1 comments/ 7796 views/ 4 favorites Magister Ch. 01 By: Anomandaris This story will contain elements of non-consent, BDSM, fantasy/sci-fi anal/oral and forced sexual activity. If this is not your thing, then feel free to move on to another story. This chapter is mainly setting the scene. Things will definitely progress more rapidly in the next several chapters. Enjoy. Feedback is appreciated. * She was feeling faint. The cold of the rain made her shiver, her body trying to create heat as she huddled in the alleyway, looking out onto the town square for a likely target. Her stomach was cramped in pain, a desperate reminder that she hadn't eaten in three days. Her last attempt to lift a purse had been almost fatal as her target ended up being an arms man for the local lord. He had beaten her black and blue for her efforts, and left her bleeding in an alley several blocks from where she was. Her skull still ached, but she was glad that the arms man had not seen through her disguise, and had though her a simple beggar boy who had gotten overly ambitious. The beating had been painful, leaving her with aching ribs and a limp that was just starting to fade two days later. Finally she saw a likely target. A cloaked man riding a large, fine stallion trotted down the town streets through the cold drizzle, his cloak drawn tight against him, sheltering him from the occasional gust of wind. She snuck out of the ally and stalked her prey, hoping for a chance to cut his belt pouch. A man with a horse that fine might carry enough currency to last her several weeks if she was careful. The rain was her ally now, muffling her footfalls, as she kept to the shadows and moved closer to the man. He dismounted in the middle of the town square, and tied the horse to the hitching post in the public square, next to a water trough that was over-full with the rain. He moved toward the tavern through the rain. She watched as he walked through the muddy square. He moved with a smooth gait, even through the mucky streets as if the mud and squalor of the town was of no importance. He wore fine boots, that shone in the torchlight, indicating that they were made of oiled leather, waterproof that most people could not afford. As he moved closer to the tavern, several drunks stumbled out, cursing and swearing at each other, and stumbling and slipping in the mud. One shoved one of the others, causing him to stagger towards the stranger. She tensed, and prepared to dart forwards, hoping beyond hope that this distraction would enable her to lift the strangers belt pouch. The drunk took several staggering steps and bumped into the stranger, nearly knocking him over. She saw her chance and darted towards them, as the stranger flared his cloak and cuffed the drunk with a open hand across the ear. "Be more careful of where you step." A low bass voice said with a level but menacing tone. "Sorry sir. Just having some fun with my friends" "Do it elsewhere and stay out of the way of others if you know what's good for you. Horseplay amongst friends is one thing, but be careful not to involve others. I would have been sorely displeased if I had been knocked down into this foul mud. Now be on your way." "Aye sir, my apologies sir." The drunk said, with a clumsy bow, moving off. One of his friends laughed loudly as his misfortune and the group staggered off into the rain. One of them started singing a rather off colour song about a barmaid as they moved away from the tavern. She closed in, staying to the shadows, not realizing that the keen eye of the stranger had seen her as she moved towards them. The cloaked man stepped up onto the covered porch of the tavern, standing in the shadows just off to the side of the entrance but off to the side of the main entrance. He looked to be waiting for someone. She moved towards the porch, keeping to the shadows and hoping for a distraction so she could strike. The stranger flipped his cloak back once in the shelter of the porch. She saw the long dagger sheathed at his hip. And then she saw her target. A fat belt pouch, probably laden with silver coins. She moved closer, desperate for a chance to grab the pouch and slip off into the shadows of the town, to count her loot. She reached to her own belt and unsheathed her small belt knife, kept razor sharp to slice the rawhide strings that kept most purses tied to the belt. A crash of thunder startled her and the rain began to come down harder. She moved in closer, hoping for an opportunity to make a dash for her target. Suddenly her chance came. Another group of drunks staggered out of the tavern, distracting the stranger. This group was very loud, cursing and swearing as two pairs came out onto the porch, cursing at each other vehemently. A blow or two was struck and the group scuffled on the porch, drawing the eye of her target. She silently vaulted the rail as her targets eyes turned towards the fighting men, and she made a quick dash forward, her knife slashing in to sever the cords that bound the pouch to her targets belt. The pouch dropped into her hand with a solid weight, significantly heavier than she expected. The pouch must had gold coins in it rather than a few silver like she expected. She moved away from her target quickly, hoping beyond hope to get away from the scene before she was noticed when a blinding flash of pain hit her on the back of her skull. The world faded away quickly as her mind faded into black. Pain woke her. Throbbing behind her eyes as she slowly woke. More pain in her shoulders, as she realized that her hands were stretched above her head. Pain in her wrists, the raw feeling of the rope abrading her skin, that kept her wrists together above her head. She was tied, dangling from a rope that kept her suspended off the floor, the rope looping around her wrists several times. A soft moan of pain escaped her lips as she gradually rose from unconsciousness. She tried to open her eyes, but that revealed only blackness. She was blindfolded. "So... My little thief wakes." She recognized the low menacing voice of the stranger on the porch. "Little thief, who do you work for?" She groaned softly. The pain in her shoulders keeping her from being really coherent yet. "Little thief. Who do you work for?" The voice held more threat than she had ever heard before. She shivered with fear. "No one. I... I just wanted to eat." "So you decided to steal a Magister's Seal?" "No... just wanted silver to eat sir." She stammered, shaking with fear. "I don't believe you little thief." The voice said with quiet menace. "No one would try to steal a Magister's seal just to eat." "I... I just wanted your purse." "Again little thief. I don't believe you. Do you know the penalty for Treason little thief?" She shuddered, imagining the penalties that might arise from high crimes against the kingdom. "No.. no sir I do not." "Death is the only penalty allowed for by law little thief. Death by torture." She fainted. Magister Ch. 02 This story will contain elements of non-consent, BDSM, fantasy/sci-fi anal/oral and forced sexual activity. If this is not your thing, then feel free to move on to another story. Enjoy. Feedback is appreciated. The pain in her shoulders woke her. She still hung with her hands bound above her head, but instead of being cold, she was warm. She could hear the sound of a fire crackling in the background. With a start, she realized that her clothes were gone. She hung naked from a ceiling, her feet dangling above the floor. She shivered with fear. A Magister ... an Agent of high justice that answered only to the Emperor. She had tried to steal the pouch that contained the seal that could shatter the life of anyone in the Empire. A seal, that on a document could strip the titles and lands from the highest lords in the Empire. Or sentence a lowly thief to death. A small groan of pain escaped her lips as she tried to lessen some of the tension in her arms. She heard footsteps behind her and a hand touched her shoulder. She shuddered involuntarily in terror at the touch. "Ah, so my little thief awakens," the low menacing voice said. "I think it's time we were introduced little thief." The hand left her shoulder, and she heard movement behind her. She dropped slowly, and her feet touched the floor. The tension left her shoulders and she stumbled. She felt a hand at her elbow and her hands were dropped down in front of her. The blindfold was removed from her eyes, and she glanced quickly around, trying to determine her location. She was in a medium sized room. There was a large bed against the wall, and a stout table with two chairs. The table had a pitcher with some dark liquid in it and a large bowl of soup or stew with a loaf of bread sitting beside it. She glanced up and saw rafters, and a rope still hung there. She turned her head to the side and looked at her captor. He was dressed in the black travelling leathers of a warrior. A long dagger hung at his side still and she saw that a longsword hung on a belt of the back of one of the chairs. He had long hair, pulled back into a warriors braid, and had a bit of a bear, but neatly trimmed. Her captor moved her with a firm push over to the table. "Sit." He pull one of the chairs away from the table and manoeuvred her not so gently and with a little shove the back of her knees hit the edge of the chair and she sat with a thud in the chair. She pulled her bound hands in tight to her chest, doing her best to cover her breasts. "So, rather than call you little thief, I'd like to have your name girl." "Alasara Miller, sir." "Well Alasara, you are in a great deal of trouble, if you haven't figured that out yet." "Yes sir, I re-realized th-that," she stammered with fear. "My name is Damien. I am a Magister. Do you know what that is girl?" "Y-you serve the Emperor sir,." "Indeed I do. And the pouch you tried to steal contained my seal. As I said before, the penalty for theft of a Magister's seal is death. Now, I'll put your mind slightly at ease. I will not order you put to death for an act of what is obviously desperation. How long has it been since you've eaten girl?" "Three days sir." "And why are you on the streets girl? You are obviously not a whore. Your disguise was clever and the marks on your body indicate your are not a particularly good thief. Where did you get the bruises on your ribs?" "I tried to lift the purse of an armsman a few days ago. He thought I was a beggar boy and beat me badly and left me in an alleyway." "Back to my previous question. Why are you on the streets?" "I have nowhere else sir. My family was killed in a fire several weeks ago. And the local Lord at the proceedings ordered me to the nunnery. I could not go there. They take a vow of silence, and are locked away. I'd rather die. So I ran away. I've been on the streets for several weeks." "Yes, that was evident. Your clothing was disgusting. I had the tavern keeper burn it." "B-but that was all I had sir," she sobbed. "Well, as a convicted criminal, you will have your clothes provided for you, Alasara." "Convicted?" "You tried to steal my seal. I hold the power and duty to judge. You are convicted of theft. I just need to file the papers with the local court. The only thing remaining is what your sentence will be. I am currently considering my options. Rest assured, it will be harsh, but fair. You will end up much better off when I am done with you girl." Damien sat down in the other chair, and poured some of the dark liquid into the wooden cup. He held it to her lips. "It's wine. Drink." She took a gulp of the liquid and it hit her empty stomach. The warmth of the alcohol spread rapidly. "Oh ... " It had been a long time since she had even had watered wine, let along a full strength red wine. This was better than anything her parents had ever given her. He muttered a series of words and a glow appeared on his hands. Her eyes went wide with shock and wonder. Magic, being done right in front of her ... With a final emphatic phrase and a quick gesture the glow jumped from his hands and hit her. She felt a slight tingle, but nothing more. "That is a tracer spell. Wherever you go now, I can find you, so there is no point in running. Not likely you would get far in your current state. I'm going to undo your hands. Then I want you to eat some of the stew and have half of the wine. In your state don't eat too fast. I don't want you throwing up." "C-can I have something to wear?" "Not yet. The landlord sent his wife home to get you a shift to sleep in. You can wear it once she brings it. After you eat we'll discuss your sentencing options. Much of what happens after that depends upon the results of that discussion. Now eat girl. I don't want you passing out on me. Trust me, you are going to need your strength over the next several hours, and over the next several days until you adjust to your new circumstances." With that he got up and undid the bindings on her hands. He noted the rope marks had turned her wrists bright red. Damian walked over to the bed and pulled off his leather armour vest, and unbuckled his bracers, and placed them at the foot of the bed. He wore a black silk shirt under his armour. He then sat down on the bed. He slipped another dagger out of a sheath in his boot and put it on the small table at the head of the bed, and then removed his boots. He watched her as she ate the stew. She had finished about half of it already. "OK, that's enough food for now, much more and you will probably be sick." He walked over and sat down in the chair opposite her, and took the wooden cup and poured more wine into it. "I understand you are scared. Terrified probably covers it. But I am a fair man. To be honest, if there were no witnesses, I probably would have brought you up to this room, given you a sound beating for your insolence, and sent you on your way to another town with a small purse and a letter of recommendation to go work for someone as a servant or some such. But there were several witnesses, and many in this town know that I am a Magister. I have dealt with several serious miscreants in this town before, and I'm here to deal with one with a soul blacker than you can probably comprehend. Do you know the punishment for thievery in the Empire?" "Yes sir. A whipping." "And how severe of a whipping would you be in for girl?" "It depends on the value of what I stole sir." "Exactly. Often judicial whippings can be fatal for severe cases, if they are not carried out over several sessions, and the scarring is horrible. Now, how old are you?" "I'm nineteen sir." "Well, that's one small thing in your favour. The sentences for those who have not seen their twentieth are lighter. You are still considered a minor child for that. Unfortunately for you , you have no guardian to speak for you. The penalty for thievery here is twelve strokes with an additional dozen for every gold piece worth of value of goods stolen. And do you have any idea of the value of a Magister's seal?" "N-no sir." "The value the Emperor has set on them is five thousand gold pieces. So you would be due for many thousands of lashes. Most courts would just sentence you to death, as it would be a kinder punishment. Now, I have already told you that I will not sentence a starving girl to death for thievery. Many Judges would not either, but you would be sold into a lifetime of slavery for certain." She sobbed quietly at the news, he head downcast. "I have another thought Alasara." He reached out and touched her chin gently, tipping her head up so she looked him in the eye. "I am not so cruel as that Alasara. As I said, your punishment will be harsh, but you shall be better off once I am done with you. That will, however, not be for some time unless the Emperor gainsays me, and I feel he will not. We would not find out for some time anyway, as it will be some months before I return to the capital, and none but the Emperor can over-ride my decision." He reached down to the table and took a sip of the wine, then placed the cup on the table. He sat up very straight and the timbre of his voice became very official and commanding as opposed to the low bass tones that she had previously heard from him. "I hereby pronounce your sentence, and it shall be carried out. You are sentenced to five years in custody as an Imperial ward. That means you are to obey all commands from Imperial officers and the Royal family without recourse to normal law and tradition. Any disobedience will be punished harshly and immediately with corporal punishment as your Guardian shall see fit. The sentence includes ten strokes of the whip or cane every day of your wardship to pay for the theft of the Imperial seal. The punishment may be lessened or forgiven on a daily basis based on your obedience and conduct. If you flee, your life is forfeit." Alasara shuddered, sobbing as Damian pronounced her punishment. "Alasara." He once again tipped her head up so she looked him in the eye. "So you know. For the next several months, I am your Guardian, and probably will remain so for the duration of your sentence. That means several important things that you need to know. Can you calm yourself enough that you will understand and remember my words?" She took several deep breaths and calmed herself to the best of her ability. Small shudders continued, but she braced herself as best she could. "Y-yes sir." "If harm should come to me, you shall take yourself to the nearest lawman and pronounce yourself an Imperial ward, and let them know that your Guardian has come to harm. They will then conduct you to the Imperial Palace in the Capital and you will serve out the rest of your sentence in the Imperial Palace. Via magical means, your sentence will be transmitted to the Capital tonight. When I set my seal to the writ that documents your sentence, my seal will also record your sentence, and any sentence recorded on a Magister's seal will be carried out regardless of the status of the Magister that pronounced the sentence. Now, as strange as this may seem, you will be receiving many benefits from being under my not so tender care. You shall rarely if ever go to bed hungry. Clothes, probably better than you have had before will be provided for you. And specifically, as my ward, you will almost certainly see parts of the Empire that you would never have seen even if your parents had not perished." As he finished speaking, there was a knock at the door. "Come in." The door swung open and the innkeeper's wife came into the room. She was a reasonably attractive woman, slightly plump, but well attired for a commoner. "M'Lord, this is the best I had at home that was of a size to fit her." The woman handed over a linen night dress. "It was one of my daughter's and she's no use for it now." "Good enough for now Goodwoman. You have my thanks. Before you finish for the night, have another jug of the red brought up here. Oh, and you may hear some screaming and crying shortly. Please disregard it. This young lady has unfortunately for her, some stern discipline coming her way this evening." He took the shift from the woman and placed it on the bed. "Yes M'lord. I'll bring the Red up myself. I'll be right back." Alasara once again started quietly sobbing at Damian's blunt announcement to the innkeeper's wife. Damian poured the remainder of the red into the cup and handed it to Alasara. The cup was full to the brim. "Drink it. Quickly." Alasara took the cup from him, her shaking hands made her spill a small amount as she brought it to her mouth. She drank it quickly, downing the cup in a few seconds, and again she felt the warmth in her stomach. "I will not lie to you Alasara. The punishment you are about to endure will be extremely painful for you. And you will have to endure it. But afterwards, you shall sleep safely, with no worries about tomorrow except for your behaviour to be pleasing to me. And I am not a difficult man to please girl. Just obey me, and all shall be well." There was another knock at the door. Damian rose from his chair and opened the door. He handed the now empty jug of wine to the woman and took the full jug and placed it on the table. "My thanks again good woman. And again, my apologies for the noise in a short while. We'll be needed a stout breakfast in the morning. Have it brought to our room an hour and a half past first light." "Yes M'lord. Thank you for gracing our inn with your custom. You are the first Magister we've had stay here." "I'll pass the word in regards to your discretion to my fellow Magisters. It may serve you well. But there are few of us, and frankly, this area of the Empire falls under my jurisdiction more often than not. But when I am in the city, you shall have my custom." "Thank you M'lord." "Good night." He shut the door, and walked over to the table, and poured another cup of wine, and sipped it slowly. He walked over to a door off the side of the room and opened it. It led to a small bathing chamber and toilet room. There was a large tub with a cistern full of water. He opened the tap and the tub slowly filled from the cistern. The water was cold, but Damian muttered a cantrip and the water began to steam. "Alasara. Come here girl." She rose from her chair, on shaky legs and came over to the bathing chamber. She kept her hands over her breasts as she came into the room. "Get in the tub." "But ..." "No buts. You are filthy. You may have noticed that there is only one bed in the room. I won't share it with you in your current state. You will have no secrets from me. I've had you naked in front of me for the better part of five hours now girl. You have nothing I haven't seen before. And most likely you'll be warming my bed eventually. Get in the tub." His hand flashed out and cracked across her rump and she let out a little scream. She got into the tub and he handed her soap root and a cloth. She washed herself under his stern gaze and the water quickly turned dark. He muttered another cantrip and the cistern was once again full of water. He drained the tub and filled it again. She shivered until he once again cast the small cantrip that warmed the water. She again looked at him with a mixture of awe and fear. The casual use of magic for such a mundane task as making her clean astounded her. He grabbed a piece of soap root and a small bucket. Without ceremony he took dipped the bucket into the tub of steaming water and dumped it over her head. She gasped and sputtered. He crushed the soap root and rubbed it into her hair, massaging it into her scalp with brusque efficiency. He then dipped the bucket into the tub and once again dumped it over her head , rinsing the suds from her hair. "Enough. Out of the tub Alasara." He handed her a linen towel and she dried herself shyly in front of him. "I think this next part requires a certain amount of formality. Go sit on the bed for a moment, and we shall get your punishment over with in a few moments." He went to the table and poured another cup of wine and quickly downed one himself, then filled the cup once again. He walked over to the bed., and looked at his ward. "You are quite pretty now that we've cleaned all that dirt off you Alasara. Put your hands at your side please." She reluctantly dropped her hands, exposing her breasts to his gaze. He reached out and gently cupped her right breast, and then pinched her nipple. She moaned at the sharp pain. "Yes, you are indeed a beautiful creature. I am more and more certain that I have made the right choice." He sat beside her on the bed, and once again reached up and tilted her chin with his fingers so she looked him in the eye. "Alasara, if this was a true judicial punishment, you would be facing a cane or a razor strap. Alas, I don't have either, and frankly I have no desire to scar your delightful body. But the punishment must be severe enough that you will remember it throughout the next day until I inflict the next punishment on you. Being a Magister, I have other alternatives available to me. Go over to the table, and bring me my sword. Be careful to carry it to me by the strap only." She gasped in fear, but did as he asked, carrying the longsword to Damian. He unsheathed the sword and placed it across the pillows at the head of the bed. "Now, my sword is valuable Alasara. It has several defensive enchantments placed on it by the Mage-Royal, and is enchanted so it shall never rust or break. And if needed, I can call it to my hand from across the room with my will. So I cannot afford to have this valuable piece of equipment stolen. So the scabbard of the sword, along with the grip of the sword have some small defensive enchantments on them. I want you to reach out and grab the scabbard." She looked at him, and hands shaking in fear, she did as he asked. As her hand closed on the scabbards a sharp and decidedly painful jolt hit her. She dropped the scabbard as the electric shock went through her hand. "Painful yes?" Damian asked. "Y-yes sir." "If anyone but myself, another Magister, or a member of the Royal family touches the scabbard, or the hilt of my sword they experience the shock you just felt. Instead of a cane or whip, I will use the scabbard for my sword to punish you. You shall feel the blows as well as the shock when I beat you." He picked the scabbard up and unclipped the should strap, and then placed the hard wooden leather wrapped scabbard on the bed. He then reached down into his bag and produced a length of rope. "Your hands , behind your back Alasara." She did as he asked, and clasped her hands together behind her back. He quickly bound her hands with the rope, and then took both pillows from the top of the bed and placed them in the middle. He guided her so she was face down on the bed, the pillows under her stomach. She was totally exposed in this position. He tucked her legs together, and grabbed another piece of rope and bound her ankles together. She could not move very much, and her arse was totally exposed for whatever Damian had in store for her. "Alasara." "Yes sir." "This is going to hurt. A lot." "Y-yes sir." Damian took the scabbard and raised it to shoulder height. Careful to moderate his force he brought the scabbard down across Alasara's arse cheeks. CRACK! Alasara keened with pain, as the dual pain of both the impact and the electric shock coursed through her being. She somehow managed to not scream. Without mercy Damian brought the scabbard down again, and again, slightly harder each time. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! After the sixth stroke she screamed. Her arse cheeks were a bright red, and the last two strokes had raised faint welts. Without mercy, Damian continued the punishment. The scabbard flashed down another six times, in rapid succession. Each blow caused a shrill scream to come from Alasara's throat. Magister Ch. 02 CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Damian reached up to the top of the bed and grabbed his sword, and sheathed the blade then walked over and hung it off the back of one of the chairs. He glanced over at the sobbing Alasara, her crimson arse cheeks still high in the air. He walked over to the bed and undid her bindings, and took the pillows from underneath her. He ran his hands over her arse, feeling the blazing heat radiating from them. She gasped at the contact. "Get up for a moment Alasara." She stood, on shaking legs, still quietly sobbing. Her arse was on fire from the beating that had just been administered. Damian led her over to the table, and handed her the cup of wine. "Drink the whole thing." She guzzled the wine. Feeling dizzy from the unaccustomed amount of alcohol, and the exhaustion of both her ordeal over the past weeks and her punishment. She swayed on her feet ... Damian swooped in and grabbed her before she fell. He place her arm around his neck and the other ducked under her knees, supporting her as he picked her up and carried her to the bed. He placed her on the side of the bed next to the wall. She shivered and drowsily moved in tight to his chest as he placed her in the bed. He gently untangled her arm and tucked her into the bed, covering her naked body with the sheet and comforter. "Shhh. Sleep now Alasara. You are safe." He watched as she started to doze, occasionally whimpering as the sheets brushed against her sore arse cheeks as she settled in for the first good night of sleep that she had had in several weeks. Damian went to the table and poured another mug of wine. He watched her in the fading firelight, and then slipped into the bed beside her. Magister Ch. 03 This story will contain elements of non-consent, BDSM, fantasy/sci-fi anal/oral and forced sexual activity. If this is not your thing, then feel free to move on to another story. Enjoy. Feedback is appreciated. * Damian awoke to a knock at the door. At some point during the night Alasara had rolled over and thrown her arm over him. He untangled himself gently and got out of the bed, opening the door. It was the Innkeeper with a large platter of breakfast, and a pitcher of milk. "Thank you Goodman." Damian said, inclining his head to the Innkeeper. "No problem M'lord. Enjoy your breakfast." The innkeeper said and then turned, heading back down the stairs to tend to any morning custom that might be waiting. The tray was laden with several slices of fried ham, a large bowl of oatmeal, and a small, warm loaf of heavy black bread, with a couple of small pots with butter, jam and syrup. He placed the platter of food on the table and went over to the bed, gently shaking Alasara awake. "Breakfast is here. Come and eat. We have a busy day ahead of us girl." He went and sat down at the table, tearing the loaf of bread in half. He used the provided knife and fork and cut up the slice of ham, and buttered the bread. She slowly sat up, shook her head as if she was unsure of where she was and looked around. Her eyes focused on Damian and a small frown appeared on her face. "I didn't dream last night..." She said in a small hesitant voice. Damian looked at her curiously. "And that is unusual?" "I've had nightmares every night since my parents were killed, sir. I am usually a very violent sleeper. I've woken with bruises on my arms and legs many times from thrashing about in my sleep." She swung her legs out of the bed, and groggily moved over towards the table. "Well, I'm glad you slept well Alasara. Speaking of bruises, stand before me." He gestured. She walked over and stood where he indicated, next to the table. "Place your hands on the table and lean all the way over please." She did as he asked and she raised the back of her shift, exposing her ass. He gently ran his hands over her ass cheeks and she winced slightly a couple of times, as his hands hit a sensitive spot. "No bruising with just a bit of tenderness." He commented. She blushed slightly as his hand dipped between her legs, glancing against the lips of her pussy. His hand lingered for a moment, and her knees started to shake, almost giving out. A slight smile came to Damian's face. He gave her a light slap on her ass and motioned for her to sit in the other chair. "Now eat girl. I know you're hungry, and frankly you are going to need your energy. We've a busy day ahead of us. To start with, we need to get you reasonably outfitted to accompany me on our travels, which means riding leathers, and some decent clothing for wearing when we're in town. Oh, and a pair of good, leather boots to ride in." They sat and ate their breakfast in silence, the two of them making quick work of the large platter of food. Alasara ate as much as Damian did, and he watched her with a small smile. She finished a large cupful of milk, wiping her lips with the back of her arm, she settled back in her chair with a small, contented sigh. Damian rose from the table, walking over to the bed and began to get dressed. Alasara watched as he put on the leather pants, a pair of socks and the magnificent, black boots. He tucked a small dagger into a sheath built into one of the boots. He then grabbed a black silk shirt, pulling it over his head and into place. He reached down into his pack quickly and pulled out a cotton shirt and a piece of rope. "Take off the shift Alasara." She stood and swiftly took off the flimsy garment. Damian's eyes wandered over her naked body. He stepped closer to her, and she shivered slightly. His hand came up and cupped her right breast. "Mmm... you are a pretty thing now that I've cleaned you up and fed you." His thumb and forefinger tweaked her nipple and she let out a tiny, shocked gasp that was a mixture of both pain and amazingly to her, a warm, tingling wave of pleasure that seemed to penetrate her to the center of her being. A rosy blush came to her cheeks and she stare in silent arousal at the hardwood floor. "Hmm... well, we don't have time to explore that little noise you made just now little one. We need to get going." Damian said with a smile creeping onto his face. With that he put the shirt over her head. It hung down to just above her knees, and he used the piece of rope as a crude belt, tying it around her waist. It was soft, much nicer than the crude, homespun garments that she had worn before. It made a quite serviceable dress, even if the sleeves of the shirt were too long for her. Damian solved that by rolling up the sleeves. "That will do for now. I guess the first stop will be to get you some foot gear. I quite like the look of my nightshirt on you. I think you can keep it for now." With that he grabbed a belt pouch out of his pack and tied it to the thick leather around his waist, in the process he grabbed his sword and cloak. The sword was quickly attached to his belt and he buttoned the black cloak around his neck, motioning for her to head to the door. When they got downstairs Damian opened his belt pouch, and took out a silver crown, tossing it to the innkeeper. "For breakfast, I'll be back this evening." "Thank you, M'lord." The morning passed in a whirlwind for Alasara. Damian marched her slowly through several of the shops in town. They spent an hour at the cobbler, with Damian buying her several pairs of soft slippers for wearing indoors, a pair of sandals for everyday use about town, and having her fitted for a pair of riding boots. The cobbler told Damian that it would take two days to complete the boots. Damian offered him an extra twenty crowns if the boots could be ready two mornings from then, as he had every intention of leaving town at that point. The cobbler agreed to the deal, saying he would work into the night if needed for the extra money, almost an extra third on top of the normal cost of the sturdy, fine riding boots. They then went to one of the main, general stores in town and Damian purchased her many of the basic needs for travelling. He purchased her a black, oiled, canvas cloak similar to his own, a backpack, and a long dagger, along with a small, hunting sling. After that they wandered to the district that sold clothing and he bought her two pairs of light brown, leather, riding pants, and two, leather skirts and a couple of leather vests. She was astounded at the amount of money being spent to outfit her. He had spent over two gold pieces, enough for her to live on frugally for almost six months. They stopped at a small tavern for lunch and he bought a pitcher of ale, two loaves of the heavy, rich, black bread, with several, hard boiled eggs, which they ate in a corner table. After they had eaten lunch, he again took her back to the shopping district and they spent a good part of the afternoon at the dressmakers. She spent much of the afternoon standing naked in the back of the dressmaker's shop being measured and fitted for two dresses that Damian ordered, with two sets of nightclothes. The dressmaker was quite shocked when she asked about undergarments and Damian quite bluntly told her that the girl was not allowed to wear them at this point, as she was a convicted criminal under his wardship, and had no rights to privacy. Alasara blushed and hung her head in shame. After all the measurements were taken and a couple of silk shifts had been altered to fit her, they looked at several bolts of cloth to determine which dresses she would have. Damian picked out a soft cream, colored linen, and an emerald green, shimmer silk. He picked out several, linen tops to go with the skirts and riding pants. Those were wrapped in paper and tied with string. Again after discussion and agreeing to pay a premium, the dressmaker agreed to have the dresses ready two mornings hence. It was late afternoon when they finished; they then traveled out to the edge of town where the livestock dealers were. Here Damian actually asserted his authority as a magister and requisitioned a horse from the city stable master, a grey and white filly. They then went to the leather working shop where he ordered a saddle. He took the leather worker aside and spoke to him in low tones for several minutes. The Leather Craftsman's face broke into a grin at something that Damian said, and nodded several times. He disappeared into the back of his shop for several minutes and came back and handed Damian a small bag, knotted at the top. Damian smiled and gave the man several silver crowns. As they walked back to the tavern they were staying in, Alasara's curiosity overwhelmed her. "Sir, what is in the bag that you purchased from the leather worker?" "That, little thief, you shall find out at bed time." His voice had that threatening low bass note that terrified her, but this time there was a warm undertone that held a promise of something dark and strange. She shuddered with apprehension at the thought of what would happen before bed. They arrived back at the tall building a few minutes later, and proceeded up to the room. He had her dress in one of the leather skirts and one of the linen tops. After she was decent they headed down to the common room for dinner. Taking a table in the corner of the rapidly darkening common room, He sat Alasara next to him in the corner. A serving girl came around lighting oil lamps as the sun set and the rooms corners faded into shadows. "What would M'lord like for dinner?" The serving girl asked. "I'll start with a jug of the red wine. One cup, please. What is on the board tonight?" "Roast pork and vegetables, or Chicken Pie, sir." She rattled off the top of her head. "Two orders of the Chicken Pie. Is there dessert available tonight?" "Yes M'lord. We've Apple and Berry Crumble pie and we've Custard-Berry Tarts as well." "Very well, we shall see after we finish the main course." The serving maid hurried off to deliver the order to the innkeeper in the kitchen. Damian topped up the mug with wine and handed it to Alasara. "Drink the whole thing. Do it quickly." She looked at him with curiosity, but did as she was bid, and rapidly drank the mug of wine, letting the wonderful, tasting liquid warm her stomach. He poured another half a cup and had her drink again, then topped up the mug and sipped on the cup. The serving girl came back and dropped two bowls of greens glistening with a light dressing in front of them. "These come with the pies sir, part of the meal." "My thanks." He motioned for Alasara to eat, and dug into his own salad. The greens were fresh, and not overly bitter, the dressing was light and refreshing. It made a good start to the meal. Alasara eyed her salad with skepticism, but watching Damian dig into his salad she tentatively took a forkful and bit. The crunch of the greens startled her a bit, but the light dressing was quite good and she quickly wolfed down the small bowl of leafy greens. Shortly thereafter the chicken pies arrived, and they both dug into the dish, a heavy, crumbly, buttered crust gave way to an inside filled with chicken, mushrooms, onions and vegetables with a rich, chicken gravy. They ate in companionable silence, both quite hungry after the busy day of shopping. Eventually they both finished, and Damian topped up the mug of wine, once again sipping about half of the mug before bidding Alasara to finish it off. She was feeling quite warm and relaxed her stomach pleasantly full. "Do you want dessert Alasara?" Damian enquired. "I'm not sure if I could finish it." She said with a contented groan. The serving girl returned to clear away the plates and Damian asked her to bring one of the Berry Crumble pies. Several minutes later she returned and brought a small pie, with steam still wafting off it. "It's quite warm sir. The Master heated it up for you in the oven." "Give him my thanks. Oh, and get us another jug of red please." With that, he pushed the table out slightly, and reached over to Alasara. He put one hand under each of her arms and quite suddenly picked her up and placed her on his lap. Alasara let out a small squeak of alarm at the suddenly intimate circumstances. "Hello little thief." Damian purred into her ear. "Tonight, after I warm your delightful bottom, you shall warm my bed," she shivered at his words, "but first... dessert." He took a forkful of the pie and slowly brought it towards her lips. She opened her mouth and took the small bite that he offered her. As he fed her, his hand slowly crept up her inner thigh. She clenched her legs together and suddenly she started as Damian nipped her earlobe sharply. "Keep those legs apart little thief. I want to play." He then growled softly in her ear. The words sent a blaze of heat straight to her core. He continued to feed her small bites of the Berry Pie and with every bite his had inched further towards her most private area. Finally his finger reached her cleft, and he gently toyed with the small tuft of hair at the top. She shivered, the conflict between fear and desire growing stronger. His finger flitted gently across her clit and she moaned and arched her back. "Ohhh.... w-what was that..." "Hmm, you liked that did you?" He did it again and again she arched her back, stifling another moan. "I've... I've never..." She stammered. "I gathered that the first time I saw you girl. Tonight is going to be learning experience for you little one. Not all of it pleasant, but by tomorrow morning you will exist in a completely new world." With that he slid his hand back out from under her skirt and grabbed another cup of wine. He fed her several small sips. The hand that had been feeding her pie rose to her breast and gently cupped it through her linen shirt. He then reached up and ruffled her short red hair. "Hmm... no, this will not do. We'll have to do something about that before bedtime this evening." She was confused. What was wrong with her hair? She had kept it cropped short to aid in her disguise as a boy. But what could he do about that she wondered. The hand that ruffled her hair moved to the nape of her neck and the nails were gently dragged up into her hairline. Again, a slow blush of heat flashed from her hairline straight to the fire in the core of her being and she moaned softly. This time she tucked her head into his neck, her chin resting on his shoulder. "Mmm... little one likes her hair played with eh?" He continued to run his fingers through her hair, and then gently ran his fingernails down the back of her neck. Alasara's body shook, afire with both desire and fear. Fear of the pain she knew was coming tonight, fear of the unknown of what happened after that. Finally a small sob escaped her and Damian felt a hot tear drop down onto his neck. He reached up and with one hand gently tipped her chin up so she was looking into his eyes. "Tonight will not be as painful as last night. You will still be punished tonight, but we move into different territory this evening." He gave her a gentle kiss of the forehead, and let her tuck herself back into his shoulder. Damian finished the few bites of pie that were left and motioned to the serving girl. She came over to the table. "Tell your master I desire a moment of his time. I have a special request from the cellars for this evening." "Yes M'lord." Shortly thereafter, the innkeeper arrived at the table. Damian pulled out his belt pouch and counted off three gold pieces. "A bottle of Silver Tears and two shot measures." "Aye, M'lord. Uh, I only have two bottles left M'lord. I bought them at three gold apiece." "Fine then," Damian gave him another gold coin and several more silver crowns, "bring it up to the room in twenty minutes." Damian's attentions wandered back to the little redhead sitting in his lap. His hand went back to the nape of her neck, playing with her hairline with his fingernails. He poured another mugful of red, feeding Alasara several sips, taking several drinks from the cup himself. "Come little one. Time to head upstairs." She drowsily raised her head off his shoulder and stood up. They headed upstairs to their room. She walked ahead of him. As they were about halfway up the steps, Damian, with a small grin on his face, smacked her ass sharply. She yelped and bolted up the stairs, Damian right behind her. As they neared the room, Damian caught up with her, and grabbed her shoulder. She stopped, and he came up behind her. Just outside the door to the room, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, and bent his head down to the spot where neck and shoulder met and his teeth gently closed on the spot. He growled, low in his throat, a sound full of erotic promise and menace at the same time. Her knees buckled, and he slung her into his arms, opening the door. He kicked the door shut with a thud and put her down gently. She stood in the middle of the room, trembling, not sure what to expect next. He went to the bed, where the bag from the leather worker lay, and untied the bag. Her eyes grew wide with shock and fear as he pulled a whip out. It had a hardwood handle that was carved in the likeness of a phallus, and several two foot long, half inch wide, leather straps hanging from the handle. "So little one, rather than my sword scabbard tonight, I thought your delightful rear end deserved some special treatment. From now on my sword scabbard shall be reserved for nights where I am very unhappy with you. A special measure, if you will." He brought the whip over to her, and let her take a close look at it. "This is a flogger, or tawse. The whip strands are made of deerskin. It's significantly softer than regular cowhide. This will hurt, but won't bruise your, delightful skin. Hold out your arm." She held out her arm and he flicked the flogger. It cracked on her arm, and she started at the pain, but it wasn't all that bad. A patch of skin on her arm where the flogger had struck had turned light pink. He sat down in the chair and motioned her over to him. He pulled her down so she sat in his lap. "Tonight is what most nights will be like from now on Alasara. You will go to bed with a warmed bottom, but well fed, and well cared for," He nuzzled her neck, and she giggled a bit as his goatee tickled her, "now, on to business. Take off your clothes, and neatly fold them for tomorrow." She did as he asked, quickly getting undressed, folding her clothes neatly, placing them on the table beside the bed. He stood and walked over to his pack, and pulled out a pair of stout leather cuffs. He attached them to her wrists, and clipped her wrists behind her back. He then sat her in the chair as he readied the bed for the activities to come. He took the pillows from the head of the bed and placed them in the middle of the mattress. He had her carefully get onto the bed and placed her face down on the bed, her ass in the air. He spread her legs a bit, and with a couple of lengths of rope, tied her ankles to the bedposts. She was now totally exposed to him, totally open for punishment and his enjoyment. At that point there was a knock on the door. Damian went over, and unbolted the door, and opened it. He took the offered tray from the innkeeper, closing and bolting the door. With a series of arcane gestures and a few muttered incantations, Damian cast a spell. A light flared in the room. Damian looked at Alasara and smiled. She turned her head to the best of her ability and looked over at him. "What was that sir?" "Oh, just a little aural shield spell. No noise from inside this room will leave. So my dear, you can scream as loud as you like, and unlike last night, the rest of the inn will not have to hear your screams. Oh, and tonight we're not working on a count. Tonight I'm going to whip you until I feel like stopping." Magister Ch. 03 Without warning Damian flicked the flogger and it struck her ass with a light crack. His hand reaches out and brushed against the pink mark that gradually appeared on her ass cheeks. Damian then began to give Alasara a thorough flogging. He concentrated mainly on her delightfully round ass, quickly bringing a pretty, pink glow to her cheeks with several, quick, struck blows. Alasara was moaning, but not yet really crying out much. He then proceeded with a series of heavier strikes right at the juncture of thigh and buttocks, and these strikes got a small series of yips from Alasara. He lashed the back of her thighs several times each and then went back to her ass with a series of hard downward strikes. Alasara let out a little scream at the last of them. He reached down and roughly grabbed her buttocks, digging his fingernails into the now sensitive flesh. She tried to arch her back, but the restraints held her down. "Mmm... almost done with the hard part little one, just your lovely tits and pussy left to punish now." He undid her ankle bindings and turned her over on to her front. He kept the pillows under her ass, and this time tied her legs higher up on the bed posts. Her legs were spread impossibly wide and her pussy was wide open to him. He sat beside her on the bed and began to play with her tits, gently massaging them, and then he moved to her nipples. He pinched and twisted them for countless seconds, getting her nipples even harder than they already were and then dipped his head down and sucked and licked them for several minutes. She was continually moaning now, the heady mix of pleasure and pain overwhelming her senses. He suddenly bit her right nipple and she screamed. "Aaaaaahhhhh! Please sir... it's... it's too much" Alasara gasped out, having trouble speaking. "Soon we shall finish little one." With that he brought the flogger down on her right breast, then the left, repeating the pattern several times. The flogger turned her breasts a bright pink as she writhed and moaned in her bindings. He stood then and moved to the foot of the bed. He brought the flogger down on her stomach several times, slowly moving lower and lower. Finally, he brought it down with a harsh snap on her pussy and she let out a scream and her back bowed. Damian struck twice more in the same spot and again Alasara moaned in pain. "We're all but done with the hard part little one. You've done very well tonight. I'm very pleased." With that, Damian placed the flogger on the tabled beside the bed. Alasara lay on the bed, tears running down her cheeks, quietly sobbing and shaking from her punishment. He untied her legs from the bed and she rolled over onto her side looking at him with a mixture of fear and wonder on her face. He went to the table and uncorked the small bottle. He poured a small amount into one of the two metal cups and went over to the bed, and sat down beside Alasara. Running his fingers though her hair, a small sigh came to her lips. "I knew I was forgetting something." He muttered an arcane phrase, focused his will and then ran his hands through her hair. A warm tingling suffused her scalp and suddenly her hair was now tumbling all over the place, now long enough to stretch to midway down her back. "Much better." Alasara looked at him in wonder. He continued to amaze her with the use of magic for such small and mundane tasks. "I prefer you with long hair, it becomes you. And in a few days I'll show you some interesting uses for that lovely long red hair of yours." He handed her the one of the small metal cups. "Drink this. It's a special treat, even for me. This is Silver Tears. It's a potent elven spirit, infused with Silver Dragon blood, freely given. It has some interesting side effects, besides being a potent relaxant." She swallowed the small glass of spirits, and gasped as her as a sharp tingling sensation began to spread from her stomach to the rest of her body. Damian also downed a glass of Silver Tears, and smiled as he felt the tingle and glow spread through his chest and downward. He then knelt on the bed, and rolled her over on to her back, spreading her legs. His head dipped down and he began to run his tongue along her slit. "Oooooooohhhh... Damian!" She screamed. Her back arched straight off the bed when he found her clit and sucked on it violently. She continued to writhe on the bed as his tongue pillaged her pussy. She let out another bloodcurdling scream as she came as he bit her clit lightly while sucking on it at the same time. With that he rose up above her and used his knees to part her thighs even wider. Her sex was glistening with her juices as he placed the head of his cock at the entrance to her virgin pussy. He slipped the head inside her and she again arched her back at the intense sensation, magnified by the Elven liquor that she had swallowed earlier. The deep pain in her beaten ass cheeks had morphed into a deep penetrating throbbing sensation that warmed her to her very core. Suddenly with a brief flare of pain, Damian thrust inside her, burying his cock into her with one firm, continuous stroke. She arched her back and screamed his name as the flare of pain and the effects of the Elven elixir sent her over the edge and her body convulsed in a powerful orgasm. Her body shook for almost a minute as the Dragons Tears multiplied the sensations of being filled tenfold. Damian continued thrusting into her as hard and deep as he could, Alasara's clenching muscles almost too tight for him to gain entrance. Her pussy gripped his cock fiercely, and the sensations were powerful. He thrust several more times, and then bellowed as he let loose his seed inside her. He then collapsed on top of her, his head against her shoulder, both of them panting with exhaustion. A few moments later, after he had caught his breath Damian walked on shaky legs to the bathing chamber. He retrieved a basin of water and a soft cloth and returned to the bed. He cast a cantrip on the bowl of water, heating it to a point where it was just above pleasantly warm, and then dipped the cloth in the water, wiping the cloth over Alasara's still quivering pussy. The warmth of the wet cloth sent her shivering into another small orgasm, as Damian wiped away the traces of blood and mixed juices from her pussy. He used a dry part of the cloth to wipe up some of the mess on the bed. He picked a quivering Alasara up, and put her into the chair at the table, and then changed the sheets on the bed with a spare set that he had stored underneath the bed. He then went back to the table and poured the remaining Dragons tears into the two metal cups, and had her drink it, as he held the cups to her lips. "This will ensure you sleep well, and are not overly sore in the morning little one. And for me it will replenish and multiply my magical energy stores for tomorrow. It is a wonderful elixir, is it not?" He then downed his glass in one swallow. "Mmmm...." She murmured sleepily. Alasara's eyes were barely open at this point. Damian picked her up and carried her back over to the bed. He placed her gently in the bed, and then crawled in beside her. Alasara made contented noises as her tucked his body against her. "Mmm... thank you sir." She muttered, and drifted off to sleep, as Damian nuzzled the back of her neck. Within seconds, he too was fast asleep.