Chapter 7: Journey Back to the City

I cannot imagine a worse outcome for me than being at the complete mercy of a man like Samvel. What’s more, once he returns to the city, he will cause all kinds of grief for Mistress Rachael, Ramiro and the others at Wadi Halaf. Even Claw may be inclined to take advantage of the situation. Although I have no responsibility for the wellbeing of those at Wadi Halaf, I feel morally obliged to do what I can to help. After all, I was the one who killed Samvel’s guards.

For the moment I am helpless. I can’t fight all these men. Even if I used my key to free myself from my shackles, running away would be futile. I must bide my time and wait for the right opportunity. Unfortunately, that may be a long time in coming. Samvel produces some rope and promptly binds my wrists and upper arms tightly behind me, rendering my arms completely useless. For good measure, he shortens the chain linking my ankle cuffs, making it impossible for me to do more than shuffle.

“It’s too late for you to return to the city today,” says Claw. “How about we have some fun with the slave tonight?”

“Okay,” replies my new owner. “But nothing that’s going to give her any pleasure. I intend for her to learn unquestioning obedience before she earns any form of treat.”

Memories of my early childhood make an unwelcome return. I recall the brutality of the Nenet raiders as they tortured my family and killed my brother. However, I endured those times, including the loss of my tongue. Consequently I remain confident that I shall survive whatever treatment these men intend to dole out. Samvel will find it harder than he thinks to beat me into submission.

Compared to the Nenet raiders, Samvel, Claw and the others show remarkably little imagination when it comes to tormenting a captive. Their own lust overrides any desire to cause me serious harm. One man teases me with a belt, but he doesn’t carry out his threat to beat me with it. Before long, my tits and arse are sore from a combination of being roughly mauled and slapped. However the pain is bearable, although the scratches and bruises will take several days to fade. In truth, it’s only the teasing of my clit and cunt that causes me any real discomfort. One of Claw’s men discovers that arousing me, but denying me the fulfilment of an orgasm, is an effective form of torture. I can’t help myself as I desperately contort my body seeking something to tip me over the edge into an orgasm. The men think it’s great fun, and I suppose my tits and arse are grateful for the respite in the attention they were receiving. But I need to come, and so far I’ve been unable to do so. Several times I’m brought to the brink of an orgasm, only to be denied the extra touch that would have driven me over the top.

Once the men tire of their sport, I’m left fastened to a tree. My arms are still tightly bound behind me, and my bondage denies me the ability to frig myself into a much needed orgasm. I must be content with sleeping in an uncomfortable position while my heightened state of arousal slowly dissipates.

I’m woken shortly after dawn and given something to eat and drink. Shortly afterwards, Samvel fastens a rope to my collar and leads me like a dog along the muddy track towards the road. Apparently Samvel’s arrangement with Claw didn’t include transport back to the city. That simple omission presents me with an opportunity to escape.

Samvel isn’t interested in making our journey easier for me. With my wrists bound by both rope and iron manacles, my hidden key is of no use at the moment. Samvel ignores my efforts to have my leg chain lengthened. With my arms bound tightly behind me, I can only signal my plea by spreading my legs to the maximum the chain will allow. I know he understands what I’m trying to say, just as I know that he delights in refusing. It’s a game of sorts, although we each have a different goal.

Samvel’s goal is to degrade and humiliate me until I am nothing more than a submissive puppet to his every whim. My goal is to play for time. Samvel didn’t notice the man that Ramiro sent to follow Claw’s wagon. I couldn’t get a message to the man, but my bound state and Samvel’s freedom was a clear enough warning. I presume the man has returned to the city to alert Ramiro of Claw’s betrayal.

I notice Samvel eyeing my body as we travel, and I encourage his stares. However, so far, he seems more inclined to spank my arse than have sex with me. He’s obviously the sort of man who likes the women he fucks to be docile and helpless. He rightly assumes that given the opportunity, I would rather kill him than fuck him.

My tightly bound arms, and my inability to do more than shuffle along, means that I periodically stumble and fall over. Samvel could solve the problem by lengthening the chain linking my ankles, but he continues to ignore my signals suggesting he does so. It seems that he would rather take the opportunity to add more colour to my bright red arse cheeks while I’m prostrate on the floor. At our current rate of progress, we aren’t going to reach the city today. I’m not sure how Samvel feels about that, but the longer I can delay our journey, the more likely Ramiro and his men can take action.