Master Wizard Tia'tha
Copyright© 2018 by Evilynn Thales
Chapter 18
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 18 - Rape/Torture Warning! This is a story about Tia'tha, the Master Wizard at a mage school. This story was originally based on Skyrim lore, but other than what a few things are called that's no longer true.
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa NonConsensual Rape Slavery Lesbian High Fantasy FemaleDom Humiliation Sadistic Torture Teacher/Student Slow Violence
Silence. Cold. Endless empty blackness.
I live in my memories.
Ernand holding me in his arms.
Lynn’s excited smile as she completes another challenge.
My family. Long dead, but never forgotten.
Aching, wishing I could cry, I lay there.
Cold. Endless blackness. Silence.
Silence except for ... something? A sound? Is my mind breaking?
Did I hear it? Another muffled sound. A nearly silent scrape.
Hope.
I don’t understand. What’s going on? Anything is better than this. I listen, and the sounds become louder.
Something thumps against my coffin. The Scraping and cursing music to my ears. I lurch with the coffin as someone drags it up.
Why is it so quiet?
Scraping. Grunting. Panting. Crickets.
Crickets? It’s night? That makes even less sense.
Oh...
Grave-robbers. Hope turns back into panic. I can’t move. What will they do?!
Oh...
A surge of hope clears my mind.
They are here to rob me. The ring. The necklace.
Grave-robbers will not miss them.
I won’t be buried alive ... A captive in my own body. Forever.
The eternal darkness will end. I will be free. I can die.
A quiet peace fills me. Soon, it will end. Just a little longer.
A voice hisses, “No, you idiot. We sprinkle the dry dirt on last. Do you want someone to wonder why the dirt looks different? We can’t leave a trace, or he will kill us.”
What?
A different voice says, “Why did you accept the job?”
“Do you want to refuse him?”, the first voice replies. “I’m not going to say no. Let’s deliver it and get our money!”
My coffin is flipped onto its side, and after a short struggle, I’m lifted and dropped. I hear wood scraping on wood. Sounds becoming muffled as something thumps and slides against my coffin.
A muffled voice says, “Hand me the hammer.” I lay there, trying to understand, and a hammer pounds nearby.
With a lurch, I begin to move. Rocking to the gait of a horse pulling a cart.
Eventually the rocking stops. I hear quiet voices. I don’t understand what they are saying.
My coffin sways as I’m moved to a new location.
The voices stop. Alone in the silence, I strain my ears. Listening for any sound.
Who are they so worried about?
Why would someone pay to have me exhumed?
No answers give me peace, and I wait in the darkness.
Hoping for freedom from the ring, and the final mercy of death.
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