Martyr's Bargain

Emmy groaned as the Ravenwing banked around a cloud, the bulbous metal hook in her ass was not huge, but large enough that it was impossible to ignore. Each and every movement of the ship tugged and pulled at it courtesy of the taut leather strap connecting it to the back of her elaborate harness gag, arching her back and enforcing the strict hogtie that suspended her from the ship's rigging.

That wasn't the only way she noticed each and every minor change in wind or direction either. No, the weights swinging from her clamped nipples and clit, heavy enough to be uncomfortable at the best of times, felt even worse as they swung and swayed constantly with the movement of the nimble airship.

Her jaw ached from the large gag that had parted her lips since early that morning. A cramp ran up her thigh - she could feel her muscles twitching as she resisted flexing her leg, with each of her big toes tied off to a long, blond braid it only served to increase the strain on her aching neck. Her arms had been twisted back into a reverse prayer and tied off on a loop at the back of her collar.

The Ravenwing parted the billowing clouds, emerging above a dingy, dreary city - Cloudspire. From her vantage near the bow of the ship Emmy could see the crumbling chimneys, the trash in the streets, and the beggar's camp sprawling against the derelict city wall. A few small barges plied the polluted river that not so much flowed as oozed through the middle of the city.

"It looks like they could use our help," Sir Robert said, stalking up behind Emmy.

"Unnngh," Emmy protested as he idly played with one of the weights dangling from her nipples. His fingers danced their way down between her legs, exploring the folds of her pussy. He withdrew his fingers, wet with her arousal, and showed them to Emmy, who couldn't help but blush.

"I see you enjoyed the flight," he chuckled. "I hope not too much," he added.

After Jackie had left, Robert and Emmy made straight for Cloudspire and their foreboding meetup with Thorne. They wanted to be ready for anything and decided to ensure that the collar was as charged as possible beforehand. Strangely, Emmy actually found herself looking forward to her punishment that morning. Maybe it was something that Jackie had said, or perhaps something in the concoctions she'd offered her, but Emmy finally felt unburdened by her kink. Of course she dreaded the pain, the discomfort, the helplessness, but she was excited by it too and the anticipation sent a thrill through her body. She came to see the arousal caused by their sessions not just as something to be ashamed of, but as a tool she could use to help activate the power of the collar more effectively.

Robert stooped down and looked at the gem affixed to the front of her collar. It glowed a steady pale blue. "Almost fully charged," he said. "We should bring you down before we land so no one sees you."

Emmy breathed a sigh of relief, eager for her ordeal to be over for now. She impatiently eyed the lever that would lower her bound body to the deck and set her free. Robert's fingers wrapped around the handle. He paused.

"Then again, it couldn't hurt to do a little more. I do think you're having a bit too much fun up there," he said with a smirk, removing his hand from the lever.

"Unngh! Unnngh!" Emmy begged. Her squirming pleas served only to tug on the hook in her ass and send her weighted clamps swinging.

"Oh, are your bonds too loose? Let me fix that for you," Robert offered with a sinister grin. He grabbed the strap that connected the ass hook to her gag and pulled it a notch tighter. Emmy squealed as her back was forced into an even more severe arch. Robert stepped back and threw a large tarp over Emmy's naked body to conceal her from prying eyes.

"We'll be landed in Cloudspire in fifteen minutes," he called back as he walked to the helm. The ship pitched forward and they descended through the clouds.

---

Thankfully Robert freed Emmy before they reached their final destination. He steered the Ravenwing toward the imposing Castle Grayrock, perched high up on the narrow stony spire that overlooked the sprawling city. Unlike most of the smaller towns and cities they'd visited, the castle had a dedicated tower to receive airships visiting from all around the kingdom. Attendants grabbed the lines that Robert tossed over the side as he pulled up along the skydock.

Emmy was freshening up below. She stared at her naked body in the mirror as she labored to transform herself from bondage slut back to princess. Her nipples were puffy, bruised, and swollen. Rope marks marred her skin all up and down her body. And her neglected pussy still blushed with the lingering memories of her recent helplessness. She wiped the dried tears from her cheeks and applied makeup to her already beautiful features.

She was just emerging above deck when the gangplank touched down and Baron Silas Shademark himself, Lord of Cloudspire, was there to meet them as they disembarked.

"Princess Esmeralda, Sir Robert! Welcome to my city!" the portly baron bellowed, throwing his rich, heavy robes aside to shake Robert's hand and kiss Emmy's cheek. "We've been expecting you. Sir Thorne has filled me in on your mission. We have much to discuss. Allow my men to tend to your ship, you will room in my finest suites while you stay with me. We shall prepare a grand feast in your honor this evening. I'm sure you've had little opportunity for grand meals and comfortable lodgings in your travels. We're eager to hear of what you've learned, but for now, rest up and unwind. My steward, Bertrand, will see to your every need."

"Thank you, Baron Shademark. We certainly appreciate your hospitality. I'd like to talk to Sir Thorne right away if I may," Robert said.

"I'm afraid Sir Thorne is away on an important errand at the moment, but he is expected to be back this evening. I'll have him come meet you if he arrives any sooner." The baron looked up at the dark clouds starting to gather around his castle. "It looks like a storm is brewing. You'd best come inside before the rain starts. It can be quite unsafe out here when the weather is foul."

Robert and Emmy were shown to their rooms. Emmy took advantage of the opportunity to relax in a hot bath while Robert allowed himself the luxury of a massage from the baron's personal masseuse. The castle was opulently decorated. The baron had spared no expense to flaunt the tremendous wealth he'd accrued as lord of the kingdom's largest city. The shrewd noble had been born in a backwater hamlet and had wheeled and dealed his way to the upper echelons of power, holding great sway over this region of the kingdom.

Despite the generous hospitality, both Emmy and Robert kept up their guard. It was no secret that Baron Shademark was no friend of Emmy's father, the king. At best, he tolerated him, so long as the king kept out of his affairs. But who knew what else the powerful man was up to behind closed doors? Those sorts of secretive conspiracies were beyond the scope of Robert's knowledge and responsibility. They, instead, lay squarely in the domain of men like Thorne, the king's eyes and ears in the underworld of schemes and plots that threatened the kingdom at every turn.

Robert wasn't at all surprised that Thorne didn't find him before dinner. He and Emmy only saw him when they were summoned to the baron's dining room later that evening. They were shocked to find that their welcome banquet was a much more intimate affair than they'd been expecting. The baron had dismissed most of his retinue so that only he, his steward, and Thorne were present.

Robert and Emmy joined them and soon they were plied with plate after plate of the finest foods the region could produce. Both of the guests eschewed the expensive wines they were offered, hoping to keep their wits about them, drinking sweet fruit juices instead.

The baron peppered Robert and Emmy with so many questions about their adventures, often asking questions faster than either of them could answer. Throughout the meal Thorne kept a neutral expression, making it difficult to determine how he felt about being reunited with his estranged associates. Bertrand the steward, on the other hand, could not take his eyes off of Emmy's collar. His leering gaze made Emmy uncomfortable. As the meal winded down the servants were dismissed but the talk continued. Emmy, growing tired of explaining every detail of what they'd done for the second time, shifted the conversation to Thorne.

"So, tell me, Sir Thorne, what have you learned in these past few months we've been apart?" she asked.

Thorne looked to the baron, who gave Thorne a slight nod before he answered. "Quite a bit actually," Thorne crowed. "We have discovered research that claims to be able to focus the energy of the collar to a specific purpose. And we have learned a good deal about how the energy is stored in the gem of the collar. There are several experiments which could be of great use that we are eager to try out."

Emmy was impressed as Thorne explained in detail some of the theories he had gathered. She'd feared that the scorned man would have abandoned his duties and accomplished nothing in their absence. "Anything else?"

"Yes," Thorne replied. "As it happens Bertrand is a very accomplished historian and has rediscovered some reports of the collar that were lost to the ages. Tell me, princess, are you familiar with the history of Emperor Aurelion the Great?"

"Of course," Emmy replied. "They teach his story to every schoolchild in the kingdom. He was ruler of a small province who, through his generosity and virtue and cunning, managed to unite all the peoples of this land into one nation. For thirty years he presided over a golden age that has never since been rivaled until a dormant volcano beside his capital violently erupted and destroyed the entire province and its people, Aurelion included."

"Yes," Bertrand chimed in, "that is the tale that Aurelion's supporters wanted everyone to believe. The truth, as is always the case, has much more nuance. You see, Aurelion was the leader of a secret Cerulean sect and was the keeper of powerful arcane knowledge. It's not clear whether he created the collar you now wear or if he merely inherited it. But there is no doubt that he put it to significant use.

We know that the collar chooses its wearer and that it must be put on willingly. Aurelion took an interest in a young priestess in his sect who he thought would make a viable candidate. He filled her head with plans for how they could cure all the ills of the world. He told her she would be his queen and rule by his side as they united the squabbling kingdoms that dotted the land. The girl was enthralled. She eagerly put on the collar for the charismatic man. Her name was Atalia."

"That was the name of Aurelion's capital," Emmy interrupted, matter-of-factly. "But that was not the name of his queen."

"Indeed," Bertrand continued. "Once the girl put the collar on, Aurelion showed his true nature. He had long studied how to control the collar's power and now he used it to bring prosperity and wealth to his small kingdom. After securing his own lands his eyes turned outward. No one could oppose him while he had the collar's magic behind him. His foes and rivals suffered misfortune and calamity while Aurelion's holdings expanded more and more, growing into an unstoppable force.

As for Atalia, she was never far from Aurelion. She spent her days living in the emperor's dungeon or traveling with his luggage. Aurelion squeezed every last advantage he could from the collar and its wearer. The girl was in constant distress, but the collar preserved her health and her sanity for decades.

Very few in his inner circle knew about the secret to Aurelion's success. But the collar could not stop the march of time. Aurelion was getting older and began to look to his legacy. He decided to bring his heir, Argentus, in on the secret so that he might continue the emperor's vision after his death.

But Argentus was appalled when he found out the price of his father's success. One night he snuck into the dungeon and stole Atalia away. The pair went into hiding. Aurelion flew into a rage when he found out that he'd lost the collar. He scoured the empire for his missing son and his prized martyr.

Argentus and Atalia eluded discovery. Argentus was determined that no harm would ever befall Atalia again. Of course we all know that that is not how the collar works. With no charge in the gem, ruin followed the pair wherever they went. They weathered the storms and the plagues and the riots that seemed to spring up all around them until they'd decided that, for the sake of the people, they needed to hide away from society.

They trekked up to the highest peak in the harsh mountains overlooking Aurelion's capital, a city which bore Atalia's name as a twisted tribute to the perpetually suffering woman. It was at the place where they eventually made their home that one day the earth suddenly opened up, a pent up volcanic explosion - the most powerful in a millennium - obliterated the mountain, destroying the city and surrounding areas in an instant, taking Aurelion and his empire down with it. The collar was never seen again - until now."

"Amazing," Emmy said, in awe of the tale.

"Indeed," Baron Shademark agreed. "There are many lessons to learned from the past. Did you know that I hail from the same small hamlet where Aurelion got his start? I see many parallels between the great emperor and I."

"How do you mean?" Emmy asked. Perhaps it was all the rich food or Bertrand's tale of Atalia and the collar, but she was beginning to feel unwell.

"Isn't it obvious?" the baron replied. "A brilliant and ambitious backwater noble who works his way to the upper echelons of society. Of course, Aurelion had tremendous help from the collar... but now so do I."

"Now wait just a minute," Robert said, though his words were slurred and he was having difficulty focusing his eyes on anything.

"Did you know that Bertrand has been researching the collar for his entire life?" the baron continued unabated. "For years he chased down every rumor, every folktale, painstakingly sifting through the lies and the falsehoods. With my help he convinced the High Council to throw their resources into finding the collar after all of my leads came up cold."

Robert abruptly pushed back his chair and stood unsteadily to his feet.

"Can you believe our utter astonishment when they actually found it?! Atalia's collar - the artifact of legend! As soon as I heard I contacted my most faithful insider in the court to retrieve it for me," he glanced over to Thorne. "Unfortunately, some foolish princess got to it first and put it on. I'd thought that my chance to seize the most powerful tool in all of history had slipped through my fingers. But now here it is, delivered right to my doorstep just as Sir Thorne promised!"

Robert's hand went to his hip, drawing his sword. The cold steel gleamed menacingly in the bright lights of the hall. Robert narrowed his eyes. His blade wavered. "Thorne, you rat!" he seethed, then he collapsed unconscious onto the heavy oak dining table. His sword clattered noisily to the floor.

"And now, my princess, we come to the next part of your visit, which, I'm sorry to inform you, will be decidedly less comfortable and much, much longer than what you anticipated," the baron said with a sinister grin.

Emmy pushed back her chair to flee but she, too, was succumbing to the effects of whatever it was they'd been given. She managed only to climb to her feet before her body swooned and she fainted into Thorne's waiting arms.

---

Emmy was awakened hours later by a bucket of ice cold water poured over her head. She was naked, kneeling in a dark torch-lit dungeon somewhere deep in the bowels of Castle Grayrock. A heavy five foot long wooden beam ran across the back of her shoulders. Her arms had been outstretched along the length of the beam and bound to it by thin cord that wrapped from her wrists to her shoulders on each side. A notch in the middle of the beam neatly accommodated her collar so that the timber fit snug against her body. A chain dropped from the ceiling to a ring on the back of the beam keeping Emmy from sagging any lower than the kneeling position she was in now.

Emmy coughed and shivered as the fog of unconsciousness cleared away from her. She looked up to see Thorne, the baron, and his steward looking expectantly at her.

"Welcome to your new home, Your Highness," the baron smiled. "Shall we explore the various amenities it has to offer? I had it outfitted especially for you." He turned to his steward. "Bertrand, why don't you help the princess up?"

The tall, lanky steward went to the wall and hauled on a chain. There was the clattering of the links running through a pulley and Emmy felt herself rising via the beam that she was bound to. She staggered to her feet, following the pull on her upper body. He didn't stop pulling until she was unable to stand flat-footed, with her head tipped forward by the angle of the beam.

"As you can see, we have everything we need to make the most of your collar's powers."

Thorne guided the beam with his hand in a slow three hundred and sixty degree spin so that Emmy could see all that the spacious dungeon had to offer. She was appalled as she took it all in - cages, racks, and frames of all shapes and sizes; whips, canes, floggers, paddles, clamps, hoods, gags, ropes, and shackles. In one corner, seemingly out of place, was a large king-sized bed with silk sheets and pillows, but at each corner of the bed laid a length of chain with a shiny new metal cuff on the end. Next to that was a scholar's desk, stacked with books.

"You should be proud," the baron taunted her. "You will play an integral part in the birth of my new empire. Sure, your contributions won't make it into the history books, but you'll be right at my side as I bring the world into a new golden age!"

"I'll never help you!" Emmy said defiantly. "You won't get away with this! My father-"

"Your father," the baron interrupted, "will be the first obstacle in my path to fall. I have already given the orders to marshall my forces. In a few weeks time your father will find himself squeezed between my well-funded barbarian friends on one side and my soon-to-be invincible army on the other." He leaned in close and brushed her cheek. "But now it's time for you to do your part and give us the good fortune we need to assure our victory."

Emmy recoiled away from his touch and spat in his face. "Fuck you! You're insane! You will be stopped!"

The baron slapped Emmy across the face. "Gag her!" he ordered, wiping her saliva from his cheek. Bertrand hurried to shove a large ball gag into Emmy's mouth. "Who is going to stop me? Your boyfriend? He'll be out of the picture soon enough. In a few days time your airship will sail away and no one will ever remember you were here - certainly not before anybody can do anything about it, at least."

His eyes roamed down to her chest, where they lingered on her firm, round tits. "How fortunate we are to have such an attractive collar bearer," he muttered to himself. In a flash of rage Emmy saw an opening in the baron's distraction. She planted her feet onto the rough stone floor and twisted her upper body. The heavy beam pivoted on the end of its chain and Emmy steered it squarely into the baron's jaw. Thunk! The baron reeled as the heavy beam crashed across his face. He staggered backward with blood pouring down his lip. His hand went to his mouth and removed a tooth that had been knocked loose.

"You stupid cunt!" he blubbered. "Bertrand! Fetch my physician!" He hurried to the solid wooden door and pulled it open. "Thorne, deal with this insolent bitch!" Then he left with his steward in tow.

"That wasn't very smart," Thorne admonished her. Emmy threw him a defiant glare. He strolled to the wall and grabbed the chain holding Emmy to the ceiling. "I think you'll find that we can make things very unpleasant for you here." He hauled on the chain. Emmy groaned as her feet lifted free from the floor and she was left hanging from the thin cords wrapping around her arms.

Thorne approached and she kicked her dangling feet at him. "Tsk, tsk," he chided her. He grabbed a flailing ankle and locked it in a steel cuff that was chained to the floor, then he secured her other ankle to another cuff a few feet away. He returned to the wall and yanked on the chain to raise Emmy higher. She moaned as her body stretched tight between the cuffs digging into her ankles and the beam lifting her shoulders.

Now when Thorne advanced on her she could hardly move. He reached between her parted thighs and violated her pussy with his rough fingers. Emmy growled and cussed at him from behind her gag.

"What's the matter? You don't like me? We're going to be spending a lot of time together soon. Maybe a nice gift will change your attitude towards me? The baron has fashioned you a beautiful set of rings." Emmy's eyes glanced at her hands, which were starting to color a light shade of purple from her tight suspension. Thorne smirked. "Oh, they're not for your fingers." He reached up and snatched her nipples with both hands, pulling and twisting and pinching with all his might.

Emmy screamed.

---

Robert awoke with a splitting headache in a tiny cell. The only source of light was from the flashes of lightning that flickered in through the tiny hole in the wall that passed for a window.

"Emmy! Where's Emmy?!" he immediately asked himself. What happened at the end of the treacherous dinner suddenly came flooding back to him. He jumped to his feet and pounded on the thick wooden door of his cell. "Shademark! Thorne! Release me you cowards!" He beat on the door with his fists until they were bruised and bloodied, screaming himself hoarse as he did so. But no one came.

As he collapsed to the floor in defeat he could just barely make out a sound between rumbles of thunder. It was the sound of screaming.

---

When Emmy regained consciousness this time she was hanging by her ankles from the ceiling of the dungeon. Everywhere ached, but a few points in particular were worse than others. Her nipples now sported a matching set of rings made of adamantine steel which, Thorne assured her, could never be removed once they were fixed in place. Thorne was focused, he was methodical, he was malicious - the piercing process was excruciating and her swollen nipples still throbbed in pain hours later. But those piercings were nothing compared to what she experienced getting the new ring that now adorned her clit. She'd nearly dislocated her shoulders thrashing about when the sharp needle touched that most nerve-rich area.

Upon completion of that horrendous deed, Thorne delightedly noticed that the gem on Emmy's collar now shined with a bright, steady glow and that her pussy was dripping wet. He decided then that he'd be the first among his fellow conspirators to harness the collar's powerful magic for their cause.

He freed Emmy from the wooden beam and dragged her over to the silken bed. Emmy was too weak to resist as he shackled her face-up in a spread-eagle position. Her gag remained planted between her teeth.

Thorne disrobed and stood triumphant over her naked body. "You've had your suffering, princess, now you get your reward," he boasted as he wagged his hard cock before her.

Emmy grunted as he mounted her, plowing his dick bruskly into her newly ringed pussy. She winced as he pressed against the sore piercing. Undeterred by her wails, Thorne carried on. The scoundrel was a familiar face at brothels in every city of the kingdom and he prided himself on his prowess with the female body.

But Emmy wasn't having it. Maybe it was the tonics Jackie gave her, maybe it was the direness of her situation or the gravity of what her future held but, for once, Emmy's mind and body were in total agreement and they both agreed that Thorne would not get his way.

She could sense the growing frustration from the rogue knight as he gave her his best moves. His hot, sweaty body rocked and flexed as he sought to bring Emmy to orgasm. But after twenty minutes he was forced to admit defeat. His frustration turned to anger as he took Emmy's refusal as a personal affront to his manhood.

"Very well," he snarled. "If you won't scream in pleasure, then you will scream in pain!"

Her small victory was almost worth the savage whipping he subjected her to thereafter. In a rage he dragged her from the bed and bound her ankles together before hoisting her to the ceiling by them. Her wrists were tethered together on the floor beneath her. She swayed and screamed as he laid into her with the cruelest whips the dungeon had to offer until, after countless agonizing strokes, she had mercifully passed out.

Now she stirred as every ache in her body reasserted itself. Even the restorative powers of the collar were not enough to keep pace with the abuse she was accumulating. Her head swam with fear and confusion and malaise.

She heard voices outside the door to the dungeon. It opened and in walked Baron Shademark followed by Sir Thorne and his steward, who was pushing in a wooden crate on a wheeled hand truck. The baron sported a bandage on his cheek and a split lip. He glared at Emmy for a moment before speaking.

"Sir Thorne tells me your obstinance remains unabated," he said, his words slightly slurred by his injured mouth. "You must understand that you will cooperate, one way or another."

While he spoke, Bertrand began arranging things around the dungeon. He arrayed several oddly shaped crystals in a circle around the crate. He lit sweet smelling candles and scattered them around the room. Then he opened a case of black stones etched with runes resembling the 'scratches' on Emmy's collar. He selected a few and set them aside.

"We are ready, my lord," he finally said.

"Excellent! You may begin," he replied, then turned back to Emmy. "As a student of history I thought you would appreciate this," he said, tapping the unopened crate that Bertrand had brought in. "It is an exact replica of the traveling case that Aurelion kept Atalia in when he went on campaign. You'll be spending a good deal of time in it soon, so it's better that you get a taste of it now."

Emmy regarded the wooden box with horror. It was hardly big enough to fit a bag of laundry, it seemed impossible to her that a person could be squeezed inside!

The men got right to work. While Emmy remained dangling by her ankles, Bertrand gathered up her long blond hair and stuffed it neatly into the thick leather hood that he fitted over her head. Emmy flailed and screamed. The ball gag that had filled her mouth since she'd spat at the baron remained, she felt the straps that held it in place press against her cheeks as the hood was laced tighter and tighter and tighter until it fit her like a second skin. There were no eyeholes to see out of. The only openings were two small slits beneath her nose to allow her panicked breathing to whistle through.

Thorne and the baron, meanwhile, attended to her battered breasts. The baron hooked a finger through each of her new nipple rings and used them to pull her tits away from her chest. Emmy cried out and squirmed as he pulled until the slack from her chained wrists and ankles was gone and her body flexed towards the baron by her stretched nipples. The distended shape of her tits allowed Thorne to loop a length of coarse rope around each breast at the very base of each, then, working outwards from there he wrapped each tit again and again, laying each twist of the rope down next to the previous as he went. Emmy could feel her breasts squeezed as the tight cinch pressed more and more of her flesh into a smaller and smaller volume so that even when the baron released her nipple rings, her tits remained sticking straight out. The part of her fleshy mounds that had escaped the binding of the ropes now faded to a deep purple color, the skin stretched tight as a drum. The baron flicked her nipples with his fingernails, eliciting a fresh round of wailing.

These screams were soon quieted by a strict corset fitted around her waist. Emmy felt her breath pressed out of her as laces were drawn tighter and tighter and tighter.

Now her wrists were freed from their shackles and twisted around behind her into a reverse prayer that was held in place with several leather straps. The cinch on her elbows seemed to want to draw her shoulders back and her tightly bound breasts apart, adding further agony to her aching chest.

With her arms secured, she was moved to the floor, not by lowering the chain, but by unclipping her ankles so that she suddenly tumbled down onto the stone below. She was flipped face down and each foot was grabbed and lifted by a man who wrestled a stiff leather boot onto it while she writhed about on the cold stone, her pierced nipples dragging across the rough surface and the weight of her body pressing down on her bound and aching breasts.

Once the boots were fitted to her feet and buckled into place Emmy found that her toes were trapped in a pointed position. Her ankles were folded back against her thighs and more leather straps held them in place there.

A pair of hands grabbed her tiny waist and lifted her up onto her knees, leaving her face pressed into the floor. She gasped as she felt a slick, pudgy finger probe at her asshole to loosen it up.

"No, no," she heard the baron object through the thick leather of her hood. "Use the other lube. That'll let the cunt know the price of her continued defiance."

There was a pause and then the next thing Emmy felt was the rounded tip of a steel butt plug pressing against her anus. She was determined to fight them. She clenched down and resisted the push of the intruder into her ass, that is, until the 'other' lube made its presence known. Because this new butt plug had been slathered with a lube that had been mixed with chili oil!

Emmy found new ways to scream despite her gagged and hooded head and her severely compressed diaphragm. The intense fiery burning was enough of a distraction to allow her captors to force the bulky plug up into her ass where it spread the flaming agony deeper up into her bowels.

She was set aside to savor this fresh, new agony while the crate was opened up. There were several loud snaps as the latches were undone and some of the panels were pulled away. Then Emmy was tipped upright and many hands grabbed her and lifted her from the floor. She felt the rough wood of the interior walls slide along her arms on both sides as she was slowly lowered into the narrow crate. Her pointed toes were first to touch the bottom of the box. She groaned as she felt her weight press her toes farther into the slender uncomfortable boots.

Then, when her hips were just inches away from the bottom of the crate, the hands let her go. Emmy dropped the rest of the way. "Ahhh! Aaahhhh!" she screamed as she found out in the most painful way possible that the bottom of the crate was not flat, but instead had a narrow metal ridge running along the middle from front to back. Her cunt landed squarely atop that ridge, mashed between the cold, hard metal and her hips. She immediately tried to push herself up, eager to escape the cruel torture of sitting atop the ridge, but strong hands pushed her back down. Nevertheless, she kept her pained toes pressed to the floor as hard as possible to try and relieve some of the burden of her body upon the awful perch.

The front side of the crate was lifted up into position. Emmy felt her knees press up against the wooden panel, resisting its full closure. "She'll fit," she heard the baron insist to his associates. "Just push harder."

The pressure on the panel renewed. Emmy wailed as she slid backwards half an inch, crushing her folded arms against the back wall and raking her pussy along the dull metal ridge. She felt her tendons strain as her knees were forced back, settling onto either side of her tightly bound breasts. There was a 'click' and the front panel locked into place, keeping Emmy's body trapped within the narrow walls of the crate. Her moans were continuous now. The only part of her body that seemed free to move was her head, which lolled back and forth under its covering of tight, stifling leather.

"Can she still hear me?" she heard the baron ask.

"Yes, my lord. But speak loudly," Bertrand replied.

"Pay attention, cunt!" The baron demanded as he rapped his knuckles on the top of her head. "You're not coming out of there until you cum for me. Understand?"

"Unnngh, unngh," Emmy moaned.

The baron rapped harder on her hood. "I said, 'do you understand'. Nod if you heard me."

Emmy reluctantly nodded.

"Good. And don't try to fake it, because we'll know if you do." His booming voice softened. "Alright, close her up."

"Unnngh! Unnngh!" Emmy squealed in terror as her head was bent down between her knees and the top panel of the box dropped over her. Once again, additional force was needed to mash her cramped figure down into the confines of the crate. Emmy felt her neck bend more and more until finally there was the 'click' of the latches closing.

Then the panic really set in. She was trapped. Completely unable to move or shift. The severe angle of her neck combined with the oppressive hood and crushing corset made her feel like she couldn't breathe. Air frantically whistled quickly in and out of her hood's nose holes. She screamed in fear as the intense claustrophobia overwhelmed her. She pushed and strained every which way but couldn't move even a bit. She could feel her thundering pulse pound in her ears. Thump! Thump! Thump! She'd only been shut in for a moment but already she felt she was going mad with terror. She couldn't focus on anything at all but the peril that completely surrounded her.

Then, breaking through suffocating waves of terror, she noticed a new sensation - the painful metal ridge pinned against her pussy had started to softly vibrate. The baron's demand repeated in her mind - she wouldn't get out of the box until she came. But cumming was the furthest thing from her mind right now.

She tried wriggling her hips but quickly had to stop from the agony of the hard ridge grinding against her aching cunt. She tried pushing harder on her pointed toes, hoping to lift herself enough to reduce the pain of the ridge to allow the vibrations to work her up, but her feet could not sustain the intense pressure required. All she got for her efforts was more pain and greater exhaustion. She cried out in frustration.

Maybe they were just fucking with her. Maybe they didn't want her to cum and were just teasing her with the promise of release. Maybe she would never get out of this box. Maybe they would keep her here for the rest of her life.

Her thoughts spiralled down deeper and deeper. With a cry of despair she tried banging her head on the top of the box, though there was so little room to move that she couldn't do even that. However, in one of the attempts she discovered something new. If she used her head to push herself down hard enough, her clit ring would make contact with the ridge. Brrrrt! Metal clattered on metal and the sensations were translated directly into her sensitive clit. A surprised moan escaped her throat.

She tried to push herself down again. Waves of pain shot through her. She felt like she was being split in two by the ridge. But hiding amidst the crippling agony was the stimulation that she needed. It wasn't pleasure - there was no room for pleasure in the tiny box, but it was something.

She could only press herself down for a moment before the blazing pain of the ridge forced her to relent and she had to mash her toes to the ground to try and relieve the unbearable agony in her cunt. After a moment's break she forced herself down again. Brrrrt! She made herself stay down longer this time.

Up. Down. Up. Down. She traded between the pain in her toes and the pain in her pussy. But she could sense she was making progress. Soon the metal ridge was slick with her juices. She could feel something building inside her. Short, shallow breaths pumped in and out of her compressed lungs. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. Thump! Thump! Thump! With time, though, her legs were growing weaker and weaker. It was now or never, she decided. She mashed herself down and held herself there. Brrrrt! Her pussy blossomed with pain. Her whole body demanded that she relent, but she kept herself down.

Longer. Harder. Almost there. Then her body shuddered and tensed. She was awash in a sudden release of endorphins, but even those couldn't dull her crippling agony - any modicum of pleasure from the orgasm had been eclipsed by her intense suffering. Her body thrashed within the tight confines of the box as her muscles spasmed. She then went limp, gasping with exhaustion. But she'd done it.

She waited for the sound of the latches being opened. She waited for the feel of fresh air across her skin. She waited for... anything. But nothing happened.

The ridge continued to vibrate beneath her. Her tortured body continued to suffer. Claustrophobia closed in on her again. She screamed and begged and pleaded. She scratched at the walls of the crate. Her thoughts started to spiral once more.

I did what they wanted, why aren't they letting me out? What if they never let me out? What if I'm trapped in here? Maybe the orgasm wasn't strong enough. Maybe they didn't notice that she came.

She latched onto that last thought. Despite their assurances, they must not have noticed that she came. How could she convince them? How could she show them that she had complied? There had to be some way.

But she eventually arrived at the sinking conclusion that her only option was to try and cum again and hope that they noticed that one. She was so sore, so hurt, so tired, but, more than any of that, she was so desperate to be released from the hellish box. She tried to think of any other way, but kept coming back to this only course of action.

Once again she rocked herself up and down, trading between the agony of the ridge and the agony of her toes. She tried to keep her attention on her vibrating clit. But she was so exhausted. Every movement required twice as much effort as before. Every pain hurt twice as much. She mindlessly bobbed, swallowed in a sea of suffering, feeling a new coat of pussy juice slicking the ridge beneath her hips. Slowly, slowly she could feel it building as the last of her strength waned. Up. Down. Up. Down. But her resolve was failing. She couldn't bear it any more. She pushed herself down one last time, her body heaved with her heavy pain-wracked sobs. It was then that she came for the second time - the most joyless, mechanical, rote orgasm of her life.

She could feel the last of the strength leaving her body with it. A black mood draped over her. That was it. There was nothing more she could do. She waited expectantly for something to happen, and after a moment it did - the ridge underneath her suddenly stopped vibrating.

And that was it.

No latches were released. No panels were removed. Emmy was left in pain and darkness, floating in a sea of terror and melancholy. Through all the fear and agony, one thought kept bubbling to the fore - Sir Robert, her faithful protector, what fate had befallen the brave man?

---

Sir Robert lay motionless on the floor of his cell. He was tired. He was weak. He hadn't eaten for days. No one came to visit him since he had first awoken after his capture. He had survived only on the rainwater he collected by sticking his hands outside his narrow window.

The storm outside had raged the entire time, growing and shrinking in intensity randomly throughout. He marked the time passed by the subtle brightening and dimming of the dark storm clouds that swirled over the castle. Though now it seemed as if the storm was letting up. A dark mood hung over him. He had failed Emmy. He would die here, while she would suffer for an eternity.

Suddenly there was a sound. He'd been alone so long that he didn't believe it at first. He turned as the door to his cell cracked open. The bright light beyond was blinding. He tried to rise to his feet but was too weak. Something clattered to the floor and the door snapped shut again.

"Wait!" Robert rasped, his voice unsteady from disuse. But whoever it was had already gone. He crawled over to see what had been left - it was a metal plate piled high with stale bread and congealed beans. He dove at it with ravenous vigor, hardly even chewing the first bite before taking the next. In an instant the meal was gone. He laid back down on the floor, but soon a heavy drowsiness weighed down on him and he drifted to sleep.

---

Emmy couldn't be certain how long she had spent in the box - the only way for her to mark the passage of time was through the pounding of her pulse in her ears. Had it been hours? Days? She couldn't tell. At one point she managed to fall asleep out of sheer exhaustion. Though her dreams reverberated with the tortured echoes of her waking nightmare. Surely this couldn't be how they intended her to travel with the baron every time, right? But in her heart she knew the answer to that question.

When they finally let her out she was a changed woman - more docile, more compliant, more easily controlled. The mere threat of another stay in the horrid box was enough to send her into a panic. She would do anything to avoid that fate, and the evil trio that held her captive did their very best to see just how far she would debase herself to do so. It was no longer solely about utilizing the collar, now they tortured her just for fun, too.

She was made to eat her meals from the dirty floor. She was dressed up in sexy lingerie and forced to dance for them. She was ring-gagged and ordered to deep throat each of them to orgasm again and again. They gave her oversized dildos and commanded her to use them to make herself cum over and over and over. They made her beg to be punished in crueler and crueler ways and then when they were finished with her they made her beg to be locked away in tiny, cramped cages, though none so confining as the box she so feared.

Emmy occupied one of those small cages right now - a short narrow metal cage that forced her to remain on hands and knees, her head jutted out from a gap in the front that closed around her neck. A bar inserted through the sides of the enclosure and in front of her hips kept her ass pressed against the back of the cage. Short chains stretched from her ringed nipples to the bars on the bottom, keeping her back severely arched. She still wore the white thigh high stockings, elbow length velvet gloves and matching leather corset that they'd made her put on when she danced for them during their lunch several hours ago. The six inch heels on her aching feet stuck out through gaps in the bars at the back of the cage.

Cum and drool dribbled down her chin from her ring-gagged mouth. More oozed from her other well-fucked holes - remnants from when the cage had been hung from the ceiling so that the trio could take turns spit-roasting her.

But now the cage sat on the floor with Emmy softly moaning to herself inside. Bertrand, after studying one of his tomes for a while, was arranging crystals and runes in a careful circle on the floor nearby. Their attempts to control the power of the collar were not as successful as they had initially hoped, but they never gave up. The baron berated and scolded his steward to no end, demanding that he get it right, insisting that time was wasting. The steward kept his head down and kept working, just as determined to succeed as his malicious boss.

The cage was opened and her restraints removed. "Get out," the baron ordered. Thorne sat draped over a comfortable chair nearby, always eager to see poor Emmy suffer, and always eager to lend a hand towards that goal.

She crawled out of the cage, her stiff muscles protesting as she moved. "You will stand near the pole in the center of the circle," Bertrand instructed her.

Emmy slowly climbed to her feet. Despite many painful opportunities to practice, she was still rather unsteady on such high heels. Swish! Smack! "Faster!" the baron demanded with the swing of a flogger against her rear.

"Mmmph!" Emmy groaned. Her hands moved to massage her stinging ass.

Swish! Smack! "Hands behind your head!" the baron growled with another slash across her back. Emmy hobbled towards the pole, urged along by the baron's liberal use of his flogger. She stopped in front of the shiny chrome bar jutting several feet vertically from the floor. The rounded tip of the cool metal came just a few inches higher than the height of her pussy.

"Sir Thorne, could you lend a hand?" the steward asked. Thorne jumped to his feet and, at a nod from Bertrand, together the pair lifted Emmy from the floor. They angled the tip of the pole into her cunt and then set her down again. Emmy moaned as the smooth metal sank into her pussy and her feet touched down on the floor. Bertrand knelt down and closed the metal cuffs fixed near the base of the pole around her ankles. Even without the cuffs there was no way for Emmy to move - she had no means of lifting herself from the pole buried in her pussy.

Bertrand handed Thorne a length of elastic rope. "Would you be so kind as to bind the collar bearer's breasts with this? You do such a fine job of it, I've noticed."

Thorne smiled at the compliment and grabbed a handful of Emmy's hair, yanking her forward until she bent at the waist, then he began to circle her dangling, round tits with the stretchy cord, tying it as tight as he could around each breast individually at its base, and then with the last few turns binding them both together. Emmy resisted the urge to push him away as he manhandled her tits - the baron stood behind her, his flogger at the ready, in case she lowered her hands from the back of her head for even a second.

Thorne finished, leaving a length of the stretchy cord dangling from Emmy's tits, which were already fading to a deep purple color under the strain of the tie. Now he and the steward stood her upright again and maneuvered a set of heavy wooden stocks onto her neck and wrists. Emmy sagged against the weight of the wood as it pressed into her shoulders and held her velvet gloved hands out away from either side of her head.

To help 'correct' her drooping posture, Bertrand picked up the extra length of cord dangling from her tightly bound tits and ran it up through a ring on the ceiling where he tied it off. Emmy followed the tug of the stretchy rope on her aching chest, standing fully upright with her upper body tipped towards the ceiling. Bertrand removed enough slack that she was nearly hanging by her breasts. Emmy moaned as her poor tits stretched out and away from her chest.

Now the steward bent low and Emmy felt something being clipped onto her clit ring. She didn't know what it was at first until a slot was opened on the pole a few inches below where it entered her pussy. Then, when both the pole and her clit ring began softly vibrating, she realized that she'd had one of the resonating stones pilfered from the Ravenwing attached to her.

Her moans took on a new flavor as the subtle vibrations toyed at her pussy. All day she had been strictly forbidden from cumming. This despite hours of being fucked in the cage and hours more before that being made to play with herself for their amusement. In an instant the pole was slick with her arousal.

"We are ready, my lord," Bertrand reported to the baron.

Swish! Smack! Emmy stiffened as the flogger crashed across her ass. "Alright, cunt," the baron said. "Your Lord commands you to cum. Now."

Emmy didn't need to hear any more. A small defiant part of her wanted her to hold back to spite his direct order, to prove he didn't control her, but it was quickly silenced by the overwhelming need to release the pent up horniness in her body. The subtle vibrations alone weren't enough to get her off. Emmy pushed off with her toes, feeling the pole slide ever so slightly out of her pussy, but there wasn't enough movement available by lifting herself up. Regrettably, she realized, she would have to sink herself down.

She shifted some weight from her feet, feeling it translate to a sharper pull on her tightly bound tits. The elastic cord stretched, allowing her to drop lower on the pole. As the shaft penetrated deeper into her cunt it brought the two resonating stones closer, increasing the intensity of the vibration in each.

"Unggh!" she panted as the sensations kicked into a higher gear. But the stretchy nature of the cord meant that after dropping down, she soon bobbed back up. The pole slipped out of her pussy and the vibrations slowed. She pushed down on her feet again to start another bounce. Swish! Crack!

Emmy screamed as the back of her thighs erupted in pain. Impatient, Thorne had taken a cane down from the wall and swung it hard against her stockinged legs. "Hurry up, whore! We haven't got all day!" he sneered.

Disrupted by the cane stroke, Emmy resumed her journey, bobbing up and down on the pole. The peak of the sensations from the rapidly vibrating stones coincided with the peak of the agony from her tits being pulled away from her chest. Every few bounces Thorne would lay into her with another stroke of the cane. Her legs were soon crisscrossed with welts. Why was he doing this? She was doing her best. Didn't he know that she was just as eager to cum as he was?

Despite the cruel cane, despite the torture of hanging by her tits, Emmy could feel herself getting closer. Up. Down. Up. Down. Crack! Scream! Up. Down. Up. Down. Crack! Scream! She suffered through the pain, feeling it swirl and flow with the pleasure hiding behind it, but it wasn't enough to get her off. Sweat dripped from her body. Her cunt ached with desire. She needed something more. She had to try something different.

Thorne moved his strokes lower, now striking her calves. Emmy kicked and wailed, her movements stymied by the cuffs around her ankles. That gave her an idea. She lifted her feet again, transferring her full weight to the stretchy cord as she had before. But then she used the grip of the cuffs around her ankles to pull herself down even farther with her legs. The pole and her clit ring blazed to life as the proximity of the resonating stones was reduced to nearly nothing. The tip of the pole banged against her cervix as it bottomed out in her cunt. Her chest flared with pain as her tits supported not only the burden of her weight, but the added force of her legs pulling her body even farther down. As the rope stretched it pulled tighter around her breasts crushing them as they were yanked away from her body.

"Aaaaarggghhh!" she screamed as she squirmed at the end of the fully extended cord. Her feet, free from the floor, jerked and wriggled as she struggled against her instincts to stop pulling down harder. Her tits, two taut bound purple balloons, twisted and stretched to the ceiling, the strength of her flesh pushed to its very limit. Thorne stepped back, his cane silenced by his victim's bold move.

"Aaaargh! Aaargh!" Her body writhed upon the pole. Her hips quivered. Her legs trembled. And she came. It was a violent, forceful screaming orgasm that saw her body bucking and thrashing and fighting as she lost control of herself. In the dungeon, the doors of the empty cages rattled, the torches flickered, and on Bertrand's desk a clear crystal suddenly turned opaque.

Emmy was still moaning as she regained control of herself and set her feet firmly down upon the floor once more. Thorne applauded the performance he'd just witnessed. Bertrand furrowed his brows and studied a handful of various colored gems on his desk against a page in one of his tomes. The baron looked at him expectantly.

"So?" he asked impatiently after a moment.

"Negative, my lord," he replied. "Something is still not quite right. The collar's power is not being directed where we want it."

"Damn it!" the baron snarled.

Bertrand flipped through his papers some more. Thorne bent low to admire the welts he'd left on Emmy's trembling legs. Emmy stood so far up on tiptoe seeking relief for her agonized tits that not even the heels of her impossibly high shoes touched the floor.

"Maybe your research isn't as good as you promised, Bertrand," Thorne suggested. "Give me a few days alone with the girl. I'll find out more than any dusty tome could ever say." He smiled sadistically as he brushed a tear from Emmy's cheek.

"Enough," the baron stamped his foot. "Thorne I've told you time and again that that is not how I'm doing this. Bertrand has my total confidence. It is only a matter of time before we unlock the knowledge we require."

Thorne scoffed and the baron scowled at him. "I'm told that the storm outside has passed. Don't you have some loose ends to tie up?" he said. "Off with you!"

Thorne sulked out of the dungeon leaving Bertrand and the baron. "Maybe this would work," the steward muttered to himself as he swapped two of the runes in the circle around Emmy. He returned to his desk and tapped the crystal that had gone opaque during Emmy's orgasm. It turned clear once more. He looked to the baron. "My lord?"

The baron nodded. He went into a cabinet and withdrew a sand-filled hourglass, one that Emmy knew would last about fifteen minutes. He flipped it over and glared at Emmy. "You will cum for us again or you will be spending tonight in the box."

---

When Robert next awoke he found himself standing on his feet with a splitting headache. A cool breeze tousled his hair and the sun warmed his skin. He groaned and opened his eyes and was surprised to find himself standing on the main deck of the Ravenwing. Ropes bound his wrists and held his arms up to the rigging high above.

His mind was in a fog as he tried and failed to piece together how he had gotten here. He wondered where he was being taken and by who. Though he suspected he knew the answer to that second part.

A flash of movement drew his eye to the foremast. There was someone else tied to the rigging over there. The flash of her blond hair and the pink glow of her skin immediately made his heart race. Emmy! But, no, the unconscious woman dangling from her wrists was not his missing companion, but a near perfect lookalike, right down to shape of her face and the replica metal collar that circled her neck. She even wore one of Emmy's dresses.

Robert now noticed a piece of paper held to the mast in front of him by a dagger stabbed into the wood. It read:

Dear Sir Robert,

I don't know if you will awaken in time to read this note before you meet to your fate, but I feel I owe you an explanation. By now you must have surmised that you have lost and I have won. Don't take it too hard. I have bested far better men than the likes of you.

Unfortunately, your part in this story must come to an end. I'm afraid that a simple unexplained disappearance will arouse too many questions and spawn too many investigations. So you are destined to meet a fatal airship accident that will leave no survivors. You and your "princess" will die in the fiery wreckage and the kingdom will mourn its fallen heroes. At least, until a new monarch comes to take the throne.

Granted, it does seem a waste to destroy such a fine airship. But as you well understand, no great thing comes without sacrifice.

Goodbye and good riddance,

Sir Thorne Blackrose

P.S. I promise to take very good care of your sweetheart in your absence.

There was a scream from the front of the ship. Emmy's doppelganger had awakened to find herself alone and bound to the rigging. But that isn't why she had screamed. The clouds in front of the ship had parted, revealing the massive, towering cliff face that they were headed towards at full speed! They were moments away from a violent collision with a sheer face of solid granite.

Robert, never one to panic in an emergency, thought quickly. He reached for the dagger buried in the mast ahead of him, but there wasn't enough slack in his ropes to reach it. He looked up into the rigging and saw hope. Thorne had tied him to a line that normally stretched permanently between the masts. However, after the modifications that Lord Callum had made to the ship, this line could now be released at the pull of a lever - a lever that the doppelganger now stood within reach of. Thorne, having left the ship before the misadventure with Lord Callum, was unaware of the change.

He called over to the frantic girl, who was relieved, at least a little bit, that she wasn't going to die alone. It took precious seconds to explain to her that he could save them if she just kicked the lever near her feet. Eventually she did and Robert's hands dropped low enough that he could reach the dagger and cut himself free.

With no time to waste, he ran up to the quarterdeck and grabbed the controls to turn the ship. But his attempts to steer accomplished nothing - Thorne had done something to disable the controls. With time running out, he ran to the back railing and looked down. They were hundreds of feet above the ground. There was no way they could jump, and he had no line long enough that they could rappel down.

The rudder on the back of the ship caught his eye and he got an idea. He grabbed a rope and lassoed it up onto a spar jutting out past the stern. If he had stopped to think he'd never have done what he was about to do, but there was no time. He took the rope and tied it twice around his waist. Then, with a running leap, he jumped as far as he could off the back corner of the ship.

His body lurched as the rope snapped taut a dozen feet out away from the ship. The air pressed out of his lungs. But, now at the end of the line, his body swung like a pendulum. He twisted himself so he swung feet first. A second later his boots crashed hard into the rudder. His body crumpled against the sturdy plank. There was a loud snap and Robert thought for an instant that his rope had broken, but when he found that he wasn't in a free fall, he realized it must have been something else.

Then he felt the ship lurch. His dangling body flew out away from the Ravenwing as it banked hard to the right. He could hear cargo crashing about in the hold from the severe angle of the turn. In another ten seconds he saw the stone cliff face pass, twenty feet off to the side. He'd done it! The ship continued turning in a tight circle. Robert hauled himself back onboard to try and slow the rudderless vessel.

After bringing the ship to a standstill he went to free the doppelganger. With the danger finally past, he was able to sit down on the deck, his body still trembling with adrenaline. His first thoughts were for Emmy. He had to figure out where he was. He had to fix his ship. He had to rescue her!

---

Emmy twitched atop the vibrating pole buried in her aching cunt. She'd spent the entire night mounted upon the dastardly thing, ostensibly as a 'reward' for cumming before the baron's deadline. Unfortunately for the baron (and also for Emmy), Bertrand's experiments continued to yield disappointing results. The baron had long ago departed, leaving his steward to continue the tests, rearranging runes, tweaking configurations of crystals, and scowling in frustration at the tomes he consulted.

Eventually the overworked and sleep-deprived assistant succumbed to his exhaustion, passing out at his desk with his head in a book. No amount of Emmy's cries or screams could awaken the man. And so she remained, dancing atop the pole.

She could hardly keep her eyes open, but sleep wouldn't come. The heavy stocks dug into her shoulders and reduced the circulation in her tingling hands. Her exhausted legs could hardly bear any of her weight any more. Her tender feet were crippled within her high heels. Her distended tits stretched painfully up to the ceiling - she wondered if they'd ever be the same again.

All the while, the cruel pole lodged up her cunt continued its ceaseless vibrating. Emmy had lost count of how many times she'd cum after the first ten or so. There was no pleasure to be had in orgasming any more. Her overstimulated organ quivered and pulsed with pain in protest at each one. She did her very best to keep up on her toes to spare herself as much as possible. Nevertheless, she could feel another painful climax gathering on the near horizon.

At one point late in the night, Emmy had refused to make herself cum on Bertrand's command. In response, the frustrated steward angrily snatched her ankles up from the floor and bound them to her thighs, then he lowered the rope holding her breasts until she was fully impaled on the vigorously vibrating post. After three screaming orgasms he finally relented and restored her to her original predicament, much more worse for the wear.

Emmy didn't know how she continued to function. The healing powers of the collar, once considered a blessing, now felt like a terrible curse. It allowed her to suffer greater and for far longer than any normal person could possibly tolerate. Her despair was too much to bear.

Bertrand's rumbling snores competed with Emmy's tired gasps in the dreary dungeon, providing just enough distraction that she didn't notice Baron Shademark return, refreshed and ready for a new day of abuse. He snuck up behind her and with the quick flick of a blade - snap! He severed the tight cord holding Emmy's tits to the ceiling.

Emmy dropped like a bag of rocks, her tired and unsuspecting legs did nothing to slow her descent. She crashed down fully onto the pole. "Ahhhh! Ahhhh!" she screamed as the tip crashed hard into her cervix. Her feet scrambled for purchase on the smooth floor. Her weak, cramped legs no longer had the strength to lift her any higher. She howled like a wild animal. With the close proximity of the resonating stones, her clit and the pole vibrated with greater vigor than ever.

"Ohhhhh! Ohhhh!" she wailed as another orgasm was ripped from her tortured, overworked pussy.

"Please! Please!" she begged with her dry mouth still propped open by the ring gag. "No more!"

The commotion was finally enough to rouse Bertrand from his deep slumber. "My Lord!" he said, hurriedly scrambling to his feet. "I am terribly sorry! I must have fallen asleep for a second there."

"Quite alright," the baron replied, patting the shoulder of his faithful servant. "You've been working very hard lately. Why don't you take the morning off? I'll look after things down here for a bit."

Bertrand profusely thanked the noble and scurried out of the room. The baron turned to Emmy, who continued to writhe in agony atop the cruel pole.

"And you, cunt," he said with disdain. "If you want a break, you'll have to earn it."

---

Robert gripped the helm of the Ravenwing, willing it to go faster. He worked day and night for two days trying to fix the rudder and Thorne's sabotage. Even still, the ship was not fully repaired. But he didn't dare wait a moment longer before mounting his rescue mission.

Emmy's doppelganger, her name was Jenny, did her best to help him regain his strength after his stay in the dungeons of Castle Grayrock. It turns out Jenny had known Thorne for years. She worked at one of the many brothels in Cloudspire and had caught his eye because she 'resembled someone he fancied' in his words. Thorne made it a point to see 'his favorite girl' every time he was in the area. But on his last visit he informed her that he didn't need her anymore because he would soon have everything, and everyone, that he ever wanted. She had been drugged and dressed up in one of Emmy's dresses and tied up on deck to be sacrificed alongside Robert.

They were two days' flight away from Cloudspire at the plodding speed that his crippled ship now flew at. Still, it was faster than attempting the rocky, rugged terrain on foot and it gave him a viable approach back into the castle. He dropped off Jenny at the first village he saw along the way, gave her a handful of coins, and told her to get as far away from Cloudspire as she could.

His plan counted on a few uncertain assumptions. One, that he could make it back to the castle before Thorne, otherwise they'd raise the alarm as soon as his ship crested the horizon. And, two, he had to hope that the baron's conspiracy was not well-known among the castle guard. He'd docked the Ravenwing at the castle once before without much fanfare, he hoped none of the guards would think it suspicious if he visited again. Otherwise he'd have to fight his way in through hundreds of men - an impossible feat, even for one of the kingdom's most skilled swordsmen.

At the pace they were flying he'd arrive at the castle under cover of darkness. He would come in low and move fast. Hopefully with the element of surprise he could rescue Emmy. He would do it, or die trying.

---

Clack! Clack!

"Mmmmph!" Emmy squealed as the baron ratcheted her restraints tighter. She hung stretched spread-eagle between two vertical beams. Ropes near the top and bottom of each beam pulled her limbs out away from her body. They were unbearably tight and, still, the baron spun the crank on each a little further. Clack! Clack! Emmy felt like her joints would separate.

The dungeon was stifling today. Sweat soaked the thick leather hood that had enveloped her head since before the tortuous strappado that she'd spent all afternoon in. The dirty rag that had been shoved in her mouth before it went on sapped the saliva from her dry mouth. Heavy locks ornamented her nipple rings, serving no purpose other than to twist and stretch her sensitive nipples.

The baron seemed to be crueler and more sadistic with each passing day. He traced his hands along her sweaty suffering skin. A finger probed beneath the belt that ran between her separated legs, gathering the moisture from her overstimulated pussy. The belt had become a near constant accessory that Emmy now wore between punishments. It held a pair of gently vibrating dildos parked in her pussy and ass that kept her just shy of orgasm. That was the state they wanted her in - horny and desperate, able to cum at a moment's notice.

In fact, that was part of the training regime they had started her on. They'd leave her alone for extended periods of time in a stress position, then suddenly appear and demand that she cum almost immediately. And if she failed, she would face the baron's wrath. It was all part of the insidious plan for her miserable new life as the baron's lucky charm, his fix-all for any calamity that might befall him.

Only, Bertrand had not yet unlocked the secret to controlling the collar's power. The baron scolded and berated his faithful servant more and more after each failure, inevitably turning his ire towards Emmy, who suffered and screamed under his cruel retributions.

But something was different today. Today the baron seemed downright giddy. "My dear princess," he purred into her ear as he stood behind her, cupping her breasts and playfully swinging the dangling locks from her nipples while Emmy squealed, unable to move even a little due to the tightness of her restraints. "Are you excited for what we have in store for you?"

"Nnngh! Nnngh!" Emmy pleaded as he playfully clanged the locks together again and again.

"What's the matter?" the baron snarled, releasing her breasts and yanking back on the pair of long blond pigtails that erupted out of the top of her hood. "Am I not entertaining enough for you? Do you miss your old friend, Sir Thorne? Well," he said, letting go of her hair and shoving her head forward, "I'm afraid I have some bad news on that front. Thorne is no longer of any use to me. He accomplished what I needed him for - bringing me the collar, and you - so it's past time that he was disposed of. I signed his death warrant just last night. The next time he shows his face in my territory, he'll find a noose around his neck. Hahaha!"

"But don't you worry, dear." She could feel his hot breath on her neck. "I'll have good use for you for a long, long, long time. And there's more good news too," he added, walking around front of her. "Bertrand is now certain that he has figured out the missing component for controlling the collar. That means that the next time that you cum, I will be made unstoppable!"

"My forces are gathered. As I soon as I give the order we will march against your father. You'll be coming with me if course - I didn't have that fine traveling case built just to have it gather dust in the corner." He paused. "Maybe I'll let you see your father before I have him executed. He can learn what part his beautiful daughter played in his downfall and the fate that she will suffer for years and years to come after his death."

His words hung ominously in the air.

"I'm so excited!" he said, breaking the momentary silence. "To mark this momentous occasion I thought we would do something special to commemorate it." Emmy felt the baron tug at the zippered eyeholes on her hood, opening them up. She squinted against the bright light flooding in against her dilated eyes. When they adjusted she saw the baron with his back to her, using a thick glove to grasp a thin metal rod with its tip resting in a pile of coals stacked on a brazier.

"Mmmph! Mmmph!" she pleaded when she saw him spin around to reveal the red, glowing brand bearing the baron's noble seal - a running bear.

The baron waved the red hot brand in front of Emmy's face. Even through the thick leather of the hood she could feel the intense heat radiating from the metal. Outside in the hallway, on the other side of the sturdy dungeon door, there was a growing commotion. The baron paid it no heed as he slowly circled Emmy.

"Now where shall I put my mark?" he pondered. "Your breast?" Emmy squealed as she felt the heat grow nearer to her tits. "Maybe your ass?" he suggested, wandering around behind her. Emmy was trembling with fear, or, she would have been if she hadn't been stretched so tight.

"I know," the baron said finally. "We'll place it right here on your inner thigh." He stopped in front of her and smiled, grazing her soft flesh with his fingers. Outside, the commotion was growing closer. They could hear the sound of men's shouts and the clashing of metal on metal. The noise was finally enough that it drew the baron's attention away from his victim.

"What is that confounded racket?!" he demanded. "Bertrand! Find out what the hell is going on out there!"

The servant jumped to his feet and hurried to the door. No sooner had he unbarred it than it suddenly crashed open, smashing the scholar against the wall and knocking him unconscious. Before the baron could even turn around, a blade burst through his chest from behind. He looked down at the blood-soaked steel in surprise. The branding iron fell from his hand, clattering noisily to the floor, and the baron tumbled down after it, dead.

"Emmy!" Robert screamed. Blood streaked his armor. Sweat matted his hair. There was a smouldering fury in his gleaming eyes. He quickly drew his dagger and hacked at her bindings. She collapsed into his arms.

"Robert?" she said weakly. "Is it really you?"

"Oh, Emmy," he said, embracing her. "I was afraid I'd never see you again!"

He held her closely for a long minute, then lifted her to her feet. "We have to go. Quickly now," he added. "I managed to sneak my way past most of the guards before fighting my way through the dungeon, but if they've raised the alarm we're going to have a hell of a time getting out of here."

"Robert," she whispered with fear in her eyes, "don't let them take me alive." Then she fell unconscious. He wrapped her in his cloak and took her into his arms, carrying her up through the winding passages of the dungeon, stepping over the countless fallen guards who had dared to try and stop him on the way in.

Fortunately they were able to get back to the ship unnoticed, but as he ran up the gangplank he heard shouting behind him. He set Emmy down and cast off the mooring lines, then set sail away from the castle as quickly as possible.

Only after he was certain that there was no pursuit was he finally able to attend to Emmy. He took her to his cabin and set her down on the bed. She groaned as her injured body spread out on the clean sheets. Her skin was cold and clammy. Her breathing was shallow. He sat by her side as she faded into a fitful slumber that was beset by nightmares.

"No! Please! No more! I'll do what you asked," she pleaded in her sleep.

Robert laid down beside her and stroked her soft hair. "It's okay, Emmy. You're safe now. They won't hurt you again," he told her as he succumbed to his own exhaustion and fell asleep beside her.

---

Emmy awoke hours later in the dark cabin. The only light came from the pale blue glow of the gem on her collar. The tortures she'd endured in the past couple weeks all felt like a dim and distant memory. The aches and pains and depressive thoughts that had plagued her since her capture had faded away. Was it the collar's magic, or simply the fact that she had been reunited with her companion?

She looked over at her savior, sleeping soundly beside her. She remembered the rage in his eyes when he'd burst in to rescue her. But now he seemed as serene and gentle as a lamb. She felt so safe in his arms, like nothing else in the world mattered.

She snuggled up closer to him, bringing their faces closer together. His sweet breath mingled with hers. She leaned in and kissed his soft lips. He stirred, and returned the kiss. It was their first ever kiss, starting out tender, then it soon grew as passionate as that of old lovers. His hands glided up and down her smooth back while hers pulled his muscular body closer. Their lips separated only long enough for each of them to shed their clothes, then their bodies mingled together as one. Emmy had been through hell in the past weeks, but when Robert's hard cock entered her, it was all forgotten and she found heaven. Her legs wrapped around him, pressing him deeper. He was a firm, yet gentle, lover. Neither was hurried, but they both came quickly, together at the same instant. Then they held each other for a long time until they settled back to sleep. No words were said. None were needed. Everything was exactly as it was supposed to be.

Miles away in the distance, the ground rumbled beneath the city of Cloudspire. An earthquake rattled every house and shop in the sleeping town, knocking down books and frightening children. The damage was minimal, except for one area - an enormous fissure opened in the stony spire that gave the city its name. That rocky crag that had supported the mighty Castle Grayrock split in two, and the fearsome fortress crumbled and fell onto the steppes below, completely ruined.