A half hour after leaving Gon, Trien was still carrying Merrie on his way to the dump and her fate. She could tell the distance had taken its toll on him; he stumbled frequently and gasped for breath after stopping. Occasionally he had to sway to the side or groan with the effort to haul her up over a hill.

The trip wasn't enjoyable for her either. The sack was suffocating and hot. Her body rolled around in it but she couldn't even brace herself on the side to avoid smashing her face or breasts into the side. Whenever she did, he elbowed her or shook the bag violently until she relented. When she was forced into an uncomfortable position for too long, the pinpricks of light would sting her skin.

Despite her discomfort, it was Ston that she was worried about. Every passing second brought her further away. She was already sure she couldn't make it back without using magic. There was no way she could travel that much distance even assuming she broke free with first dark.

That was assuming she could escape when it turned dark. There was always a chance Trien had anticipated her abilities or dumb luck would prevent her from using them. The thousand what-ifs that haunted her made her question her choice to wait for an opportunity to strike back.

Just as she was berating herself for not fighting in the sunlight, she noticed that he was walking faster. Her body was bounced in the bag, rolling from one side to the other. She managed to brace her sweat-slicked limbs slightly as she tried to steady herself.

Trien elbowed her painfully. “Settle down, cunt. We're almost there.”

She didn't know what to do. Panting, she fought the swell of lust from her helplessness and the sick from worrying about Ston. As she did, she started to pick up new smells from their destination: the stench of rotting food exposed to the air, sharp scents of burning wood, and the gathered garbage of an entire prison. Underneath was a different smell, she couldn't quite place it but it was sharp and cloying, like long dead corpses.

Ten minutes later, he was walking on a hardened surface. It sounded like cracked tiles that scraped against each other. He muttered as he jerked to one side and then the other. Finally, he came to a halt.

When she heard metal chains being rattled, her ears perked up. She could almost picture him pulling out a thick chain through a series of rings. She glanced up to see that there was still light seeping through the tiny little holes in the canvas. Her skin still crawled from the contact but she noticed it wasn't as hot as before.

Frowning, she peered at the fabric. The light seemed more blue than yellow but it wasn't any less bright. It was hard to tell through the shifting fabric but she also didn't think it was flickering. That meant it was probably a magical light.

Some of her hopes faded. He suspected she had to keep into the light. Her fears were confirmed when he entered inside a door and the light didn't diminish.

Trien slammed the door shut and then drew more chains through eye-bolts. She could feel the scrape of the heavy metal shaking through his entire body.

“Don't worry about escaping, I'm keeping this place nice and bright for you.” He chuckled and continued down a narrow-sounded hall. “This used to be the old processing prison center. Lots of cells for prisoners but I found a perfect one for you in the isolation wing.”

Her stomach rolled in discomfort as he carried her further into the building.

“Your light problem reminded me of some of my old bounties.”

Merrie's ears perked up again but her tail slumped.

“There was a cabal of shadow dancers, assassins who could dive into darkness to teleport short distances. Nasty little bitches too, even the guys.”

That sounded like the shadow abilities that both Kine and herself possessed. They weren't called “dancers” though, but Kine was more interested in stealing and having a fun time than killing. Merrie had the same interests, though she had not used her powers for steal anything. Her own thoughts brought a smile, even though she took on many traits of her master, that was not one of them.

Trien continued speaking, “Now, when we traded them for script, I noticed that the guards had an interesting setup for keeping them pinned because they were famous for escaping. They had this dark cell but all the hallways around them were really bright. Apparently they weren't capable of ‘dancing’ through wide enough spaces with light. Something about the Shadows, you could almost hear them pronounce the capitalized 'S.'”

He snorted with amusement and jerked the bag. “Guess what I duplicated here? I don't know if you are a shadow dancer, you shouldn't have magic, but you scream like one so good enough, right? Better be right, it took me a long time to steal this many lights.”

Merrie froze, a prickle of fear and frustration rising inside her. She gulped and looked out at the bright light that still beat down on her suffocating bag. She couldn't escape without having her skin burned away, she couldn't focus through the light to see where to run, and she didn't know where to run to minimize her pain.

She was screwed.

When he entered the dark chamber, she knew instantly from the relief. Even though the heavy canvas protected her from the brunt of the light, she didn't realize how much she felt it against her skin. The darkness was a balm, icy and soothing. It spread instantly across her body and she let out a little moan of pleasure.

Before the sound escaped her throat, she was already casting the first of many spells. The calligraphy raced across her mind as she coalesced the darkness around her. She felt it flutter and solidify into a second being: her cloak.

It curled around her body, slithering like a snake. The flutters caressed her breasts, thighs, and then up along her spine. She could feel it reaching into her mind, a questing desire that felt strangely foreign inside her mind. There were hints of calligraphy and crystal in its mind, a construct of shadows and psychic powers.

Feeling the cloak as a separate entity startled her. At first, it was only a reflection of her own thoughts and desires. But feeling it in her mind as something separate made it feel like it had broken free to become its own being. Or it was like the collar, still her own mind but with something that turned her own thoughts into another being's, “her mistress.”

Curiosity raged inside her, but then she remembered her plans. The cloak's senses merged with her own. She felt its entire body along her own as her world blurred. Immediately, it flattened and slithered through the knot at the top of the bag.

Seeing the world without darkness brought a pang of longing. She missed having the powers woven into every waking moment of her life. She pushed back the growing sadness and focused on her goal to escape.

Her prison cell was three meters by three meters. Crumbling rock walls surrounded all sides except for a metal door mounted firmly into the rock. A grill for the door had been boarded over but she could see just a hint of light peeking through it. It cast the entire room in a dim, blue glow. It was enough to see but not much more.

She started to explore the edges of the grill but a bright light pushed her back. Even the cloak began to smolder in the brilliance outside of the cell. Cringing, she worked her way around the rest of the cell, looking for chinks and cracks in the crumbling stone.

Unaware of her actions, Trien set the bag down.

Merrie almost lost focus on her cloak but she managed to cling to both as she felt the rank canvas being pulled off her head and his hands shoved into the bag to grab her breast and shoulder.

His grip was tight and painful as he lifted her off the ground and shook the fabric free. He seemed to be adept at moving despite going from a bright light to darkness only moments before; she wondered if he wasn't affected by his eyes adjusting.

Looking up, she saw the answer: he had a pair of goggles on top of his head. With his dark tattoos, it made him look more like one of the creatures of darkness with shimmering eyes than a human. A shiver of fear raced through her, Trien was turning to be a lot more devious than she planned.

“So, let's see what I got here.” He threw her into the corner of the cell.

Her body slammed against the crumbling rock before sinking into a dust-covered pile of canvas. Thankfully, the fabric didn't stink nearly as much as the bag he used to kidnap her.

Merrie whimpered a she looked at him. In the back of her mind, she was bringing the cloak around the room to look for options.

Trien stepped back and leaned on the wall only centimeters from where the cloak was flowing.

The animated darkness slipped around him without even a whisper of noise.

He chuckled. “Well, you are prettier than I remember.”

She glanced at him. Near his head, the cloak formed into a snake-like ribbon. A long point formed at the tip as it prepared to strike.

“I don't know what is going on in that empty head of yours but let me tell you about your new place. Surrounded by endless bright light. I stole as many of the globes from the village and around here. Some of them are still bright after a thousand years so I'm pretty sure they will stay lit until you are nothing but a corpse.”

Merrie and the cloak froze.

“So if you are thinking about suffocating me with your tits or thighs, just realize you will be starving to death since you can't unlock the door without hands and you can't handle the light.” He folded his arms over his muscular chest. Each arm was equally massive, he looked like he could snap someone in half if he wanted to. “If you want to get out, you better do exactly what I say.”

The cloak relaxed with her fear.

She twisted before getting into a kneeling position. The cool air felt good around her. It contrasted with the despair in her chest, there was no way she was going to get to Ston before Horge.

The cloak finished exploring the cell, its senses overlying across Merrie's as she regarded her kidnapper. There was no other opening, no vent or even a narrow gap. The only escape she could find was through the boarded up grill and she couldn't survive the light that burned outside.

Her pussy tingled as she realized how screwed she was.

Trien dropped his hand to his crotch. “Now, I think it's time to talk about your future.”

Merrie's eyes flickered down to the bulge. He was large even underneath his pants. His fingers easily cupped his large balls, pulling them up to strain at the fabric. His cock was visible through the fabric, looked easily twenty-five centimeters long; almost the side of a thriban but without the knot.

There was a command coming, she knew it. It flooded through her veins like a drug. Slowly, her knees spread apart along the dirty canvas as she stared at her own chance at freedom.

“Get over here, bitch. On your knees.” To one side, his hand balled into fist with his own thoughts.

His command was low and throaty. She could hear his need and it strummed along her senses with a thrill. He had spent weeks planning this, making the prison for a shadow, stealing lights, and waiting for the right time. He was also planning for her to lash out, to disobey and require him to force her.

Her pussy grew slicker with desire.

He wanted her to disobey. He wanted to hurt her.

She wanted it herself.

Slowly, she let her magical spells dissipate. There was no need to use magic just to get beaten and raped. The connection with her cloak dissolve and her magical senses darkened until his body was only lit by the dim light coming through the grill. The weight of the world once again pressed down on her, pushing her into a fragile place where her comfort was solely contingent on her obeying her kidnapper.

Merrie shook her head.

He froze.

“N-No,” she whispered. Her voice was still hoarse but it sounded booming in the confines of the cell.

“What did you say?” he growled.

Her pussy pulsed with need. She almost came just at the sight of his face twisting into a scowl and his other hand balling into a fist. He was going to beat her in a moment.

“I'm not going to be your fucking slave,” she said even as the orgasm started to rise up inside her.

He was on her in a flash, his fist coming up and slamming against her jaw. The impact drove her into the wall, crushing her face up against the rough stone as she lost her balance.

Stars exploded across her vision as she let out a strangled cry. Her orgasm snapped, flooding her body with the purest pleasure as she whipped her head back in time for his slap to catch her across her cheeks.

Trien growled as he fumbled with her hair. His other hand caught her ear and he crushed it against her skull as he dug his fingertips into the side of her head and along her brow. One thick finger slipped along her nose to smash up against her eye.

She let out a gasp.

He slapped her with his right hand. The powerful blow blinded her with the impact. The pain was intense, it only doubled by the finger that was now crushing her eye in its socket.

She flailed, trying to get her balance. Her thighs were slick with her orgasms, the hum of being dominated overwhelming everything and making it almost impossible to concentrate. Harsh cries ripped out of her throat.

Trien slapped her again and again, pummeling her face as he bellowed out with each blow, “You. Will. Fucking. Obey! Me!”

He threw her down, panting. “Now, try again. Get on your damned knees, cunt!”

She tasted blood in her mouth, the sake taste of her darkness teasing her. Inwardly, she smiled with desire. Her collar wold prevent her from being too hurt and she found herself craving the conflict of pain and pleasure. Shaking from the effort and unable to see out of one eye, she let her whimpers of fear rise up as she crawled away.

“Oh, you—” Trien caught her. His knuckles caught the back of her cheek as he slapped her again. Before she could pull her head back, he jammed three fingers up underneath her collar and lifted her body.

At the feeling of being helplessly manhandled, she came again with a shuddering gasp.

He slammed her against the wall. Then he punched her in the stomach hard.

Lost in pleasure, Merrie almost didn't register the agony but Trien made sure she felt it by punching her again and again, slamming his massive paw into her guts until she thought she felt organs rupture.

She felt him lowering and her body tensed.

His fourth strike caught her in the cunt, crushing lips and clitoris in a blast of white-hot agony. The impact was wet, smacking against the walls as he drew back his hand. “What then—?” He started but then he punched her again, slamming his knuckles hard against her pussy with brutal force that shoved her hard against the wall.

“You better not pee on me!”

Merrie let out a sob as one leg went limp. It didn't matter.

He dropped her to the ground.

She slumped forward, her face smacking into his palm as he grabbed her face. He dug his fingers into her air and ground her face into his crotch. The sharp edges of the buttons dug into her face.

He fumbled with his buttons, ripping his pants open and yanking his cock out. The thick member, smelling of man and excitement, snapped out to smack into her face; it felt like being beaten with a stick.

“When I say get on your knees, I mean it!” He grabbed her head with both hands. Digging his thumbs into the sensitive spots below her ears, he jammed her face up against his naked cock. “Suck it, cunt!”

She gasped as she was ground against the hard, soaked shaft. His hairy balls rolled on her chin before she was pulled back and thrust into it again. The tip of his cock smacked against her cheek.

Trien crouched and tightened his grip. “Suck it!”

He slammed his hips forward and pulled her toward it at the same time.

Reflexively, Merrie opened her mouth to catch his cock head but it slipped. The slick head smeared across her cheek before jamming into her injured eye.

He pulled back and tried again, thrusting his entire body into her face as his cock battered her face cruelly. It only took a couple of thrusts before pre-cum started to drip off her cheeks and forehead.

Then he managed to strike. The thick cock head drove into her mouth, scraping along her teeth before shoving to the back of her throat.

She gagged at the suddenness but then moaned.

Trien tightened his grip and began to hammer his cock into her mouth. The tip punched at the back of her throat, battering at her resistance as he took short strokes that shoved her head back into his hands. He yanked her forward as much as he thrust.

There was a taste of blood and then his head managed to slip into her throat. She felt the pressure against her collar as he buried twenty centimeters into her mouth. He was incredible thick, a glorious girth that stretched her lips and strained her throat.

Trien's strokes never gave her a moment of pause. His hips moved with hammer-like speed as he kept his cock impaling the tightness of her throat. He only pulled out enough to reach the back of her throat before slamming it forward again. Each thrust drove his cock deep into her body until his balls smacked against her chin and her face was buried in the short, curly hairs at his base.

Merrie's stomach heaved with her gagging. She strained her wrists against his thighs but she knew she couldn't or wouldn't stop him. The pleasure of being brutally face-fucked sent her from one orgasm to the other. Her juices were dripping down her thighs and soaking into the canvas. She gulped and gurgled around the cock which only seemed to inspire Trien to pound her faster.

A powerful thrust of his cock smashed her head against the rock wall. She was pinned between his hands and the hard spot, her throat struggling to keep the cock was was only taking deep strokes that left her struggling to breathe.

Her legs slipped out form underneath her as she gagged even louder on his cock.

“Fuck!” he screamed. With a single blow, he rammed all of his cock into her lips and smashed her nose against his pubis. The thick swell of his balls strained her lips as he buried every centimeter into her hot, willing mouth.

He came. His cock swelled and spewed cum directly into her belly. The heat of his orgasm flooded across her senses.

Merrie weakly struggled against it. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't do anything but flail her legs as her orgasm ravaged her body. Thick torrents of her own cum soaked the ground underneath her as black stars swam across her vision.

Trien didn't pull out. He kept his hips jammed against her face as he continued to empty his balls into her body.

The second ticked by.

Merrie's lungs ached for breath.

He shoved forward, grinding her back and forth against the now-bloody wall. His muscles easily pinned her as his cock continued to jerk. It didn't soften nor did it give her a chance to draw in even a single iota of air.

Her vision darkened. The lack of air made her orgasms more intense until it felt like a thousand knives were ripping across her body as she thrashed helplessly.

“Fucking cunt!” he roared and slammed his cock, and her head, against the wall. A fresh surge of cum spurted out of his shaft and flooded into her stomach. His stomach ground into her face, crushing her nose and lips with his weight.

Merrie's body shuddered. She was suffocating. She knew it was turning him on and that her collar would ensure she could survive it, but there was a brief moment when she wondered if the collar still worked.