Robbie Rand

"The Enslaved"

From his cage, Kyrinn had noticed the unusual activity around the camp. He'd overheard the soldiers and occasional civilians as well. Things were not unfolding as those in command would have desired.

When it became obvious that some of the carts and wagons would be pulled by slaves, civilians, and even soldiers, Kyrinn called out his willingness to volunteer. "You'll have to remove the shackles, of course. I promise not to flee."

The response from the nearest officer was his coming up close to the cage and peeing into it. Kyrinn fought to avoid the yellow stream, but he only had so much room. After the soldier departed, the newly acquired slave gathered dust from below the bottom bars to dry the piss from his skin as best he could.

As forces began moving out in greater numbers in all directions, Kyrinn caught sight of his new mistress speaking to an officer while looking his way. She rode over to look down upon him, warning, "Run, and I will have one of your feet cut off. Raise a hand to my men, and you will lose it."

Kyrinn had no doubt that Tanna would do as she threatened. Then she smirked and added, "Play nice, like you did last night, and you will live through this day."

She turned her horse to leave, and Kyrinn called out, "How come we didn't play together ... m'lady?"

He flinched in surprise as a handful of small stones pelted him from nearby. Kyrinn found the peeing officer staring at him with a death glare. He settled back into his cage again, mumbling toward the officer, "I guess you didn't get to play either, asshole."

A few minutes later, Kyrinn was out of his cage and following behind one of Tanna's large wagons filled with her tent and personal possessions. Often over the first couple of miles, the chain between Kyrinn's ankles caught on rocks or roots rising up from the hump down the center of the dirt road. He tumbled forward, but with his wrists not affixed to his ankles, luckily he was able to catch himself unlike the day before.

Eventually, he snatched up a small tree branch and snapped it off in just the right places. He used it as a hook to snag the middle of the chain and lift it up closer to his knees. The peeing officer, now mounted, rode up at one point, glaring down disapprovingly. Kyrinn knew that the man would have preferred for the slave to continue to tumble rather than make the walk in relatively better comfort.

The train of men and beasts stopped at a stream a bit after midday. The horses, oxen, and other livestock were allowed to drink from the cool water. Kyrinn asked the peeing officer if he could do the same and was instead kicked in the shoulder, causing him to tumble down into a muddy ditch. He struggled against the thick, sticky substance and his shackles and eventually returned to the road where he only sat down and hoped to be left alone.

Eventually, a trio of slaves making their way down the road with pitchers of water reached him. Kyrinn thanked them, asked for information about the train's situation, and was ignored as the slaves moved on.

"The Enslaved"

Kyrinn flinched back to life at the feel of a needle sharp jab to his thigh. He blinked focus to his eyes just in time to find the naked woman passed out upon him slowly slipping off his still oily body. He would have tried to catch her if his arms hadn't still been shackled to poles. She slammed down upon the carpet covered dirt floor of the tent, grunting. She rose on the support of one hand while the other hand reached to her pounding head.

He looked away from her to find the Lieutenant who'd been in charge of security the night before. In the man's hand Kyrinn found the source of the sharp leg pain. The officer had awoken Kyrinn with a gentle but still blood drawing poke of a dagger point to his leg. The man's expression revealed his disgust with the previous night. Kyrinn had been mounted by more than a dozen women over the hours after the departure of the celebration's male participants. The Lieutenant, though, had had to stand idly by and watch, uninvited to participate. In his mind, it hadn't been fair, and he was going to make sure that the Yornan came to know that.

"Fun's over, slave," the Lieutenant said. "Time to wash these women off your cock."

He gestured to a pair of guards who began unshackling Kyrinn. They secured his wrists and ankles as their Lady had ordered but also secured the chain between the wrists and ankles. Kyrinn had barely started for the partially withdrawn curtain when the Lieutenant gave him a shove from behind. Kyrinn's feet couldn't keep up with his forward falling upper body. He toppled like a chopped down tree, slamming to the carpet covered, hard packed ground.

"Clumsy," the Lieutenant said, smiling to the other soldiers. "Get up."

Kyrinn struggled back to his feet and looked about himself. There were still a dozen and a half women in the tent. Most of them were asleep, passed out all about the pillow array. Most of them were still naked or partially so; some of those were in the arms of other naked women. Kyrinn hadn't been the only person in the tent to get some after the departure of the community's male leadership.

The women who were awake mostly ignored him. They ate breakfast or chatted quietly, pretending Kyrinn wasn't even there. The entertainment he provided them the night before was not and never would be a subject of public conversation. He was a slave, an enemy slave; they'd enjoyed having him inside them, of course, but that didn't mean they wanted to or ever would speak of it with others.

Kyrinn struggled to his feet and headed out the opened flap of the tent. He found himself hitting the ground again after yet another shove. The Lieutenant growled, "Get up! We don't have all day."

Kyrinn rolled to his back and told the officer with a sarcastic tone, "It would be faster if I just rolled to wherever you wanted me. Shall I?"

The soldier growled, "Get the fuck up before I cut that big cock of yours off and feed it to the pigs."

Kyrinn managed to get out to the shit pit with only one more fall, which was nearly into the open, manure filled hole. He did his business and was then herded back to near the tent. On the way, the Lieutenant removed the unauthorized chain causing Kyrinn so many problems.

Tanna's two young servants were waiting to once again bath him. They seemed to take more joy in it this time around. It was as if it was suddenly permissible to lay hands upon their Lady's new toy. When they finished, Kyrinn was taken to a cage that was apparently just for his containment. It was small, less than spread-arms width, depth, and height. He simply leaned back into one corner, sitting on his ass. Krina and Madley brought food and water, then disappeared.

And then it was just a matter of waiting for whatever came next.

The camp was much smaller than it had been the day before. The slaves and a Company guarding them had left the night before, heading south. Another company had departed north, toward Westmoreland. They were scouting ahead and securing resources, not that Kyrinn knew that. Another company was just heading out, following the latter with a portion of the wagons. That left two companies and a multitude of civilians. The latter would wait for the army's full departure, then scavenge anything of value left behind. This was the way of war, particularly in these hard times when even the nearly meatless remains of a charred goat carcass over a fire pit was worth fighting over to the death.

"The Enslaved"

(OOC: I agree wholeheartedly with my fellow writer about erotic writing. I will edit my own texts if we are requested to do so..)

Kyrinn had seldom found himself fearful of anyone or anything. But when his new captor caught her servants serving him, he was sure that punishment was due all around. Instead, he found himself being stimulated into service and mounted by the one young woman named Krina. There was no refusing to participate in Tanna's little practice session. Kyrinn's body reacted without his permission to the girl's actions.

Of course, why would he want to refuse? Krina was obviously well practiced at this facet of her service to her Lady, and it wasn't long before Kyrinn was groaning out in euphoria and falling back into his tilted seat, his chest heaving, his core tingling. He'd kept his eyes upon his lover the entire time they were as one, and only after it was over and Krina had dismounted did Kyrinn finally look to Tanna again, finding she had been studying the two of them with seemingly great interest.

After the two girls were excused, Tanna told him he could keep his cock and balls if he entertained well tonight. He shrugged his shoulders and moved his arms and legs as best he could within the confines of the shackles, asking, "I would be able to do so more easily and more successfully if I were not chained as I am."

Kyrinn knew his captor wasn't about to permit him to be unshackled in a celebration filled with men and women responsible for the defeat of the army in which he served. Her wordless, studying stare of him led Kyrinn to alter his request, "May I at least be permitted a short walk around the tents, in shackles if you prefer. I am in pain and stiffening. My performance would be enhanced, m'lady."

She gave no answer to his request, but when the other servant returned, he was given food and ale as their Mistress again returned to her bed. Beat, exhausted, and sexually satisfied to boot, Kyrinn actually managed to drift off to sleep, despite his awkward situation.

He awoke with a start some time later to find four soldiers unshackling him from the poles and stakes, shackling him again wrists-to-ankles, and taking him outside. He was allowed to walk about, to again eat drink, and to take a crap in a nearby shit pit. And all the while, he was surrounded by guards with spears or swords.

Just when he thought he was being taken back inside again, Kyrinn found himself standing in a short but wide tub, stripped of his hide, and being washed more completely by Krina and Madley. This time, they used scented water, and after drying him off, coated his muscular body with oils that made his dark skin glisten in the last vestiges of the day's light.

Then, he was back inside and shackled in his chair, his arms wide, his legs separated a bit. This time, though, the curtain was pulled closed. He couldn't see the men and women who began filling the tent. A guard standing on his side of the curtain repeatedly shifted his attention between Kyrinn and the gathering.

There was no way of knowing how long it would be before he was revealed to the celebration guests as their entertainment.

"The Enslaved"

Kyrinn didn't for a moment believe Tanna was sympathetic about what had happened to the town of Baylon Bay. She may or may not have had a hand in the military campaign about his hometown. But it was the Westmoreland army and navy that laid siege to the town from land and sea for almost two years. And that was after Mother Nature had hit the community with a tsunami, a drought, and a plague all in the span of 14 months.

Baylon Bay had already been on its knees before the siege and subsequent invasion occurred. Today, less than 1/4 of the original population of the town remained there alive, and they lived under the boot of a brutal Lord put in place by Tanna's father.

His captor sent the guards away, then surprisingly simply laid down in her lush bed and closed her eyes. Kyrinn just stared at her in silence, wondering What the hell now? He could ask what was going to be done to him. Or how he was part of the entertainment. Or what exactly the celebration would entail.

Instead, he simply tried to relax back into the seat and ignore the pain surging through his body. He'd been run over by a horse, beaten by a handful of soldiers wielding clubs, and punched in the kidneys, and now he was strung up and out in a way that was concentrating a good amount of that pain in his shoulders and back.

Somehow, he didn't find this entertaining, festive, or celebratory. But then, Tanna probably hadn't meant for him to enjoy it all, had she?

After a bit, the two servants returned, conspicuously showing their surprise at finding Kyrinn trussed up and their Lady asleep. They began performing some tasks involving food, drink, and decor. Repeatedly, the pair of young beauties peeked Kyrinn's way, often coming together to whisper and giggle.

"May I have one of those?" he whispered to them, nodding his head toward a plate of treats on a table. They looked to each other, then to their lady. Kyrinn whispered even lower, "I won't tell. I promise."

Still getting nowhere, he smiled and winked before whispering one last time, "Give me a piece of cheese and a drink of that ale, and you can lift my hide and look at my cock."

Kyrinn blew them each a kiss, hoping that at the least he'd get something in his belly and at the most this might be the first step toward finding some way out of this mess. That latter part was a serious long shot, of course. The two servants were likely slaves, but would they be inclined to risk their lives just for a peek at an above averaged sized penis? And even if they did want to help him escape, could they? The shackles around his wrists and ankles were the type that took a key or, at the least, a particularly shaped piece of metal or strong wood to be used as a pick, and even then only one in ten people had the skills to work such a device.

"The Enslaved"

When he'd regained consciousness, Kyrinn had found himself already shackled. He sat up to find find other survivors from the Yornaland Army being herded to the little hill on which he sat. All around them, other survivors, the badly injured, were being run through with swords and spears.

It took him a long while to recall just what had happened. He'd killed or critically wounded two dozen men during the opening minutes of the battle. Then a mounted Westmoreland soldier rode his 1500 pound horse into Kyrinn's 250 pound muscular mass. The momentum of the collision had sent the warrior flying through the air, across the ground, and into unconsciousness.

And now here he was, one of the defeated. Despite the metal clamps and chains about his ankles, Kyrinn was considering escape options. It was then that Lady Tanna of Westmoreland arrived. She spoke to an officer, then caught sight of Kyrinn watching her. He knew he should have lowered his eyes yet didn't. She pointed right at Kyrinn and ordered him brought to her quarters.

He was certain she was going to execute him, possibly as an example to other Yornoland soldiers, possibly just for her own entertainment. His execution might be preceded by torture, even castration. Either way, he wouldn't reach the slave markets to the south. Ironically, Kyrinn saw that acceptable. Slavery was the ultimate defeat for a man such as him.

He didn't make it easy for the Westmoreland soldiers. His ankles had been shackled, but his hands had still been free. He broke one soldier's arm and many bones in another's face. He would have continued his resistance if the Westmoreland Lieutenant hadn't run his sword through the gut of another Yornoland survivor, then a second as Kyrinn protested with choice profanity. A second soldier was run through before the officer stated, "I can do this all day long."

After that, Kyrinn went along and got along. He was stripped, washed by slaves, dressed in deer hide skin, and delivered to Tanna's tent. She inspected him not unlike he often did brothel whores before a night of pleasure. He wondered if his torture might include shoving his cock in and out of Tanna for a couple of hours; Noble and Royal women often made use of enemy soldiers in that way before having them castrated and/or executed. Kyrinn was okay with that, actually. So was his cock, apparently, as it began filling with blood beneath the deer hide.

For a moment, when he felt cold still against his cock and balls, Tyrinn became convinced that he wouldn't be partaking of the beautiful woman after all. Then he found himself shackled and being told that he would be her celebration's entertainment. Kyrinn didn't know whether to be happy about that or not.

When she asked his name, he initially remained silent. But the Lieutenant brought a powerfully swung fist down into his kidneys, then again, and finally a third time. Once he recovered, he murmured, "Kyrinn. Kyrinn of Baylon Bay."

FILLED, thank you. (Ancient slave-becomes-hero roleplay)

I'd like to write this role if you'll take me. I have been reading here on Role Player's Guild off and on for a long time but only joined as a member today, just moments ago. But I have years of role playing experience elsewhere.

I am online almost everyday and can/will easily meet your requirements above regarding posting frequency and proof reading.