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From: t'Sade <for-contact-email-look@tsade.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} {t'Sade} Puppy Mill [74/85] Trial of the Century (nosex)
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Date: Sun, 03 Mar 2013 19:10:01 -0500
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On her way to work, Merrie was kidnapped off the streets of Franome City by a 
thriban named Bass. It didn't take long before she found out her fate: to be 
broken, trained as a puppy sex slave, and sold to the highest bidder. But, 
what started as a journey of terror became something else when she found magic 
in her submission and a destiny that went far beyond a mere slave.

Puppy Mill 74: Trial of the Century
by t'Sade

The trial of Rakin would be stuff of legends. He is untouchable, he has 
everything planned down the last contingency. It wasn't a question of if he 
would escape life imprisonment or execution, but how.

(nosex)

**

Merrie slipped out of the Shadows and landed on the carpeted floor of the 
balcony. The deep pile cradled her knees like a blanket. It was soft and 
smelled of incense and dust. Around her, the heavily carved rails and walls 
created a sense of tension in the air, a stillness that would have driven her 
to silence even if she could talk.

It was dark on the balcony and everything had a thin sheen of dust over it. 
She could see through the shadows easily and looked around curiously. The 
balcony was large enough for six people to sit, but there was only two chairs. 
Both were large and well-padded, with heavily carved arms and legs depicting 
the World Tree and the royal seals. On both sides of each chair were matching 
end tables, covered in a few leather-bound books that showed no signs of being 
touched for months, if not years.

Merrie didn't know the place and she had no memory of it from her master's 
memory. Very few thieves ever made it to the Royal Courts and those who did 
were usually down on the main floor, with the judges passing sentence on them.

She crawled over the railing and peered down. The court hall was a large room 
arranged like a music hall. Five banks of a hundred chairs were spread out in 
a hemisphere with everyone looking at a stone platform in the center. In front 
of the platform was a large stone table wide enough for five judges to preside 
over court cases. The table glowed with protective magic and there was no 
subtlety in the runes that decorated it. It was a reminder that judges were 
untouchable, by magic or sword or psychics.

For minor crimes, which rarely made it to the Royal Court, only one judge 
would be sitting behind the table. For rulings that impacted the entire 
country or crimes against royalty, there would be five. For Rakin, three chairs 
were set out but no one sat in them.

About a third of the chairs surrounding the platform were filled. People sat 
reading books or working on notes. A few chatted among themselves with casual 
boredom. All of them were waiting patiently for the trial of the century: 
Rakin's. He was scheduled to appear in an hour, but those waiting wanted good 
seat to watch him weasel out of his crimes.

On the far side of the hall, Merrie spotted Kirin standing in a long jacket 
that was only buttoned enough to shield her cock from public view. Nir and 
Scorch sat behind her, lost in each other's eyes. Elf, Pristine, and Monk 
milled around, talking quietly to themselves.

Elf was wearing more clothes than Merrie had ever seen before, but the colors 
on the shirt and trousers were almost blinding. They looked like a thousand 
butterflies sewn together. And he still wore his wings.

Pristine wore a floor-length, sheath dress that she used for the days when she 
was an escort. It was a trifle fancy for court, but it looked good on her. It 
also had a slit up the side clear to her breasts that would let it be pulled 
open to expose as much as her customer wanted. The only thing that shielded 
her from indecency was a single black thread at her hips. Every time she 
moved, she gave tantalizing glimpses of her bare thigh and the curve of her 
bare sex.

The only one who dressed normally was Monk. The mage remained in his red robes 
and matching cloth over his eyes. He never changed, as far as Merrie could 
tell, but she didn't spend much time to know if he has a thousand identical 
outfits or somehow kept it clean in other ways.

Kirin ordered Merrie to remain out of sight and silent for the trial. After 
she was rescued, a court recorder illustrated the damage done to her. Two 
seers observed the process to certify it. But, the lawyers and Kirin both felt 
that Merrie's cropping would confuse the public, but not the judges. So, the 
illustrations of her bloody, beaten body would remain under seal and only seen 
by the judges to make their final decisions. And the perverts who managed to 
get into the sealed records.

Merrie was comfortable missing her hands and feet, but the others were afraid 
that she could come off as begging to be beaten and tortured. She didn't 
understand how the two were related, just because she was a whore and missing 
her hands didn't automatically mean she wanted to be raped and tortured. 
Though, in her case, the real problem was that the line between rape and 
consent blurred more than almost any living being in the city.

She blushed. The submissive part of her still craved Rakin's brutality or 
Tamin's ferocity. But, she was content to remain hidden. The shadows were her 
home and her name a secret. She crawled into the corner of the balcony and the 
railing and let the shade drape over her. She needed to watch, there was no 
way Kirin could stop her, but she could do it from an abandoned balcony above 
the trial.

As if sensing Merrie was thinking about her, Kirin suddenly looked around. 
Slowly, her gaze lifted as she scanned the balconies that surrounded the great 
hall. A moment later, her eyes slid past Merrie before she turned around. A 
moment later, she shrugged and returned her attention to Elf and Pristine. 
Sipping her glass, she stepped over and joined in the conversation.

"Natalie!"

Merrie looked up as a man and woman came rushing down the aisle toward Nir. 
She had seen them before, they were in Nir's nightmares since the day she ran 
away from home. Her mother, Dulcia, was in the lead, arms held out widely as 
if she was a loving mother desperately missing her girl.

//Nir screamed out into her pillow as her mother held her shoulders down. The 
woman's hands were twisted around Nir's nightgown, tightening it around her 
neck as she struggled to keep her down. "Come on, baby," slurred her mother, 
"just let your daddy show you a good time. He's going to make you a real 
woman. And then we can all be a happy family." The stench of alcohol was thick 
on her mother's breath and it burned the back of Nir's throat.//

//She tried to kick out as her father grabbed her ankles and forced them 
apart. Her tears were ignored as he crawled up between them, his cock already 
dripping with excitement.//

Merrie could feel the real reason behind Dulcia's desire to reconnect to her 
daughter. Dulcia had seen Nir as a nuisance and an embarrassment. She didn't 
miss Nir since she ran away and was thankful that she didn't have to care for 
the young girl. Even on the days she saw Nir huddling in the cold, coughing 
violently, she just smiled and continued shopping.

But, when Rakin's attack became news and the gossip burned across in the city, 
Natalie's name came up. Suddenly, the daughter that she couldn't wait to get 
rid of was famous. And Dulcia saw the opportunity to get her fifteen minutes of 
fame. She was already planning her tear-filled, dramatic speeches against the 
evil of the fallen count.

Merrie felt sick to her stomach. At least Rakin had just beaten and raped her. 
He was forward and honest with his desires. Dulcia, on the other hand, wanted 
to use her daughter for her own desires, just like letting her husband rape 
her daughter to rekindle their relationship.

"Oh, my baby girl! My poor baby girl!" Dulcia held out her hand as she rushed 
around the last few chairs. Her somber dress fluttered behind her and her heels 
clicked on the floor.

Nir saw her mother and cringed. With a whimper, she clutched Scorch's arm and 
ducked behind him. The fear radiating out from her mind sickened Merrie even 
more.

Gathering up her energy, Merrie started to craft a domination spell to get rid 
of the detestable woman.

Kirin looked up sharply at her, staring directly into Merrie's eyes. There was 
no question that the guild mistress could see Merrie despite the shade 
protecting her. Kirin shook her head once.

Merrie let the spell go, her heart thumping. She didn't think anyone could see 
her. But, the guild mistress surprised her more than a few times.

Kirin held up her glass of wine and winked. As Dulcia came rushing up, she 
stepped to the side to block the woman's path.

Dulcia skidded to a halt. She stood there for a moment, tapping her feet. When 
Kirin didn't respond, she tapped the taller woman on the shoulder. "Get out of 
my way, my daughter needs me."

Kirin turned to Dulcia, a glare burning in her golden eyes. Magic rose up from 
her body, an invisible wall of Presence. It surrounded the three guild members 
standing between Dulcia and her cowering daughter. "Excuse me? Your daughter?"

"Yes, my daughter." Dulcia pointed accusingly at Nir.

With a whimper, Nir jerked back behind Scorch. Her fingers dug into his arm as 
she shook her head. "No, no," she whimpered, "don't make me go with her."

Scorch patted her thigh comfortingly. Then, when that didn't work, he slid his 
hand up her thigh until she tensed. He pulled back and shifted his body so Nir 
could only see Dulcia over his shoulder through the haze of heat rising from 
his body.

Nir clutched to him tightly, her fingers white, and hid behind his body. The 
tears continued to roll down, splashing on his chest.

A pair of butterflies fluttered across the great hall to land on Elf's head. 

Kirin's face showed no expression as she glanced over at Nir and then back to 
Dulcia. "You mean Nir?"

"Her name," spat Dulcia, "is Natalie! Not that name you whores gave her!" Her 
voice rose up above the din and people looked up with confusion.

Nir's father looked around nervously. He was an older man with a sagging gut 
but a thick head of hair. Merrie had seen him a thousand time in Nir's 
nightmares, always looming over the girl as he forced her legs apart or her 
down to her knees.

Merrie pulled her lip back in a snarl. She wanted to do something after 
spending so many nights holding the young girl as she sobbed. But, Kirin 
glanced up at her before returning her attention to the offended woman in front 
of her.

"You mean," she said in a low voice, "the girl you raped?"

Dulcia blanched. "I did no such thing!"

Kirin swirled the ever-present glass of wine. "Really?" The corner of her lip 
rose up. She gestured to the stone platform. As she did, her coat opened up to 
reveal her nearly naked body hidden underneath. "Willing to prove it?"

"W-What do you mean?" The anger faltered for just a moment, a brief flash of 
honest in Dulcia's face.

"There's a truth spell up on that platform. One lie and it lights up. So, just 
walk up there and repeat what you just said. Tell everyone that you didn't 
hold her down on the bed as your husband raped her."

Dulcia glared at Kirin, her face growing purple with anger.

"You make that announcement," Kirin's voice was low but her anger was evident 
even to Merrie, "in a whisper if you want, and you can have your little girl 
back."

"I-I will do no---"

Kirin leaned forward. Merrie had to reach out with her senses, listening 
through Elf's ears to hear the whisper. "You don't deserve a wonderful 
daughter like Natalie. She is sweet and wonderful---"

"I know, she's my daught---""

"She's in the Guild now. If you come for her, Dulcia Mirson, you better come 
with lawyers and guards. I don't take ultimatums and I don't do threats. If 
you come for her, you better bring everything you have, from magic to the gods 
above. Because," she paused as Elf and Pristine shifted to stand behind her, 
"I won't hold back to defend my guild from people like you."

"Y-You... bitch...."

"And I promise you this: there will be blood and violence. And then I will 
drag your beaten body up to that platform and make you tell the whole world 
what you and that pathetic man did. And you won't be whispering when I do it."

Nir's father stepped back, his face pale. He shook his head before spinning on 
his heels and stumbling toward the door.

Kirin continued, her voice almost a hissing growl, "And that little moment of 
fame you want? That will come as you are chained to the wagon before being 
sent to Abbinkey."

Dulcia's slap cracked the air. She held her arm up and a tremor coursed along 
her body.

Kirin didn't even flinch with the red mark on her cheek. With a smile, she 
rested her fingertips on her cheek. "Honey, you're going to have to hit a lot 
harder if you want to get a rise out of me. I've fucked a demon horse on a 
bet."

"You bitch!" Dulcia reared back to strike again.

There was an explosion of air next to Kirin and Dulcia. The impact of it 
knocked over chairs and kicked up a cloud of dust. It raced along the hall. As 
the shock wave hit the pedestal, a shimmering wall of force speared up in a 
column of light. Almost instantly later, another shield appeared in front of 
the judge's table to protect the judges from the blast.

Merrie stood up, a spell rising in her mind in concern. From the shadows, 
Tamin stirred and stalked over in preparation to attack from the darkness.

When the dust cleared, there was a figure in full plate armor holding Dulcia's 
wrist with one gauntlet and a large-bladed spear in the other. The armor was 
steel etched to look like bark and colored dark green. Instead of the classic 
visor, it was a solid crystal plate with etching that resembled veins of a 
leaf. The armor had been shaped for a woman, with two rounded breasts and 
slightly wider hips.

Engraved on the chest was the symbol of Franome and on the forehead was the 
symbol of the Royal Army, the elite guards of the country and the most 
powerful combat mages known across the continent. Energy crackled along the 
armor and the power flickered in the green surface of her armor.

"Loyal Alestri says stop," said the warrior with a crystalline voice. It 
carried out over the din, instantly silencing the room. Merrie felt waves of 
Presence radiating from the fighter, an inescapable demand to pay attention to 
her command. She shivered as she felt the lure of power drawing her. She 
wanted to obey the woman, even knowing it was a mind control spell that forced 
her.

Merrie had never seen a Loyal, one of the highest ranks of knights in the 
country. At the bottom ranks were the Trusts and Vigilant, like Fang and Tai. 
They numbered in the thousands, but the Loyals in the country could be counted 
with one hand.

Dulcia yanked at her hand, trying to pull it out from the green steel. "That 
woman stole my daughter!"

Kirin pointed to the platform. "Go on, get up there. Just one little phrase 
and you can have her back." Unlike Dulcia, she kept her voice low. "I'm not 
stopping you, Dulcia."

"I want her arrested!" screamed Dulcia as she yanked her hand back. "I'm 
demanding full charges for kidnapping and abuse!"

Behind Merrie, the door to the balcony creaked open. She tore her attention 
away from screaming and tightened the shade over her. Pressing her body 
against the wall, she looked over her shoulder.

"Why does all the royal places smell nasty?" muttered a younger man as he 
pushed open the door. "Has anyone cleaned this place?" He was in his mid-
twenties, with a closely-cropped beard and bright blue eyes. He was dressed in 
a simple outfit of a embroidered button-down shirt and trousers. He was also 
wrapped in a field of Presence, but it felt different than anything Merrie had 
ever seen before. It didn't feel like magic but just a raw, almost physical, 
sense of leadership and entitlement.

"You'll get used to it, sire," said a bored-sounded older man. The second man 
was dressed in a black suit just one step from being made of pure Shadow. His 
shoes shimmered even in the dim light and he had a black tie neatly pressed 
against the line of buttons. He reached out for the door and took the handle; 
Merrie noticed he wore black kidskin gloves.

She recognized the younger man. It was one of the princes of Franome, Claston 
Pador. He was third in line for the throne behind his two sisters, Dinneia and 
Pitia.

//Her master and Rimmy were standing at the Claston's party along the wall 
where the candles left a flickering pool of shadows. Both watched the prince as 
he strolled through the crowds, flanked by two warriors in green plate armor.//

//Rimmy giggled and took a swig of her drink. "So, what did you steal?" Her 
voice was a bit slurred from too much alcohol.//

//"I got this," her master said as he brandished a bottle of wine. "Let's see, 
it's a... Yurik Gold 778. That's expensive right?"//

///Rimmy's eyes narrowed and then she was holding it. "Damn, that's 
impressive. On the market, it's about three or four thou."//

//He grinned. "Beat that, bitch." But his smile faded when Rimmy smiled 
broadly back.//

//"Really? Are you sure?" Rimmy licked her lips.//

//"What you'd steal? Come on."//

//"You're going to buy me something nice, right?"//

//He rolled his eyes. "Yes, if you win. And you're going to blow me when I 
beat you. But, come on. Show me."//

//With a flourish, Rimmy tossed him a piece of cloth. He caught it and looked 
at it, frowning for a moment as he tried to identify it. Flipping it cover, he 
caught the sewn flap on one side. "It... it's underwear."//

//"The prince's."//

//His hand shook for a moment. "How did you steal someone's underwear? That's 
not possible." He glanced over at the prince, watching carefully.//

//Claston continued to stroll across the room, raising his glass and watching 
the people swirl around him in their elegant suits and dresses. But, between 
one step and the other, he discretely adjusted his crotch and lifted his leg. 
He frowned and groped his crotch again, then looked up with a blush.//

//Rimmy stepped closer. "I want something expensive and dark. Something I can 
take into the Shadows with us," she kissed his ear, "Kine."//

//He shivered at his real name. She almost never used it, in fear someone was 
listened. Someone was always listening. His cock grew hard with his thoughts 
and the intimacy of her voice. "The..." He swallowed to continue talking, "The 
only thing that will go with us is shadow stone."//

//But, she had already faded into the darkness.//

"If we never use this thing, why do we keep it?"

The older man closed the door behind him. "Tradition," came the bored 
response. "We are also here because the Royal Family is the balance on the 
opposite side of the courts. Where they must follow the laws by the letter, 
the crown is the force that provides change when the letter no longer fits the 
crime."

"Boz," Claston said, "there were a lot of words in there and I didn't hear an 
answer I understood." He stretched and Merrie noticed that while he wasn't 
heavily muscled, the prince was lean and graceful. He had scars on his hands 
from fencing and she could sense protective magic coursing through his body. 
His shields, when she probed, was like hitting a brick wall.

"If you feel that Mard Rakin's punishment is too weak or too extreme, you have 
the right to change it as you see fit."

Claston stopped for a long moment, and then leaned against the carved wall. 
"Seriously? Doesn't that mean I can pardon anyone? Or have him executed?"

"Yes, sire. That is your right."

"Then why do we have the law?"

"For when royalty doesn't intervene."

He shook his head. "Why am I here then? Why isn't mum? I'm not even close to 
getting the crown. I can't handle this."

"The Crowned Queen is currently occupied with more pressing matters."

"You mean she's being eaten out by that army of servants that wear less 
clothes than my sisters. All those rug munchers in one room."

Boz paused delicately. "It would not do to be so crude in public."

Claston snorted and gestured to the empty balcony. "Public? No one is 
listening."

"Given your new duties," Boz pressed the door as if to make sure it was shut, 
"I highly recommend that you learn that your perceptions are not truth. There 
are always spies in the dark just as there are assassins around corners."

Merrie squirmed for a moment. The Shadows were always listening.

The prince snorted again. "You make it sound like I'm important, Boz. I'm not. 
I have two, very competent, sisters who will take the crown long before me. 
I'm just the little brother."

"Even the smallest nail can save the war."

Claston moaned as he circled around one of the carved chairs. He sank down on 
it. "That's Geot, isn't it?"

"Very good, sire. You weren't sleeping during that lesson."

Waving the dust from the air in front of his face, Claston thumped the 
cushion. Another cloud of dust rose up. "Maybe we should have them clean this 
place again."

"I will have it ordered, sire. But it will have to happen after Rakin's trial. 
Otherwise it would be... rude."

Claston leaned back, lifting his body enough to look over the back of the 
chair. "Then, grab me some wine? If I'm going to listen to Rakin's trial, I 
might as well be hammered."

Merrie smirked.

"The bulk of the investigations are over. This will be less than an hour."

"Make it two bottles. Something strong."

Boz bowed. "Very well, sire. Be safe." He turned and opened the door.

"Boz?"

The suited man stopped. "Yes, sire?"

"I don't have to say anything, right? Rakin can't ask me to, can he?"

Boz inclined his head as he stroked the side of the door. "It is his right to 
ask."

"What do I say?" Claston sounded frightened for a moment, "I've never done 
this. Mum never showed me. What if I screw up?"

"You'll do fine. Just trust yourself, sire. There is a noble prince in there... 
somewhere." Boz closed the door behind him.

Claston got up and thumped into the other cushion, coughing from the cloud of 
dust. "... there's a noble prince in me. Yeah, shut the fuck up." He sighed 
and glanced around the room. "There's no one here, Boz."

Merrie smirked as a thrill of watching rose up inside her. He couldn't see her 
and the rush left tingles coursing along her skin. She pressed her thighs 
together, feeling the heated moisture rising up from the sense of power. Her 
master did the same thing as he was growing up, stroking his cock as he 
watched the world passing by the shadows. Thousands of people unaware they 
were being watched.

She turned to peer back out the balcony. On the floor, Dulcia and the armored 
knight were not visible. The guild members were gathered around Nir, who sat 
on a chair with a pale face and tears streaming down her face. She was bent 
over her legs, holding her face. Her shoulders shook with her sobbing.

Scorch sat next to her, trying to hold her but he had a stricken look on his 
face. Merrie let her senses drift across his, not surprised by the rage and 
anger that boiled beneath his thoughts. He loved Nir with all his heart, but 
he couldn't say the words. And he hated that he couldn't stop her tears.

//"Scorchy-poo, trust me." Elf sat on the edge of Scorch's bed, his weight 
sinking the corner down as the large man batted playfully at the butterflies 
around him. His eyes were unfocused from the afterglow of submission and his 
hairy ass was red. "Just do it."//

//Scorch groaned and rubbed his eyes. He glanced over to the clock and then 
back to Elf. "It's two in the morning, Elf. Why is this important?"//

//Elf smiled and held up his fingers. A butterfly landed on it and began to glow 
red, casting the small room with a hellish glow. "Because she loves you. And, 
if you bothered to listen to your heart, you'd know it too."//

//As the words sunk in, Scorch felt very uncomfortable. "I don't know what 
you're talking about."//

//The larger man's eyes twinkled as he smiled at Scorch. "Yes, you do."//

//Scorch said nothing.//

//"Get her a ring and just ask. She won't say no. All of us know it, but that 
sweet girl needs you to ask."//

//"Can't you or Barrel just find me a good one? You're both good at the jewelry 
thing."//

//Elf stood up. A few butterflies flew off his shoulders and head and out the 
door. "It wouldn't mean as much if I did. Put your heart into it, Scorchy, and 
she'll set you on fire." He patted Scorch on the thigh and gave him a strong 
squeeze. "Just remember that and you'll be fine."//

//At the door, Elf stopped. "She does like rubies though."//

//"I thought she liked red gold."//

//Elf giggled. "The two go together, you know. Fire and sweetness. You might 
need to get a few lessons from Barrel though. To avoid getting rolled. The boy 
knows a lot about these things. And he has a lot of marks that are jewelers. 
He'll send you in the right direction."//

//"Elf?"//

//"Yes, cutie?"//

//"Why do you care?"//

//Another smile and a butterfly fluttered out the door. "Because I love both of 
you."//

Merrie smiled as the memories rolled through Scorch's head. She probed deeper 
and found that he had the ring in his pocket. It had been there for over a 
month. Every moment in silence, he agonized over proposing but he was afraid 
of the answer. It tore at him, but he struggled with his own fears.

Seeing Nir sobbing, Scorch wanted to do something. He knew that Kirin and the 
law wouldn't let him attack Dulcia. He wanted to burn her to the ground, to 
destroy her after what she did to her own daughter.

Merrie remembered her master as he fretted over the same decision. But, it was 
the shadow stone ring that he held in his hand instead of the golden ring in 
Scorch's pocket. She shifted slightly and her cloak plucked out the ring, 
holding the pitch black up for her to see. Every time she looked at it, she 
was swarmed with memories of that night. The ring was love and passion and 
death and horror. She smiled and kissed it before putting it back.

Turning her attention back, she watched as Scorch was torn watching his love 
sobbing in front of him. She knew the answer like she did for her own master. 
With a soft though, she let it drift through his mind. (She won't say no.)

Scorch jerked. Blanching, he looked around sharply.

"Scorchy?" Elf whispered as he came closer. "Are you okay?"

"I-I'm..." Scorch was torn. He wanted to propose right then and there, to 
erase the horror of Nir's mother and to prove he was going to be there for 
Nir, for the rest of their lives. But, it wasn't romantic, it wasn't the 
perfect time. He looked up and noticed Kirin discretely watching him.

"Scorchy?"

Scorch looked at his friend helplessly. He toyed with the ring in his pocket, 
caressing over the ridges. It was set in the design of a flower that reminded 
him of one that Nir wore the first night they had dinner together.

Elf turned to his back was to Nir and leaned over to Scorch. He kissed 
Scorch's shoulder. There was a faint smile on his lips. "Just think of it as 
the first time you blew someone. Just, take a deep breath and swallow."

Scorch glared at Elf who blew him a kiss. Taking a deep breath, he stepped 
away from Elf and up to Nir.

Nir lifted her eyes up to him, tears still running down her cheeks. "Why did 
she come back? I don't want to go home. She can't make me, can she?"

He fumbled with the words for a moment, his stomach twisting and knotting 
inside him. With tears in his own eyes, he pulled out the ring and knelt down 
in front of her.

Her mouth opened in shock as she stared.

"Y-You don't have to ever go back to her."

Pristine let out a soft gasp and Elf began to cry loudly.

"Nir, my Nir, will you---"

"Yes," she whispered.

Scorch blushed. "Um, could I finish?"

Nir was sobbing again, but there were tears in her eyes. "O-Okay."

"Will you..." He had a thousand things he wanted to say, all of them more 
poetic when they were in his head. He couldn't say them. His throat was dry 
and his mind empty. With a groan, he said, "Fuck it. Marry me?"

"Y-Yes, of course," she whispered as she threw herself into his arms. The ring 
fell out of Scorch's hands but Pristine caught it before it hit the ground. 
She flipped it over and discretely set it down on Nir's arms, not the girl 
noticed as she peppered Scorch's face with kisses.

The other members of the guild were smiling and Elf was bawling with 
happiness. He grabbed a butterfly fluttering around him and used it as a 
handkerchief before grabbing another.

Merrie smiled and felt sympathetic tears welling in her eyes.

"Fuck me," said Claston only centimeters away from Merrie. He leaned over the 
railing as he stared. "Did someone just propose? In the Royal Court? 
Apparently the guy hasn't heard of romance. Maybe he's Rakin... no, he would 
be in chains. No..." his voice trailed off as he leaned on his elbows and 
peered over the railing. His eyes, a bright brown, grew unfocused. A moment 
later, he snapped his fingers and he gasped. "Scorch!" He beamed to himself. "I 
remember now. That means that the girl is Natalie Mirson. No magic skills 
herself but she ran away from home a few years ago. And Rakin tried to kidnap 
her but she was rescued by... someone." He chuckled. "Mum makes it look so 
easy." He stood up with a broad smile. "Okay, so if that is Scorch and Nir, 
that would be... Pristine, a former royal guard." His eyes came into sharp 
focus. "Fuck, I remember her. She used to be one of mum's. Damn, she's still 
hot."

Merrie glanced up at the prince and back down. Nir was still kissing Scorch 
but the others were getting anxious to congratulate both of them. Merrie 
worried her lip for a moment and then send a brief thought toward both of them 
to remind them that others wanted to join in the celebration.

Nir jerked and looked up. "Oh, I'm sorry." She pulled herself free and flung 
herself at Kirin. "Thank you!"

Scorch, face as red as his flames, stood up. And then yelped as Elf grabbed him 
in a bear hug and picked him off the ground. He tried to hug Elf back, but the 
large man was spinning him around and squealing.

"Lucky bastard," muttered Claston, "at least he gets to choose who he loves. 
I'm betrothed to a woman who won't come of age for another year." He turned 
toward Merrie as he headed for his chair, but then stopped.

Merrie felt a tingle of fear course along her skin, as if something was poised 
to attack her. She lifted her attention up to see Claston staring directly at 
her. With a gasp, she realized her shade had somehow dropped with her 
concentration on Scorch's internal struggle to propose. She yelped and drew 
the shadows around her, stepping across with a frantic burst of energy.

The shadow of Claston stumbled back, falling to the ground. She couldn't hear 
him but she could tell he was yelling out for help. His hand flailed around, 
protecting against an attack that never came.

There was an explosion of energy as the armored knight appeared in the room. 
The protective energies of the armor were visible even in the Shadows. It 
warped the darkness and peeled it back with a golden flame in the shape of the 
armor.

Merrie's heart thumped painfully in her ears as she watched the knight inspect 
the balcony. Energies flared around her as her visor glowed. And then the woman 
was looking into the Shadows. The visor was pure white and a beam of energy 
stretched out like a spear.

Terrified, Merrie ducked through the wall as the light swung toward her. It 
pierced the shadows and even cut through the walls and floor. Merrie threw 
herself underneath it and held her breath as it cut through the dark above 
her.

A moment later, the female knight's vision came swinging back but a meter 
higher. Merrie whimpered as she cowered against the shadows of another chair 
in the adjoining balcony. She clutched the side as she watched the magical 
vision spread out for a moment before fading away.

(Are you safe, Alpha?)

Merrie trembled as she stared at the wall. She couldn't see into the balcony 
with the prince, but her brush with the knight had knotted her stomach. She 
felt sick and wanted to throw up. (Y-Yes, but I need to move.)

Tamin sent an image of another balcony on the far side of the hall. (This 
appears to be abandoned.)

Glancing back, Merrie transformed into a hound and raced around the upper floor 
of the court hall, past dozens of doors leading to privacy balconies before 
she came up to the one Tamin pointed out. Stepping through the door, she 
looked around before letting out a long sigh of relief.

Tamin panted from the corner. (You smell like prey.) He was amused and his 
thoughts were tinged with lust.

Merrie crawled over and licked his face before returning to her human form. 
She settled down next to his form and let the Shadows fade away. The second 
balcony wasn't as comfortable as the first, but the hard floor felt safer than 
being near the prince.

She watched the knight and the prince as they spoke for a moment. Then the 
knight guided the prince out of the room. Merrie shook her head and leaned 
into Tamin. (That was close.) She giggled.

(I'll protect you.)

(I'd rather not find out what an Alpha and her shadow hound could do against 
one of the most powerful fighters in the country. Best to run away.)

(Why aren't you still running?)

Merrie looked down at the balcony. The seats were almost filled. Two of the 
judges, both older men, were already sitting. The third second, on the right, 
remained empty. Four guards, all in green armor, stood surrounding the 
pedestal. None of them were the royal guard, but they were still impressive-
looking. (Because of Rakin.)

"Listen, Boz," the prince's voice came drifting through the door and Merrie 
tensed, "I'm telling you, it wasn't an assassin. I mean, she was naked! And 
she was... on her hands and knees. No... she didn't have hands. I mean, I 
didn't see hands."

"Loyal Alestri is quite insistent. We will quietly move, sire, and maybe not 
attract any attention. I have notified the seneschal of our new location, but 
he will keep secrets." Their voices grew softer as they walked past the door.

Merrie let out a sigh of relief.

The door to a balcony two down opened and Claston shuffled in. With a mutter, he 
sank down on the chair. "At least these aren't dusty."

"Your wine, sire. But, if you are seeing things, I recommend---"

"Thanks, Boz. Go away," snapped Claston.

"Yes, sire."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything stupid."

A moment later, the door squeaked as it opened. "Um, sire, you're about to 
have guests."

"Guests? Who?"

"Baron Falon, loosely affiliated with Rakin's properties in the south and a 
well-known horse racer. And then many others."

"Falon? What does he want?"

"I'm guessing to request you pardon Rakin."

"Why? Why would he ask."

"Influence and favors, the blood of politics. Mard Rakin still retains a great 
deal of power in this world and many are looking to choose sides. Being 
responsible for his safety would give some basis for Rakin owing Falon a 
favor."

Claston swore under his breath. "Are there going to be a lot of these?"

"I suspect about thirty or forty of them in the next hour."

"Is this why mum isn't here, right?"

"See? Already learning your new role. Don't worry, the Loyal is outside the 
door. If anyone gives you trouble or if you see any puppy girls---"

"She wasn't a puppy, Boz. I mean... what?"

"Sorry, sire. You mentioned a naked woman with dogs ears and a tail. There are 
some nobility that have an interest in that specific fetish. It is called pet 
play and there are a number of groups here in the city that find that... 
appealing."

Claston chuckled. "Is that your thing?"

"No, sire, the only pleasure I get comes from serving the Royal Family 
greatest son and prince of the realm." And then the door shut with the finality 
of an ended discussion.

"Pervert," said Claston with a laugh, "probably was jacking off when I was 
skinny dipping at age eight."

Merrie smirked and her tail wagged back and forth. She didn't think she would 
like the prince, but he seemed to have a sense of humor. And she was surprised 
he knew who Pristine and Natalie where.

Less than a minute after Boz left, there was a knocking on the door for the 
prince. It creaked open a few seconds later and the baron introduced himself. 
Merrie rolled her eyes at the baron's language. It was flowery and thick, 
saying something in a thousand words where three would have done. She knew 
what he wanted, she could feel it in his thoughts, but it took him almost ten 
minutes to request the prince to pardon Rakin. The baron took another ten 
minutes to discretely offer the prince tens of thousand marks and "choice 
deals" with the baron's associates.

As soon as the baron left, there was another knock. Merrie's ear perked up as 
the next visitor came and did the same thing Baron Falon did. The words were 
different as were the request, to have Rakin executed but in hundreds of words. 
Promises of elegant parties for the prince were floated around him before the 
supplicant slipped away.

More men and women came. Some wanted to see Rakin back in power, others offered 
millions for Rakin to disappear forever. But, as unexpected was the blatant 
requests for Rakin's fate, it was the prince that surprised her.  Claston, 
when in front of people, became a new person. His words were smooth and 
eloquent. He spoke with a grace that managed to say all the right words but 
somehow managed to agree to nothing.

(He could put the Shadows to shame,) projected Tamin, (he is impossible to pin 
down. There is more to him than a childish mind.)

(And a young body.)

(He would squeal if I mounted him,) came the playful response along with an 
image of Claston bent over the balcony with Tamin pounding his cock with a 
huge cock.

A bell rang out across the hall and Merrie held her breath. The three judges 
were in place, the final one being a female Sivlir silfae with long gray hair. 
Eight guards protected the pedestal and another eight for the judges. The room 
was packed, with people standing on the sides, but it was silent.

Rakin walked from the side door surrounded by two royal knights. He wore only 
a loin cloth, bare to the eye of justice as the tradition went. The half month 
since she had seen him had taken their toll on his frame. He was thin, almost 
skeletal, and his eyes were dark and inset. Bruises covered his skin and his 
ribs were visible underneath his stretched skin. His ruined arm shook 
violently in the adamantite manacles that bound his wrists together.

The silence in the hall was punctuated by the scuff of his bare feet. A storm 
of emotions rose up as people saw the formerly powerful count being lead to 
the pedestal. There was anger, rage, and pity. She felt disgust and glee 
swirling around as everyone was lost in their own opinions of the broken man.

He walked up the stairs for the platform and turned to the judges. With a deep 
breath, he stood up straight.

"Mard Rakin," said the center judge, "you stand before us accused by an 
anonymous member of the Companion's Guide of Franome---"

Kirin stood up and put her hands behind her back.

"---proxied by Guild Master... Mistress Kirin. How do you plead to accusation 
of kidnapping by the proxy?"

Everyone held their breath as they stared at Rakin. Everyone knew he would 
refute the accusation. Almost all of the crimes were against an anonymous 
whore, no one of note in polite society.

Merrie tensed at the thoughts. She could feel the disgust and disbelief aimed 
toward her, despite that no one knew who she was. They saw Kirin as trying to 
destroy Rakin, but too cowardly to bring forth the person who Rakin supposedly 
kidnapped, raped, and tortured.

He stood straight on the pedestal and took a deep breath. Merrie could feel 
his thoughts as he struggled with fear, pride, and determination. Almost every 
emotion washed across his thoughts except one, anger. He closed his eyes for a 
long moment, then opened them to stare at the judges. His body trembled as the 
words rose up.

"Guilty."

The room exploded into surprise. People stood up shaking their hands, yelling 
at the top of their lungs. They were yelling at Rakin, the judges, and Kirin.

The lead judge stood up and held out his hands for silence. When that didn't 
work, he banged a stone block against a striking board. It ran out across the 
hall, magnified by illusionary magic, but still the noise didn't die down.

Merrie stared in shock at Rakin. It was the last thing she expected him to 
say.

An explosion of air caught her attention. It was the royal knight that almost 
caught Merrie. Before the air rippled away, she slammed her spear down on the 
ground and bellowed at the top of her lungs. "Loyal Alestri says SILENCE!" Her 
voice slammed into the room, cutting through the din, but it was powered by 
the strongest domination spell Merrie had ever seen. It exploded from the 
royal knight, freeing the throats of everyone as it exploded out from her. As 
one, those crying out sat down heavily in their chairs.

The spell slammed into Merrie and she was overwhelmed with the force of the 
command. Her body spasm from an intense orgasms and she struggled to keep the 
pleasure inside her. The words echoed endlessly in her head, freezing her 
throat as if she had been gagged.  She couldn't whimper or even whine. Her 
throat refused to move with the command forcing obedience. She cried out 
silently as flames ran along her veins, searing her from tip to ankle.

The resulting silence was painful.

Rakin turned to the knight. "Thank you."

Alestri turned and even though her face wasn't visible, Merrie could almost 
see the glare.

The lead just cleared his throat. "Mard Rakin, please repeat your response."

"Guilty." Rakin's fear spiked inside him, swirling around him as he 
contemplated his future.

"You are accused of torture by the proxy, how do you plea?"

"Guilty."

Merrie shook as she listened to Rakin responding to guilty to every crime the 
judge brought up. She couldn't speak with the echoes of the domination spell 
ringing out in her head, but she didn't know what to do. She expected Rakin to 
scream and fight with tooth and nail. She remembered how he refused to give up 
at the fair when he tried to purchase her, the single-minded obsession that 
drove him to abandon his title and sanity in his quest for her.

The man standing on the pedestal wasn't Rakin, but she knew it was. His mind 
was clear of all anger and rage. She had broken him just as he broke her, but 
where she recovered in a few weeks, there was no healing the burned out husk 
in his head. He had been beaten.

She felt sadness for the man who haunted her. She was so terrified by him, but 
now he was the one without the power. There was nothing left in his life, no 
magic flowed through his veins and his mind was clear of the very nature that 
fueled his life.

//Borias nodded. "They all did. We call them spit muffins and I be a cannibal. 
Me magic," he held out his hand, "and me lusts are the same. I need their 
desire, I need them to want it. But," he looked away toward his cooking area, 
"I also be needing them to die. And I be needing to cook and be eating 
them."//

//She shuddered at the thought. She could almost feel the same desire, a 
hunger to feel the knife against her throat. It was different than Grange. 
Borias would love her, touch her, make her cum, and then end it in one 
single---//

Merrie looked away sharply, her tail snapping with her emotions. Tears burned 
in her eyes. Rakin's power came from anger, just as Borias came from 
cannibalism and she gained power from submission. But, she had taken away 
Rakin's magic just as a geas stole Borias'. Borias had a chance, though rare, 
that he would be pardon, but as she looked into Rakin's mind, she knew he 
would never feel magic on his fingertips again.

She wanted to cry out, to scream for him to stop. To beg him to rise up with 
anger, to fight with the last of his life. But, her throat refused to move. She 
couldn't make a sound with the domination spell still echoing in her mind.

The rest of the room quickly shed off the royal knight's command. After a few 
minutes, whispers started to rise up. Two balcony over, the steady stream of 
petitioners resumed. The bribes grew more extravagant and the requests more 
desperate. Rakin's acceptance had set off a wild fire among the powers that 
ruled the city with politics and relationships.

She watched Rakin standing on the pedestal, calmly agreeing to every crime he 
was accused of. She hated every word and flinched as he spoke.

When the judge finished with what he did to her, the judges brought up Natalie. 
The young girl was trembling with fear as she stood there, unable to look at 
Rakin and terrified that she was standing in the Royal Courts. But, just like 
the earlier accusations, the fallen count refused to deny anything. He just 
repeated the same word over and over again: guilty, guilty, guilty.

At the prince's balcony, there was another knock.

"Come on," muttered Claston, "stop asking for favors. I don't need any more 
parties, money, or naked women!" He groaned and opened the door and his voice 
instantly turned to the flowered smoothness of his public persona. "Yes?"

"Excuse me," Merrie froze as she heard Jacir, "sire, could I please have only 
a minute of your time."

"Of course," Claston's speech was back to the false joy that he used with the 
petitioners. "Come on in. You're Baron Pollium, right?"

"Yes, my lord."

Claston chuckled. "Don't let Boz hear that. You're suppose to call me sire or 
highness."

"S-Sorry, my sire."

"Close enough. Come on in, you're shaking as hard as a leaf. I don't bite, you 
know."

"I-I've never done this, but I... I have no choice."

Merrie reached out with her mind. Fear and nervousness burned in his mind, 
along with flashes of Pris and Merrie acting as his fianc�. She calmed his 
thoughts, smoothing down the fear and letting him take a breath before he 
spoke.

Jacir calmed down almost instantly. He looked up at the prince and said, "I'm 
not a man of fancy words or of great means. But, if you have a chance, I would 
humbly... request, that if Rakin asks for pardon, you understand that he hurt 
a lot more than the people accusing him today. I would never insult the 
highness by asking for something specific, but I have no other recourse."

Claston said nothing for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"He murdered my fianc� almost twenty years ago."

"Murdered?"

"Yes, raped and tortured before he cut her throat." Jacir fought back a sob. 
He struggled with the words. "B-But it was in Blood County and he was in his 
legal right. But, I love her with all my heart. And I made a promise to the 
old baron that I would do anything to... to... for her memory."

"Hold on. I remember that in the books. Marcus Pollium willed his title to 
you, after his wife and daughter died. That was... about twelve years ago, 
wasn't it?"

Merrie got up. Moving with silence, she slipped into the Shadows and crossed 
the distance to the other balcony. Slipping down, she wrapped the shade spell 
tightly over her body and kept to the shadows of the carved railing.

Jacir sniffed and wiped his face. He was wearing his finest outfit. It was the 
same he wore to the day he was given the title and the memories burned 
brightly in his thoughts. "Patrica killed herself after we found out Pris had 
been killed. It was her idea to let this... evil man turn her into a puppy 
slave and then have me---"

Claston jerked as he sat up. "Puppy? You mean a puppy girl with a tail and 
ears?"

Blanching, Jacir nodded. "Y-Yes. And he cut off her arms and legs."

Standing up sharply, Claston rushed over to Jacir, stopping only a few 
centimeters away. He grabbed Jacir's hands and held them tight. "Did she have 
white hair and a silver tail? With bright blue eyes? She's real!?"

Confused, Merrie looked up at her hair. She never realized but it was almost 
white, just like her tail. Something had bleached out the blonde until it was 
almost the purest white.

"No, that's Bitch." Jacir blushed hotly and looked away. "She isn't Pris. Pris 
had brown hair and was... curvier. She died but we never recovered her body, 
but I swear she doesn't have silver hair.."

Merrie cringed at someone naming her. Even though it was just a title, it was 
another anchor, a pin that kept her shadows from shifting.

"Oh," Claston stepped back with a frown on his face. He gestured across the 
court hall to his original balcony. "I thought I saw... someone in the 
shadows."

Jacir's cheeks were red. "If you're talking about Bitch, she has a tendency to 
appear when you aren't looking. Even in locked rooms. She is very discrete---" 
He stopped in mid-word and clamped his mouth shut for a moment. "I'm sorry, 
sire."

"Really? And her name is really Bitch?"

"I didn't mean to be so forward with his highness."

Releasing Jacir, Claston stepped away. "Sorry, it's been a strange day. So, 
you're asking for...?"

Jacir clasped his hands together. "Just to think of my Pris if he asks."

"I assume you're offering... you're a textile merchant. Clothes? A suit?"

"No, your highness, I wouldn't offer a bribe. That isn't my place and I'm not 
comfortable with fancy words. But, if you want something in return, I'll give 
you anything you want. My title as a baron if his highness wishes."

With a gasp, Claston turned back. "You'd give up that? Why?"

"Marcus willed it to me in hopes that I would be able to do something for 
Pris. And to continue his line. If Rakin is appropriately punished, even if it 
isn't for my Pris, then I'm willing to put myself in the poor house. A title 
doesn't mean anything if you can't cherish your loved ones."

The prince stared for a long moment. "No, I guess you can't."

For a long moment, neither said anything. Then, Claston looked up and waved 
him away. "You can go now."

Jacir bowed deeply, despair choking his thoughts. "I'm sorry for taking your 
time, sire. Thank... thank you."

Merrie watched as Jacir stepped out of the room and closed the door. She 
followed, using the Shadows to pass through the door. On the other side, she 
watched as Jacir leaned against the wall and began to sob. The tears poured 
out from his fingers as he slid down the ground. "Pris, Pris... I tried, love. 
I really tried."

Tears burned in her eyes as she crawled over to him. Spreading the shade over 
both of them, she nestled against him.

Jacir looked up with a sharp jerk, then sniffed. He gave her a sad smile. "I 
was just talking about you."

Merrie smiled and bumped her head against his head.

He lifted his arm and pulled her close, pressing her naked breast against his 
thigh. "I tried, Pris. I really did, but what else can I do? I'm not rich like 
Falon or any of those guys. What can a merchant's son do?"

She stroked his thigh with one arm. Her tail curled around his back, following 
the line of his spine. She knew it gave him comfort, when she couldn't give 
him anything else.

"I-I think, after all this, I might need to hire you a few more times. Is that 
okay? I miss her so much right now."

Panting silently, she lifted her head and brought her lips to his. Her body 
felt hot and slick as she kissed him. And, as she broke the kiss, she barked 
silently, her lips moving against his own. She still couldn't make a sound, 
not with the Loyal's command echoing in her mind.

Jacir smiled. "Thank you, Bitch."

He held her for a few minutes, but then a bell rang out. The clear tones shook 
the hallways and rattled the doors. Jacir looked up and then struggled to his 
feet. "I better go, that means they are about to pass judgment on him." He 
straightened his shirt and wiped the tears from his face. "Thank you."

She smiled and wagged her tail. She wanted to bark, but she couldn't make a 
noise. The domination spell still held her throat in silence.

As soon as he turned away, she stepped back into the Shadows and dove through 
the wall. Coming out on her own balcony, she landed next to Tamin and peered 
down into the hall.

The court hall was silence except for a few coughs. Rakin stood on the 
pedestal, but everyone else was sitting down. The three judges were missing 
but their chairs were tilted as if they would come back in mere seconds.

Minutes passed and Merrie felt the tension in the hall. Even though Rakin 
didn't contest a single charge, there was always the possibility that the 
judges would give him a lighter sentence. She could hear the thoughts of most 
of the room waiting for the judges to forgive him due to some hidden deal that 
would never see the light of the day. Corrupted judges were a part of life in 
Franome City.

It was almost a half hour before the three judges came out. They stood in 
front of their seats. The lead judge spoke. "Mard Rakin, we have judged you 
guilty before the eyes of justice and the laws of this country."

The crowds started to stir, but Loyal Alestri slammed her spear down and the 
room grew silent.

The judge continued, "You have not contested any of the accusations, is this 
correct?"

"No," Rakin said, "I don't deny anything. I'm guilty of everything you brought 
before me." His voice was broken and rough, but calm.

"Then we sentence you to death by hanging to take place no longer than 
noon---"

"Hold on!" Claston's voice carried out over the hall. People looked up in 
surprise, first to where he was suppose to sit and then turning until they saw 
the prince hanging over the railing. He pulled back and spoke over his 
shoulder. "Wait, Boz, I'm allow to stop it, right?"

"You already have, sire," came the deadpanned response, "I recommend you 
continue forward before you really embarrass yourself."

Claston turned and pointed to Rakin. "Why are you giving up?"

The whispers grew louder. Some were confused and others were impatient, but 
everyone was stunned that the prince had interrupted.

Rakin turned to face the prince, his chains rattling. "I'm sorry, your 
highness, but this is how it must be."

"The Mard Rakin that people talk about in whispers and in legends is not on 
that pedestal."

Rakin shrugged and gave a weak smile.

"Everyone knows about you. You've been a hero for three generations. In my 
classes, they made me study your strategy when you defended this country 
against the armies of Blood River, destroyed the Thrice-Fold Prince of Storms, 
and even destroyed the Lich-Queen from Belife."

"That was my first wife, sire."

"Yes, but you still destroyed her. There is six songs written about that 
alone. I had one of those at my sixteenth birthday."

Rakin shrugged again.

Claston leaned further over and pointed again. "So, why is the infamous Mard 
Rakin rolling over without a fight?"

Bowing his head, Rakin spoke clearly. "Because she won."

"Who?"

"Her name isn't important. And I will honor her attempts to stay in the 
shadows."

Merrie flinched again. She was afraid someone would call out her name after 
being singled out as Rakin did. She closed her eyes, afraid to hear the words 
that came next.

Claston shook his head in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Rakin lifted his eyes. There was no anger in his gaze as he stared up at the 
prince. "It takes a strong man to break his opponents, but it takes a broken 
one to lose. In the three centuries that I've been walking this country, I 
have destroyed more lives than you have ever known. I took great pride in not 
killing them, but ruining them to the point their shattered morals and minds 
could no longer recover."

"T-That," said the prince, "isn't exactly something to be proud of."

"But, you sang of me, didn't you? When the Warlord was destroyed, people 
cheered me as I led an army into Blood River and killed every single living 
silfae in those woods. When the assassins attempted to kill your own father, 
they made songs of my efforts to hunt down every living relative of those two 
men and kill them."

Claston, and many people in the hall, looked uncomfortable.

"Your highness, my obsession is what made me a legend. But, even with Emberka 
poised to wage war on our country, there are no more battles for me to fight. 
So, I found other obsessions to keep me up at night. For sixteen years, it was 
a bitch owned by a man who pretends to be evil. I bought her, like a common 
dog, but she ran away. She ran back to him."

As Merrie listened to his speech, she was haunted not by his words but the 
dispassionate tone, the calmness that he addressed a man capable of killing 
him with a flick of his finger.

"I won that fight. I brought an army and broke him. But, I didn't kill the 
thief. He was a man who gained power with promises, so I broke his oaths. He 
promised not to let blood spill on the ground, I spilled his. I promised to 
protect the women he had turned into slaves and dogs. I broke that promise."

"How?" asked Claston.

Rakin flinched but continued. "I tortured them so he could hear their screams. 
I raped them until he begged for me to stop. I pressed their broken, bleeding 
bodies against his chest and cut their throats so he would be stained by their 
blood. I broke that man until he begged for death. I heard him pray to a 
goddess who abandoned him and laughed when no answer came."

Merrie glanced through the railing at Claston. The prince was pale and 
clutching the railing with white knuckles. She shivered at the images that 
came welling up from Rakin's mind, of the very things he did to Bass so many 
years ago.

"You killed women."

"They were bitches. Kidnapped and broken, nothing more than animals."

"You mean like Pris Pollium?"

Below the balcony, a sob rose up from the seats. Merrie peered down to see 
Jacir crying into his hands. People next to him were staring at him with shock 
and confusion, but he didn't care. He peeked up at the prince, tears pouring 
down, and fought to quiet himself.

Rakin frowned and shook his head. "I don't know---"

Merrie reached out for Rakin, pouring in every memory of Jacir had of Pris 
into his head.

The former count jerked and then sighed. (I knew you were here, Merrie.) To 
the prince, he nodded. "Yes, even Pris Pollium. I remember killing her."

A gasp of shock rippled through the court until Loyal Alestri struck her spear 
again.

Cringing, Merrie pressed her self against Tamin. Rakin's words echoed in her 
head for a moment, devoid of any anger or hatred. It echoed in her mind, 
intimate and close. There were no shields between them anymore.

"So why aren't you fighting back?"

"Because, I lost. I thought I would break her like all of my other opponents, 
destroy everything in her life. That girl," he pointed to Nir who cringed, 
"that man, and that one, and that one," he pointed to Scorch, Elf, and then 
Kirin. "I was going to kill them to get to her, to break her. I was going to 
take Natalie with me to break in front of her because she would do anything to 
save the teenager."

Nir whimpered and shook her head. Her lips moved silently as she sobbed.

Scorch's face was a mask of rage and the heat rose around him.

Moving gracefully, Kirin rested a hand on his shoulder and shook her head.

Rakin continued without faltering, "She was nothing more than a bitch, the 
Bitch when you think about it. She should have been helpless. She should have 
obeyed every command I gave her, I knew what I was doing. I had the spells, I 
had the defenses, I knew her more than she knew herself. There was no way she 
could have resisted. But," Rakin sighed and looked a century old for a moment, 
"she found a strength where others would have broke."

He looked down and swallowed hard. "She defeated me. You see, your highness, 
there is nothing you can do to me that she hasn't done already. Kill me? I'm 
already dead inside. Torture? For three days she raped me as I raped her. The 
healers couldn't save my manhood and I will never fuck again. Even if I could 
get it hard, it would be agony. I have no anger left, I have no hatred. There 
is nothing inside left to keep living, but I can't even kill myself because I 
know she won't let me. In the end, I have nothing to fear because she has done 
what I have done to a thousand others."

"You fear nothing from me?"

Rakin shook his head. "No, but I think it is fitting that my life be destroyed 
when I lose. Just as I destroyed the lives I defeated, I insist that she do 
the same to me. But, she would never do it herself, so I took it upon myself 
to finish the job." (Merrie.)

Merrie tensed at his voice. (What?)

(You have no reason to trust me, but I promise what I say is true. I owe you 
something, the prize for the victor.)

//He held the adamantite collar in his fingers, anxious for the day he would 
clip it around Merrie's throat and make her his Alpha forever. Soon she would 
be his. He set it down on the velvet and closed the box. Setting it into a 
safe hidden behind a set of cages, he whispered the words to seal it shut.//

(The magic in that collar is keyed to you and only you. It will not work for 
anyone else and it never will. But, if you put it on, you will be bonded to 
the owner of the collar. Take it. Take it and destroy it. Or find a good 
master, one who loves you, and have them put it on. But find a real master, 
someone who will teach you the whip and submission instead of pissing you away 
on the occasional fuck and leaving you caged in a mansion.)

Merrie's tail pressed against her thigh. During Rakin's rape, the memory of 
the collar haunted her. It drove her to stop him, but now he was offering it to 
her. She tensed as she projected back, (Why? This is a trap, isn't it?)

(Take it to your guild. Send it to be investigated and identified. You'll see 
what I'm staying is true. That collar can bond you again, as close as the 
mortal magic can reforge a broken bond between an Alpha and her master.)

(Why? Why are you doing this?)

Rakin turned to look at her, seeing her not through his eyes but through the 
connection they shared. (We must end. I cannot have my life tied to you 
because I will drag you down into my hell. Today, I will either be executed or 
sent to Abbinkey. If I live, I will have no more power and no magic. But, if I 
still possess that collar, it will give me focus. It may take me years to 
recover, but if I have it, I can not let you go. I know this.)

She whimpered silently and huddled against Tamin, who growled as he felt her 
fear.

(Take it, Merrie. Steal it. Destroy it. I don't care what you do, but do not 
let me keep it.)

//He knelt on the ritual circle, holding the adamantite collar. He needed a 
trigger for the spell, something that would bind their minds together forever. 
He smiled as he looked down at his hands. "Blood," he whispered, "I'm going to 
make her bleed for this."//

(The sealing spell is triggered by a master's blood. Any blood, but choose 
careful. You have a limited chance to choose your bond. The control over your 
heart and soul can be stolen by precious blood. The closer the cut is to the 
heart, the tighter the bond.)

Merrie's breath came faster. She felt a craving for the closeness she felt for 
her master. The magic he offered her was promising but it terrified her to.

(You killed me, Merrie, my body just hasn't figured it out yet.)

She saw the pain in his eyes, the despair and ache. It was the same look in 
Borias' eyes when he talked about not being able to access his magic, to not 
see a loving death. She had taken Rakin's power away from him when she destroy 
his anger. He was a shell of a man, but she felt no joy at the emptiness 
inside him.

Rakin pictured the spells used to release the safe. And then he returned his 
attention to the prince. "Do what you will. I will accept any punishment."

Claston cleared his throat and glanced toward the balcony where Merrie laid on 
the floor and Rakin was watching. He addressed Rakin. "Then, since you killed 
Pris, I'm---"

The other male judge stood up. "Excuse me, your highness? This trial is not 
for Pris Pollium. That cannot be admitted as proof of guilt."

Merrie glanced at Jacir who was staring at the prince, the tears glistening on 
his pale face.

Claston rolled his eyes. "He just said he killed her."

"That is not the law. He cannot be judged on crimes---"

"Fine," growled Claston, "for the kidnapping, rape, and torture of Bitch---"

Both Rakin and Merrie jerked at the name. Down below, the members of the 
Whore's Guild looked at Kirin with pale looks themselves.

Merrie gulped and stared at him, trying to remember who told him her name and 
associated her with the Rakin's torture.

"---I sentence you to one thousand years in Abbinkey Prison, to remain with 
your magic sealed away forever. And I," Claston addressed the judge in a sharp 
tone, "can sentence him for that, can't I? That's the crime he's being accused 
of, isn't it?"

The judge bowed. "Yes, your highness. That is your right."

"Then," Claston said as he leaned back, "I'd suggest the gods have mercy on 
your soul, but you don't have one."

"No, your highness, not anymore."

Merrie sat up, her breasts rising and falling with her silent pants. 
Everything spun around her as she stared down at Rakin. 

He turned and looked at her. "Goodbye." His lips finished the last words 
silently, "You're a good girl, Merrie."

Her body tensed as an orgasm ran through her, the forbidden name echoing in 
her head. She replayed it and shivered again, her breath catching in her 
throat.

And then hidden runes on the pedestal flared bright. They were sick and twisted 
curls of power as they rose up to surround Rakin. She could feel his pain as 
he struggled to remain standing. She couldn't look at the spell, it was foul 
and nasty. She knew what it was, a geas, but it was like no spell she had seen 
before.

The telepathic connection between them snapped and she was throw back. A 
backlash seared along her, but Tamin took her pain with a soft whimper.

Rakin tensed as runes crawled up his legs, burning their way into his skin and 
leaving charred trails. They continued to burn their way until they covered 
every centimeter of his flesh.

Somewhere, the judges were declaring the conditions of the geas, but it didn't 
matter. Rakin would never survive to receive a pardon. He would spend the last 
of his days in Abbinkey, locked away to never see freedom again.

The magic exploded into light and Rakin finally screamed as the runes were 
burned into his flesh, sinking down through aching muscles to etch themselves 
against his bones. His voice cracked as the shrill sound echoed against the 
walls.

And then the light faded and Rakin collapsed to the ground, a husk of a man 
who would never haunt Merrie's dreams again.

**

Comments on my stories are the drugs that fuel my writing. I'm sure the same 
is for all writers, so if you like a story, don't hesitate to send even a 
quick note because that will fill me with warm, squirmy feelings for days.

http://tsade.com/
http://tsade.com/contact

If you happen to like it, I have a couple hundred stories of all types and 
themes on my website, including my BDSM fantasy novel: The Mummy's Girl.

http://tsade.com/mummy

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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