Chapter Four

Ch apter Four

I ronstorm’s form freezes at the sound of the open lock clicking, and I don’t wait to see what comes next. I throw the door open and bolt outside. The arena and jail are to the left, so I go right, taking off with all the speed I can muster. First thing to do is get far away from here and find someplace to hide. And hopefully a pair of pants.

I start looking for an alley or back street I can turn down. There’s a crossroad coming up ahead, but taking that seems too obvious. But if I can get behind or even on top of some of these buildings... Oh shit, is that a cart coming down the road? A big one with two huge black horses in front. Maybe I can jump on the b ack of it.

They’re moving fast. Really fast. I’m not sure I can make that jump. Why are they moving so fast in the middle of a city? I hear someone yelling in the distance as they barrel through the intersection without so much as slowing down. They could kill someone driving like that.

I know Ironstorm has to be right behind me, so I have to move quickly. I start looking for alternate exits or even something I might be able to slow him down with, anything to put some extra distance between us while I make my escape. That’s when I notice something in the road. Someone: a small green child tottering around, playing with a doll. And that cart is heading straight to ward them.

Dammit .

I’m closer than the cart is, but those horses are way faster than I am. The kid isn’t even looking up. Where the hell are their parents? Aaa rrrggghhh.

I put every last ounce of energy I have into my run. I’ve gotten faster in the last two months, but this is cutting it close. I shout a “hey!” to get them to move, but then the kid—a little girl it looks like—just starts staring at me instead, still not moving. I look up at the cart, but I can’t even see the driver, the horses’ reins being held from t he inside.

Why did I even bother getting up today?

I dive at the little girl, who picks that exact moment to finally notice the horses about to trample her. I wrap my arms around her when we make contact, clutching her tightly to my chest. My ass hits the ground first as we roll, the thunderous stomps of the horses just missing us. We tumble a few times before I slam into a stone fence with my arm and side. Oww, that’s gon na bruise.

I peek an eye open, having shut them tightly during the tuck-and-roll. The sight I’m greeted with is that of a slightly frightened and very confused orc child looking back at me. Phew . Afraid and confused is still alive. With her hair in pigtails, she kind of reminds me of my little sister. Then comes more shouting, and I see a panicked looking woman over the kid’s shoulder coming toward us from inside the fence.

She immediately reaches down and scoops up her child, holding her tightly while planting kisses all over the kid’s face and hair, muttering continuously. I hope she saw the cart and doesn’t think I just tackled her kid for no reason. I’m about to stand up and dust myself off when I hear the plodding of a familiar pair of boots as Ironstorm’s shadow falls over me. Fu cking kid.

I pick myself up from the ground, but before I have the chance to say anything, the woman pulls me into a very strong hug. I can’t really breathe, but at least I know she saw the cart. She’s still saying things I can’t understand, but I assume they’re something along the lines of “Thank you for saving my child.” I hear the captain behind me chiming in on his own, and they continue to talk after she releases me, saying one last thing before taking her child back inside. The smile I’m wearing is cut short when the shadow behind me looms over me once more.

I turn hesitantly, positive that what awaits me is a very pissed off orc. But no, when I actually venture to raise my head enough to look him in the eye, he seems fairly calm. He’s giving me a look that is somewhere between confusion and consideration, the one he had on when he first held me to the ground in the arena. He doesn’t say anything, just takes me by the arm, firmly but not enough to hurt. I don’t argue, and we start the walk back to his home together.

The front door is open when we approach, and he pushes me inside. Keys are pulled out of the drawer to my left, and he grabs the discarded set of cuffs from the kitchen before turning us down the hallway to the bedroom. He pushes me to the bed, and I grab a seat with a sigh while he just...sta res at me.

“Why did you do that?” He breaks the silence, his tone softer than I’m expecting for that question.

“Well don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but becoming an orc’s slave wasn’t exactly on my bucket list,” I deadpan.

“Not that.” He shakes his head. “The lit tle girl.”

“What do you mean?” Is that what’s bothering him? “I wasn’t gonna let her get run over.”

“You could have,” he points out for some reason. “You were escaping. If anything, she slowed you down. You could have even used the acc ident to—”

“Woah! ” I jump up from the bed, actually offended. “What the hell? I wasn’t going to let a child get trampled to death.”

“No, you were not.” He’s smiling now for some reason. “Still, you could have been hurt. You only barely missed those horses, and I saw how hard you hit the ground afterward. How could you possibly have known you would make a jump l ike that?”

“I didn’t.” I shrug. “I saw the kid in trouble and did something. Didn’t really stop to think about it.”

“Seems to be a recurring theme with you.” He crosses his arms, but he’s still smiling. “It was very brave. I am honestly i mpressed.”

“Thanks?” I didn’t think he brought me in here to pay me compliments, but I’l l take it.

“It is a shame I have to punish you now.” Do what now?

“Punish me?” I back up into the bed. “Wh at? Why?!”

“You have made two escape attempts in less than an hour. Before I have even had the chance to go over any of the rules or guidelines you will be expected to follow.” He takes a heavy step toward me.

“Then how about we just don’t count those attempts and call it even?” I debate climbing onto the bed next, but I have a feeling he won’t be too amuse d by that.

“Nonsense.” He takes another step, crowding me in. “How can I expect you to learn if I do not t each you?”

“Teach me what, exactly?” I refuse to cower even if it does feel like he’s twice my size. “Not to save children from certain death? Because if I hadn’t run out at that exact moment, there’d be a little girl-shaped pancake on the road r ight now.”

“What you did was commendable, truly.” He doesn’t move. “Something to be rewarded even. But that does not negate that you broke a rule—a fairly obvious and big one at that—and need to be c orrected.”

I glare at him—and then try to bolt around him and out of the room. It’s no use though; he’s got me by the arm as soon as I move. Then his other hand is at the bottom of my tunic, which he pulls up over my head. I struggle in the dark against the sudden restriction, but in the confusion, he sits on the bed and pulls me over his lap. He finishes pulling the tunic off me, grabbing both arms as soon as they are free. I do my best to fight, but the events of the day are finally catching up with me. All the walking, being knocked out, the fight and the...other stuff in the arena. I also still haven’t really eaten since this morning. I’m exhausted, I’m hungry, and I don’t have anything left in me. I cry out in frustration as my arms are pinned t o my back.

“Clearly, it was a mistake to take these off of you,” Ironstorm comments as he reattaches the cuffs to my wrist. I hear the click of a lock this ti me, twice.

“Oh my god , why do you even care so much?!” I struggle against my binds even though I know it’s no use. “Will you just let me go already?”

“Why should I, exactly?” I detect no amusement in his voice. He suddenly squeezes me tightly by the hips as he reaches down to remove my shoes. “The first thing you did when I met you this morning was attack me. Then, the second you woke up, you challenged me to a fight—one in which you apparently intended to kill me or be killed yourself! Then when you lost that fight, rather than uphold your end of the bargain, you tried to run away from i t. Twice.”

“What I do not understand,” he continues, “is why you insist on fighting me so much. By your own admission you thought you would be dead right now. Maybe this is a human issue, but to me, your current circumstances certainly seem better than not being alive . Not to mention that you hardly seem to be minding your treatment all t hat much.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I try to say with as much dignity as I can manage, naked with my face pressed to t he sheets.

“This.” I jump when a hand reaches under me and grabs my not-so-flaccid dick. Not sure when that happened.

“That’s not... I don’t—!” I get flustered and try to shake his hand off. “That’s never happened befo re today!”

“Oh please.” What the hell doe s he know?

“No! This...stuff only started happening after I got here.” That is the only explanation. Never in my life would I have done any of this. “Maybe you did something to me when I was knocked out, or, or there’s something in the water. Maybe they put something in that bath I took before we fought, or in the food, or—” A memory from earlier flashes in my mind. “That woman. She did th is to me.”

“What are you talking about?” He actually leans back so he can look me in the eye whe n he asks.

“Those two women from earlier. They were...older, I dunno.” I pause, not knowing how else to describe them. “Before we fought, one of them put her hand on my stomach and cast some sort of spell. I didn’t think it was anything then, but right after that you throw me to the ground and fuck me stupid! There is no other explanation. There’s no way in hell I would ever want something like that. This is all because you people did somethi ng to me.”

He looks at me confused while I rant but then something clicks. “I see. So, this woman, right before our match put her hand right here below your stomach, yes?” He reaches a hand underneath me again to demonstrate. “And she cast a spell?”

“Yes.” I nod slowly. This is a trap .

“Sorry to say this, David, but ‘that woman’ was only making sure you were ready for your inevitable loss.” He mocks me with his smile. “Really, you should be thanking her. All she did was empty your bowels with a little magic and added some l ubricant.”

“She...what?” I have no way of knowing if that’s true or not. It’s not like I’d know what that f eels like.

“She was just helping make sure you were prepared for what would happen on the field.” I don’t believe his explanation, but even if I did, how do I know that’s al l she did?

“You’re lying.” He has to be.

“I am not sure I have much of a reason to, but if thinking that makes you feel better...” He pats my flank, stil l mocking.

“Fuck you,” I spit out, starting to struggle again. “This wasn’t supposed to happen! I thought I was helping my friends! I didn’t fucking ask for this! None of it! This isn’t what I—” I choke back a sob. “I was trying to help. None of this was supp—” The frustration builds and the dam breaks. I sob into the mattress, thrashing weakly against my bonds. The tears cut off my vision as they star t to flow.

“I know,” his voice is soft, losing the unkind edge from moments ago, his hand on my back. “But right now, this is what you have to deal with. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I promise that you will be well c ared for.”

“What am I supposed to do?” I almos t whisper.

“Accept and submit.” He strokes his thumb along my back. “I promise I will take care of yo u, David.”

The first * smack* against my ass really throws me, and I cry out more in surprise than pain. He’s spanking me?! The second smack quickly proves me right and my hands, tied as they are, are fruitless to block any further blows. I haven’t been spanked since I was a kid! How is this supposed to make me stop trying to escape? The third, fourth, and fifth blows, all of which cause me to start crying out in actual pain, make me recons ider that.

I lose count after that. Around ten, he evidently gets tired of seeing my hands flailing around and pins them to my back, adding a little extra strength to keep the rest of my body from moving. His other hand, his right I think, continues to rain down on my already-abused ass. And his hands are fucking huge , able to cover each half of my poor butt in its entirety. The sting of each blow makes me cry out into the bed below. He changes up the force, the angle, able to seemingly pinpoint a different yet-to-be-touched spot with ea ch strike.

There’s no rhythm, no rhyme or reason to how he’s hitting me. The only thing I know is that more is coming. Always more. I’m not even yelling anymore, barely able to grunt each time his hand connects with my ass. That doesn’t mean I’m not still crying, just that I’ve got nothing left in me to yell about. The hand holding my own loosens its grip at some point after I stop struggling. The spanking stops altogether sometime after that, though I’m not really clea r on when.

Too busy being a sobbing, blub bery mess.

Eventually the crying slows down, and I notice the hand stroking my hair as I catch my breath. My arms are still tied, and I’m still naked, still over his lap. Kinda lost myself there for a minute. My ass feels like it’s on fire, so much that I’m afraid to look. Ironstorm says nothing, content to pet my hair and back as I return to the land of t he living.

“Let us get you cleaned up and fed.” He helps to ease me to the floor on my knees before helping me stand. Holding me by the cuffs behind my back, he ushers me out of the room and back to the kitchen. He walks me to the sink, turning it on and using a washcloth to wipe the tears and snot fro m my face.

“Wait here.” He leaves me in the kitchen next to the table, heading back down the hallway. I don’t have the energy to even think about escaping, so I just sort of numbly stare at my feet while I wait for him to get back. When he does, I hear a familiar metal rattling—he’s holding a chain. He moves into the living room, lighting lanterns in the house as he goes. Didn’t even notice it was getting dark. He grabs something out of the drawer he keeps his keys in and a very large pillow from the pile in the li ving room.

He throws the pillow on the floor when he returns to me in the kitchen. Then, after pulling me closer to the wall, I realize what he’s doing. There’s a metal ring on the wall I didn’t notice earlier. He slips a padlock through one end of the chain and attaches it to the ring, then does the same with the other end and my collar. I’m being leas hed again.

“Seriously?” I mutter. It’s a long chain, nearly touching the floor when I stand, but that doesn’t make it better. “Is this really n ecessary?”

“I am afraid so, pup.” He tweaks my nose and I try to shake his hand off. “Until I can trust you not to run, you will be kept secured when I am unable to do so myself. You can earn your freedom of movement back the same way you can earn the privileges of wearing clothes or having your ha nds free.”

“I don’t get to wear clothes?” Well, that soun ded whiny.

“I do not see why I should make it any easier on you to leave. Besides, nudity suits you.” He winks and ruffles my hair, and I try to shake his hand away again. Why is he being so friendly? “Go ahead and rest while I mak e dinner.”

I huff and think about continuing to stand just to spite him, but I really am exhausted. I gingerly lower myself onto the pillow, hissing as soon as the fabric makes contact with my ass. Right, that. It takes some effort to find a comfortable position, and I’m reminded of the way our old dog used to try and find a comfortable sleeping position on the floor. I’m even wearing a collar. I end up leaning on my side, able to keep my eyes on the orc while keeping the pressure off my poor butt.

I watch Captain Ironstorm as he moves about the kitchen. He places a large skillet above the still-lit stove before pulling a few vegetables from a basket on a shelf under the counter. I recognize the onion, but there’s also some round and bumpy green things and something that sort of looks like an orange potato that I’ve never seen before. He opens the chest again, and now that I’m closer, I see there’s frost on the inside of the lid. An icebox. He pulls out a slab of meat—more meat than I’ve seen in a long time—and close s the lid.

I actually like cooking, for the small amount I’ve been able to do it. I used to help my mom a lot back home, and I’d sign up to be on kitchen duty whenever I could at the academy. I don’t know if I’ve done enough to say I was good, but I enjoyed it. It also usually meant getting extra food. Have I mentioned that I used to weigh a lot more?

The orc knows what he’s doing, chopping the veggies and throwing them in the skillet followed by the cubed chunks of meat. I’m not sure what it is, but I know it’s not fish. Given our location, I’d guess some kind of venison. It’s a little more difficult to see from the floor after that, but a few of the other small jars are grabbed and added here and there. It starts to smell pretty good. I mean, I’m starving, but I’m actually looking forward to eating this. Also being able to use my own hands again wil l be nice.

I watch as the skillet’s contents are emptied onto a single large plate. The stove is put out, hands are washed, and what appear to be a fork and a pitcher of water are grabbed. Everything is set on the table to my right before finally, the orc turns to me. I stand as he approaches and retrieves the keys from his pocket. Lifting my chin, he unlocks the padlock holding the chain to my neck, snapping it shut once it is clear and letting the chain dangle freely against the wall.

Ironstorm returns to the table, pulling out and taking a seat. I follow, aiming for my own chair when I am grabbed and pulled onto his lap. I try to buck off him immediately, both from the weirdness of being a grown man on another grown man’s lap and the pain radiating from my ass. But no matter how I squirm, he’s adamant about keeping me in place.

“Are you serious?!” Will the humiliations never end?

“Well, I suppose I am very curious to see how you intend to feed yourself with your arms behind your back.” He loosens his grip as the words slow my struggle.

“Are... Are you going to make me eat it like a dog or something?” My stomach sinks, and I can barely even bring myse lf to ask.

“What? No.” He sounds offended. “I am going to feed yo u myself.”

“Uh, no thanks? I can feed myself.” Now I sound offended.

“You can feed yourself when I know I can trust you.” He grabs me by the waist and adjusts me so I’m sitting over one thigh, facing the table with him. “Now can we eat, or do you enjoy your food more when it is cold?”

I say nothing, content to wallow in my misery. Which is hard to do when someone is holding really good smelling food in front of your face. My mouth waters and my stomach groans as I take in the scent. I was wrong before—that’s beef. Where the hell did he find a cow around here? Any remaining willpower I had has just left the building, and I open my mouth, nearly diving from my perch to grab it. Holy shit it’s so good. I actually moan when the taste hits my tongue.

“Easy,” Ironstorm chuckles before bringing me another forkful. “You can have as much as you would like. I made extra and can eat whatever is leftover tomorrow.”

I take him at his word as he alternates bringing forkfuls of food to each of our mouths. Once I stop thinking about the specifics of how and why, I don’t actually mind being fed all that much. I’d still rather do this on my own, but I don’t know—he’s not being a dick about it or anything. The food keeps coming and every now and then the water is brought to my lips. I do notice he’s making sure I get a lot more of the vegetables t han he is.

“You not big on veggies?” I nod at the next forkful as it’s brought toward me. It’s not like I mind; they taste just as good as the rest of it. The green things are just a little spicy, and the orange potatoes taste just like potatoes, only sweeter. Jus t curious.

“I enjoy them, but an orc’s diet does not require as much as a human’s.” He grabs a bite for himself next. “I made most of them for you.”

“Oh. Uh, thank you?” Back to feeling like a pet. I should probably be happy he’s at least feeding me well, but I’m curious about why he knows the specifics of a human’s diet ary needs.

I don’t ask any more questions, happy to fill my belly. I haven’t eaten like this in a long time. I know I’ve got sauce and grease all over my face, and if I wasn’t so hungry, I’d probably care more. Sadly, it doesn’t take long for me to get full. I say sad only because I would really like to keep eating this. A side effect of having cut down on the size of my meals for so long is that my stomach shrank along with them.

“ ‘m full.” I shake my head when the fork approac hes again.

Ironstorm takes the food for himself, swallowing it down quickly. “You ate more than I anticipated. I apologize for not feeding yo u sooner.”

I shrug as he continues to eat. It’s not that big a deal; I’ve gone longer without eating, especially in the last two months. This might actually be the highlight of the d ay for me.

It has been a really fuck ed up day.

He eats the rest of the food fairly quickly. I guess I really did eat more than he expected seeing as he finishes off what’s left. He helps me stand then wipes my face again with the washcloth. I watch as our cutlery, dish, and skillet are washed, only just realizing that like his bathroom, he has running water in his kitchen. The sink, like the countertops, is made up of very smooth, solid stone, even the faucet. Is this guy loaded or something?

As he dries the dishes, there’s a split second where I think about running. Only for a second though. I am very naked, very tired, and very tied up. I can worry about how I’m getting out of here tomorrow. Besides, it’s not like he’s gonna make me sleep like th is, right?

The lanterns are put out, and I’m led away from the kitchen to the bathroom where I’m stood in front of another sink and cleaned up. He washes and dries my face, and there’s even a toothbrush. I don’t think I’ve seen someone else use one of these besides my friends since we left the academy. Still, the fact that he’s not letting me do any of this myself is more than a little humiliating. But it beats washing i n a river.

My hopes of possibly sleeping by myself in the spare room are dashed when I am steered into the main bedroom. I hear the familiar jingle of keys though and am relieved when I feel my wrists being freed. I eagerly bring them around to the front, only to have the cuffs re locked around my wrist im mediately.

“I have to sleep like this too?” I grumble.

“Actually, thank you for reminding me.” He steps around me to one of his chests that is already open and pulls out...another chain. Mot herfucker .

He wraps the chain through the headboard and uses a lock to cinch it before pulling me close and attaching the other end to my cuffs. How many fucking padlocks does this dude have?

Content with his handiwork, he finishes getting himself ready for bed, which mostly just involves taking off his boots, pants, and underwear. He pulls back the sheets on the bed—ugh, of course it looks comfortable—and climbs in, staring at me . Waiting.

“Maybe I should sleep on the floor.” I stare at the ground. It doesn’t look that unco mfortable.

“If that is what you would prefer.” He crosses his arms, looking amused. “I can assure you though, you will be safe in bed with me.”

“...You’ll stay on your side?” I would really like to sleep in a be d tonight.

He puts his hands up in a show of surrender, even inching away from me slightly. After a little more hesitation, I carefully climb into the bed. Once I’m in, Ironstorm pulls the sheets over us and turns out the final lantern. For a moment I’m tense, listening as the body next to me shuffles in the dark.

But once I hear him settle, I relax. I fumble a little myself as I try to find a comfortable position to sleep in with the chain attached to my hands, ending up on my side, facing Ironstorm. I don’t want to keep my back to him for obvious reasons. For a moment, it’s just me, the night air, and my thoughts. Plans for escaping, my friends in their cell, even my family back home all drift in and out of my mind, until sleep takes me, and I’m not thinking about anythi ng at all.