By Lespion1944
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The Elven Chronicles
Episode Four
The Curse of the Aurelanian
Chapter 4 Goblin
For an instant Alyea did not know what had happened. Her head spun from the sudden change in position and a searing pain shot through her right leg where it had been jerked out from under her. As she slowly spun back to reality she realized that she was looking up the length of her body into the branches of the great oak. She had stepped into a trap that had whipped her off her feet. She was dangling from a long rope, her head about two feet from the ground her fingers trailing in the leaves of the forest floor.
“Hee, hee,” the Goblin giggled. “Pretty woman not watch where she going. Pretty woman belong to Bartoc now.”
A moment of panic shot through Alyea. She twisted her body in an attempt to escape. And then she calmed, bringing her warrior training to the fore. Her knife. If she could just reach her knife. It was lying just a few feet away, along with her bow and quiver. By stretching out as far as she could she could get her fingers to within a foot of it. But that was as close as she could get. Even shifting her weight to make the rope swing brought her no nearer and while she struggled the Goblin danced around her shouting insults.
“Stupid pretty woman. Bartoc trick you. Make you fall into Bartoc’s trap. Now Bartoc do what he want with you.” The Goblin cackled fiendishly, dancing just out of reach of Alyea’s grasping fingers.
Alyea twisted on the end of the rope. By now the rope had cut deeply into her ankle, as she thrashed around on the end of the rope. Her head was beginning to swim as the blood rushed into it and she was breathing hard. Completely humiliated by the stunning turn of events, she also seethed with anger at the way she had stupidly fallen into the Goblin’s trap. She was in deadly danger. In spite of the Goblin’s seeming levity its words clearly revealed its intent and Alyea knew what happened to women who fell into Goblin hands.
She fought to calm herself, realizing that her desperate struggles had brought her no closer to escape. Suddenly she realized what she had to do. Bending her body she reached up until she could reach the rope that cut into her ankle. It was skillfully woven from grass, and easily strong enough that no amount of struggling would break it. However, there was a way to escape provided no Goblin reinforcements showed up.
Gripping the rope with both hands she strained her muscles in an impressive show of strength, taking her body weight onto her arms and slackening the rope that held her ankle. She felt immediate relief as the pain of the rope that had bitten into her flesh diminished slightly. She flexed her ankle. With a little bit of patience she would be able to work it free.
“Uuuhhh!” The stab of pain was so acute she let go of the rope and fell full length once again, throwing all of her weight back onto her ankle. She almost screamed at the sudden agony. Twisting again at the end of the rope, she twisted her body to see the Goblin standing almost within arms’ reach. In his hand he held what appeared to be nothing more than the stem of a stinging nettle.
“Hee, hee,” the Goblin giggled. “Witch-nettle. Poison. Much pain.” He drew back his arm and swung the nettle toward her again.
Snake-like, Alyea’s hand darted out and caught the nettle. “Aaghh!” Agonizing pain shot through her fingers and up her arm. Her arm went dead, hanging limply, the fingers trailing against the ground.
“Pretty woman stupid,” the Goblin cackled. “Witch-nettle stings. Burns.” He moved around her and struck again, bringing the nettle down across her backside.
“Aaahh!” Strong as she was, Alyea could not hold back her cry of pain as the nettle touched her skin. The pain was excruciating, driving every thought from her mind in a wave of white-hot searing agony.
“Strong woman,” the Goblin commented. “But this tame you. This make you into Bartoc’s slave. Then Bartoc do whatever he want with you.”
No! Alyea thought. This couldn’t be happening. She had been captured by a single Goblin, and a small one at that. And it was going to torture her into submission. It took no imagination at all to realize what it intended to do to her once she was too weak to resist. The humiliation had her close to weeping in shame. Got to resist, she thought. Got to fight. Not let him defeat me.
“Eeahh!” The nettle struck again, this time across the small of her back. Once again the pain was incredible. It felt as if a razor blade was being drawn down her skin, but there was no blood, just piercing agony that lasted long after the nettle struck.
“Anghh!” This time the Goblin had targeted her breasts. The pain was so intense that Alyea looked to see if her magnificent globes had been cut open. To her relief they were intact, but the quivering mounds of flesh now had a long thin welt across them, extending from nipple to nipple. They throbbed with pain.
While she gazed at her burning breasts the Goblin struck again. Pain exploded between her legs. For a second her vision blurred and dark spots danced before her eyes as the unbelievable agony drove her to the edge of unconsciousness.
“No,” she muttered. “I can’t let that happen.” If she passed out from the pain she would be completely at the Goblin’s mercy. It was something she could not allow to happen. But it was clearly what the Goblin intended. He struck her again the sting of the witch-nettle setting her belly on fire.
Her resistance broke and words bubbled out of her mouth, words no warrior should ever speak. “No,” she gasped. “Stop. I can give you things. You can have my horse, my armour, my weapons. Anything you want if you will let me go. I will leave with nothing and promise not to come back if you just let me go.”
Even as the shameful words poured out of her knew that she had completely dishonoured herself, but she could not hold them back. Her body burned as if a thousand fires had been lit just beneath the surface of her skin. In her fear and agony, honour now meant nothing to her. Forgotten was her warrior heritage; instead she reverted to a frightened young woman desperate to escape the pain and horror of her ordeal.
The Goblin cackled with glee. “Bartoc already have what he wants. Don’t need horse. Will soon ride pretty woman. And then I take her to chief Goblin.”
Alyea whimpered in fear just before the nettle struck her again. This time it was her back once more and the pain caused her incredible body to convulse with pain. She screamed. The pain just would not stop, every touch of the nettle seeming to increase the agony that coursed through her body.
The Goblin struck her again and again, raining blows onto her defenseless body. And then suddenly he stopped. There was a loud cackle right by her ear. The Goblin was standing so close Alyea could easily have grabbed him, but it was too late. She had no strength left, and could only hang helplessly while he taunted her. “Pretty woman almost finished. Soon Bartoc have pretty woman for his plaything. But first need new witch-nettle. This one all worn out.”
The Goblin tossed down the nettle and disappeared. Alyea could hear him trampling through the brush on the edge of the clearing, and then he returned, holding in his hand another bright green stem of fresh nettle. “No, please,” Alyea begged.
“This finish you,” the Goblin gloated. “You soon be mine.” Moving around her he touched the nettle to her body, targeting her breasts, back, and buttocks, and once or twice the especially tender area between her legs. She screamed and kept on screaming, but incredibly managed to fight off the blackness that threatened to overwhelm her. Dishonoured and in excruciating pain, at the end she rediscovered her raw barbarian courage. She did not beg or plead, but fought the pain with every fibre of her being.
But the outcome of her brutal torture was never in doubt. Slowly as the poison of the witch-nettle burned into her, her senses faded, until finally the pain faded and she lapsed into darkness.
When she awoke she was aware of her body throbbing with pain. She was also aware of the fact that she was no longer hanging upside down. Instead she was lying face up beneath the giant oak. Overhead she could see its spreading branches and its dense screen of leaves. Memories of what had been done to her came flooding back and she tried to move. It was then that she found that she was staked out on the ground, her arms and legs secured to stout pegs that had been driven deep into the soil.
She strained her body, but succeeded only tightening the ropes that bound her wrists and ankles. She was spread-eagled, wide open to anything the Goblin wanted to do to her, and her tormentor was not far away.
“Hee, hee,” the Goblin giggled, suddenly bouncing into view. “Pretty woman awake. Pretty woman helpless. Pretty woman mine.”
He placed his fingers on Alyea’s right breast as he finished speaking, emphasizing his ownership of her body. Slowly he stroked her breasts, running his clawed fingers over her quivering flesh and raking the upright nipples with his claws.
Alyea’s breathing quickened, her breasts rising and falling and her diaphragm contracting as the Goblin stroked her body. No, she thought, Please no. But she kept her fear hidden. She had already dishonoured herself enough.
“Pretty woman all mine. Bartoc take pretty woman now.” As the Goblin spoke he moved between her legs and removed his soiled loincloth. Alyea gasped in fear. In spite of his tiny stature the Goblin was not lacking in the development of his manhood, or perhaps Goblinhood, to be more precise. It was the size of that of a normal Human male with one major difference. Just before the glans of his penis the flesh flared out into two thorny barbs, each about half an inch long. Alyea knew nothing about the anatomy of female Goblins, but it must be quite different from hers if they were capable of receiving such an obviously painful phallus.
Her eyes widened in fear. “No,” she protested. “I’m not a Goblin. You can’t put that thing into me.”
“Bartoc will see if he can,” the Goblin cackled. He moved toward her and straddled her waist, his barbed phallus dangling just below her breasts. Leaning forward he poked the tip of his penis into her navel and then closed his mouth over her right nipple.
“Aaaah!” Alyea cried out as the Goblin’s fangs pierced her breasts. The pain was agonizing and got worse as he sucked, twin streams of blood running down either side of her areola. He dug his clawed fingers into her breasts, squeezing the firm flesh, and scoring her skin with his claws. Four bloody parallel stripes extended from the top of her breasts, and down her ribcage, ending just above her heaving belly.
“May the Goddess protect me,” Alyea cried, her voice breaking. She was overcome with fear and horror. But there was no miraculous rescue form her ordeal.
“No Goddess,” the Goblin smirked, raising its bloody lips from her bleeding breasts. “Now Bartoc take pretty woman.”
“Noo! Noooh!” Alyea cried. She heaved her body trying to shake the Goblin loose as he prepared to mount her, but he dug his sharp claws into her backside, and holding on like grim death, forced his way into her.
“Eeeaaggh!” Alyea screamed as the barbed phallus parted the lips of her vulva and ripped away her virginity. Then she screamed even louder as he plunged into her. She was quite literally being torn apart, and the shame and pain of her ordeal stripped away the last vestiges of her resistance. She was completely broken and she sobbed and screamed as the Goblin had his way with her. Heaving his small body against hers he forced his way deeper with every stroke until finally, overcome with pain and exhaustion, she fainted.
She awoke to a world of pain and worse. Her body screamed in agony, from the stripes of the witch-nettle that covered her torso, to her bruised and bleeding breasts, and ravaged nether region. She was no longer staked to the ground. The Goblin had taken advantage of her escape from consciousness to untie the ropes that bound her wrists and ankles to the pegs and instead had tightly bound her wrists behind her and tethered her ankles. She was lying on her side, but the Goblin didn’t let her stay that way long. Using her own knife he prodded her into first a sitting and then a standing position.
Somehow she made it to her feet, swaying from exhaustion. “Good,” the Goblin said. “Now take you to chief, but first clean you up. Chief no like you with too much blood.” Poking Alyea with the point of the knife he urged her toward the pool of water where he had first taunted her. Barely able to walk, Alyea forced herself forward, until reaching the water she waded in.
“Go deeper,’ the Goblin ordered. “Wash off all blood.”
The shock of the cold water snapped Alyea out of her lethargy. For a brief instant she considered defying the Goblin. If she waded out into deeper water he would not be able to follow her, but she immediately gave up the idea. Even if she resorted to so desperate a measure it would do no good. She would simply be trapped in the pool and the Goblin would simply outwait her or even worse, wait until she was overcome by cold and drowned.
For a second the idea of ending it all entered her mind. What did have she have left to lose? She had already lost everything that mattered to her: her honour, her dignity, and her courage, but her barbarian stubborness would not let her give in. There was only one way to redeem herself, and that was to face up to her fate and fight to the very end. So she did as the Goblin ordered, ducking her athletic yet voluptuous body until the stain of her dishonour was washed away. Then she returned to the edge of the pool and stood shivering in the early evening air.
“Come,” the Goblin urged. “We warm you up.”
Alyea’s legs almost buckled at those words, but to her surprise and relief the Goblin simply led her to the campsite, where taking out flint and steel, he struck a spark and soon had a good fire going.
The Goblin tossed wood into the flames until he had a roaring blaze that soon drove away the shivers from Alyea’s trembling body. It did not, however, get rid of the hollow feeling of terror that was deep in the pit of her stomach, and she had to force herself to eat when the Goblin prepared some of her food and spooned it into her.
“Pretty woman good,” the Goblin crooned. “Eat. Keep up strength. Need strength for long walk tomorrow.”
Alyea shuddered. Although she had survived rape and torture her hideous ordeal was just beginning. She would need all of her strength and courage to see her through it.
Tomorrow dawned soon enough, announced by the crackling of the fire that the Goblin had revived. Alyea groaned as she awoke, her ravished body protesting. It seemed that every part of her body hurt, but worst of all was the throbbing agony between her thighs that reminded her vividly of her complete dishonour. Awaiting her, however, was probably a worse fate than what she had already experienced and she was immediately reminded of that by what the Goblin did next.
“Pretty woman awake,” it cackled. “Now get pretty woman ready for march.” He reached into the fire and took out a long thin needle heated bright red.
“What are you going to do with that?” Alyea quavered.
“This make you obedient. No give Bartoc any trouble on walk.”
Alyea made a sudden attempt to escape, but found that not only were her wrists still bound, but the Goblin had tied her ankles together while she slept. She could only watch, her azure-blue eyes wide with fear as the Goblin pinched her left breast, forcing the nipple erect and then pushed the red-hot needle through the base of the nipple.
There was the hiss and stink of burning flesh and another excruciating stab of pain as the needle pierced her nipple. The Goblin turned the needle, enlarging the wound, and then removed it, returning it to the fire. Remarkably, with a level of courage she did not know she had, Alyea gritted her teeth through the ordeal, but she knew that the Goblin was not quite finished. The Goblin heated the needle again and performed the same procedure on her right nipple. Then he took out two brass rings and worked them though the piercings. Flicking each ring with his finger to make sure that it was properly in place, he next attached a small length of brass chain to each ring, connecting each of her nipples. Throughout, Alyea remained calm, fighting back the urge to scream.
“Pretty woman strong,” the Goblin said admiringly. Make good gift for Goblin chief.”
His ornamentation finished, the Goblin prepared breakfast, feeding Alyea as before. Then he attached a rope to the chain between her breasts, and tethering her ankles once again, gave her a tug in the direction he wanted her to go.
Alyea obeyed instantly. There was no other choice if she did not want the rings torn from her nipples, and even the slight tug was incredibly painful. Whistling a bizarre little Goblin tune, the Goblin set off, his much larger but completely helpless and demoralized captive trailing behind him.
As the bizarre couple marched out of sight the bushes at the edge of the clearing parted, and a strange, dark figure emerged. Alyea’s horse, which had remained quiet through all of her mistress’s hideous ordeal suddenly started, its ears going back as it rolled its eyes at the intruder. Ignoring the horse, the dark presence stared at the departing barbarian and Goblin. “Well, that was interesting,” it murmured. “I think I’ll follow to see what else happens.”
Episode Four
The Curse of the Aurelanian
Chapter 4 Goblin
For an instant Alyea did not know what had happened. Her head spun from the sudden change in position and a searing pain shot through her right leg where it had been jerked out from under her. As she slowly spun back to reality she realized that she was looking up the length of her body into the branches of the great oak. She had stepped into a trap that had whipped her off her feet. She was dangling from a long rope, her head about two feet from the ground her fingers trailing in the leaves of the forest floor.
“Hee, hee,” the Goblin giggled. “Pretty woman not watch where she going. Pretty woman belong to Bartoc now.”
A moment of panic shot through Alyea. She twisted her body in an attempt to escape. And then she calmed, bringing her warrior training to the fore. Her knife. If she could just reach her knife. It was lying just a few feet away, along with her bow and quiver. By stretching out as far as she could she could get her fingers to within a foot of it. But that was as close as she could get. Even shifting her weight to make the rope swing brought her no nearer and while she struggled the Goblin danced around her shouting insults.
“Stupid pretty woman. Bartoc trick you. Make you fall into Bartoc’s trap. Now Bartoc do what he want with you.” The Goblin cackled fiendishly, dancing just out of reach of Alyea’s grasping fingers.
Alyea twisted on the end of the rope. By now the rope had cut deeply into her ankle, as she thrashed around on the end of the rope. Her head was beginning to swim as the blood rushed into it and she was breathing hard. Completely humiliated by the stunning turn of events, she also seethed with anger at the way she had stupidly fallen into the Goblin’s trap. She was in deadly danger. In spite of the Goblin’s seeming levity its words clearly revealed its intent and Alyea knew what happened to women who fell into Goblin hands.
She fought to calm herself, realizing that her desperate struggles had brought her no closer to escape. Suddenly she realized what she had to do. Bending her body she reached up until she could reach the rope that cut into her ankle. It was skillfully woven from grass, and easily strong enough that no amount of struggling would break it. However, there was a way to escape provided no Goblin reinforcements showed up.
Gripping the rope with both hands she strained her muscles in an impressive show of strength, taking her body weight onto her arms and slackening the rope that held her ankle. She felt immediate relief as the pain of the rope that had bitten into her flesh diminished slightly. She flexed her ankle. With a little bit of patience she would be able to work it free.
“Uuuhhh!” The stab of pain was so acute she let go of the rope and fell full length once again, throwing all of her weight back onto her ankle. She almost screamed at the sudden agony. Twisting again at the end of the rope, she twisted her body to see the Goblin standing almost within arms’ reach. In his hand he held what appeared to be nothing more than the stem of a stinging nettle.
“Hee, hee,” the Goblin giggled. “Witch-nettle. Poison. Much pain.” He drew back his arm and swung the nettle toward her again.
Snake-like, Alyea’s hand darted out and caught the nettle. “Aaghh!” Agonizing pain shot through her fingers and up her arm. Her arm went dead, hanging limply, the fingers trailing against the ground.
“Pretty woman stupid,” the Goblin cackled. “Witch-nettle stings. Burns.” He moved around her and struck again, bringing the nettle down across her backside.
“Aaahh!” Strong as she was, Alyea could not hold back her cry of pain as the nettle touched her skin. The pain was excruciating, driving every thought from her mind in a wave of white-hot searing agony.
“Strong woman,” the Goblin commented. “But this tame you. This make you into Bartoc’s slave. Then Bartoc do whatever he want with you.”
No! Alyea thought. This couldn’t be happening. She had been captured by a single Goblin, and a small one at that. And it was going to torture her into submission. It took no imagination at all to realize what it intended to do to her once she was too weak to resist. The humiliation had her close to weeping in shame. Got to resist, she thought. Got to fight. Not let him defeat me.
“Eeahh!” The nettle struck again, this time across the small of her back. Once again the pain was incredible. It felt as if a razor blade was being drawn down her skin, but there was no blood, just piercing agony that lasted long after the nettle struck.
“Anghh!” This time the Goblin had targeted her breasts. The pain was so intense that Alyea looked to see if her magnificent globes had been cut open. To her relief they were intact, but the quivering mounds of flesh now had a long thin welt across them, extending from nipple to nipple. They throbbed with pain.
While she gazed at her burning breasts the Goblin struck again. Pain exploded between her legs. For a second her vision blurred and dark spots danced before her eyes as the unbelievable agony drove her to the edge of unconsciousness.
“No,” she muttered. “I can’t let that happen.” If she passed out from the pain she would be completely at the Goblin’s mercy. It was something she could not allow to happen. But it was clearly what the Goblin intended. He struck her again the sting of the witch-nettle setting her belly on fire.
Her resistance broke and words bubbled out of her mouth, words no warrior should ever speak. “No,” she gasped. “Stop. I can give you things. You can have my horse, my armour, my weapons. Anything you want if you will let me go. I will leave with nothing and promise not to come back if you just let me go.”
Even as the shameful words poured out of her knew that she had completely dishonoured herself, but she could not hold them back. Her body burned as if a thousand fires had been lit just beneath the surface of her skin. In her fear and agony, honour now meant nothing to her. Forgotten was her warrior heritage; instead she reverted to a frightened young woman desperate to escape the pain and horror of her ordeal.
The Goblin cackled with glee. “Bartoc already have what he wants. Don’t need horse. Will soon ride pretty woman. And then I take her to chief Goblin.”
Alyea whimpered in fear just before the nettle struck her again. This time it was her back once more and the pain caused her incredible body to convulse with pain. She screamed. The pain just would not stop, every touch of the nettle seeming to increase the agony that coursed through her body.
The Goblin struck her again and again, raining blows onto her defenseless body. And then suddenly he stopped. There was a loud cackle right by her ear. The Goblin was standing so close Alyea could easily have grabbed him, but it was too late. She had no strength left, and could only hang helplessly while he taunted her. “Pretty woman almost finished. Soon Bartoc have pretty woman for his plaything. But first need new witch-nettle. This one all worn out.”
The Goblin tossed down the nettle and disappeared. Alyea could hear him trampling through the brush on the edge of the clearing, and then he returned, holding in his hand another bright green stem of fresh nettle. “No, please,” Alyea begged.
“This finish you,” the Goblin gloated. “You soon be mine.” Moving around her he touched the nettle to her body, targeting her breasts, back, and buttocks, and once or twice the especially tender area between her legs. She screamed and kept on screaming, but incredibly managed to fight off the blackness that threatened to overwhelm her. Dishonoured and in excruciating pain, at the end she rediscovered her raw barbarian courage. She did not beg or plead, but fought the pain with every fibre of her being.
But the outcome of her brutal torture was never in doubt. Slowly as the poison of the witch-nettle burned into her, her senses faded, until finally the pain faded and she lapsed into darkness.
When she awoke she was aware of her body throbbing with pain. She was also aware of the fact that she was no longer hanging upside down. Instead she was lying face up beneath the giant oak. Overhead she could see its spreading branches and its dense screen of leaves. Memories of what had been done to her came flooding back and she tried to move. It was then that she found that she was staked out on the ground, her arms and legs secured to stout pegs that had been driven deep into the soil.
She strained her body, but succeeded only tightening the ropes that bound her wrists and ankles. She was spread-eagled, wide open to anything the Goblin wanted to do to her, and her tormentor was not far away.
“Hee, hee,” the Goblin giggled, suddenly bouncing into view. “Pretty woman awake. Pretty woman helpless. Pretty woman mine.”
He placed his fingers on Alyea’s right breast as he finished speaking, emphasizing his ownership of her body. Slowly he stroked her breasts, running his clawed fingers over her quivering flesh and raking the upright nipples with his claws.
Alyea’s breathing quickened, her breasts rising and falling and her diaphragm contracting as the Goblin stroked her body. No, she thought, Please no. But she kept her fear hidden. She had already dishonoured herself enough.
“Pretty woman all mine. Bartoc take pretty woman now.” As the Goblin spoke he moved between her legs and removed his soiled loincloth. Alyea gasped in fear. In spite of his tiny stature the Goblin was not lacking in the development of his manhood, or perhaps Goblinhood, to be more precise. It was the size of that of a normal Human male with one major difference. Just before the glans of his penis the flesh flared out into two thorny barbs, each about half an inch long. Alyea knew nothing about the anatomy of female Goblins, but it must be quite different from hers if they were capable of receiving such an obviously painful phallus.
Her eyes widened in fear. “No,” she protested. “I’m not a Goblin. You can’t put that thing into me.”
“Bartoc will see if he can,” the Goblin cackled. He moved toward her and straddled her waist, his barbed phallus dangling just below her breasts. Leaning forward he poked the tip of his penis into her navel and then closed his mouth over her right nipple.
“Aaaah!” Alyea cried out as the Goblin’s fangs pierced her breasts. The pain was agonizing and got worse as he sucked, twin streams of blood running down either side of her areola. He dug his clawed fingers into her breasts, squeezing the firm flesh, and scoring her skin with his claws. Four bloody parallel stripes extended from the top of her breasts, and down her ribcage, ending just above her heaving belly.
“May the Goddess protect me,” Alyea cried, her voice breaking. She was overcome with fear and horror. But there was no miraculous rescue form her ordeal.
“No Goddess,” the Goblin smirked, raising its bloody lips from her bleeding breasts. “Now Bartoc take pretty woman.”
“Noo! Noooh!” Alyea cried. She heaved her body trying to shake the Goblin loose as he prepared to mount her, but he dug his sharp claws into her backside, and holding on like grim death, forced his way into her.
“Eeeaaggh!” Alyea screamed as the barbed phallus parted the lips of her vulva and ripped away her virginity. Then she screamed even louder as he plunged into her. She was quite literally being torn apart, and the shame and pain of her ordeal stripped away the last vestiges of her resistance. She was completely broken and she sobbed and screamed as the Goblin had his way with her. Heaving his small body against hers he forced his way deeper with every stroke until finally, overcome with pain and exhaustion, she fainted.
She awoke to a world of pain and worse. Her body screamed in agony, from the stripes of the witch-nettle that covered her torso, to her bruised and bleeding breasts, and ravaged nether region. She was no longer staked to the ground. The Goblin had taken advantage of her escape from consciousness to untie the ropes that bound her wrists and ankles to the pegs and instead had tightly bound her wrists behind her and tethered her ankles. She was lying on her side, but the Goblin didn’t let her stay that way long. Using her own knife he prodded her into first a sitting and then a standing position.
Somehow she made it to her feet, swaying from exhaustion. “Good,” the Goblin said. “Now take you to chief, but first clean you up. Chief no like you with too much blood.” Poking Alyea with the point of the knife he urged her toward the pool of water where he had first taunted her. Barely able to walk, Alyea forced herself forward, until reaching the water she waded in.
“Go deeper,’ the Goblin ordered. “Wash off all blood.”
The shock of the cold water snapped Alyea out of her lethargy. For a brief instant she considered defying the Goblin. If she waded out into deeper water he would not be able to follow her, but she immediately gave up the idea. Even if she resorted to so desperate a measure it would do no good. She would simply be trapped in the pool and the Goblin would simply outwait her or even worse, wait until she was overcome by cold and drowned.
For a second the idea of ending it all entered her mind. What did have she have left to lose? She had already lost everything that mattered to her: her honour, her dignity, and her courage, but her barbarian stubborness would not let her give in. There was only one way to redeem herself, and that was to face up to her fate and fight to the very end. So she did as the Goblin ordered, ducking her athletic yet voluptuous body until the stain of her dishonour was washed away. Then she returned to the edge of the pool and stood shivering in the early evening air.
“Come,” the Goblin urged. “We warm you up.”
Alyea’s legs almost buckled at those words, but to her surprise and relief the Goblin simply led her to the campsite, where taking out flint and steel, he struck a spark and soon had a good fire going.
The Goblin tossed wood into the flames until he had a roaring blaze that soon drove away the shivers from Alyea’s trembling body. It did not, however, get rid of the hollow feeling of terror that was deep in the pit of her stomach, and she had to force herself to eat when the Goblin prepared some of her food and spooned it into her.
“Pretty woman good,” the Goblin crooned. “Eat. Keep up strength. Need strength for long walk tomorrow.”
Alyea shuddered. Although she had survived rape and torture her hideous ordeal was just beginning. She would need all of her strength and courage to see her through it.
Tomorrow dawned soon enough, announced by the crackling of the fire that the Goblin had revived. Alyea groaned as she awoke, her ravished body protesting. It seemed that every part of her body hurt, but worst of all was the throbbing agony between her thighs that reminded her vividly of her complete dishonour. Awaiting her, however, was probably a worse fate than what she had already experienced and she was immediately reminded of that by what the Goblin did next.
“Pretty woman awake,” it cackled. “Now get pretty woman ready for march.” He reached into the fire and took out a long thin needle heated bright red.
“What are you going to do with that?” Alyea quavered.
“This make you obedient. No give Bartoc any trouble on walk.”
Alyea made a sudden attempt to escape, but found that not only were her wrists still bound, but the Goblin had tied her ankles together while she slept. She could only watch, her azure-blue eyes wide with fear as the Goblin pinched her left breast, forcing the nipple erect and then pushed the red-hot needle through the base of the nipple.
There was the hiss and stink of burning flesh and another excruciating stab of pain as the needle pierced her nipple. The Goblin turned the needle, enlarging the wound, and then removed it, returning it to the fire. Remarkably, with a level of courage she did not know she had, Alyea gritted her teeth through the ordeal, but she knew that the Goblin was not quite finished. The Goblin heated the needle again and performed the same procedure on her right nipple. Then he took out two brass rings and worked them though the piercings. Flicking each ring with his finger to make sure that it was properly in place, he next attached a small length of brass chain to each ring, connecting each of her nipples. Throughout, Alyea remained calm, fighting back the urge to scream.
“Pretty woman strong,” the Goblin said admiringly. Make good gift for Goblin chief.”
His ornamentation finished, the Goblin prepared breakfast, feeding Alyea as before. Then he attached a rope to the chain between her breasts, and tethering her ankles once again, gave her a tug in the direction he wanted her to go.
Alyea obeyed instantly. There was no other choice if she did not want the rings torn from her nipples, and even the slight tug was incredibly painful. Whistling a bizarre little Goblin tune, the Goblin set off, his much larger but completely helpless and demoralized captive trailing behind him.
As the bizarre couple marched out of sight the bushes at the edge of the clearing parted, and a strange, dark figure emerged. Alyea’s horse, which had remained quiet through all of her mistress’s hideous ordeal suddenly started, its ears going back as it rolled its eyes at the intruder. Ignoring the horse, the dark presence stared at the departing barbarian and Goblin. “Well, that was interesting,” it murmured. “I think I’ll follow to see what else happens.”
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