The Rescuer's Perspective-Part One free porn video

Part One The Warrior's View Rolf of Trier stood in a clump of bushes. His horse stood quietly behind him tethered to one of the saplings that had grown through the mass of man-high bushes. The beams of moonlight slanted through the leaves of the tree canopy above him. Occasionally, the horse would lean forward and strip the leaves off of one of the nearby bushes. When the beast did that, the bushes would shake somewhat, but Rolf was far enough from the gate he was observing that any movement from the bushes could be put down to either wind or some passing animal. For now, he was not worried about being discovered. So far he had only seen flickers of movement, guards of some sort; they never seemed to completely show themselves. He had been observing this place for two days and nights. He had been almost fanatical in hiding his presence since he arrived here. He built no fires. He moved only at night. And any evidence that might give him away was buried and the freshly turned earth hidden by a careful arrangement of underbrush. The only flaw in his preparations had been the chance the horse that bore him here would give him away now, but between the training it had gotten and the isolation of his position that had not happened yet. He did not think his precautions unwarranted. Over a dozen men he had known personally had not returned from this place as well as many more that he knew of only by reputation. During the daylight hours he could see the remains of the fortified camp built and abandoned by the Red Hand when they had come here on the same mission. The Red Hand were a codetta that specialized in tracking captives and raiding strongholds when their clients had no interest in negotiating ransom and no desire to spend their own men. Lord Allerdyce had hired their services after he tired of sending his own banner men to fail repeatedly. And despite the advantage of having mages numbered within their ranks, even they could never enter this place massed in their full complement. The lone warrior thought that although they had likely stood in this same spot a dozen times and they had still seen nothing. As with everyone else who had come before, the Red Hand found that it was only when less than five were present in a single group that they could even see the ruins where their target lurked. The strange nature of the spell that blanketed this area and blocked it from the sight of large groups baffled their mages. They could not explain, nor could they develop a countermeasure to negate why it only allowed a single person within the sight of the walls to enter. When they realized that the story that only small groups could see it was true, they chose the five most skilled in stealth and silent killing to enter. But those men never even saw the inside of the ruins curtain wall. As they made their way forward, no matter from what direction they approached, it was as if the air became slowly solid. The closer they came to the walls the more difficult it was to move, let alone go forward. Others watching the group from a distance said it seemed as though those who tried to enter began walking slower and slower, as if wading through a lake of winter chilled honey until they finally could no longer move forward at all. But as difficult as it was to approach, there was no hindrances on groups walking away. The barrier it seemed was only to repel, not to trap. After repeatedly failing over and over, the codetta withdrew from the boundary of the keep while leaving several pairs of scouts to observe and report on anything that stirred within the ruins. An officer conference was held in the early evening that first day while the men of the codetta furiously fortified their siege camp. They were not the first to come here, but the end had, thus far been the same. They had meant to use their numbers to overcome whatever had stopped their predecessors from succeeding. But after witnessing the ruin vanish from sight as they approached in marching order and seeing the unmoving group frozen in place before abandoning their attempt they were stymied. With no other options before them, the officers of the Red Hand chose to do as others had previously. If only one could enter then they would flood the keep seeking a way to overthrow the barrier. Several of their best at unobtrusively gaining entrance were chosen to be sent in; to shatter the barrier after piercing it by stealth and leaving what remained to be secured by numbers and force of arms once it had fallen. Before that plan could be executed, the screams of the observation teams and the sound of battle drew them back to the ruins edge. As before there was no glimpse of the ruined keep in sight even though it should have clearly been visible. No broken walls, no masses of overgrowth draped over crumbling buildings. Nothing still could be seen of the ruins. But there was something they could see. The aftermath of the swift savage battle that the comrades of the scouts found when they arrived at every site where those scouts had been posted. Each pair of men had been savagely torn into shredded, rapidly cooling meat. Of the attackers there was no sign. They found nothing but the scuffed underbrush, the bits of armor that had been torn from their bodies like wet paper and weapons that lay where their owners had dropped them in death. There was not a single enemy body to be found, nor was there sign that any had been removed to hide their attacker's losses. So brutal was the attack that its aftermath even sickened the most hardened veterans when they looked upon what was left of their comrades. The officers, knowing that this attack would have a disquieting effect and that no good outcome for their control of the codetta would be possible by remaining even this close, withdrew their men to a safe distance, built their siege camp and made plans to pass information to each other between attempts if they should fail. Men entered at two day intervals and each attempt to bring down the barrier, seize the sorcerer or retrieve the woman he had taken failed. The mages were unsure as to why such a limit was placed. It was unlike anything else they had seen and from their excited murmuring among themselves they were eager to know how such a feat had been accomplished. They were convinced that if they could divine its formula and master this spell they would never lack for patronage again. But at the same time there were mutterings of disquiet among them as fear of the other abilities such a mage may possess preyed on their imaginations as well. All they knew was that what others had spoke of had proved not excuses for failure, but honest truth. Once someone entered the boundaries it was impossible for another to enter for two days. Armies might march within feet of the unseen walls, small groups could see but not come too close and only one could enter. As long as they stayed a certain distance from the ruins there were no further attacks. The Red Hand settled into their fortified camp. Every two days one man would slip into the shielded area. Every night they waited for the latest man to return. Every second day the barrier relaxed and a new man would pass within its boundaries. None of the men were ever seen again. With each failure the discontent of the men mounted and problems that before had been minor became greater threats. As that cost became too high, the Red Hand abandoned its camp and the enormous reward promised them and rode away refusing to continue feeding its men to whatever awaited within the ruins. Afterward, as the rage of Lord Allerdyce grew, others came at regular intervals to seize this chance to make or cement their reputation and claim the steadily rising reward. It was not that there was great danger on the road there. Or that it was concealed and could not be found. Its location was known and the overgrown ruin wasn't that hard to find. Local peasantry had avoided the place as a haunt of demons for generations. They spoke of it as a cursed place that pagans had soaked in blood in service of their dark gods for centuries before warriors of the true faith had purged them in fire and sword. The rising toll of vanished warriors only added a more recent chapter to the dark, frightened whispers about this ruined place when such whispers were voiced. That the gypsy conjurer he sought had taken refuge in such a place was no surprise to Rolf. It was well known in every land he had ever passed through that gypsies were not to be trusted. They were known to be thieves and covert practitioners of dark rituals that served the devil in every way their foul race could imagine. Despite this widely accepted understanding, some fools mistakenly allowed them to remain in existence and instead of burning in their master's realm they continued to plague this world. Rolf was familiar with the story even before he had pledged to be part of it. It was passed from camp to camp as almost a lazy challenge between sell swords. And as with Rolf eventually there was no choice but to try their hand at being the one victor that would eventually emerge. The story went that the youngest daughter of Lord Allerdyce had been abducted by this gypsy conjurer several years before on the eve of her betrothal to a neighboring Duke. That the carefully built web of alliance Lord Allerdyce was constructing was wrecked in a single night since the daughter was useless to him now. The virginal purity that had been her sole value in his eyes disappeared the night she did. Now she was only a worthless female and when she was returned it was well known that he planned to send her to a certain notorious convent in a neighboring kingdom. The lord still raged to all that her only remaining use to him now was to secure some halfhearted goodwill from the Church although that would indebt him in ways he didn't want. That this was the only purpose she could serve him with now was a source of constant infuriation to the ambitious lord. But the main purpose in so many being sent after the worthless female though was not her; it was the need of Lord Allerdyce to make a terrifying example of the conjurer who was the cause of this humiliation. When the pair of them had first escaped, Lord Allerdyce had sent a small party headed by a pair of trusted vassals to bring both of them back. Nothing more was expected to be needed. It was only a girl and an itinerant trickster. Regardless of their small advantage in leaving undetected, no one thought it would take long for them to be run to ground. Even then, the lord planned to use his now worthless daughter to curry some small favor with the church when she was returned. He gave specific instructions that the gypsy must be returned with as little harm as possible even if the girl must be sacrificed to do so. For him, Lord Allerdyce planned a long, brutal, torturous, and very public punishment. The pair of vassals and their group had easily picked up the trail. It seemed that, from what they found that the both of them had left by separate ways and joined together some distance from the border of Lord Allerdyce's keep. After that the trail became strange. Neither of them had horses, yet the distance they traveled seemed impossible to their pursuers. Days passed, then weeks as they trailed the pair across the nearby borders following a trail that finally ended here at this cursed ruin. When they ran them to ground in this place they were the first who encountered the enchantment warding its walls. They watched the ruins fade from view as they approached. When they split their party each of them felt air become stone around them and hold them fast until they fled. When their tracker reached the triple gate unhindered they chose to seize them that way. Sir Cade chose to be first. He was the strongest and a veteran of countless fights since he was a stripling. He did not think either the girl or the gypsy would cause much of an obstacle. He expected to return with them in tow before nightfall. His plan was simple. He would enter, overpower and bind them both and return as soon as it was done. He walked away from the camp and ventured within the gate the tracker had reached. But as he passed within the walls of the ruin they saw it fade from sight. The air hardened again and none could approach. The men became alarmed and Sir Tyler had to beat a few of them to restore order even though he was just as disturbed as they were. After two days, when Sir Cade had failed to return, they felt the solid barrier lessen and the ruin gradually reappeared. Knowing that something was wrong Sir Tyler entered as well. As Sir Tyler entered the men watched the ruin again fade and sensed the air hardening. Without him there to restrain them the men hastily fled and did not cease riding until they reached Lord Allerdyce's keep. The lord was enraged at the failure and ordered each member of the returning party tortured to get at the truth behind their cowardice. Even under that each man maintained the truth of what happened until pain reduced them to gibbering wrecks that said whatever they thought would please their questioners and end the agony. More days passed yet neither of the vassals was ever seen again. Those were the first ones claimed by whatever waited behind that eldritch barricade. Another party was sent and then another and more afterward. Each of them returned bearing only failure and depleted numbers. With each failure Lord Allerdyce's rage grew and with it the size of the reward he offered. After a year of failure and now hearing more frequently the bold, sniggering remarks passed between first his rivals and then even by those who had been at least moderately friendly, he tired of the repeated failure of sending single warriors. He sent his agents abroad and hired the Red Hand. But the Red Hand failed as all others had before. The sniggering of his rivals and peers grew. And when the Red Hand reported it was abandoning the effort, the conjurer begun taunting the Lord with each new failure. He began offering an enormous reward to the one who would end this humiliation. More warriors came and were sent one after the other, the reward had grown to such a level now that the failure of each of their predecessors acted as a goad driving more and more toward these walls. Treasure and honor were powerful currency in every realm and there was never a shortage of those who believed that they would be the one to succeed by virtue of their mastery of the warrior's art. Now Rolf sat here hidden in a distant thicket. He watched the ruins through the leaves scanning for anything that would give insight or advantage when he committed to passing within those walls. It was silent dull work but he knew that it was his best approach. He watched the empty walls. He looked past them where he could to try to glimpse what may be moving within. His ears sharpened at each sound that could indicate anything approaching him. The day's heat waxed and waned. Light faded to twilight and then darkness. He already planned to wait until whatever guards there were had been wearied by the uninterrupted monotony. Then he would scout the west wall as much as he could and gather even more information before he would make his attempt. He recognized the structures he had seen thus far. On campaign in the Italian kingdoms far to the south he had seen old Roman ruins like these many times. Mostly what he had seen there had been stripped to their foundations with very little remaining. Their ancient stones used for other buildings with only the bones of what had stood before remaining scattered about to show that something else had once been there. This one though was avoided by all of the local peasantry and time had done far more damage than the hands of men. As he waited and watched he considered various means to complete his task. He needed them both alive to claim all of the reward. Four times his weight in gold and the reputation of having triumphed where so many had failed waited on his return. The disposal of the woman and her gypsy by killing them never entered his consideration; Lord Allerdyce insisted that they both be delivered alive and Rolf would not be the fool who would did otherwise. The woman would be of little concern. If she proved troublesome he would enjoy giving her a few beatings that would remind her of her proper place. The lord would not consider that treatment unwarranted so there was little worry for Rolf in that regard when he eventually exercised his dominion over her. And she would make the journey back to her father's keep more pleasant if he felt the need remind her of her natural inferiority by allowing her to service him. Again her father would not care; she had been made little better than a whore already by her rebellion against her father's dominion. So when he put her to her natural use before delivering her to Lord Allerdyce he was confidant that none would object. The conjurer was another matter. He must be taken unaware if possible. He had already proven to be far more than a gypsy mummer wandering from house to house casting illusions to entertain his betters. Among the stories that made Lord Allerdyce out as the fool were also circulating fearful whispers that spoke of the realization that this seemingly harmless man could have chosen their house just as easily to work his harm. Ideally if Rolf could render him unconscious it would be a simple manner to bind and gag him to prevent him from using any magic. Rolf had brought some strong bindings blessed and marked by the bishop himself to serve as a deterrent against anything magical. He intended to strip him naked as well so as to prevent him using any hidden charms he may have. The gloves the bishop had blessed should protect him against handling anything harmful, but he would still be cautious. Once Rolf had rendered the gypsy harmless and they were safely away he decided that the first night he would take the worthless daughter in front of the bound gypsy. She would need reminding of her proper position and Rolf needed to impress on the conjuror the futility of resistance. He expected she would need frequent reminding that she was nothing but the inferior God had created her as after being allowed even this hint of success at defying her father's will. She would accept that her sole use now that she was unfit to bear a lord's child remained only to serve a man with her body or her labor in any way her natural superior chose. She would relearn her place if she had forgotten it and like any dumb beast would give little trouble once properly broken in service to her master. The only thing that bothered him so far was his failure to gain a clear look at the dim figures he had seen occasionally moving in the shadows from this distance. He had counted at least four thus far of various sizes. Most were not overly large but it was clear they were guards of some sort. Perhaps the conjuror had summoned them from some nether pit, perhaps they were illusions or they could be nothing more than some kind of fearsome looking scarecrow to frighten intruders away. He had already scouted the east wall the night before from a distance and saw no useful access point there. The south wall held the open triple gate that he had observed since the first night. And while it showed no indication that those gates could be barred shut in any way, that route would not be anything but the choice of last resort. The walls were high, at least 40 feet of solid yellow stonework that had crumbled in some places to as close to the ground as a tall mans height. In some places trees had grown close to the walls, but none of them would be useful enough to gain access with in his opinion. They were either too far away or not strong enough to aid him in scaling the wall. The north boundary was impassable. It stood open against a sheer drop giving a clear view overlooking the valley below and when he observed it during his approach; he could see no point that would allow him to survive climbing that unforgiving rock face. Low sparsely wooded hills flanked east and west. The trees and brush that had been cut down in years past were slowly reclaiming the open space between the forest's edge and the walls. The wall emerged from the flanking hills in short sections that angled toward each other until they joined the short length of straight wall that was pierced in the center by the triple gate. Narrow towers stood at each point where the wall shifted direction. Some stood untouched in the darkness, while others he had noticed had crumbled. It did not matter whether it had been from when Christian warriors had purged this place or from times hand since then the outcome was the same. Rolf could tell that, from what he had seen, this ruin had never been intended as a fortress, although it easily served as one now. The center gate stood high in the raised wall that towered over the lower walls. Four columns stood out in bas-relief. The tall arched center entrance was flanked by two smaller arched gates. Above the smaller portals rectangular alcoves stood empty. Perhaps in the past, images of the demons the builders had worshiped had squatted there. Four broad stone steps lead up to the gate. Through the tall center arch he could see the shadow of a tall colonnaded building that lurked in the center of the area the walls enclosed. Grass and scrub brush grew between the flagstones of what remained of the road leading to the gates but not enough to make his entry undetected. The east wall was overlooked by another steep hill. Part of it overlooked the wall but there was no point that would allow Rolf to descend from it or use it to get over the wall on ground level. It was broken and rocky with a few scattered spindly trees growing from the stony soil. Some trees had grown close to the wall in places but like their relatives on the west wall they were also too far away and too weak to hold him. In some places there had been vines that had grown up over the walls but when he gave them an experimental tug they had proven too weak to hold him so it was not possible to climb over the wall using them. From his vantage point on the hill he had familiarized himself with what lay within the walls. He was certain the large building that could be seen through the gate had once been the temple of these pagans. Tall and rectangular with columns that ran around a central roofed building. It sat in the center, toward the rear of the enclosure with flickers of light glimmering faintly from inside. With only the open cliff face needed to guard the north it had a magnificent view of the valley below. When he had been trying to find a way up that cliff it was one of the few buildings that he could see clearly, if not completely from the distance. Several smaller buildings sat crumbling near the east wall, but none of them were built against it. The long two-story building on the east had probably used for the priests and their acolytes. The smaller ones near the gates may have been barracks and a guardhouse. One large building on the west stood silent and empty, he had seen none of the shadowy guards near it. There was another nearby that he could see thin streams of smoke rising from constantly. Perhaps it was a kitchen. In front of the temple he could see the remains of a broad altar. The stone road that met the gates continued up to the platform in front of the temple. The splintered remains of columns flanking the road thrust upwards from where they stood like jagged teeth of varying heights. Most of the area was also open with little cover from trees or bushes, although in several places he could see the remains of fountains, gardens and overturned statues cast down when the unholy place had been sacked. The west hill was lower and he thought that he may be able to lower himself to where he could gain access to the wall from there. He could see none of the shadowy guards pacing along the wall so he thought he may be able to reach the floor of the compound undetected. From a distance he had seen similar vines overhanging the wall from the steep hill above at one point that appeared to be alive rather than the dried ones that crumbled in his hands to the east. When the darkest part of night fell he would move from this point and make his way up the western hill. If it was as he suspected then tonight he would strike and finally end this humiliation of Lord Allerdyce. And when he did there would be an extremely grateful lord in his debt. The overlook from the west hill gave a good view with the rising moon. The silvery light played over the shadowed ruins below. The hill hung slightly over a section of the wall but getting down would still be a challenge. The vines that hung on this side of the hill were not as dried out, but they were weak and he still would not be able to use them. He found a protruding boulder to anchor to and made the knotted rope he had brought tight around the deeply sunk rock. He expected that the rope would swing into the mass of vines and remain hidden until long after he had left with his captives. Slinging his shield over his back he swung down over the side of the rock face and began his descent. There was about an eight foot drop from the end of the rope but Rolf was sure if he lowered himself to the very last knot he could make it down without too much noise. He let go of the rope and dropped the last few feet to the stone rampart below. As he hit the flagstones he tucked into a roll spreading out the impact as he did. He rolled from his toes to his shoulder. The shield on his back thumped against the stone but the noise it made was not as much as he feared that it would be. He looked quickly down both directions of the long wall but he could see no hint of the shadowy figures that he had seen briefly before. He stood slowly. There were no sounds to indicate that anyone had heard him. He unslung the shield and drew his sword. The steel rasped against the scabbard as it came free. He made his way down the broken stairs that accessed this part of the rampart wall. The large building he had seen from the other hill was nearest so he slipped into shadows and made his way there first. The moonlight streamed through some of the broken roof tiles above and cast some dim light inside of the ruin. The building was mostly pillars and open space. The remains of a mural formed of countless small blue stones in various shades still decorated one wall. In the center of the floor there was a deep rectangular well. He made his way along the edge of the depression. He could see the outline of another in the shadows of the other end of the open building. An old Roman bath He realized. Though he, like many, had little use for such gathering places of depravity he knew that you could still find them in older towns. Some of them were even still working. There was nothing here though. He slipped back to the door and looked out at the open ground between him and the main temple building. He froze. One of the shadows he had seen earlier passed in front of the large building on the east wall. He could see it a little more clearly. It was tall but slender. He could see no weapons but the shadow appeared to be wearing a helm in the shape of hawk's hooked bill. Rolf watched as it slowly passed out of sight. He saw no others although there should have been, so he began to make his way carefully across the open space to the edge of the temple ruin feeling as though he scampered under a predatory eye as he did so. The grass rustled in the evening breeze. The tall columns that ringed the outside of the main building loomed over him. He had seen many of these before during campaigns in Italy and even in decay they were an awesome sight, but now they were only obstacles. He made his way to the front of the building. As carefully as he could he had circled the building, but if there were any other entrances they were too well hidden for him to find. The shadows lay thick around him so he was sure that none would see him moving. As he made his way to the main entrance he paused to look at the doorway gaping high above him. He could see the remains of the heavy temple doors standing ajar. He angled his body and slipped inside. The room was high and open. A few scattered torches were mounted in brackets casting a flickering, smoky light. The light cast long shadows as well. Vile pagan designs still remained in places where the fires of the righteous had failed to burn them completely away. He had still seen no one except for the single shadowy figure passing in the distance. He was constantly scanning around him with his eyes. His ears seemed as though they could register the sound of even an insect crawling, but all was still silence except for the faint burning sound of the torches. He knew it should not be this simple. The hair on the back of his neck rose. Whatever was coming he had to be ready for it. On the far end of the room was something that he had never seen before in any old Roman ruin. A wide platform had been built across the width of the room with stairs leading up flush against both walls. The platform extended out to cover a third of the open space within the old sanctum walls. But it was what was beneath the platform that drew his attention. Among the heavy beams that supported the platform above were iron bars extending from the heavy planks deep into the stone of the floor below. He hugged the interior of the left wall, keeping as much to the shadows as he could although with the emptiness of the room he could not see how it would be possible for anyone to fail to see him. When he reached the edge of the stairs he ducked under one of the supporting archways. He was next to the bars now. Within the bars was a sparsely furnished room. There was a simple bed in the center with a nearby stool and a small table. A few baskets were piled along the ancient stone wall. An oil lamp suspended from an overhead chain cast a guttering light within the cell. On the rude bed a woman lay sleeping. Lord Allerdyce's wayward daughter Rolf assumed. She seemed to have displeased the conjurer and been confined. Why didn't matter to Rolf. She may be easier to control now he thought. If she looked at this as a rescue then the task of returning her to her father became much simpler. He emerged from the shadows next to the staircase. Slowly, as silently as he could, he began to make his way up them. He carefully ascended keeping as sharp eye out for any uneven steps while striving to avoid causing a warning creak from the heavy wood. As his eyes drew level with the top stair he could see a heavy chair just forward of the platform. A gaunt man appeared to be sleeping upright there. Rolf reached into the bag tucked under his sword belt. He felt the small bottle he was looking for. He ducked down, unstopped the bottle and quickly poured its contents into the cloth that had wrapped the bottle. The pungent odor of the strange liquid wafted into his nose and made him slightly dizzy. The apothecary who sold it to him claimed that if the soaked rag were held to the face of whoever it was intended for it would cast them into a deep hours-long sleep. Rolf took a slow breath, held it and dashed up the remaining steps to the man sleeping in the chair. He pressed the wet cloth swiftly against the sleeping man's face and held it there. The conjurer must have already been in a deep sleep for there was no hint of resistance even at the instant that the odorous cloth covered his mouth and nose. Rolf held the cloth there for almost a minute and then let it fall. He reached into the pouch at his side again and drew out the bindings he had brought. The blessing from the bishop as well as the holy symbols woven into the rope would cancel any magic that the conjurer might use he was sure. Once the wrists had been securely immobilized he slipped heavy splinted leather gloves over the motionless hands. There would be no opportunity for the gypsy to weave spells with his fingers rigidly locked into place. The gag swiftly plugged his mouth and the blessed hood secured in place would prevent him from further mischief. When Rolf got him away he would cut away any clothing or charms before slinging him over his horse's withers. The woman could follow behind him on foot and if she proved troublesome Rolf would swiftly remind her of her proper situation. From the bottom of the bag he drew out more rope and firmly bound ankles, knees and wrists together. The man's limp body slid over Rolf's shoulder with ease. Rolf was somewhat surprised that the gypsy weighed so little. But then this was a creature that used the black arts rather than honest god-given strength to fight with so in further consideration his lack of weight was understandable. Truly God had blessed Rolf and those like him with size and strength as physical manifestations of his favor. At the bottom of the stairs he lay the gypsy down against the cool stones. There was still no sound save that made by the torches along the walls. No creak of stealthy footstep, no alarm raised by alerted guards, only the sound of the torches and now the slight sound of the sleeping woman breathing. He looked over the cage and was surprised to find that the barred door, while sturdy, had no lock that he could see. Between glances at the unmoving gypsy's body and at the room behind him he carefully examined the door and the cage as completely as he could. He was still wearing the blessed gloves that he had donned before drugging the gypsy. He pressed one hand gently against the door and found that it easily swung open. He expected it to make some noise but it moved silently inward. With a final glance at the empty room behind him he stepped next to the sleeping woman. When his gloved hand covered her mouth. Her eyes flew open and she began to struggle. "Be still" he hissed. "Your father has sent me to bring you back to him. The gypsy is bound and helpless. If you do as I tell you then you may remain unbound and walk free from this place. Cause me trouble and I bind you as well and deliver the both of you to your father like a pair of trussed geese". The woman's eyes flashed with momentary fear, but she ceased to move. "I will withdraw my hand. One hint that you will raise an alarm and I will silence you." Rolf said in a low deadly voice so that she would not think he was bluffing. The girl nodded silently. Rolf released her mouth, moved back a bit and ordered her to dress herself. Between glances at the gypsy and the silent room he began to get a better sense of this girl than when he first saw her. She was a comely wench with honey gold hair and a complexion like milk. As he watched her dress he looked forward to giving the woman her first lesson in obedience to him. When she finished dressing in a simple robe he motioned her to follow him, but she only stood there. "You should leave now." She finally said after he motioned to her a second time. "The Master will be here in moments and when he comes there will be no escape." "Your master lies bound and helpless. He will do nothing to either of us girl." Rolf said. "As you say" the girl replied, "But it will still not change what will happen when the Master comes." Rolf glared at the girl. He would teach her obedience as soon as they were beyond the walls and away. He resented that there was no time to properly do so now. He picked up the limp bound gypsy and motioned for the girl to follow him. She slowly did so. When he reached the gaping doors he motioned for her to be still and glanced quickly out into the open courtyard surrounding the temple. Shadows everywhere. So many of them. Far more than the one or two he had seen moving around before. Scores of them, silently standing just out of sight ringing the building. He ducked back inside and let the body of the gypsy slide from his shoulder. "The guardian's come." the girl said softly. "The Master calls them." "Your master lies senseless there girl" Rolf said gesturing toward the gypsy. "That is not the Master" the girl said. Rolf heard the sound of a cacophony of unearthly shrieking outside of the walls. He shifted into a defensive stance as his blood froze at his first clear sight of what was standing outside the heavy doors. "So predictable" another voice both soft and piercing said behind them. Rolf spun around to face its owner. The light of the torches blazed blindingly bright. Against the glare he could only see a figure on the platform looming over them. He began to back away to the wall behind him when eldritch blue light raced across the room toward him. Before he could do anything he was enveloped by the light. The shock of its touch made him scream in agony where it struck him. His sword and shield clattered on the floor as his body convulsed in the grip of the light. Dimly he was aware of screaming as his convulsing body was being slowly raised into the air. The light roiled in waves in and around him. With each pulse fresh agony drew an even greater volume of screams from his already raw throat. And still it went on. He must have passed at some time during the blazing pain. He opened his eyes to see the blue fire no longer washing around him. It now had retreated into chains that manacled each of his limbs and suspending him spread eagle between the walls at least a tall mans height above the temple floor. Crowded into the room below were creatures hideous and fearsome. The only clear space in the crowd below was beneath him and forming a path leading from both stairs to him. The creature he mistook for a hawk-helmed guard stood silently to one side. A woman with a falcon's wicked beak and sharp talons where hands should be. Her body was covered in dark feathers on her back with light feathers along her breasts and belly. In the crowd below was not a single human save the girl who stood silently in front of the cage below the platform. Each of the creatures was some sort of unholy mixture of mankind and beast. In a corner a woman with a serpent's body below the waist reared up and bared vicious fangs in his direction. Another with the head of a wolf growled up at him flexing sharp claws on her thick fingers. Looking on the mass of things gathered around him he realized one other thing. All of them were female. "Our guest has rejoined us" he heard the soft piercing voice say. "He is improperly attired though." The blue light washed over him again. He braced himself for the pain he knew was coming, but it didn't. One by one each piece of his armor and the clothing beneath it dissolved into dust at the touch of the light. As each layer fell onto the floor below him as dust, the next beneath it began to crumble in turn, until all that remained was Rolf's naked body suspended still by the chains the light had retreated into. "Our guest is generous, he brings fine gifts" the voice said. He heard a scraping clatter below him. Untouched by any hands he could see he watched his shield and sword rise into the air. His eyes followed it as it was raised high against the wall and was mounted there by those unseen hands. As his arms ceased to move he saw that they had joined many others lining the high walls. Above, far out of reach were not only his arms but others as well. Nothing more than trophies displayed as evidence of conquest. Dimly in the light he saw some he recognized. Arms borne by those he had known that had preceded him here. "That's better" the voice said. "Now the stage is set, our guest properly attired and gifts graciously accepted." Rolf started to speak but found no sound came from his lips. "The Master will allow you to speak soon enough." The girl below him said softly. The brightness of the light dimmed. It lost its blinding glare and receded. He could see every detail within the room as clearly as noon on a midsummer day. Hesitantly he raised his eyes to the platform and the Master that stood there. He wondered how the gypsy had managed this while drugged and bound so thoroughly with blessed materials. It should not have been possible, but it was. The master stood silently relishing the look of shock on Rolf's face. Upon the platform stood no gypsy conjuror, but a tall woman. Her honey gold hair hung down in a long braid behind her. She had high cheeks and milk pale skin. Her slim figure was draped in a red and gold brocaded gown with a heavy filigreed girdle resting snugly about her narrow waist. Her eyes were the color of ice and gave less warmth. She was identical to the woman who stood silently beneath the platform. She gestured with one hand and the binding holding Rolf moved forward until he was suspended only inches in front of her. His mouth struggled to move fruitlessly. "No" she said to him. "You are not to speak. You will do nothing that I do not allow yet. Not move, not speak, not feel" She looked at the suspended naked man in front of her. He was in his late twenties. His body was broad shouldered and heavily muscled from years of training and sword-work. His large penis hung flaccid just at her eye level. He bore scars from minor wounds inflicted in years past. The lines of scar tissue snaked across his flesh telling the story of past survivals. She gestured again and he was suspended prone in the air facing the floor below him. He tried to raise his head, but was unable to do so. The girl looked up at him from the floor below. He felt hands touch him lightly on both sides of his head. The fingers finding specific points until his head was cradled in a wide handed grasp. He felt pressure inside his skull, not painful but a sign that something was happening within. The hands withdrew and he felt himself being hauled upright again. The woman stared at him. Her face above the high collar of the robe had grown even colder. "No more than I expected." She said reflexively wiping her hands across the cloth of her gown as if she had touched something distasteful. She touched the tip of his flaccid penis. "You are so proud of your strength, of your masculinity, of this." She said poking his hanging manhood. Your mind is besotted with your pride. How many times have you allowed yourself to be seen in passing simply to impress your idea of dominance on others? You may speak." Rolf felt the bonds holding his tongue silent fall away. "I am blessed as God blessed me." He said. "God chose me to be the man I am. Favored me with..." She gestured and he was silent again. "Enough, I've heard it before." she said in a dismissive tone. She ran her finger down his length from base to tip. "You are right that you are favored though, much more than you know." She gestured again and he felt himself stiffening. If he had been able to make a sound he would have gasped as his member became harder than he had ever felt it become before. She looked at the engorged tip standing a foot away from his body now. She ran a pointed nail down the underside. "So very large" she said looking up at him. "But even you have no idea how truly large it is do you?" Her gaze held his eyes and he felt her hand grip him just behind his cockhead. "Large...like ice floating in the sea" she said, her hand slowly moving down the length to the base. "But with this, as with ice so much more is unseen". He felt her hand pass along his shaft the palm rotating until he felt himself cupped in it. He felt her hand become immaterial, passing within him yet he could still feel the touch of her fingers gliding along the shaft within. He felt himself becoming even harder. "So much more is hidden, waiting to be revealed" she said as her forearm vanished within him. He felt her hand reach his innermost length, the very center of his manhood deep within his body. "So it shall be with you" she said as he felt her hand clench and then her arm slowly began to withdraw from him. He lost all feeling in his member although he could still see it arching out from his body. He watched as her hand emerged from within him. He saw her grip him by the base of his cock. She began slowly pulling him forward. He watched as his cock began to lengthen even more, yet he could no longer feel it. He watched as it doubled in length and continued to grow. When it was nearly two and a half times its previous size he felt a tugging in his crotch. The first feeling he had had since her hand had clenched him within his body. The tugging pulled him slightly forward, but he felt nothing until she tugged again and then he heard and felt it fall free from his groin a moment later. The scream in his throat died stillborn unable to be voiced as she raised the full length of his penis for him to see. One end was as he had always known it since commencing manhood, long and thick, but behind the part that had always ended at his pubis snaked much larger muscle. Long and tapering, the smooth muscle gleamed wetly under a thin membrane. It was easily nearly twice as long as what had hung outside of him all of his life. "So much more than what you can see on the surface" she said, as from the tip to the distant root it began to quiver and collapse. He watched as the blue light in her palm flared and burned bright. The vapor-like flickering flame curling up and gathering in the center of her palm. Like watching paper burn at both ends his penis burned and collapsed until only a writhing ball of blue light remained floating just above her palm. "And now it belongs to me" she said clenching her hand into a fist, extinguishing the flame. She gestured again and he felt himself being pulled away from the platform. Suspended again he hung before the dais. "In the copse of trees near the gate is where his horse is tethered." She said to the wolf headed woman. Take two others and bring its carcass inside the walls. Feast as you wish when you have done so." The wolf head bowed and left with two others like her. "Come forward girl" she said. The silent twin of the sorceress moved from her place below Rolf. She quickly ascended the stairs and knelt before her master. "Your service begins anew, this task is done." The girl nodded and remained kneeling. The sorceress began to form a new ball of blue light between her hands. As she moved and shaped it, it began to expand into a sphere. Energy began to crackle across the surface; Rolf could feel the power radiating from it like heat from a fire. The sorceress's hands flipped outward and released the ball. It floated gently away from her and hung in the air before the kneeling girl. The glow of the ball reached out for the kneeling girl and enveloped her. She raised her face to the glow. "Father" she said. "Rolf of Trier has fallen. Another unworthy fool you send in your stead has failed. My master bids me tell you once again that only you are to come and face his judgment. That your cowardice will not be allowed to stand for much longer; nor will your insults be forgotten. My master will not remain patient with your insolence forever and as each day passes your punishment grows. You will stand before him in submission and accept the justice he deems you deserve. So swears the master of the nether-light." The sorceress nodded as the message finished. She flicked her hand at the ball. "Fly, deliver" she said. The ball rose several feet and streaked out of the room. In the distance Rolf heard the crash of thunder as it flew from sight. She turned to look at Rolf. "I am Nalice. I am master here. What my father named me does not matter. What you were before does not matter. You, as he will be, as all within my walls...are mine." She turned back to the kneeling girl. "A demonstration". She gestured again and the girl rose. The sorceress cupped her hand again. Dark icy blue light began to spill from between her fingers. Rolf watched as from within the light something grew. The light spilled out in feathery flames. In her hands unfolding like a flower was another erect penis. Not his, although it was as rampant as his was when it was taken. She left it floating within the light and reached to her throat and waist. She unfastened her robe girdle and let it slither off of her shoulders to pool around her feet. The girl had also loosened the drawstring at her throat and stepped from her clothing as well. Rolf saw her breathing faster. Her small firm breasts moved with each breath and her nipples had hardened already. The sorceress took the rampant penis floating in front of her. The root end of the disembodied penis began to writhe as it approached her nether lips. He watched as it began to root between the sorceress's pussy. She bent forward slightly spreading her legs slightly. As she held it, he watched it burrow deeper within her cunt. Each inch of the long root slowly disappearing into her until nestled completely within her. As she stood up the hard fat penis jutted out from her crotch. The naked girl leaned back, the blue light caressing her and cradled her. Like a couch it supported her as she laid spread eagle on the bed of light. As the sorceress approached she spread her legs wider, mewling as the thick cockhead touched her inner thigh. She felt her master place the cockhead between her wet lips. The sorceress pulled it up feeling the mewling slaves outer lips fold around the shaft as they cradled the girth of her cock. The slave girl pressed her heels against the light beneath her and arched her back feeling the vertical shaft passing through her outer labia and nudging her clitoris. Long moments passed as she slowly moved up and down coating the head and the underside of the fat shaft with her juices. Rising up as high as she could push herself she suddenly froze her legs dangling down from both sides of the solid beam of light beneath her. Her head and outstretched arms hung down pointing at the floor. The sorceress readjusted the cock and slowly pushed it inside her slave's eager slit. Rolf watched as each thrust of the she-male's hips forced the cock deeper within the depths of the girl. When the sorceress had fully impaled the girl she began to push her hands against the girl's thighs and Rolf watched as the fat cock emerged again as it eased out only to drive into the depths again with sudden force slapping loudly as bare flesh impacted against bare flesh. The light cradling the girl moved back and forth easily as if on many tiny wheels. The girl's body twitched with each thrust, her legs folded beneath her and her cries began coming faster and higher in pitch. As the girl lost herself in the rhythm, Rolf saw her body begin glowing blue as the light spread delicately around her. Where it touched her, her flesh began to ripple and shift. Her calves began loosing mass, becoming thinner. Her ankles began growing longer with each thrust. Her feet began to split until there were only three long toes in the front with a single short one behind what had been her heel; each with a glittering sharp talon curving like long hooked knives. Her torso began to lengthen slightly; her moans became sharper, higher in tone. Her fingers began lengthening; webbed skin growing between the now impossibly long digits. Her arms lengthened as well. They stretched until they could easily reach her taloned feet. Along each fingertip smaller vicious talons curved amidst the stretching skin that formed leathery bat like wings connected to her torso. Rolf could almost see her bones thinning, losing mass. Her breasts began to spread out growing greater in size while still remaining flattened against her narrowing chest. As the sorceress began thrusting faster inside her she began gasping in a high, constant screech that became more like a falcon's scream with each thrust. Feathers began erupting from her skin. Soft down beneath with longer feathers over that in layers that covered more and more of her until no skin could be seen beneath their iridescent sheen. From her round ass a thin stump began to bulge and shake as long tail feathers grew and fanned out beneath her. The thin skin linking her arms turned wings was rapidly covered in long flight feathers. Her eyes had taken a deep golden hue as her lips protruded, hardened and curved into a vicious beak. With a deep final thrust the sorceress sunk deeply into the new harpy's cunt, sprayed inside her and remained still for long minutes afterward as she thrashed and screeched before falling back limp. The sorceress pushed the limp harpy away. The light bench supporting her rolled back and began to descend to the stone floor below. The harpy's pussy clenched at the shaft as it withdrew then spasmed as it exited revealing a still-hard cock angling out from the sorceress's groin. The light beneath held her still as the harpy was slowly borne to the ground below. The light shimmered as it touched and began sinking into the flagstones. Rolf watched as it dissipated until only the limp feathered body remained there. "Rest and when you are done make your nest on the nearest tower to the west cliff. That is where this one approached from." The falcon beak of the harpy nodded briefly in a lazy satisfied way and then lay limp against the ancient stone. The sorceress turned and walked toward the chair sitting in the center of the platform and leaned back as she sat down. She stretched and hooked her right leg over the heavy arm. Her hand stroked the still erect cock as she looked at the helpless man suspended above her. Her eyes met his. Her hand reached the base of her shaft and began slowly extracting it. He watched as the long root slithered out of her, finally falling free to writhe torpidly in her hand. She cupped it in both hands as the blue sphere rose from within again until every inch of it had been enveloped in a ball of light that consumed it before it vanished when she dismissed it. She glanced at the pair of braziers flanking the chair and they burst into flame. A plate hovered at her hand and she took from it some dried crushed plants and cast them into the flames. Rolf smelt the sickly sweet odor of black lotus as it began burning and filling the air with its stench. She lolled her head back against the chair. Her breasts were covered in a light sheen of sweat brought on from her exertions in shaping the girl into a harpy. Her wet pussy was clearly seen between her widely spread legs, but Rolf felt nothing, just as he had felt no arousal as he watched the transformation of the slave girl. He tensed his muscles against the bonds that held him suspended for a moment. Lotus fumes would cast her into a stupor that he had heard magicians used to draw close to their power source. Perhaps he could break free he thought, but the bonds still held him immobile. She raised her head to him, her cold icy eyes pinning him motionless in their gaze. "Sleep" she commanded. "Things will be different in the morning." Rolf slept.