Red Sonja: The Sorceress' Tale (Part 3) (Patreon)

(Sorry this took so long to get out. I was trying to finish this story in three parts, but part 3 started becoming 6000 words... then 7000... then 8000... then 9000... at this point, I'll give you guys up to a certain point, then give you the finale bright and early on Tuesday!)

Rounding up the rebel army took longer than I thought. My reinforcements had arrived to cut them off but, as I suspected, traps had been set that disrupted their progress and the leaders of the rebellion proved cannier than I expected. I was fine with letting most of them escape, but I wanted the ringleaders and Sonja’s companions, so I had to guide my men to their hiding places and see to them one by one. That meant more magic, more pealing the veil of matter and space, more time I had to spend on the matter, but I had to be sure I got them all.

Thoroughness was paramount. I wasn’t going to be that dark sorceress that destroyed all the rebel leaders, except for one, who escaped and started some legendary military order with the purpose of bringing me down. There would be no more heroes in my kingdom, only a just, but vengeful queen. It required more of my attention and effort, but it was worth it.

Now, finally, I could see to more enjoyable tasks.

The upper levels of my tower were purely for my use. No soldiers, no dignitaries, no servants were allowed there, only my handmaidens and my… other trifles. Everything on those floors had been ensorcelled to give me privacy, protection, and pleasure. Everywhere else in the world I had to be a queen, but in my sanctuary, I could relax and be free with myself. Anyone attempting to enter my sanctuary uninvited was in for an immediate and grisly death.

The chambers were vast and opulent, sorcery creating more space than would otherwise be available. Decorative pillars were embossed with gold, the floor a warm marble, everything draped in silks to add a softness to the décor. Beyond the lounging area, where plush pillows were set next to silver bowls of self-replenishing delicacies, was a hallway of doors leading to other projects and delights.

The moment I’d stepped through the soundproofed warding of my sanctuary, I could already hear banging and cursing coming from that hallway. The voice was rough and feminine, often wordless animal sounds of fury, but when they were words, they were invariably caustic and profane. Metal was being clashed against metal, the sound constant and tireless, driven by sheer indignation and rage.

It seemed Red Sonja had recovered from the stunning effects of my mesmerism. If I had to guess, I’d have said she was slightly miffed. Perhaps it was the memory of being presented in bondage before a crowd, perhaps it was the realization her rebellion had been crushed, perhaps it was coming to her senses in her current circumstances, any of those reasons could have made her grouchy. I would just have to ask her why she was in such a tizzy…

As Sonja continued to noisily voice her displeasure, I shrugged off my cloak and touched a finger to my snug, scaled leotard. At my touch, the garment, along with my boots, began to disintegrate; I didn’t care to take the time to remove it. As I strutted through my sanctuary, the scales flaked and fell away like leaves from a rotting tree, sometimes flicked aside by the swaying of my hips. By the time I reached the hallway, I was much more comfortable in my scant black underthings.

These chambers had so much of my magic in them, they were as much me as my arm or my leg. Sashaying past several of the thick, decorative doors, I turned to one and waved my hand. The door opened, allowing me to pass through without missing a step.

“RAAAAGH! RELEASE ME! SHIT EATING WHORESONS!”

Like the rest of my sanctuary, these chambers were larger than space should have allowed, given the short distance the doors were apart from one another. Among them were my private reclining room, a chamber of erotic exploration, a bathing room, my magical laboratory, and this one, a chamber where I kept new… acquisitions.

A row of barred cages lined the far wall, different sizes for different creatures, all gleaming gold and all enchanted. There was no door or gate, the wrist-thick bars seemed to sprout out of the floor. I’d kept princesses, sorcerers, and demi-gods in these cages, even a unicorn at one point.

Now the only filled cage hosted a she-devil.

Red Sonja froze when she saw me, ceasing her protests. She was in one of the smaller cages, about the size of a comfortable carriage, with a blank and pillow on the floor for her to lie down. My girls had removed her restraints for her comfort (and so she wouldn’t dash the decorative gold against the bars), allowing her to stand up straight and grip the bars.

She didn’t appear to be overly grateful for those small blessings. Her pretty features were a feral mask, jade eyes latched onto me with murderous intensity. She hadn’t ceased shouting due to fear, but out of rage; even then, she was squeezing the bars until her arms shook, like she was picturing her hands were around my neck.

I grinned, striding towards her cage. She was so very lovely when angry.

“How now, little Sonja?” I asked, “What troubles you?”

She bared her teeth, deadly still, her fair cheeks flushed. Her chest and shoulders were steadily heaving, labored with unwavering fury. A rabid wolf would have looked more friendly.

For several seconds she didn’t respond. When she did, her voice was low and rough, a knife edge dragged across a stone.

“You…” she grated, “You… cowardly, belly-crawling, spawn of a jackal…”

I stopped just outside her reach from the bars, putting my hands on my hips and meeting her murderous gaze with one of playful affection. Where she stood, in the grip of my power, I feared her glare no more than I’d fear the pout of a toddler.

“My goodness, Sonja,” I teased, “If you’re displeased with your quarters, you should simply say so! Would you like another blanket? Perhaps I could have one of my girls bring you a larger pillow!”

To her credit, she didn’t slam herself against the cage or try to lunge through the bars. The she-devil was savage, but canny. She kept her rage at a steady burn, waiting for her moment rather than lashing out and wasting energy.

“Taunt me while you can,” she snarled, “I swear by mitra, I will see you die a thousand deaths for these humiliations.”

I couldn’t help but titter at that, swaggering closer to the bars. She could reach through and grab at me if she wished, but I wasn’t worried. In fact, I welcomed her to try.

“You do not take defeat with grace, do you, Sonja the red?” I said, “Any chance you had of ending my life has passed. Your sword will no more harm me here than a downy feather.”

I reached out, stroking the bar just beside her hand.

“And alas, you do not even have your sword,” I sighed, “I couldn’t leave it for some chosen hero to claim someday. It’s being melted down, I’m afraid.”

Sonja sneered, “No mere fire can reduce a blade of pure Hyrkanium. Your men waste their time.”

“That is why I am not using mere fire,” I grinned back.

That seemed to take the she-devil back for a moment. Her sneer fell away, eyes becoming guarded.

It only made my grin broaden. If there was one way to upset a Hyrkanian more than killing their horse, it was destroying their sword. They were very possessive of such things.

“I am well acquainted with magical craft,” I explained to her, “The Hyrkanium blade is a fine tool. It would take me much time and effort to make one like it… but to unmake it, so much easier.”

Sonja’s eyes widened.

I stepped yet closer, almost pressing myself against the bars.

“Yes…” I cooed, placing my hand upon hers, “I think it will make a lovely plate. Perhaps a frame for a—”

The she-devil was as fast as a striking cobra. I’d barely felt the skin of her knuckles before she’d snatched my wrist, her cold glare suddenly blazing with savage aggression. She yanked me to the bars and her other hand lunged through to grip my dark hair.

Judging by her hateful expression, she definitely meant to do me some lasting harm. Perhaps break my neck or bash my face into the bars until I was senseless, I was close enough to her that she could have bitten me if she wanted. It all happened so fast, there was no way I would have been able to cast a spell to stop her.

However, I’ll never know her true intentions for sure. Whatever she planned to do next, I simply… didn’t let her.

There we were, face to face through the bars, her gripping my wrist and hair, myself pressed against her cage. And there we stayed. Sonja snarled at me, her eyes wide with almost insane fury, but I just smiled back, enjoying her glorious anger.

I wasn’t the least bit afraid. You see, for all her strength, skill, and intent, the she-devil couldn’t move. My power wouldn’t let her.

She tried, of course. As the seconds ticked by, her fair features turned pink with effort, and she gnashed her teeth. She grunted, managing a twitch of her arm, a tremor in her shoulders as she fought my control of her body.

“Wh-what…?” she ground out through her teeth, “Sorcery…?!”

My grin broadened. I loved the look of astonishment mixing with her indignant fury.

“Oh, pretty Sonja.” I cooed, “My lovely, fiery, truculent little lamb…”

I reached through the bars to stroke her cheek. It was soft, warm, flushed with emotion.

“You just don’t understand how helpless you really are,” I brushed her delicate cheek bone, “You still think you’re… my opponent.”

My touch only made Sonja struggle harder. Her body trembled, continuing to grunt and snarl with effort. Struggling caused her pain, making her muscles cramp, needles of agony pushing into her mind as she fought and my power held her at bay. She was like a stubborn ox resisting the pull on her nose ring, grimacing and cringing but unrelenting.

Yet unlike the ox, the one holding the lead was much stronger than the beast being led. She twitched and shivered, using all her considerable willpower to resist, but she was in no more danger of threatening my control than a baby is in danger of squirming out of the jaws of a wolf. It was laughably easy to keep her still and I had yet to show her how much more forceful I could be.

“It’s difficult to explain to someone with no magic, but I shall try,” I brushed a curl of hair from her eye, “Imagine an addiction, a need that once inside you never truly goes away. It might take time to take hold, but once it succeeds, it is strong. To escape it, you must shun it, cut yourself off from it, for after it has claimed you, only the smallest taste will bring you back under its sway.”

Red Sonja’s features were a feral mask, her face threatening to turn the same color as her hair. She hissed and snarled in frustration, clenching her eyes closed, using all her willpower to simply wiggle a finger. With all her strength she tried to move her finger, hoping to have at least some level of control over herself, that if she could manage that maybe she could slowly gain more.

I denied her.

“My power is like this,” I said, “Once past your defenses, it makes a home there. But unlike a mindless need for opium, it is alive, cunning, and intangible. It will be inside you forever, coiled gently around your soul, unnoticeable until it begins to squeeze…”

To illustrate, I made her release my hair. Without touching her, without even moving my body, I compelled her hand to loosen its grip, then slip free of my locks. She fought back, snarling, her arm trembling, but she couldn’t even slow me down. Nor could she speed up the movement of her limb; slowly, with no effort, I compelled her arm to lower down to her side.

“Nhhh!” she ground her teeth.

“You cannot shun it, for it will seek you out,” I smiled, “You cannot cut yourself off, because it won’t allow you. You cannot escape it. Nor can you resist it.”

I made her lower her other hand now, releasing my wrist and floating down to her side.

“NAAAAH!” she cried out in frustration and pain.

“You can never, ever be free of it. It will always own you.”

I took a small step back, narrowing my eyes.

“Iwill always own you.”

And with that, I forced her to her knees.

When I’d made her release me, I’d guided her intentionally gently and gradually, showing how easily I could control her. Now I showed her my strength.

She fell to her knees so abruptly that they smacked off the stone, bouncing her breasts in their confining metal cups. The impact jarred her head, bobbling it on her neck, drawing a grunt of both surprise and pain. It happened so quickly that she had no idea it was coming, had no chance to fight against it. Suddenly kneeling, she could only stare in shock, not even attempting to struggle.

Imagine being a small child wrestling with your father. He plays along, humoring you, and you feel you’re doing very well, until he applies more than an ounce of effort. Suddenly your breath catches as you find yourself yanked up from the ground. You gape, dumbstruck, freezing like a frightened squirrel.

That is the precise look I saw on the face of Red Sonja. Her green eyes were as big as the pummel of her sword, awe making her mouth fall open, stare level with my hip. She had caught a glimpse of the power she was struggling against and realized how small she was in comparison.

With a dismissive flick of my wrist, the bars that separated us moved aside. They slithered out from where they sprouted from the floor, shrinking back until they formed an open doorway.

Now with nothing between us, I cupped her chin and tilted it up to look at me.

She was so stunned, she didn’t resist. And the lost, bewildered little girl expression on the face of the mighty Red Sonja… it was intoxicating.

“Oh, my, yes,” I crooned, looking into those big green eyes, “Now you’re starting to understand…”

She continued to gape, speechless.

“You see…” I leaned closer, “I told you… your fate.”

I pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Your destiny,” I whispered into her hair, “Kneeling. Before me.”

My words, or the kiss, snapped her out of her stupor. Red Sonja had meant what she had said in our confrontation; she had bowed to no one. Not princes, kings, emperors, warlords, not armies, giants, dragons, or even beings beyond the moral plane of existence. Always she had refused. She would have rather died.

But now she knelt before me and she didn’t even have the choice of a glorious death. It was more than she could bear.

“I’LL RIP YOUR HEART OUT!” she screamed, “CARRION-BORNE WHORE! I’LL KILL YOU!”

Mad with rage, all but frothing at the mouth, she shook where she knelt, fighting with everything she had against my control. It had no other effect whatsoever, other than to cause her pain. She was entirely helpless against my power; this only infuriated her further.

“KILL YOU!” she roared again, “TEAR OUT YOUR EYES! RAAAAAGH! KILL YOU! KILL YOU! I SWEAR BY ALL THE GODS!”

She continued like this for several seconds and I only shook my head.

I sighed. It was a bit sad to see her in this state, not to mention being less appealing to the eye. The way her anger brightened her and made her blush was very lovely, but this desperate, animal rage was unsightly. A vein was throbbing in her neck, her voice painful to hear. It must have been painful for her as well; truly, it would be a blessing when she was broken and accepted her place.

Fortunately, that would be very soon.

“I’LL FEED YOU TO THE CROWS!” she howled, “STRANGLE YOU WITH--!”

At a thought from me, her jaw clamped closed and her scream ceased. The only sound that came from her was the hissing breath through her nose; she couldn’t even squeak if I didn’t let her do so.

I shook my head again.

“No, Sonja,” I leaned down to her eye level, gently explaining, “You will not overthrow me, you will not defy me, and you certainly will not kill me. That is no longer your choice.”

She stared at me with wide eyes, both indignant and shocked.

I stood back upright, smiling down at her.

“What you will do… is my will,” I said, “At any moment, you will do exactly what you think will please me.”

With a thought, Sonja fell forward. She caught herself on her hands, now on all fours, jaw closed but eyes still wide with astonishment.

“And at this moment,” I let my hip stick out to one side, “You will crawl.”

Sonja’s eyes darted up to me, growing even larger with shock and fury.

“Crawl,” I told her again, “On all fours, like a dog. All the way to the bath chambers.”

Stiff-backed, she glared up at me, lips pinched into a thin, white line. She was unable to snap back at me and unable to stand upright, but for a moment there was a glint of satisfaction in her eye. She wouldn’t crawl; maybe she thought I couldn’t make her do so.

If that’s what she thought, she was wrong. I’d given her the option to do so of her own accord, making it a less painful process for her. But as I expected, she refused. This is what I call a teachable moment.

Any defiance in her eye turned to anger as her left hand came forward and plopped to the floor, her right knee moving forward in tandem. This moved her a few inches, then the right hand and left knee came forward to move her another few. Then I alternated back to left and right, right and left…

It’s trickier to puppet someone into crawling than you might think, particularly since I hadn’t done it myself in a long time, but it didn’t take me long to get the hang of it. I made her shuffle along, making many, small motions, like a nervous baby might and in no time, I had her crawling past me, towards the door.

“There you are,” I grinned, “Crawl, Sonja the Red. Such a good little puppy…”

Sonja tried to snarl at me, but her expression was too pained to do it justice. She was still fighting every movement I commanded, which made each little shuffle of knees and feet feel like she was being torn apart. Her arms and legs trembled, shoulders shuddering, evidence of her resistance, and after a few more paces she looked away from me entirely to focus on fighting back.

It didn’t help her in the slightest.

I moved her much slower than I needed to, turning to watch her crawl down the chamber to the exit. Her palms made cute little pitter-patts on the floor, the hurried crawling making her full bottom wave at me beneath her glittering loincloth. If you didn’t see her face, you might have thought she was eagerly scuttling somewhere, cautious but hurried, oblivious to the lewd way it displayed her body.

It was adorable.

It took her almost twenty seconds to reach the exit and I let her get all the way to the door before I followed after her. Taking long strides, I caught up just as she made into the hallway and turned, crawling towards the far end.

“Look at you,” I cooed down to her, “Just like a little burrow…”

Keeping pace, I slowly walked just beside her, grinning downwards.

“Perhaps I should ride on your back, hm?” I leaned down to tickle the curve of her spine, “Maybe find your bit again. I could braid your hair like a show pony’s…”

She glared at my feet, then clenched her eyes closed as another agonizing dagger pierced her muscles and brain. The effort of her resistance, along with that of earlier, left sweat beading on her face and back, her labored breath rasping through her nose. She was still stiff, still holding her head up, but the pain alone was taking its toll. Not only that, but at our current pace, she had a long way to crawl to reach the end of the hall.

I laid my hand on her head, combing my fingers through her red locks as I strolled casually alongside.

“Whatever I do,” I said, “And whatever you do… those will be mine to decide. You may not even fight me. All you may decide is if you want pain or pleasure.”

I let her have control of her jaws and voice once more. She immediately gasped and began panting through her open mouth.

“You can stop this pain simply by ceasing to resist,” I told her, “Or even better, crawl of your own accord. But those are your only options. Pain… or pleasure.”

Sonja rasped and growled, biting back a groan. The pace of her crawling and her trembling never ceased and for a moment I wondered if she would simply ignore me.

However, after several seconds, she replied in a rough voice, strained with effort and discomfort.

“I’ll… take all…” she snarled, “This pain… and… more! Witch!”

She went back to panting, forcing down another groan.

I just laughed gently, patting her head.

“As I said, that is your choice.”

I forced her mouth to close again, taking away her speech.

“It matters little. I never expected the pain is what would break you anyway…”

* * *

It was only a few minutes before we reached the door to the bath chamber, but by the time we arrived Sonja was no longer as fiery.

Trembling, her head was drooped as she crawled, expression hanging and tired. Sweat shined off her shoulders, along the groove of her back, over the swells of her flanks, sticking her hair to her forehead and even running in droplets down her arms. I’d freed her jaw and voice, but she hadn’t used the freedom for much other than pant, groan, and occasionally rasp out a curse.

It doesn’t matter how strong you are, enough agony over a long enough period drains your stamina more than any exercise. Sonja had fought her way through my elite guards, charged up the steps of my tower, and dueled me without even breaking a sweat, but a few minutes of this torture and now she gasped for air. She had no breath to threaten me, no energy to focus on anything other than her continued resistance.

One had to admire her spirit. It would be even more admirable once it was bent to my will.

“Oh, you are in even more need of a cleaning now,” I smiled down at her, “A very, very thorough cleaning and grooming. That will make you feel much better.”

I patted her head.

She growled in response but didn’t have the energy to glare up at me.

The bathing chamber was the last door on the right in that long hallway. I could have opened it with a wave of my hand, but instead stepped past the crawling Sonja to turn the handle and push with my own arm. Staying out of the way, I held the door open so she could easily crawl through, even holding out my arm in welcome.

I thought it was generous of me, but she didn’t even look at me to acknowledge my kindness. She was panting raggedly, eyes lidded like she could barely keep them open, but I still thought it was rather rude.

Then again, what else could one expect of a savage?

Once Sonja was inside, I closed the door behind us and turned to enjoy the sight of one of my favorite parts of my sanctuary.

The bathing chambers didn’t look like chambers at all, but an underground cave with hot springs of clear water that steamed merrily, filling the cavern with warmth. The cavern walls were dark as onyx, but crystals sprouted from the rock glowing and lighting the chamber in balmy blue. More crystals lit from inside the pools themselves, making it seem like the water surface itself was glowing, precious soaps and golden grooming utensils lining the edges. Though the walls and ceiling looked rough, the floor was smooth and flat, polished down, other fixtures carved into flat surfaces to form tables and benches where one could rest.

All was still and peaceful, warm and comfortable. The only sounds were of Red Sonja’s haggard breathing and the muted whispers of my handmaidens, mixed with occasional giggles. My girls had been preparing while Sonja had rested, in another chamber beyond the bend of a rock wall. They’d clearly been relaxing as well, enjoying each other’s company. It was so precious; they got on so well together.

I sighed and stretched as I enjoyed the pleasant surroundings, reaching over my head and arching my back. This is what I needed after putting down a rebellion and defeating a mythic, barbarian champion: a nice, relaxing soak.

“Do you like it, Sonja?” I asked, my voice echoing in the chamber, “It took me some time to carve it exactly how I wanted it, but I think it was worth it. This room has given me hours upon hours of pleasure.”

Sonja didn’t reply, only panting, her head hanging. She remained on all fours, still fighting me, but with much less aplomb. She was simply too tired to keep up that level of intensity for so long.

All was well. She’d be able to rest now. Her body, but more importantly her fighting spirit. She’d be resting THAT for a good long while.

With a thought I released my control of her, and I wasn’t the least bit surprised when she immediately collapsed onto her chest. Her metal bikini clacked against the floor and she grunted, too tired to hold herself without my help. Panting, shoulders heaving, she lay flat on the stone, arms and legs spread, like a bear-skin rug.

“Such a mess…” I shook my head at her, “Girls! Come now! It’s time!”

At my call, the hushed murmurs from the next chamber went immediately silent, then were replaced by the pitter-patter of several pairs of bare feet. The pattering feet approached in-step, growing slightly louder as they drew closer, the sound amplified by the acoustics of the chamber.

Stepping a bit closer to Sonja, I looked down at her as I waited for my girls to arrive. She hadn’t moved other than to continue panting.

“Roll over, Sonja,” I said to her, “You’ll be more comfortable.”

Without waiting for her to comply, I did it for her. She groaned as I forced her to push with her arms, twist her hips, then flop over onto her back. I released her as soon as she was lying there, letting her rest again.

“Die… a th-thousand times…” she rasped.

Breasts heaving, she managed to glare up at me from her back, lips pulled back in a snarl even as she gasped for air through her wide-open mouth. Her spirit was still fierce, but her body was spent. Simply too tired to rise, perhaps even knowing how futile it would be, she lay still, watching me with lidded, hate-filled eyes.

The poor thing. She still didn’t realize how soon her attitude would change.

I offered her a pitying smile, then looked up as my handmaidens came around the corner.

The six of them came in their usual procession, two by two, heads lowered in deference. In their hands, presented like religious artifacts, were brushes, soaps, creams, and potions. They had come well-armed and been well-trained to clean and groom a she-devil until she was no longer so barbaric.

They were also entirely naked.

It warmed my heart to see. All six of my girls, all lovely, all petite, bare chested and bare loined, approaching with such gifts in their hands. I had more than once enjoyed their attentions in these toasty pools. Now I thought it would be equally enjoyable to see them ply their craft on Red Sonja.

On reaching us, the girls spread out into a single row, shoulder to shoulder as they’d done before, then curtsied in unison.

“As you call,” their voices tinkled as one, “So we come, your grace.”

They smiled demurely, proper and respectful, but more than once their gazes flicked down to the warrior woman lying at their feet, eyes shining with girlish excitement. They remained still, waiting for my order, but there was a jittery tension, an occasional fidgeting, like young mares knowing they were about to be let out of the stables.

My girls were as eager to put their hands on Red Sonja as I was.

Noticing this as well, Sonja groaned and lifted her head. With an effort, she slowly managed to sit up, planting a trembling arm on the floor to keep herself up.

“Very good, girls,” I grinned, “Lita will attend to me, the rest of you…” I gestured to the weakened warrior below me, “Please see to this poor creature. Bathe her, cleanse her, comfort her… make her as lovely as a rose.”

The handmaidens bobbed another curtsy, “As you wish, your grace!”

Then, giggling with delight, they set down their implements and converged on Sonja.