Chapter 2

Kieron closed his eyes and tried to relax. His arms and legs hurt from the straps, and despite the soft padded leather, so did his abdomen. He heard the door behind him open, followed by a hand massaging his lower back. The elf Matron stood before him and touched his hair.

"Well, no welts, cuts, or burns. You must have been quite truthful to the Inquisitor." She sighed. "Unfortunately, I can't play with you like I want to." She tweaked his cheek. "You made a good impression on perhaps the most violent and sadistic Inquisitor in the Empress's service."

Inquisitor Hallia? Sadistic? He thought.

She sat in the chair vacated by the Inquisitor. She lit a cigarette and smoked it quietly, studying the restrained human. There was a sympathetic look in her eyes.

"Tomorrow you will taken to the Hall of the Magistrix, where your will judged. If you are fortunate, you will be sold quickly to a kind Mistress. If you are not, then I expect to see you again very soon." She finished her cigarette and stood. She motioned with a hand, and a pair of guards unstrapped him and helped him up.

"Put him in an isolation cell. The Inquisitors will be arriving for him tomorrow."

Kieron didn't resist as he was led out of the room and down into the mansion's basement. It was quiet, too quiet. He was pushed gently into a small alcove, made to crawl into a horizontal shaft. The shaft was padded on all sides, dark, with very little room to move. His ankles were locked into a set of stocks, with the stocks being used as the door for the cell. Hands tugged on his feet, fingernails teased the soles of his feet, and then he was left alone in the silent dark.

Kieron blinked at the sunlight. His wrists were bound behind him with leather straps, a leash attached to the collar around his neck. He kept his head down, partly to avoid the looks of the city's populous, partly to hide the blush that spread across his face. It was a difficult morning, being awoken as the sun was rising by the Inquisitors, allowed a rather short period to clean himself under their watchful gaze until it was time for a small meal. As he was finished it was time to leave. The Matron gave him a light kiss on the forehead with the blessings of her house. The city before him gleamed brilliant in the morning light, with the official buildings of the Capital sheathed in bright marble and the cobblestone streets of the city lined with lush trees. In the distance, on a hill that overlooked the small harbor that led to the Inner Sea, stood the Imperial Palace. More of a fortress than a palace, the current home of the Empress was walled with massive stone structures, with several towers spaced along the length that housed goddess-knows-what defenses. Of the city itself, it was ringed with many walls, each growing as the city expanded since the earliest days of the Founding. The Palace occupied the central ring, with the manors and keeps of the highest nobility occupying the second ring. The third ring held many of the buildings that housed the government of the Empire from the headquarters of the Imperial Military to the Halls of Justice, the destination of this journey. In all, it was very different from the city in which he grew up. Malakath was known in Aquilia as the City of Industry, and the as a result the city was perpetually coated in a thin coat of soot from the numerous forges that operated constantly. His father was an Artificer, a mage-engineer whose skills and knowledge promised to revolutionize both the art and craft of warfare. But both his father and mother never lived to see the unveiling of his masterpiece, they were both murdered when he was sixteen.

A pair of Inquisitors, one ahead of him, one behind, led him towards the Hall of the Magistrix. Both Inquisitors wore shapeless white robes that concealed everything. Only their arms were visible, encased in white leather. They were not wholly unsympathetic to him, pausing occasionally for him to catch his breath or to get a drink. There were occasional stares from the casual citizen, more often than not a male, but a few females gazed appreciatively at him. Life in the Capital was not what he expected. Men walked openly without being led on the end of a leash, and despite the fact that all were collared, they looked in no way oppressed or suffering a dire fate. An hour after they crossed the gates of the First Wall, he was walking nervously up the steps into the great hall. He was processed by a black robed woman, an officer of the Ministry of Justice, who then escorted him to the center of a large circular chamber with a raised padded platform with several straps dangling from it. He was made to kneel, his legs strapped apart with his wrists strapped to a spike at the back of the platform. His genitals were placed into a harness which made them seem plump and full, with the ensemble completed with a blindfold. He closed his eyes and prayed for it to be over.

A rapping of stone on stone jerked his attention back to reality. He tenses in his bonds, and then tried to relax.

"Kieron of Aquilia." A raspy voice spoke from a shadowed alcove above him. "You are charged with violating the borders of the Imperium, and willful destruction of Imperial property. What is your plea?"

Kieron took a deep breath. There was no way around any of this. "Guilty."

"So noted." The voice continued. "Let the record state that the human has entered a plea of Guilty. Are you ready to receive your sentence?"

"I... I am." Kieron stuttered.

"You will be taken to the main slave pens, where you will then be sold to the highest bidder. You will serve in such a fashion for a period of no longer than ten years, followed by a subsequent review of your case and performance. A satisfactory review will result in your upgrade of status from slave to bondsman. Serve us well, and you will be treated well. Thus ends this case."

He was quickly released from his bonds and led back out of the hall and to a large pavilion like structure a block from the hall. He was quickly handed over to the Mistress of Slaves and placed in a viewing cubicle, his arms and legs spread-eagled and a metal harness holding his mouth open for inspection. He closed his eyes to the poking and prodding by the many people who came by looking for slaves. His arms and legs ached after a time, and soon he found his cubicle rotating to place him on display for auction.

"Lot 12334322," The announcer spoke. "Human male, 25 years of age, excellent physical condition. Ten-year service period with Magistrix review. The bidding starts at 1000 gold marks."

The bidding became fierce. He half listened to the auction, trying to shut out the fate in store for him. He was let down so that the more enthusiastic buyers could touch and feel the merchandise. He offered no resistance to their probing, and knelt obediently before the auctioneer when ordered.

"I have a bid for 13,000 gold marks from Mistress Amber of House Draconis. Is there a higher bid? Going once! Going twice!"

"The Inquisition bids twenty thousand gold marks." A familiar voice echoed through the throng. Kieron wanted to look up, but resisted the urge and kept his eyes on the floor before him.

"I have a bid for 20,000. Do I have a bid for 20,500? No? Going once! Going twice! SOLD to the Inquisition for 20,000 gold marks."

Four Inquisitors strode down the isle, four white ghosts amongst a field of black. They circled the restrained human once, before one of them produced a set of white leather and steel cuffs. He was quickly retrained into the new cuffs; the black collar removed and handed to the auctioneer. His wrists were pulled behind him and locked together, and then he was escorted out. He kept his eyes down as they left the slave pens, and soon he was loaded onto an enclosed carriage followed by the four inquisitors. He knelt on the floor as they took seats surrounding him. They said nothing, but one of them produced a leather hood and pulled it over his head and buckled each strap tightly. A padded blindfold was added, stealing his sight. His ears were blocked off, rendering him deaf. Finally, a leather plug gag was teased into his mouth and locked in, removing his voice. He took deep cleansing breaths through the small tubes inserted into his nose, trying to relax and quell the growing anxiety. A kind hand stroked his back, but there was nothing to be said, only silence.

He felt a warm hand encircle his penis and begin to stroke him. There was only the sensation of the hand, no other sensory input was available, and it was maddening. The straps around his genitals prevented any full erection, and did not block the flow of blood, but it made for a very tight fit. The pressure eased somewhat as the hand withdrew, and he tried to stay conscious as sleep began to overtake him like a warm blanket engulfing his mind. His head came to rest on the leg of one of the Inquisitors, but he quickly brought himself back up to avoid any impropriety. A hand pulled his head back into the lap of the Inquisitor who he touched, and he surrendered to sleep.

<<Such a polite young human>> One Inquisitor sent to her sisters.

<<I agree>> Another replied. <<Well worth the price we paid for him>>

<<Are you sure he is the one we are looking for>> The third asked.

<<He is>> Inquisitor Hallia replied, stroking the leather encased head that rested in her lap. <<He will sire many strong daughters for us, and he will be very obedient to our desires>>

Kieron woke to find himself on a soft palette. The walls were dim, with small lanterns hanging on opposite ends of the door. He tried to rise, only to find his wrists and ankles strapped to the palette. The door opened, and a human woman in a plain frock brought a tray of food in. She said nothing as she set the food down on a small table besides the palette, and she left just as silently. A loud click freed his wrists and ankles, and he groggily arose to examine the meal. It looked and smelled better than found in many taverns in the Realms. But then again, most of the taverns in the Realms were self serve kill-it-and-cook-it. He ate quietly, savoring the thick stew and bread before returning to his palette and lying back down. He was confused by it all. The actions of the Inquisition did not at all meet with the thousands of rumors spread in the Realms. The door opened again and a pair of Inquisitors entered. One of them pointed to the floor at their feet, and Kieron quickly left the palette and knelt before them. One of them removed their hood and looked at him.

"Kieron of Aquilia, you will come with us. It is time for your claiming."

He rose as bid by the two Inquisitors, then led out of the cell and through a maze of corridors to a high domed chamber. At the center of the chamber on a platform was a cross like he had seen at the Matrons, only at a 45-degree angle. A circle of Inquisitors surrounded the cross, all silent. A smoking brazier sat by the cross, as did a covered table. He stumbled slightly, but the two Inquisitors held him up as he walked to the platform. He was greeted by another Inquisitor, this one dressed in the same white robes, but with a black and gold stripe decorating it. She led him to the cross and bade him lay facedown across it. He closed his eyes as his wrists and ankles were strapped to it, followed by this waist and thighs. His head hung down between the two upright sections of the cross. He heard the coals being stirred, followed by a cloth on the left ass cheek. He began to hyperventilate, his fear overriding all reason. A hand pressed against his lower back and stroked gently, and he found his fear receding.

"Take a deep breath." A voice spoke. He obeyed, just as the hot brand lanced his ass. He opened his mouth to scream, but found his voice gone. The brand felt like it had been attached for an eternity, but it was removed, the stench of burnt flesh rising like an offering to the gods. A cool cloth was applied to the brand and rubbed lightly. He heard the flutter of robes falling, and he felt a pair of breasts against his back.

"I told you that you would never be alone ever again..."

He closed his eyes as he was released and turned over to be strapped down face up.

"Look at me." Inquisitor Hallia ordered.

He opened his eyes to stare at the Inquisitor. She was dressed as he had seen her before, and in the darkness, he could see that the remaining Inquisitors were dressed in the same fashion.