintain.

To Emmy's great relief, once the nipple clamps were in place Robert unhooked the clip that held her hands trapped high up behind her back. Knowing that her mittened hands would be useless at pinching open the painful clamps, and that Robert wouldn't allow it anyway, Emmy quickly brought her hands in front of her and used them to push herself up off of the beam and steady herself.

Her relief was short-lived, however. Robert used a step stool to run a pair of long, thin cords through an overhead ring attached to one of the ribs that held up the canvas cover for the wagon. He pulled one rope to either side of Emmy, again passing it through a ring directly to either side of his captive. Now he took the dangling end of each cord and tied it to a nipple clamp. Emmy grunted and winced as each clamp was lifted and twisted and turned while he tied his knot. Now with her nipples bound to the cords running directly above her he grabbed the other end of one from where it dangled on the right side of the wagon and brought it towards Emmy. He then wrestled her right hand away from the peak of the beam and guided it out towards the ring. There, he threaded the end of the cord through the ring on the tip of her fingers and adjusted the length until Emmy's arm was held outstretched from her body, horizontal to the ground, and tied off to the cord.

When he let go of her hand, her arm sagged, pulling the cord which translated into an immediate tug on its associated nipple. Emmy quickly righted herself, extending her arm out all the way to allow as much slack as possible on the cord to spare her poor nipple. This left her leaning to her right, which Robert swiftly remedied by tying her left hand in a similar manner. Now Emmy was held upright with her arms outstretched, there was just enough slack in each cord that the clamps were just barely lifted from the neutral position they'd rest in if they weren't tied. Though, obviously, leaning too far towards one side or the other would mean a sharp pull on one of the clamps. Robert hoped this would encourage Emmy to maintain a good balance atop the pony or, failing that, provide a (very painful) means of righting herself should she find herself tipping.

"Alright, I think we're ready to go," Robert declared. Emmy looked at him with watering eyes and groaned.

"What?" Robert teased. "Not happy with what I've prepared for you? Perhaps some weights added to your hands? Or maybe a nice tight hood? Or should I remove the wagon cover so that Galehaven can see the return of their princess?"

Emmy shook her head and muted her complaints. Robert left to hitch up the mules to the front of the wagon leaving Emmy to settle in. Already her feet were beginning to ache from standing atop the narrow blocks. She could feel the wooden supports wobble beneath her unsteady toes as she pressed most of her weight down upon them. Gradually that burden began to shift more and more to her pussy as her feet tired. The growing pressure of the wooden pony against her poor cunt began as a dull ache and advanced from there. Meanwhile the persistent push of the pear on her insides provided a constant background discomfort that threatened to jump to the foreground if she rocked back just a little too far.

Then there was the growing fatigue in her outstretched arms. She'd only been holding them out for a few minutes but already she could feel her muscles tiring. As her hands dropped, her tits took up the burden. The clamps pulled and twisted as the cords drew taut and Emmy winced in pain.

Eventually Robert finished hitching up the mules. He threw open the doors to the barn and took up his seat on the bench at the front of the wagon. He glanced in the mirror he had rigged up to allow him to keep an eye on his unhappy passenger. Emmy's eyes were shut, her mind focusing on finding the least stressful stance to hold herself up in. A trail of drool leaked down her chin, landing on the peak of the pony. He felt something stir inside him.

He couldn't really explain what he found so appealing about a beautiful woman in distress, but it spoke to him at a raw, primal level. He'd always been tongue-tied around women, but seeing one bound, helpless, vulnerable - it changed everything. It gave him such a thrill to know that she was in his power completely. The fact that it was a woman he'd been pining after for years, though, brought so many conflicting feelings. How could he hurt someone he cared so deeply for? Her cries of pain tore at his soul while at the same time they fueled his lust. Was he a monster for feeling this way? He could feel the conflict within Emmy as well - the way her body betrayed her feelings, showing arousal from her torment, it clearly disturbed her to react that way, but Robert chose to see it as a subtle invitation from her own hidden desires.

The trust Emmy gave him was an awesome responsibility - one that made him feel even closer to her. He held her fate in his hands, believing in him to do what's right. He had no intention of betraying that trust. He'd thought so many times about how good it'd feel to have his way with his helpless, vulnerable captive, but that was a line he was unwilling to cross. No matter what else he did, he would respect that boundary. They had a mission to focus on. His own desires could wait.

Robert broke out of his pensive stare and took up the reins. He urged the mules on and the wagon surged forward. Emmy, standing relatively serenely in the back, was jostled by the sudden movement. Her toes shifted back from their perch upon the unsteady blocks and her body sank down onto the hard ridge of the pony as she rocked backward. Thunk! The base of the pear thumped into the board sending a shockwave reverberating through her body. Her arms reflexively pulled towards her body and she was rewarded with a harsh yank on her nipples as a result. Her shriek was cut off by a fit of coughs and gags as the dildo in her mouth jabbed at her throat.

The wagon rolled steadily out of the barn and Robert steered it to the trail that would lead them back to Galehaven. This wagon was built for cargo and its suspension was non-existent - every rut, every bump, every stone they encountered jostled the entire vehicle - and everyone in it. Emmy held on for dear life, squeezing the pony with her thighs to try and steady herself, gripping the blocks with her toes to keep from falling and, when absolutely necessary, using her arms to steady herself with the cruel pull of the clamps on her nipples. The strength and stamina of legs waxed and waned and she found herself bobbing up and down on the wooden beam, cruelly alternating between the ache of her feet and the ache in her cunt.

Robert drove on listening to the cries and wails of his passenger as they went. They wound back and forth down the switchbacks they'd traversed just days earlier, through forests and fields. He found himself wondering whether Emmy now would have preferred to march behind the wagon as a ponygirl rather than traveling the way she was. In his distraction he failed to notice the large rock in the trail up ahead. The wagon was moving at a decent pace as they came down out of the valley that the professor called home and when the wooden wagon wheel met the wedge-shaped stone, they had just enough momentum to carry them up onto the rock. They rolled over the top of it then dropped suddenly off its sheer back. The wagon shuddered from the hard drop. The axles creaked, the mules broke their gait and, in the back of the wagon, Emmy screamed.

The hard drop had knocked the blocks out from under her feet. The resulting fall sent her entire weight crashing down onto the wooden pony. Her feet scrambled uselessly for the supports that were no longer there, desperate for some way, any way, to relieve her poor pussy from the full agony of the pony. The nipple clamps tore viciously at her tits as she flailed unsteadily from side to side. The anal pear thunked into the ridge again and again in her bucking panic to find relief. The best she could do was try to find an equilibrium.

She steadied herself with her body pitched slightly forward, her clit pinched painfully beneath her pelvis along with the rest of her pussy. Her thighs trembled as she used them to try and hold herself in position. But there was now no longer any means for her to lift her weight from the pony.

The encounter with the rock and Emmy's resulting spectacle was nearly enough to send the wagon rumbling off the trail and into the nearby bushes. Robert sprang into action, quickly turning the wagon back onto the trail and righting their course. He gazed into his mirror to see Emmy's face a mask of pain and concentration as she came to terms with this cruel new stage of her punishment - sweat poured down her trembling body as she struggled. The gem on her collar looked like it was getting brighter by the second.

He had expected the blocks to slip out from under her feet at some point. He figured the danger of falling fully onto the pony would keep her mind focused and distract her from some of the pain as they traveled. It was always better, in his opinion at least, to allow his captive some freedom of movement to choose her own suffering or to give her something to focus on while the session went on. Merely wallowing in pain with no chance of escape or relief just wasn't very sporting in his opinion. Nevertheless, he felt a little guilty to see Emmy suffer so greatly, and due to his own poor driving rather than her failure. Still, he had decided not to stop and put her up on the blocks again. He couldn't allow her to believe that he'd cut a punishment short if she cried out as desperately as she did now. She was a tough girl - he had faith that she could handle it, besides they were nearly back to town.

The wagon rolled on. Emmy's determined grunts and screams competed with the crunch of the wheels against the ground and the clatter of the mules' hooves as they proceeded. To Emmy's benefit, the trail smoothed out as they got closer to their destination. They rounded a bend in the road that took them out of the shadow of the tall crag that towered over the entrance to the professor's valley and Robert was nearly knocked out of his bench by a strong gust of wind that suddenly buffeted the wagon. He leaned into the wind and urged the mules on. The flapping of the canvas wagon cover added to din trying to compete with Emmy's cries of pain.

As they drove along now Robert started seeing other traffic on the road, something that had been lacking days earlier when they had left Galehaven. Wagons loaded full of unmilled grain raced out from the town at a frenetic pace, swerving around the wagons returning to town laden with fresh flour for the markets. Robert stared in wonder. Had the collar - had Emmy - restored the robust winds that this region counted upon?

The route back to the airship would take them through the town itself. Robert looked back at Emmy to see how she was fairing. The pretty blonde was red in the face, tears rolled down her cheeks as her pussy rocked back and forth atop the wooden pony. She had no way to lift her weight from the cruel ridge that parted her pussy. The best she could do now was shift a little bit forward or backward to try and focus the pressure on a different part of her crushed cunt. Her toned thighs trembled with the effort to hold her body still, cushioning against the bumps and bounces as the wagon rattled along, rocking now not only from the obstacles in the road but also from the steady gusts that slammed into the canvas covering like a ship at sea. Robert was starting to second guess whether or not Emmy could withstand this next part of their trip. He decided to press on and turned the wagon onto the main drag through Galehaven - the cobblestoned main street that lead through town.

The wheels clattered up onto the cobbles. The wagon shuddered and bounced more vigorously than ever. Robert could feel his teeth chattering as they jostled along the avenue. In the back Emmy's screams competed with the noise of the town as it went about its business. Up and down, up and down, rattle , rattle, rattle - she bounced atop the wooden pony, her pussy being pounded like a jackhammer. Her feet kicked, her hands twisted and shifted, she threw her head from side to side as they rumbled along. A few people they passed looked over at the wagon as Emmy's frantic gagged screams outcompeted the sound of the rest of the traffic.

The cobbled stretch thankfully only lasted a few blocks before Robert turned off to the road that would lead them back to the Ravenwing. In the back, Emmy was completely spent. She moaned continuously, slumped forward and barely able to keep herself upright.

Robert drove up alongside the airship and quickly darted into the back of the wagon to free Emmy from her bondage. She was limp in his arms as he wrapped a robe around her and carried her up onto the ship.

"You're finally back," the wagoneer exclaimed upon seeing them. "I need my wagon right away," he insisted. Robert ignored the man until he had safely stowed Emmy away in her quarters.

"I thought you were out of the courier business," Robert finally replied as he dug the man's payment out of his coin purse.

"Haven't you seen? The winds are back! Traders are desperate to get their grain out to the mills. Millers are desperate to get their flour out to the markets. No one knows how long this will last, they're paying double the usual rates to get expedited delivery," the wagoneer explained breathlessly.

Robert flipped the man his gold piece and the wagoneer took off. He returned below deck to check on Emmy. He'd tell her what she had accomplished once she had rested. Until then, it was time to take off. They had more towns to visit and more to learn about the collar. It was reassuring to see real, tangible results from their adventures - he just hoped the price his companion was paying was sustainable, and worth it.