TheTrainingOfTanya2 Read online

Tanya gained a brief silhouette of the jailer holding one of the contraptions that she had seen on the wall. She was going to be one of the first slaves to feel its embrace, and she felt somewhat privileged to be such a bondage pioneer.

  There was a soft crackle and the stave swept out and brushed her side. A wave of dark power rolled through her body. It was not the atrocious horror of the glove, but rather it was a flowing force that washed away feeling like a wave might erase words etched into the sand of a beach. She felt the spell course along her limbs and expel her control. In an instant, she was rendered paralysed and limp before she could even cry out.

  She sank down in complete silence and toppled forward. Tanya's cheek dropped to the stone and she could only stare vacantly forward. Her mind was still working normally, but her body had been completely severed from her influence.

  "Foolish slave. Now you'll have to be bound until you are required for my use," he said with a sigh.

  The mechanism was set down before her inert gaze so she might watch it unfurl. The base of the engine was a long and slim plate of steel and the jailer started to pull out the various struts that were riveted to it.

  A trident of low poles was hoisted up at one end and adjusted. The central strut was a little taller than the others were and bore a thick leather collar. Those on either side had equally secure cuffs riveted atop them. He moved to the other end of the item and drew out a wide fork of steel that ran along the floor. The two prongs had fetters located at the base and the tip.

  Finally, from along the central plate there arose a final articulated arm. Upon it was set a long and impressively ridged phallus.

  "Well, over you come, slave."

  The jailer took hold of her inert anatomy, dragged her over, and laid her face down and her neck served into the leather collar. He buckled it firmly into place and then dropped her wrists into the awaiting cuffs. Her brow now rested upon the ground and her hands held a little way up to leave her resting on her elbows.

  "You paladins. I don't know. I really don't. Always fighting to the bitter end. And bitter it will be if you don't do what her Majesty wishes," he idly commented.

  He stretched Tanya's body down and brought it up onto its knees, splaying her thighs a short distance apart so that the top of her calves and her ankles could be constrained. With her body languid from the sorceress' sedative, her spine was left slightly bowed, but she could not wilt any further in the arms of the device.

  "And that'd be a shame. You have a veeery nice physique, slave. All that combat training, no doubt. Not too muscular, not too fat, not too curvy or slim. In fact, you're just right."

  The jailer aimed the dildo and moved it until he was satisfied with the position. He then appeared at the head of the item and presented a final part to the machine, one that was detachable and therefore optional.

  "Normally, I would have ended it here, but your little ruckus is going to have this installed. Just thought you'd like to know that."

  The L shaped section of metal bore a fat and stubby phallic device at one end. The other was slid into a covert fixture in the base plate from which the many arms of constraint had emerged.

  The jailer placed his hand to her forehead, hoisted her up, and entered the toy between her slack jaws. The metal support was shoved into place and this left her face held up and backward while her mouth was crammed full of replica manhood.

  Tanya could plainly see that even if she regained motor function, she would not be able to pull her head back far enough to get the dildo out of her mouth.

  "Well, that should settle your nonsense, slave," he announced.

  The jailer jiggled a few of the support struts to ensure that they were secure and then he arose and marched from the room. She saw him turn and regard her one last time as he slid the stave back into its sheath and with a wicked grin, threw the door shut and plunged her back into solitary blackness.

  Awareness of her anatomy started to creep back in. Tanya's nerves started to work and her muscles began to answer her commands. Unfortunately, there was nothing they could do and the first feeling she acquired was the dreadful discomfort of her pose. She straightened herself up and hauled at the immobile bonds. She fought to pull back and free her smarting jaws of the gag, but there was no escape.

  Squirming against the straps, she reached her hindquarters back as far as she could and found that the head of the dildo just about brushed the outer lips of her sex. Tanya gave a despairing sob as she felt the inconsequential tickle of the toy. There was no way she could impale herself on it, and it was kept back to tease her and frustrate her dreadfully. The bondage had her yearning for pleasure, and she could acquire it if only she could perform the impossible and elongate herself just an extra centimetre or two.

  Her loins wafted against the air. They extended back and just about touched the toy to have Tanya cursing her situation. She could not stop herself from acquiring the delicate touch that gave her a subtle and almost indistinct pleasure, but it refused her anything more significant. The frustration from being deprived movement and access to the toy grew with every second. Devotion to her impossible crusade of carnal indulgence left her ignorant as to the passage of time.

  The door issued its tunes and her struggles grew more devoted as she instinctively tried to gain access before taken out of the apparatus and escorted elsewhere.

  The jailer strolled in and touched the stave to her back. The petrifying aura reached out through her body and dispelled her connection to it. Her body collapsed against the bonds and all input vanished.

  The jailer sheathed his weapon and started to unbuckle her cuffs. When she was free, heeled footsteps entered the tiny cell and she was hoisted up by leather-clad holds to her wrists and ankles then taken from the prison and carried face down along the corridor. She stared vacantly downward at the passing flagstones as she helplessly followed their guidance.

  There were a few minutes of travel and then she was set down. The women departed and sensation started to creep hesitantly back into her body. Tanya managed to get an arm up and with a shove, rolled onto her back.

  The first thing she spied was the high vaulted ceiling. The vast tenebrous hall towered up over her and elaborate frescoes depicted scenes of such wanton carnage and debauchery. They were so vivid it forced her to turn her gaze away from these portraits of untamed sexual aberration.

  With taxing effort, she turned her head one way and then another to look lower. Huge pillars rose up from the floor to touch the roof. The massive marble columns were intricately carved with strange swirling patterns that locked their twirling arms about arcane symbols of gold. Steel rings dangled around the lower reaches and these circles clasped myriad bodies. Some of them were alive and gagged, their bodies entangled amidst jagged wire and chain. The remaining decorations were little more than bleached skeletons that were held together with silver rivets. Their sightless eyes and vacant grin mocked the imprisoned and reminded them constantly of what their eventual fate was to be once the Queen permitted them relief from their imprisonment.

  The walls were scarcely visible due to the lack of light toward the further reaches of the hall, but the grim forms of the Queen's elite warriors could be seen flowing in regular and ordered patrols.

  Large braziers dotted the central area. The dancing fires cast shuddering shadows about the foreboding chamber and filled the air with their luscious scented smoke.

  Tanya closed her eyes and gathered her rapidly regenerating strength. She rolled over into a ball and with another strain, she lifted herself up and managed to kneel erect.

  Tanya currently lay at the foot of a flight of obsidian stairs that lanced up to a spectacular and hideous throne of twisted bone and platinum. A massive backdrop of banners wreathed the majestic seat. There were hundreds of ancient flags, all of differing design and aspect. Tanya recognised some of them from her lessons in heraldry and history. They were of Kingdoms and Empires that the Queen had vanquished. Some of them were now almost legendar
y civilisations because of their sheer antiquity. It was a vision that left Tanya aghast at the age of this perennial ruler.

  At the head of these trophies were black banners. Each depicted the emblem of the dark tyrant - a curled silver dragon set upon a pentagram. It assured all that bore witness to the trophies as to exactly who was responsible for that destruction or enslavement of that land.

  The evil force behind these centuries of woe lounged upon her diabolic throne. She was a deity of astounding beauty, with a face and body presented with a radiance and unholy majesty that was instantly captivating, and almost salacious.

  Her ivory skin and long electric blue hair were radical in their absolute shades. The fierce colour of her waist length locks perfectly matched the hue of her unnatural eyes. The irises flashed with intensity and the pupils were slightly slitted, like the eyes of a feline or possibly a serpent.

  A glimmering skin-tight dress of dark hide flowed across her delectable curves. The strapless bodice generated a deep cleavage as the fabric scooped her breasts together in moulded cups. The hem was a slender strand of silver and the metal band was marked with gems. The dress flowed down, hugged her sultry form, and split at her hips. The long ankle length garment reduced itself to two long flaps that ended in another silver-banded hem. The veneer of metal was so delicate that it rippled with even the minutest movement of the fabric.

  Gauntlet style gloves of the same polished material held her arms and the two ends were marked with the same silver bands. Her pale thighs were crossed and her legs were sheathed within thigh boots of black leather. The highest reaches of the boots bore the metal rim and a single suspender that rose up into the waist of the dress. The pointed toes were locked within ornate silver and the dagger heel was crafted in the same way. A spiked choker encircled her throat and numerous silver rings hung from her lobes as two carved pauldrons emerged to cover her shoulders and extend out at the sides. The two delicate pieces of foot-long silver armour were like two jagged fangs that served to hold her long flowing cloak of jet-black silk.

  The Queen had an aura of dread and ultimate might about her that was almost tangible. It had Tanya fighting off the urge to sink down and abase herself in fright of this lethal goddess. The mere stare of the Queen froze the blood in her veins and had her quailing in terror, for never had she seen such a pure personification of darkness and ancient power.

  Her Master and Mistress were present and they stood half way down the stairs, one of them on each side. A flowing cloak of silk hung from their shoulders in faint imitation of the style and beauty of the Witch Queen.

  Tanya could also see several of the black robed avatars sporadically placed amongst the shadows of the scene. The dark demons watched with their incandescent eyes but kept their presence subtle.

  "So, this is the paladin that intervened at Morsthrak," said the Queen.

  Her voice threw a gnawing chill into the atmosphere because although it was a silken and lovely sound, the monstrous diabolic force behind it was not so easily masked. In the end, the notes of her voice inspired mortified despair rather than rhapsody.

  The Witch Queen looked down with eyes that could literally bore through stone and Tanya felt a faint shiver in the air before an ethereal fist grabbed hold of her. The invisible vice clenched. Tanya's flesh rippled under the compression and her ribs felt as though they were going to snap. With a cry of distress, the unseen hold lifted her up and held her in the air for easier examination.

  Her arms and legs were snagged separately and pulled outward to present her in a cruciform. The sheer potency of the unseen bonds almost ripped the limbs free. Tanya yelled out in torment and her body felt about ready to scatter outward if they applied another ounce of pressure. Slowly, the phantom bonds pivoted her and she was turned about and over so that the Queen could peruse her entire form from every angle.

  Once Tanya was sufficiently scrutinised, she was lowered to the floor. She was released and immediately dropped onto her front with her entire body now livid from the compressing torment. Gasping for air, she tried to straighten herself and failed so instead she chose to languish upon her knees.

  "What is your assessment?" inquired the Queen.

  The man responsible for Tanya's many agonies turned to the malignant ruler and spoke humbly. It was the first scent of submission he had ever portrayed, and thus Tanya's attention was all the more devotedly applied because of it.

  "She has potential, my Queen, and may yet be of use. I advise longer than usual training. The indoctrination of her Order may well be deeply ingrained and thus not easily destroyed."

  "Do you concur?" the ruler asked of the Mistress.

  "I do, my Queen."

  "Perhaps if she were aware of the alternatives, she would be more susceptible to taking her place amongst us," noted the ruler.

  "Certainly, your majesty," said her owners in unison.

  They were talking about her as though she were absent, or as if she were some base creature who could not fathom their cryptic conversation or which lacked the mental faculties to operate on their plane of understanding. However, Tanya's education had been flawless so far and they knew that if she dared address them, she would suffer grossly for it.

  "Do you wish me to take her to the Hives, your majesty?" asked the Mistress.

  "No, I wish to enlighten this one personally," stated the ruler.

  The words had Tanya shuddering with fright. The few days under the tutelage of the couple had almost annihilated her resistance with pain and degradation and reformed her as a masochistic slave to their rule. What then could she expect from a being infinitely more cruel and twisted than her servants?

  As the Witch Queen arose from her throne with a wicked smirk tickling the corners of her lips, Tanya knew then that she was damned.

  The Witch Queen stood up. She was proud, aloof, and defiant of all. Instantly the ground at Tanya's feet began to liquefy. With a startled shout, she tried to skip free, but the bubbling ooze held her feet with a suction that she could not overcome. Suddenly the slime spat out grey tentacles of molten stone. The lengths wound about her legs and started to drag her down. She screamed in abject fright as her knees vanished beneath the sludge. The level was rising up over her thighs a moment later.

  Tanya dropped forward and clawed at the ground for a handhold. Her fingers slipped upon the volcanic glass panels that had remained untouched by this charm of vicissitude. Her abdomen reached the surface and began to submerge. This caused Tanya to increase her efforts. Whenever she gained meagre purchase on a ridge or furrow, the pull of the animated tendrils overcame it and caused her to slip back with a desperate cry. Her torso was almost fully downed when a final massive tug yanked her below. Her sight was cut off and she was lost amidst a smothering cushion of thick liquids.

  Tanya kicked and lashed at the slime about her, but the dense opaque treacle reduced her every motion to a slow sweep. She could not tell if she was moving because the sludge churned in all directions. It buffeted her and confused her as to which way she faced or even if she were inverted or upright.

  Her legs suddenly kicked into air and her abdomen fell free. The slime condensed like a muscular tract and excreted her torso and head with a lengthy squeeze. Tanya was given a brief moment of free fall before she struck a soft and spongy floor.

  Grey globules clung to her frame and then, like the previous liquid, the slime became viscous and vaporised. A muffled chorus of sounds filled the air and as the sludge left her ears and unblocked them, she realised that they were despairing groans and moans of suffering. Tanya wiped away what remained upon her eyes and she opened them to assess what manner of hellish domain the Witch Queen had transported her to.

  The malevolent deity was already present. She stood nearby--rigid and invincible amidst a scene of terrible harrowing.

  The chamber was actually a passage that wove onward in both directions and liberally threw off side tunnels as it went. It appeared to be the stomach or artery of some tita
nic beast. The corridor was an organic shaft with walls that were a pink fleshy surface with meandering veins and a glaze of thick moisture.

  Locked amongst the structure of this gigantic bowel were people. A cluster of nodules and cilia embraced each of them and a fat artery was sheathed in every orifice. Despite the intruding tube, the terrible pain they were assailed by, still allowed them to vent their suffering through crippled wails and muted howls. Their eyes were wide and their bodies twitched from the unendurable punishment they were receiving. Fevered sweat dripped from them in endless streams to mingle with the sheen on the meaty walls.

  Hundreds of such victims were visible. The tract wound onwards out of sight to suggest that these were but a few of the legion confined here.

  "What do you know of sorcery, mortal?" quizzed the Witch Queen. She spoke almost as though she were addressing an insect.

  Tanya paused and watched from a lowered stare as the Queen paced slowly about her. The ground squelched softly beneath her tread.

  The submission to female authority that the torturess had started to install grabbed Tanya because of her proximity to this deity and had her comply with humble words.

  "That it is crafted from life energy, Your Majesty," she uttered softly.

  Tanya was unwilling to irritate or show disrespect to one who may well place her amongst these pitiful condemned souls on the most trivial whim. The Witch Queen had shattered nations, so what was the fate of one upstart paladin to such a being?

  "Correct," she stated.

  Her boot rose from behind Tanya and pressed to her shoulder. Tanya was forced over into a small ball.

  "Those with the gift can draw on their own vitality to create spells and wards. It is tiring, even fatal on occasion, for though the life renews, too much expenditure can kill or bring coma. This, you no doubt know, for your Order often marches against those sorcerers who use their art for darker deeds."

  This much was true, but it did not explain where the Queen gathered the power to perform her magics on a scale that no normal sorcerer could even comprehend. Was it that she actually was a goddess, and thus had the life force required to forge such potent enchantments? Tanya refused to subscribe to the notion that terrified the world so. There had to be something else and by being here, she was sure to find out.