Chapter 3: Torment

My senses gradually return to normal. I look around Maeve’s throne room at the crowd gathered for the sole purpose of witnessing my humiliation. I’ve submitted to Maeve in the most degrading way imaginable. The eyes of my audience show no hint of sympathy towards my plight. These Fae may understand how I’ve been forced into debasing myself but Maeve holds their unquestioning loyalty.

Maeve pays her subjects no mind. She quickly locks my chastity belt back in place and returns to her throne. On her command I do my best to stand up straight. My heavy fetters make it nearly impossible, but I try to restore some of my dignity. With the spectacle over, Maeve dismisses her audience and moments later the chamber is emptied of all but a few retainers. Maeve watches me as I stand helpless before her. I begin to wonder what she is doing until I sense the subtle touch of her magic on my senses. She’s tried this trick once before, and was surprised when she realised that I could detect her invasion. Despite all the iron encasing me, and the exhausted state of my power, I can still sense her magic touch.

“Interesting,” says Maeve. “Perhaps you aren’t as helpless as you appear, slave. Now tell me what you have done with the two wyrdkeys you had in your possession.”

My earlier moment of weakness has passed once I achieved an orgasm. My spirit remains strong despite my hopeless situation. I refuse to answer Maeve’s question. Instead I glare at her. At least as much of a glare my iron mask allows me to display.

“Hah! You resist. How disappointing. Very well, I can see that another lesson is required.”

Maeve issues orders to one of her attendants, who promptly leaves on the mission he’s been given. I don’t need to wait for long. Cairn appears in an unseemly rush. He must have been promised an opportunity to strip more of my skin from my body with his whip. The man disgusts me. But he’s a predictable enemy. Maeve, on the other hand, is an enemy full of surprises. I can never tell what she will do next.

“Last chance to talk, slave,” sneers Maeve. “Talk and you will deny Cairn his pleasure.”

Maeve will have to try harder than that if she wants me to talk to her. I didn’t yield to Cairn’s brutality on the beach in Eyllwe; I shan’t do so now.

But yet again Maeve proves her unpredictability. She signals for the fettered female who had cleaned me to come forward. She appears from some hidden alcove at the back of the room. With her is a young Fae female who’s about my age.

“This is Noor, and her daughter Nisa,” says Maeve. “Noor made the mistake of trying to defy me once. So I punish her regularly to remind her of her error. She’s improving. Now she obeys my commands without question. Don’t you Noor?”

“Yes, Lady,” replies Noor meekly.

“Good. Remove Nisa’s clothing.”

Both Noor and Nisa look at Maeve in shock. But Noor is a broken slave to Maeve’s desires, and she only hesitates for a moment before obeying the command she’s been given. Nisa shows more resistance, but she too knows she cannot refuse. Once Nisa is naked, Maeve orders her to stand in the middle of the room and place her hands on her head. I must be the last person in the room to realise what is about to happen. I find it too horrifying to contemplate, even of Maeve. Only when Cairn unfurls his whip and moves towards where Nisa is standing to I realise the depths of cruelty Maeve is capable of sinking.

“See what your defiance of me has wrought,” sneers Maeve to me. “Answer my question and you will spare Nisa from unnecessary suffering. The responsibility for her fate is on your shoulders alone. You have five seconds to consider.”

Cairn moves into position and I quickly look into Noor and Nisa’s eyes. Noor shows no emotion at all, but Nisa is silently pleading for me to save her. I can’t tolerate this cruelty.

“Stop,” I cry. “I’ll answer your questions.”

“That’s better, slave. I’m sure Nisa will thank you later. Three lashes, Cairn.”

“My pleasure, Lady,” replies Cairn.

“Wait!” I cry. “You said you would spare her.”

“No. I said your obedience would save Nisa from unnecessary suffering. Had you continued to defy me, then her punishment would have been far worse. But you defied me to begin with, so recompense is due. It’s entirely your fault. Begin, Cairn.”

“Then let me endure the punishment,” I reply. “Spare Nisa.”

“How touching,” laughs Maeve. “But I will gain nothing by allowing Cairn to beat you into a pulp. I’ve far better ways to ensure your compliance. But don’t worry. I’m sure you will feel the kiss of Cairn’s whip before very long.”

I try to move forward to shield Nisa. But she is too far away and I can only shuffle forward in my heavy fetters. Three lashes might appear to be a light punishment compared to the punishments the slaves of Endovier endured, but Cairn is capable of inflicting excruciating pain in a single stroke. Nisa cries out in agony as the first of Cairn’s strokes lands. She drops her arms to protect her body.

“Count the strokes, Nisa,” commands Maeve. “And keep your hands on your head, or we’ll add more lashes to your punishment.”

“One,” mumbles Nisa once she’s restored her composure and position.

“Louder, Nisa. My new slave didn’t hear you.”

“One,” calls Nisa in a louder voice.

There’s a slight hint of defiance in her tone which Maeve might have detected. Cairn changes position slightly for the second blow. Another cry of pain, but Nisa holds her position.

“Two,” says Nisa, holding back her tears.

The third stroke is positioned to aggravate the first two wounds. Nisa yells out in agony and collapses to the floor. She can no longer hold back her tears. Noor looks as though she wishes to run to her daughter’s aid, but her fear and her training holds Noor firmly in her place.

“Stand up, Nisa,” snaps Maeve. “I’ll not have weaklings working in my palace. I didn’t hear you count the stroke. It seems as though she requires another one, Cairn.”

Cairn can barely hold back his glee. But he must wait until Nisa is in position. To her credit Nisa struggles to her feet after only a few seconds and dries her eyes. She refuses to give Maeve the belated call of the third stroke. She’d be too late anyway. Nisa prepares herself for a fourth. It comes with all the brutality Cairn can muster. Blood sprays across the floor. But Nisa doesn’t cry out and she defiantly holds her position, although only with great difficulty.

“Three,” calls Nisa, in as clear a voice as she can summon.

“Good,” says Maeve. “You may leave and attend to your other duties, Cairn. Noor; clean my throne room floor of your brat’s blood.”

I dread to think what other duties Cairn might have been assigned. He is only capable of one type of task. Nisa is left standing where she is, trembling from the pain racking her body. Maeve moves across to where Nisa is standing and examines her wounds carefully. Then Maeve shows a small amount of mercy. She uses her magic to seal Nisa’s wounds.