Bindings of the Subjugator Ch. 01

This is my first submission to this site, please be gentle.

No sex this chapter, but there will be a bunch later down the road.

This story will include themes that might be... unpleasant to some people, such as rape, mind control, domination, slavery, physical abuse. If that's not your thing I respect that, but you probably shouldn't read this.

All characters who will be involved in sexual acts will always be above the age of 18.

Chapter 01: Fateful Encounter

Fleeing for her life, she finds... Him.

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The sun would soon be setting on the Dumal Barony. For most, it would be an evening much like any other, but in a forest near the lord's mansion known by the locals as the Backwoods, a small figure ran through the brush as fast as her small, weak legs could carry her.

Emily's day could not be going any worse. She had been a slave for as long as she could remember, but the exhaustion she felt now was very new to her. Scrubbing the floors of Castle Dumal did not exert the body in the same way running for one's life did, and the adrenaline was beginning to run out. She ran and ran, distracting herself from the protests of her lungs by reminding herself what would happen to her when she was caught.

Emily was not stupid enough to believe she could get away, and she knew she would be in for a very extensive punishment tonight. She wasn't making it out of this one unscarred, that was for sure. The baron did enjoy 'disciplining' his maids... or "punish his bad girls", as he liked to put it.

That was how Emily's day had begun. With her Master's dick in her mouth.

She was brought out of her thoughts by the hungry bark of the hounds, which were getting noticeably closer every time she heard them. Maybe her day could get worse after all. Her legs and her lungs screamed for respite, but she could not bring herself to give up on the delusion of freedom. Besides, if she were to collapse and die from exhaustion, that wouldn't be so bad. Better than a lifetime of rape and abuse.

The dread she felt was so complete, it took Emily a few seconds to realize it was not entirely her own. There was a presence, down further into the woods... Dark and malicious, yet alluring and fascinating. An abyss so deep she could not look away. A presence she could not ignore. It felt like it was so much more than her, it could at any moment crush her like a bug... or protect her from any harm. The only word she knew that could describe what she felt was Dominance. Driven by instinct alone, she sought the dark, like a moth to a flame. It guided her way, and she ran towards it, terrified and curious. If she had still been lucid, she would have noticed that the hounds had stopped their infernal barking. But nothing else mattered. The dark called. She would answer.

As she ran into the clearing, the fog in her mind began to dissipate. The dread was still there, but now she could see the source. At the center of the clearing, in a circle about 20 ft in diameter, the grass had been turned to ash. Within the circle stood a creature unlike any Emily had ever seen.

Despite having a hunched back, it towered over her at 8 ft tall and was almost as wide in its hulking mass. A titan of muscle, its skin was an ebon grey and intricate, glowing blood red patterns marked its body from head to toe. It had 6 digits at the ends of both hands and feet, which were each adorned with long sharp claws. It had two large, rounded horns, reminiscent of a mouflon sheep's, and its eyes had neither iris nor pupil, they were a uniform, blazing orange, like windows into hell itself. Finally, it had a long, thick, scaly tail, which curled down to the ground behind him.

When Emily made eye contact with the demon, it was clear that it had been waiting for her. Its maw twitched into a sadistic grin as it revealed rows of long jagged teeth.

*******

When Nergal awoke, he could not remember anything. His memory was completely blank, as though he had just now been blinked into existence, yet he knew for a fact that this could not be true. Try as he might, nothing came to him.

Taking in his surroundings, Nergal... wait... Nergal. That was a start. The very least one should know is his own name. Though he could tell he had not been addressed as such in a very long time. Titles such as Lord and Master rang much more familiar. Yes, all would come back into place once again in due time. One must only be patient.

Without distraction this time, Nergal took in his surroundings. He was in a forest, and he could sense the life force of countless small critters among the trees, as they prepared for the fast-approaching night. The grass at his feet did not join into the chorus of life, for he had instinctively drained it, and it now laid dry and withered. The forest was eerily quiet, as bug and bird alike were suppressed into fear by his mere presence. Everything around him was so far beneath him that he hesitated to even bother laying claim to it. Yet he did all the same. It was simply in his nature.

As he infused his surroundings with his very essence, marking it as his, an act as natural to him as breathing, he came to a startling realization. This was the extent of his domain. He had nothing else. Only a gaping void where abundance should have been. That felt wrong somehow. There should be so much he already owned, it was absurd to think his territory was limited to a mere few acres of trees and some inconsequential beasts. With a sigh, the demon interrupted his claim to reflect inwards. He felt around, and did finally come across something. It was so faint; it was no wonder he had missed it. Two of his possessions still remained his, yet their presence was distant and weak. That still didn't feel right. There had to be more. But there wasn't. Another of his kind had claimed what was rightfully his. He had been stolen from. Yes, that was it. Nergal could not remember this happening, yet he knew for a fact that it had.

Irritated to have lost so much, he returned to his claim. That was when he sensed it, right there, at the edge of his mental projection. The unmistakable presence of a sentient creature nearby. Had his mysterious enemy come to finish the job? No... The presence was pathetically weak, he felt it in his soul. But laying claim to a sentient being, no matter how wretched, was a far greater task than mere land and beasts. Regardless, it would have to do. He needed thralls to carry out his will, and one had conveniently appeared right before him, as if on cue. Yes, this was quite a fortunate tiding.

Once more, Nergal interrupted his claim to focus the entirety of his will onto that one small presence. It never stood a chance. Like a moth to a flame, it changed course to run towards him. As it drew closer, the edges of its soul became clearer. He could tell that it was a human female, and that she was in a state of panic. He could practically taste the drip of her terror and desperation. She was being chased, hunted like a rat. Curious, he extended the range of his detection... There they were. Three sentients and two beasts.

With a flick of his will, he claimed the beasts... and instantly regretted it. The echo of their bark filled his mind, threatening his focus. He forcefully compelled them to silence, called them to his side, and then turned his attention back to his original prey. She would soon enter the clearing where he stood. Any moment now... There she was.

Truly a spectacularly pathetic creature. A pitiful wretch among wretches. She stood at a puny 4' 9" and was clearly malnourished. She was sickly pale and had little more than skin on her bones. Her baby-blue hair unceremoniously fell to her shoulders, framing the scars and welts on her neck, which was further adorned by a slave collar. She wore a simple dress that had clearly once been white, but was now torn and tarnished by blood and soil. Her amber eyes were utterly lifeless as they turned to gaze at him. Her face did not exhibit any sort of emotion, no doubt she had been numbed from sensation by years of abuse. Her feet were covered in dirt, and small cuts littered her arms and legs.

It would require a lot of work to make something useful out of her, but that just might make it all the more satisfying. Yes, he could already see how he would turn her into a deadly weapon of war, an unstoppable force of death to be launched upon his foes. And with the anger and resentment she no doubt felt for the way the world had treated her, the girl would surely be more than willing after a bit of encouragement. She would be glorious.

*******

The demon spoke, its voice rumbling through the clearing with reverberating force, knocking down any who heard him, and Emily was forced to her knees. It was as though he possessed more than a single voice, and his words echoed in her very bones. His voice seemed ablaze as it bellowed, every syllable laced with hellfire. His pronunciation was harsh and threatening. She did not recognize the words, but she somehow understood their meaning.

"Do you seek power, little one?" he offered. "Pledge your loyalty to my cause, give me everything that you are, and I will grant you the strength to punish those who have wronged you. Their torment shall be the herald of your rebirth."

Emily had read a few cautionary tales about demons before. They made pacts with mortals, helping them achieve their goals, but at terrible and often unforeseen costs. Demons relished giving you exactly what you bargained for, in the exact way you had requested it. They would twist every word of a pact and interpret them in whatever way caused the most torment to the bargainer. And the price to pay was often one's own soul.

But a demon always followed through on their promises. Emily cared little for her soul, and the demon had promised to inflict suffering upon those who had wronged her. Whatever purpose he had planned for her, it didn't matter. If she refused, she would be subjected to unrelenting agony anyways. This way she would get to ensure Lord Dumal suffered as well. 20 years of servitude and torture, fully repaid in blood. No doubt she would remain a slave, but there just wasn't a way out of that one, was there? At least now she got to choose her master.

When she heard the footsteps of the guards chasing her, Emily's mind was already made up. Words flowed through her mind, in the same language the demon had spoken earlier. He was sending them to her directly so that she could recite them and perform the binding. Foreign, ancient words flowed from her mouth as she embraced her new destiny.

"I hereby cede all that I am and will be to my new Lord and Master. My body, mind and soul are his property, and his will is my command. I am but an extension of his being and I obey him in all things, now and forevermore. My lord Nergal, as you will it, so shall it be done."

With every word, Emily felt a sense of purpose that had eluded her all her life. This was right. This is what she was meant for. What she was always meant to be. Two decades of trauma were being washed from her shoulders, as though they had happened to someone else. Her slave collar was torn and twisted from her neck to make way for a new collar, this one made of blackened steel, inscribed in blood red runes. Similar cuffs materialized around her wrists, but Emily did not resent their presence, for they were a symbol of her newfound devotion. The girl knew she had made the right decision, every part of her was positively basking in a glory she never before could have even imagined.

She turned around and saw her pursuers for the first time. They were garbed in standard issue chainmail and upon their chests was emblazoned the crest of Dumal, a green pine tree upon a rounded white square. Two of them held the leashes of the hounds responsible for tracking her down, and carried on their back a melee weapon, one a bladed spear, the other a double-sided battle axe. The third footman stood a little further back with a loaded crossbow in hand. Each of them carried a sheathed dagger on his belt. Mere moments ago, these men had terrified her, but now they seemed so utterly unremarkable. So completely unworthy of her attention, let alone her fear. Master would deal with them and that was all she needed to know about them.

Master... She cringed at the thought that she had once afforded that title to Baron Dumal. No man could ever compare to Lord Nergal, certainly not that snake. But he would soon be punished for his crimes.

Emily felt not even an ounce of fear as the two hounds ran towards her and was barely surprised when they turned around and stood guard before her, as though to shield the girl from their own handlers. The men tried to retake control of their dogs, but quickly realized they had bigger problems when they spotted the hulking demon watching them, his head slightly tilted and his expression one of mild amusement. The soldiers were hit by a debilitating wave of dread and terror and in an act of poorly thought-out panic, the man holding the crossbow raised it to fire at the nightmarish monster.

He never got to pull the trigger, dropping his weapon as he screamed in agony, his entire body bursting into an eruption of flesh and blood. His companions did not fare much better, as they were savagely mauled and maimed by the hounds that had led them here. Emily could only stare at the carnage, at a complete loss for words. She had never seen such butchery, and it did not affect her nearly as much as she thought it probably should have. Her only opinion was that this was the deserved fate of anyone who opposed Lord Nergal.

*******

Nergal's thoughts were to the future as he walked. He had located a small cave earlier when he had been claiming the area, and it would be a suitable location for him to adjust his new thrall. He glanced back at the small waif meekly following him through the darkness of night. She would require a lot of adjustment. Altering a sentient being, even one's own thrall, required time and precision, and he did not wish to be disturbed as he worked. The girl would be essential in understanding the world the demon now found himself in. One must know his enemies if he his conquer them.

Nergal went through the list of changes he would have to put his new servant through. The most pressing matter was her current physical condition. Her emaciated figure was utterly unsuitable for operation. He would have to transform her into a properly healthy human female in her prime and at the peak of physical form. He would then lock her into this state. He wasn't all that familiar with human physiology, but he knew that they grew weaker with age and Nergal had no intention of having to routinely readjust a thrall. Especially considering that any further thralls would probably also have to be human for the foreseeable future, such an inconvenience was out of the question.

Next was the question of proficiency. Nergal doubted that a slave like her had ever been allowed to hold a weapon, much less develop skill with one. But mastery of a weapon could not simply be bestowed, it had to be developed. Fortunately, he could instead enhance her ability to learn. She would gain an affinity and become proficient with any weapon he gave her, and do so unnaturally fast, but such an enchantment was very demanding on the body of the thrall and took a lot of capacity to maintain, so it would be optimal to have her specialize in a single weapon type, give her the time to master it, then remove the enchantment to make space for others.

Nergal did not possess the ability to create. No demon did. He could only transform and warp what already existed. That was why he had looted the weapons from the brutalized remains he had left behind. A spear, a battle axe, a crossbow and 3 daggers. He knew that he had always favored spears in personal combat, though he did not have the memories to confirm it. He just knew. The spear he now carried was utterly inadequate, it was too small and too weak. It would nonetheless have to do after a few modifications, at least for now. That left the axe, the crossbow or the daggers for his new pet. He resolved to give it some more thought and continued down the list.

A thrall's loyalty was absolute and unbreakable, but this meek creature had obviously never seen real combat before. It would not do to have a soldier break down in the midst of battle, so it would be wise to make a sweep through her mind to ensure her mind is as ready to serve as her body. Humans were not known for their mental fortitude... Well, most humans weren't. When there was an exception to this trend among their kind, it truly was a sight to behold. An unbreakable iron will that no torment could break. Such specimens were rare... and valuable...

As he wondered where that knowledge had come from, Nergal's gaze returned to his prize... He dared not hope for such tenacity from her. Although perhaps it would be possible to cultivate her strength of will to such a degree. Yes, he would look into it when the time came.

Next was her mana veins. There was no way the girl's master had allowed her any kind of magical training, and her veins were no doubt atrophied beyond use at this point. Nergal would have to develop them to a usable state and get the mana flowing faster in her body. While having a thrall capable of casting magic was certainly a valuable commodity, this was not the main reason behind this change. Teaching her spells would be quite time consuming, and it would be far more efficient to enthrall an already accomplished caster. No, the link between a thrall and its master was capable of conducting mana, and his kind used this to siphon a portion of their thralls' mana and grant themselves a nearly unlimited supply.

His attention was drawn to the two beasts walking beside him. He had not had any plans for them when he had claimed them, but they had been helpful in disposing of their handlers without having to exert what little fraction of his own power it would have taken. He wanted to consider if he could turn these hounds into something worth the investment.

Nergal was distracted from his thoughts when he realized that they had arrived. Before him was the entrance to the cave he had spotted earlier. It was hidden and understated, a welcome reprieve from any unwelcome prying eyes.

He stepped into the opening and made sure his authority had been enforced onto every inch of the lair he would call home for the next few weeks. This too would have to do.

*******

No matter how many times she felt it, the joy Rosanna Medea felt upon a triumphant return home always felt just as rewarding. The looks of adoration from the people as she slowly rode through the town square, the children coming to walk beside her to gleefully ask about her hunt, the merchants coming to offer free samples of their wares as rewards for her exploits. Not that the paladin ever took these 'bribes', as they playfully liked to call them. Seeing the smiles of gratitude on these good people's faces was reward enough. It was an honor and a joy to protect and heal the peoples of the Demeius Faith. The Great Father Above certainly looked favorably upon His flock, for He had sent her to guard them.

As she approached the monastery grounds, Rosanna thought about how blessed she was to have been so gifted in the healing arts and in martial prowess. Every soul she saved from a fatal injury, or from the clutches of a demon, was another reason to praise the Father. And she was still in her prime! How many more souls would thank her for the salvation she would bring them? The guards moved to open the gate as soon as they saw her, and she returned their smile as she rode past them.