Never Surrender... (The Struggle, and its Futility)
#3 of Never Surrender!
Never surrender... He felt warm. He felt safe. He knew that once sleep's gentle embrace left him, something vile would demand his attention or happen to him. He tried to keep his eyes closed for as long as he could, until his curiosity finally got the better of him. He slowly got up... His head hit a low ceiling; he felt wood around his arms and legs; they'd buried him alive with no way out! He pushed, he screamed, he couldn't fight that cloying, crushing darkness closing in on him! They couldn't do this to him! They did, but they couldn't! No matter how hard he kicked, no matter how loud he screamed, it wouldn't open. His fearful screams became sobbing: the feel of the wood against his body assured him that this was no dream. Six feet away from anyone who cared, he never felt so alone. "Yikes, what a racket! You could have woken the dead! Heehee!" The lid of the coffin opened up, revealing a stone ceiling. The frightened Feline shot out of it and onto the floor, too scared to be angry. Looking up, he saw that his casket was on a large, sturdy table, as if ready for pre-burial. A couple of holes drilled below the false bottom would ensure some airflow, but that detail was lost on him as he looked up at the pure white Lapine who'd let him out. She held a tray in her paws, with a standard plate of food and glass of water on it; just because she put it down on the floor, he knew he wasn't allowed to eat it yet. "Wow, you'd think you'd never been put in a box before. It's supposed to be relaxing!" The Lapine put on a concerned face and reached down to touch him, but he shrank back. "R-r-relaxing?! Th-th-that was horrifying! I th-thought I'd been buried alive! Do you know what that felt like?" "Well, I heard what it felt like. You were put in there under orders, so I figured they knew what they were doing." The Cat stopped holding back, and the sobbing returned. "Y-you c-c-can't know what t-that felt like... I'm Aetroziythun... that was the w-worst thing I'd ever felt..." The happy Lapine beamed down at him before turning for the door. "Ah! They were!" Eventually, Ireline, the Keeper of Woe came in with hir Equine slave, Dunstan, in tow. He would have to watch Dunstan eat his meal (he never saw Ireline eat: the Stoat must have had hir meals in private) in front of him: the Horse always got a more filling breakfast, and made sure to let him know that. "Mmm! Thank you, my Owner. I had never had a tastier meal before! May I ask what caused you to be so generous?" The Musteline hermaphrodite never answered, but the Cat knew the reason: it was to taunt him, to sass him, to provoke a violent reaction. But that's what they wanted from him. He'd show them. He'd sit silently and eat his bread and his Ymi fruit, as they called it, glaring in contempt all the while. (Some of his food, he noticed, were leftovers. Sometimes, there were even teeth marks.) The breakfast was the only steady part of the daily routine. He was never sure where he'd wake up, or, since there were very few windows in the whole complex, when. The box always took him by surprise, but each time, he was frightened less and less; he'd make a few loud pleas, in case anyone was listening, but he took the Lapine's advice, and attempted to relax: he'd do his best to remember his years in his Aetroziythun homeland, before he decided to come to the Southern Continent, and get thrown in here. His home village, with the pleasant stream nearby; his father, telling him how to find True Power through friendship, bravery, and persistence while spurning those who would seek to show him what Real Power was; the inheritance of his father's sword, while he was too small to wield it; an enchanting Equine, his classmate, who had a talent for wielding the natural Power of Aetroziythus to her will (they said she would make a powerful Dark Queen, due to her dark fur and the fact that the other girls avoided her, claiming she'd squeeze the arm of anyone who'd call her their friend); his exile from his village, shortly after his father's death; the first underground cavern he'd explored, which sadly turned out to be empty; and his decision to go to the Southern Continent, to the big city-state of Ca'vul, where he ended up- Sometimes, Ireline would leave him by himself in a room with various restraints and mechanical devices present; sometimes, with a slave, who would either tell him to forget himself in the service of his Owner, or to ask him what he 'liked best'. After such conferences, as they were called, Ireline or another Torturer would inspect the slave thoroughly before taking them away: if they had even a self-inflicted mark on them, the Torturer would strike him in exactly the same place. Other times, Ireline would have him tied up, and forced him to watch the torture of another slave or prisoner; occasionally, he would be whipped or otherwise hurt, with mirrors hung around him so he could 'wallow in his own putrescence' as well as see what was being done to his naked body. A couple of times, Ireline would take him to a room with other slaves in it, tie him gagged to a wall, and act out the same trick shi pulled on him: shi would shift hir garb, tousle hir hair, turn hir cold, smug visage into a pitiful tremble, and assume the role of a fearful, whining slave. After slipping a chain over a post, Dunstan would lead the choice slave in and tie whoever it was next to the malevolent Stoat. He'd slip a key on a chain around the neck of the slave, taunt them for a while, then leave. After a vaguely disturbing exchange and an offer of sexual favours, the enslaved fool would ask hir to reach over and take the key to free them with; shi'd tell them to beg for it or similar, and they would always do it. Before they left the room together, shi'd look directly at his struggling form, shouting into his gag, and shout out a mocking laugh of, "Hold things down without me!" He never saw any of them again, though that was to be expected. The really maddening thing was that he had nobody to talk to, except for the times he was left with Dunstan. He knew that the stocky Equine possessed extra endurance, instead of strength or speed: his guess was proven thanks to his first and only escape attempt. He hit Dunstan with all his strength only to get kicked back to the ground, and was later forced to apologetically kiss the hoof of the slave who kicked him. That put an end to his thoughts of escape, as long as he was waiting for that bone to heal. After that instance, Dunstan found new glee in abusing his new find. He constantly flaunted how privileged he was, being owned by Ireline hirself; he asked if he'd ever been in a sexual relationship and laughed loudly at the shaking of the Cat's head. "Then I guess it's up to me to show you," he snorted. "You don't know what you're missing out on. Well, not for long, anyway..." The foreign Feline jerked his head up in sudden terror and hissed. "You're a male! B-but Torturers aren't supposed to do that! You can't!" "Hah! Where'd you learn that?" The Horse slapped his hand down on his shoulder and pushed down. "Still, that doesn't stop the Torturers from forcing their slaves on one another," he sleazed, "and I don't care what you are, so long as you've got a body I can screw." Dunstan pushed him to the floor and straddled over his squirming body. A couple of clicking sounds later, and the Horse's jock strap was thrown past the frightened Cat's face. The warm breath on his neck and the sudden grip on his hips set off a sudden panic: "No! Nooo!" He leapt from one side of the room to the other, trying to slash his claws out at the Horse as he leapt. He cowered in the far corner, shuddering and shivering, as Dunstan put a hand to his face, looking at the trickle of blood coming from his cheek. "Ooh, big mistake, Cat," he spat, sending droplets of pungent-smelling blood to the floor. "Now I'm gonna take your claws, your virginity, and anything else the-" The door of the room opened, and Ireline stepped in to see the state of the two inside. "There, I believe that was an hour now- Oh, poor, dear Dunstan... What has he done to you this time?" "Aww, but Owner, couldn't you just come back later? It didn't feel like an hour, and he didn't really hurt me at all!" "Th-that whore tried to mount me like a female! And you're punishing me? I'll do anything, just keep him away from me!" Ireline smirked and held Dunstan back. "No, you won't do 'anything' unless Dunstan is around to frighten you further. Besides, Dunstan's equipment is so astonishingly small, just about anyone would rather be taken by him first, so long as he was careful." "But Owner," Dunstan whined, sounding like a petulant child, "he scratched me and I didn't even do that yet!" His attitude changed right at the mention of genital size. A quick look down, followed by a repulsed look back up, confirmed the statement. "Shut up, Dunstan." Shi walked up to the cowering Cat and glared at him. "You injured my slave: you defaced my property. Give me your excuse now, you miserable wretch." "B-but I couldn't stop him any other way," he hissed through clenched teeth. "It's sickening and foul and-and I can't stand it!" Ireline belted out hir short, mocking laugh. "Sickening? Foul? Why do you think we pay so much attention to hygiene? So you can smell nice before we spit on you? I see you still have some learning to do." Shi reached down to stroke his back, only resulting in him shrinking further back. "If it's learning how to take it from a male, I'd rather get spit on! Is everyone here- is ev- uh..." Dunstan broke into a mischievous grin, which was returned by Ireline. "So the very idea of a homosexual exchange disgusts and terrifies you? Ah, that should prove helpful. Dunstan! Come with me. I'll patch up that scratch, and then we shall return to take care of this Cat." With a yank on Dunstan's black, shiny straps, shi pulled him out of the room. He struggled silently, but inevitably obeyed. The Cat allowed himself a superior smirk at the fact that he'd left his lower garment on the floor, allowing anyone to look at his underdeveloped sheath. Still, that left him alone in a dark room, decorated only with chains and wooden boards: his smirk quickly left his face at the fact that they'd left him here to stew in his own fear, until shi came back and forced hir Horse to rape him until he was a red and white mess.
The Lady of the Collar looked up an instant before Ireline's fist hit the open door. "How good of you to drop by. Now that you've had your fill of showing the new Torturers who's really in charge, you can take over the real administrative work. Some of these newer upstarts are simply dreadful when it comes to book-keeping." She put a wrist up theatrically to her head and sighed. Ireline flashed a warm smile in return. "Then I shall lift this burden from you, and then teach those trainee Torturers the folly of their ignorance. As for you, my Lady, I have something you would like to see: Aetroziythun, with a magnificent force of will. I would have liked to shatter him myself, but I believe you would enjoy it more than I. Please, when you're done, spare no detail." The powerful Torturer stood up, towering over the Stoat, if she would choose to do so. "Aetroziythun, you say? Oh, it's been a long time. What virtues did he try to espouse?" Ireline shrugged. "What difference does that make? He did keep mentioning friendship and bravery, but I could turn those into devotion and subservience in time." The female Torturer bust into laughter. "Oh, you foolish Stoat, you don't know who you're dealing with! He's still clinging to his Aetroziythun ideals, through which he clearly defines himself in the right. It's a good thing you came to me; where is he being held?"
- * He began to pace around the room, thinking of what to do: he'd leap forward and kick Ireline in the- no, Dunstan would still grab him. As soon as they opened the door, he'd kick Dunstan in his undersized- no, that wouldn't immobilize him completely, and there was still the Stoat... He'd kneel and beg for- No! He was so lost in thought that he didn't hear the approaching footfalls until they were accompanied by the squeak of the door opening. Then, he whirled around to kick- The door was opened by a small white Lapine in a red and white outfit, holding a bottle of wine. The sight was so far off what he'd expected that he stood flat-footed, his half-formed battle cry lost. "Hello there. You must have been in awful shape," the Bunny explained, "so I was sent to apologize on behalf of Ireline, Keeper of Woe, the rest of the Trinity, and Ca'vul in general." She put the bottle of wine on the ground, and gave a quick bow in his direction. He wouldn't be fooled so easily. "Are you another Torturer in disguise?" he asked guardedly. The Lapine giggled and twirled around, showing off her pleasant, yet suspiciously figure-hugging outfit. "Of course not," she chided. "Do I look like a Torturer to you? Heehee!" Her innocent-sounding little giggle was one that would have put the whole Ca'vul Privy Council in agreement that anything that happened to her afterwards was her own fault. "The thing is," she explained, "they sent me to give you some comfort, so you'll be in more of a mood to resist. It's one of their methods." After a short pause, she continued, "So you're the Aetroziythun I've heard about... You must have such stories! What was it like, back in the old country? What did you do?" He tried to remember, but things started to seem so distant for some reason. (One of those reasons, he had to admit, was the was the Bunny girl's cleavage was displayed by her outfit) "Oh, I was an explorer in my time," he began wistfully; "I started off on one side of the northern continent, and made my way to the other. I-I think I joined a band of three other explorers, at one point, and even discovered something about my ancestry. I got a sword that was- hmm, a sword... Did I still have it? Uh..." The enchanting Lapine listened attentively to his story, by means of nodding vigorously the whole time. When he noticed the effect the vigorous motion had on the rest of her body, he promptly gulped and trailed off. He also began to notice a feeling within himself he had previously only known of in the verse and imagery of some of the more back-alley minstrels. "And what about the rescue of fair maidens?" the pure, white female whispered. "Would you be so kind as to show me those courageous exploits?" One part of the Cat's mind thought, If I'm going to be defiled in such a place, I'd prefer it be comfortable, with someone pleasant while another, previously unknown one piped up with, Well, she did say 'show' her, and she's way hotter than that icy Stoat! "This is the part where I lean forward and clutch at her dress," he thought to himself, only vaguely aware that it was happening. "This is the part where she looks away, but I bring her closer... This is the part where she whispers my name, closes her eyes, and we-" He heard a snapping noise, clear as his intentions, and leapt backwards. The Lapine didn't turn around, but instead lowered her head in sorrowful acceptance. "Mistress..." A tall Equine entered the room and lowered her arm. Her fur was dark grey, topped with a ropey, tangled, mahogany-coloured mane. She was dressed in a red gown, trimmed with the shiny black that seemed to be the local standard. She looked, to him, every bit as beautiful as the Rabbit, but from another perspective. "You pathetic wretch, you! You shall keep your filthy paws to yourself, even if I have to chain them together and lose the key!" He leapt backwards, frightened and ashamed: blood that was rushing downwards changed direction, a red blush appearing underneath the fur of his face. The tall, strong Equine reached out and grabbed the little Rabbit by her collar, pulling the slave securely against her. "And as for you, foolish one," she scowled, "you are weaponless, defenceless, lost; you are in the presence of Gallowtail, Lady of the Collar. Kneel and sob, for your touted Power has left you!" Her histrionic scowl quickly became a mirthful smirk: "There, do you feel any better now?" She easily pulled the white Lapine up against her, pinning her arms against her sides. She squirmed ineffectually for a second, then stopped, ears drooping in acceptance. He watched all of this, and with a sudden realization, knew who he was dealing with. "I-I remember you... From so long ago... Ger-" The Torturer leapt out, grabbing him with her other arm, and pushed him against a solid object. "I am Gallowtail, or 'My Lady' to you, scum!" She snarled like an enraged Wolf, then reassumed her calm demeanour, casually tossing him to the floor. "You must address me with your proper manners at all times, lest I teach them to you." He grinned from his position on the ground. She may have aged and left, but it's still her! That selfishness, that indulgence, that guile... and I know her true name! If she tries to tell me what Real Power is, I can resist, or even prevail! She cannot defeat me! "Since when did you know of manners? You're still harming friendly girls, I see. Though True Power isn't as... active here, I've never disobeyed its principles. They said you'd make an excellent Dark Queen; why did you come here first?" Gallowtail gave a whinnying laugh and sat down on the solid, smooth object he'd been thrust against moments before: an upholstered throne, stylized in oak and iron. While still holding the Rabbit in her arms like a toy, she chortled out, "Oh really; haven't you talked to a Bat, or an Owl, or anyone who's up and about at night? To some, darkness is a comfort, a joy, sacred; and furthermore, remote castles get to be very lonely." She squeezed at her Rabbit's body, making the little white ball of fur whimper softly. "But instead of ruling over a faction, you decided to come here? To be some southern equivalent?" He wanted to leap forward and claw at her, but he didn't want to endanger the Lapine; as well, his curiosity was not yet sated. Gallowtail spun off a tale of how she searched for the personal truths the southern city-stated purported to reveal, and how the power over the minds of others was more subtle and seductive than either iteration of the ambient Power of Aetroziythus. She claimed to have more power than any Dark Queen ever had; at least, any Northern one. I could tell him pure fiction and he wouldn't care, she thought smugly to herself. He's too busy watching his pure, white maiden turn to a harlot before his eyes. Oh thank you, Ireline, Ca'vul, Powers that be, for bringing this naive Cat back to me for the humiliation he deserves! She slid her fingers around her slave's dress, tearing at the fabric, finding her way up and into her skirt. The little white Lapine quivered and gasped, but made no attempt to stand up or ask her to stop. "I have more power over this slave than I could get with any spell. I could ravage you here, in front of her eyes, and she would still kiss my hooves to see me pay some attention to her miserable self. Isn't that right, Muffin?" The shivering Rabbit could only clutch at her Mistress' grip and plead to the Cat, "P-p-pleeease... Beg her to stop... It's the only way to- (Ooh!) end my s-suffering..." Muffin was obviously not suffering, but to the confused, aroused, and still frightened Cat, he could only stare at the scene before him. The Horse was holding, pinching, squeezing wherever she could, making the timid Rabbit groan helplessly. He could hear himself shouting, commanding, pleading with her to stop molesting that innocent female, but his body could not make him. The two females in that forceful, sexual embrace made blood rush from his head. The fiend! She has her- on me- I must stop this! Please, Ger- Gallo- My Lady... Muffin saw the internal confusion in his eyes, and in the building sensational haze, followed her Mistress' command to tip the struggle over: "P-please! Help me! Help me nooowwwwwhhhh..?" The Lady of the Collar callously dumped her slave, mere seconds away from climax, onto the ground to push her Cat over: he had taken to kneeling, his head bowed to the ground, to avoid watching any more. His stance also, she noted, served to hide his prominent erection. "Well, well, well. You're even more of a hypocrite than I'd given you credit for. Homosexuality disgusts you, does it? Yet you couldn't bring yourself to end it, even during the seduction of a helpless slave." "B-b-but I..." "Oh, come now. Would you care to explain this?" She lowered her hoof upon his crotch, making him shudder for several reasons. Out of the corner of his squinting eye, he saw Muffin, the poor, lovely Rabbit who'd been treated so roughly, crawl over the floor, rest an arm on his leg and- And kiss her Mistress on the hoof that was pressing down on his Cathood. "Please, Mistress, I was so close. I've been such a naughty girl; I need more! I need more!"
- * He felt himself, all sensation deadened, get pulled across a hallway. Something tight clasped around his front end: something uncomfortable pressed against his rear. He was vaguely aware of the pressure that was supposed to build, but not, as he was told, allowed to release. He could feel the confusion as if it was a barrier around himself; he could sense a conclusion that was just beyond his grasp. He could feel the strong, Equine arms lower him into a soft, warm bed, and a pair of Lapine lips place the kiss he had longed for just minutes ago upon his cheek. Then, a decision was made. He would get up, denounce the whore for the... whore she was, by the principles of True- What was true, or real, or had any meaning down here? He asked, begged, longed for an answer, someone to tell him where to go, show him the path, to help him see what he should have before. Then, the lid slammed shut. Ends the Third.