Derik's Luck 52

From TSade

[edit] His New Owner

Derik whimpered, shaking like a leaf, as Rick reached out for him. He tried to pull away, but the powerful hand grabbed him by the shirt. For a moment, Derik pulled back, but the sound of the ripping shirt terrified him and he let himself be pulled off the platform.

Stumbling forward, he yelped as Rick grabbed his shoulder and shoved him down to his knees. Snarling, Rick shoved his face into Derik’s.

“You thought you could escape,” he growled.

Derik whimpered, tears in his eyes

“You thought you could win, didn’t you?”

He couldn’t respond, he couldn’t even breath as he felt the rage slamming into him. Derik tried to move, but the hand squeezed down on his shoulder, sending bolts of pain through his system.

“I almost broke you, whore. I almost had you begging for your life. But, then you called on that god, that Bridget of yours. After that, you had that god-damned hope and I couldn’t break you. But, this time, this time, I will, break you. And you will beg. And no Bridget will ever save you.”

Derik’s lips started to repeat the name, but Rick slapped him hard. The force of the blow threw him across the room and he crashed into some chairs, shattering them. Derik managed to get to his knees, looking around for help.

He saw Madre. The battle mage had a look of horror on her face, but she just closed her eyes as tears ran down her cheeks. Derik sobbed, spinning around. He started to focus on the baron when Rick grabbed his long black hair and yanked him back. He screamed from the pain that exploded in his world, then he hit the ground hard and lost his breath.

Rick loomed over him.

“I didn’t give everything away, cock whore. I still have my tower and that is all I need for you. And I still have my family farm. It doesn’t matter if I have no more money left, I’ll rebuild.”

His owner panted as he growled, his eyes darkening.

“But you’ll suffer. You’ll take the blows, you have nothing else. And, right now, I have nothing to do but to break you. I will shatter that will of yours, I will,” he screamed out, “shatter that hope you have in your Shadows-damed god!”

The larger man was screaming at the top of his lungs. Derik scrambled back, but Rick wrapped his hair twice around his hand and yanked him back.

“I’ll fucking break you and make sure they’ll talk about you forever!”

Derik screamed as Rick yanked him up by his hair. A powerful hand clamped around his throat as Rick hefted him above the ground. Screaming and flailing, Derik wondered he would be dying soon.

“I said ‘Oi!’”

A new voice broke through his struggles as a wine bottle exploded into the side of Rick’s face. Rick paused, his hands squeezing down on Derik’s throat. Derik, gasping for breath, managed to look over Rick’s shadow at a slender woman throwing two more bottles of wine. Each one tumbled in the air before slamming into the back of Rick’s head, staggering the man forward.

Rick snarled and spun around in time to catch the fourth bottle of wine in his face. It shattered, alcohol and glass flying in all directions. Rick dropped Derik to wipe the remains from his face.

“WHAT!?”

“I said ‘Oi’ you fucking bastard!”

It was a familiar voice, but Derik could barely hear it over the pounding in his ears. He staggered to his feet and wiped his face, seeing a bit of blood where the glass shards cut him. Wiping his face clear, he managed to focus on Rick’s attacker.

“Look, psycho, I was asking da baron if I could bid on the pussy boy, and he say yes. So, stop fucking with the pussy until I buy him!”

Shiel stepped forward as she snatched another two bottles from the table of wines. Popping off, she staggered forward.

“Now, shut the hell up and let me bid!”

Rick struggled to contain himself. Growling, he let out a long struggling breath.

“You can’t afford it.”

He almost sounded sane as he spoke.

“Like I fucking care what you say, thriban-fucker, but that pussy,” she pointed at Derik with a glare at a bottle, “is the only bastard who ever escaped me. And I’m gonna get my due and you’ll fucking wait for me to bid!”

Derik whimpered and stepped away from Rick, thankful for a few more seconds of life before he was taken away. He looked around to see Madre, the baron, and even Wendi staring at the tiny bounty hunter with surprise. The priest of Galifray stood behind Madre, obviously frightened but staying his ground.

Except for the guards, the rest of the room was empty. Rick took another deep breath, then a third. His eyes focused on Derik.

“Whatever.”

Shiel shoved past him and stalked right up to Madre and the priest of knowledge.

“Ya, knower, you know things?”

The priest stood up, “I’m a priest of Galifray. We are part-”

“I don’t fucking care if you are sleeping with your sister and banging her horse. What is the most expensive thing I got?”

The priest started to say something, but Shiel just snapped off the neck of a bottle of wine and chugged it. He swallowed in fright, then walked around her. Madre followed, her eyes never leaving the bounty hunter.

It took him a moment.

“Um, your dagger and its sheath. The one on your back.”

Shiel shrugged and yanked it off her back. It was a harmless-looking dagger with rust dripping off it. She hefted it one hand and made to toss it on the table when the priest spoke up.

“I can give you an appraisal, for a fee.”

Shiel favored him with a dirty look.

“You damn well know that the price is for the baron. I’ve been picking my nose and shaving my cunt hairs with it, don’t give a flying fuck what he does.”

With that, she just tossed it on the table. Derik couldn’t decide if he was honored or insulted by her valuing his life with a rusty dagger. Rick started forward, then laughed.

“A dagger!? That’s all you think he’s worth.”

Shiel snarled, “Well, at least I ain’t giving up the entire fucking criminal underground for a pussy boy!”

Rick snarled, then calmed himself again.

“I didn’t give up everything. I have enough to recover and I will. Property isn’t the only thing of worth. I still have loyalty and I still have fear. I own this city and there is nothing that can stop me.”

“Yeah, I heard you got a sack and a limp dick too, bet that would make a pretty penny at the sausage factory,” came the crude reply.

Shiel drained the bottle and tossed it aside. Derik whimpered as it shattered on the floor. She stormed around him to grab three more bottles from the table, popping off the top of two of them and draining each one in turn. She swayed as she finished.

“Oh, fuck, da baron got good wine.”

Rick growled and spun around.

“Move it, priest, I want my fucking slave!”

The priest jumped, his eyes unfocused.

“P-Please wait, we are discussing the value.”

“It’s a fucking dagger! How much can it be worth?” He stepped forward angrily, “I can get ten of them for two-”

“Two billion, three hundred twenty-one million, eight thousand marks,” interrupted the priest as his eyes snapped into focus.

The silence that filled the hall was deafening. Derik realized part of it was his heart and plastered a hand against his chest until he could feel it pounding against his ribs. Rick stumbled as he stopped, then he stared.

“What. Did. You. Say?”

The priest swallowed, stepping back in the suddenly angry voice.

“I-I said: two billion.”

Rick’s face grew dark and mottled. The baron stood up.

“Explain, please.”

The priest kept his eyes focused on the enraged crime lord. He was pale as a ghost as he stammered.

“T-The dagger is the only known possession for Prince Vissolis when he disappeared thirty years ago. Since no item of his has ever been found, this is the only known object that could be used to locate him or his corpse for the royal family. The political power alone from that favor, coupled with the baron’s mastery of court politics, could be used to elevate his position to a count or duke.”

More silence. The priest cleared his throat.

“And the Temple of Galifray will waive the assessment fee for the dagger if we are able to inspect it for a month,” he finished softly.

Shiel interrupted the uncomfortable quietness in the hall.

“Fucking dagger was dull.”

Rick blinked and looked around.

“W-What? I lost? I can’t lose! I can’t fucking lose that whore!”

His voice roared loudly and he lunged for Derik. Derik screamed as he flung himself back, but two forms appeared in front of him, blocking Derik.

Madre and Wendi. Wendi had her blouse off and cum dripping down her breasts and thighs, but both mages were glowing with fire as they stood in front of him. Madre snapped the heals of her shoes to stand on the ground and Derik watched slivers from the broken chairs started to shake. Rick snarled and tried to storm around them but they both blocked him.

“Rick,” came the baron’s voice.

Rick spun on the baron.

“NO! I can’t lose him! I can’t give him up. Not after all this.”

His voice bounced from rage to pleading and back to a bitter, festering anger. The baron stood up tall in front of Rick.

“Rick, you lost him.”

“Never!”

“Rick,” Hamel repeated himself and spoke carefully, “you have been a stain for far too long. I promised Blackbird I would break you and I think it is time for me to fulfill that promise. Rick Thrantas, I’m placing you under arrest for the crimes you have committed in my town and my barony. I am seizing every property, building, and business you have remaining within my control. Not that you have much left.”

“Y-You? Never!”

The baron swallowed, but a dozen more guards appeared behind him. Wendi’s form blurred and reappeared next to Hamel. Derik could see the flush on her cheeks and the cum that coursed down her thighs. The jealousy rose but then Shiel stood in front of him.

“Pick yourself up, pussy.”

She didn’t offer him help up and Derik winced as he felt the bruises and aches. Standing up, he took a deep breath. The baron and everyone’s attention focused on Rick. With a flash of insight, Derik realized he was truly no longer part of the baron’s hall. Shiel just shoved him toward the hall entrance. She was strong than he could imagine and he almost fell a few times.

There was no question who owned him now. As he left, the last he heard of Rick was bellowing.

“This isn’t over, whore!”

Shiel rolled her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, I got a big penis too. Got it stuffed on my mantle too,” she grumbled, “stupid thriban.”

Derik frowned, half confused as she pushed him roughly toward the door.

“W-What? What’s happening?”

“What do you think, pussy? I bought you and now I want to go back to sleep!”

He struggled but she easily pushed him back, along the hallway and toward the entrance of the palace. After a few moments, he turned around and let her roughly shove him out the front door. He could feel her blue and green eyes glittering with annoyance, coupled with the cloud of wine-flavored breath that surrounded him.

Outside, she left him to stalk toward one of the guards. He stepped back, but she just snatched a filthy bag from his hand and turn around. Digging inside, she pulled out a thick iron ring and brandished it at Derik.

His whimpers grew louder as he saw the ring. Something about it frightened him and he turned on his heels and ran back for the door. His bare feet slapped against the skin, but he didn’t even make it two meters before she tackled him and threw him to the ground.

Screaming, he tried to fight back but she grabbed his hair, rapped his head hard against the ground, then snapped the iron ring around his throat as he struggled to clear the stars from his vision.

Shield knelt on his chest, crushing his breasts as she looked down impassively in your face.

“You run, I kill you, k?”

When he didn’t answer, she said some word that he didn’t catch because his body ignited into white-hot pain. It felt like Madre’s spanking spell and faded just as fast.

“k?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Good, now get up, I’m going home.”

Six guards ran into the palace as Derik scrambled to his feet. In the cool wind blowing outside, he shivered with just Tornsin’s shirt wrapped around his body. A few rents tore the fabric and he distinctly felt every blast of wind that cut through the thin fabric.

Shiel didn’t have a carriage. She didn’t even have a horse. Derik found out the hard way as the bare-footed silfae just started walking down the drive of the palace. He followed, wincing at the sharp gravel that cut into his feet. He struggled and she called to him. As he tried to keep up, she didn’t even slow down.

Another spark of pain slammed into him and he dropped to his knees with a scream. The gravel crunched as she returned and knelt in front of him.

“Keep up, pussy.”

Spinning around, she kicked some gravel into his face. He got up and tried to follow, whimpering in pain as he hurried to keep up.

She kept a brutal pace as she strode out of the palace and right down the cobblestones. No words were exchanged. He just limped after her.

When he felt too far behind, panting from the effort and struggling against the agony in his delicate feet, she just activated the collar and he found himself writhing in pain in an ice-cold puddle. Grinning, she waited for him to stand up and activated it again in spite.

An hour later, he felt nauseous. They made it almost half way through town and a fall storm picked up the wind. It yanked at his clothes, pulling them up to reveal his nakedness to anyone watching. He could feel the eyes of people watching, the shock and surprise. He clutched himself, one hand holding down the shirt. Shiel didn’t seem to care about her discomfort as she took a long swig from a bottle she bought.

Stumbling, he hit a sign when his unbound hair whipped around. He yelped as he fell to the ground, his shirt riding up so his bare ass slapped against the street.

The collar ignited in pain and he screamed, spasming on the ground. When his vision cleared, he saw Shiel looking down.

“You are a pathetic little fuck, aren’t you?”

Struggling with the words, he felt a bit of frustrated anger building inside him.

“No.”

“Oh really?”

She grinned as she whispered the activation words and the collar activated again. He thrashed on the ground, clawing at the stones until it passed.

“Now, I believe I have your attention.”

Derik shivered from the cold.

“Sorry.”

“Not yet. You are nothing but a pussy. I don’t know how you managed to change your scent to throw me off, but it probably has to do with those tits, huh?”

She stabbed his breasts with one hard finger. He winched and covered them protectively.

“Only pussies wants tits. Pussy boys have little cocks, big tits, and whimper because they can’t walk.”

Derik’s lips trembled as he shivered. She rolled her eyes.

“Don’t know why I bother. Come on, get up.”

He got to his feet, feeling the aches and pains of the night collecting.

“Give me your hair.”

Her sharp command sent a bolt of something. He pulled his hair down, gathering it in his hand before handing her the thick bundle.

Derik’s world burst into white as Shiel grabbed his hair and slammed his face against the sign he hit. He screamed out, but then he felt something scraping against the wooden sign. A moment later, she released him and he pushed himself away.

There was a brief moment of disorientation as he tried to identify the strange sensations that surprised him. He struggled for a moment, then he saw her releasing hair, the severed strands plummeting to the ground in a thick curtain of black and blowing across the street. The cloud hit the face of a meat vendor and he swore back, silencing as Shiel glared at him.

Trembling, Derik lifted both hands up to his head. Tears ran down his cheeks as he felt only short hairs still attached. The trembling grew into sobbing shakes as he fell to the ground, clutching at the remains of his hair.

Shiel just flipped her dagger back around and shoved it into the sheath along her forearm.

“There, now you won’t missing the damn sign!”

Derik wailed. Shiel gave him a moment, then grabbed the collar around his neck. Twisting, she forced him to look up at her.

“Look, long hair is for whores and harems. You aren’t either now, so get on your damn feet and get over it! I’m tired and if I get cranky, more than your feet will be bleeding!”

He felt broken as he stood up. Head held low, he limped after Shiel as she walked quickly down the street. Behind him, he could imagine the remains of his long, beautiful hair blowing in the wind, a life that he had finally left behind.

It took two more hours before they made the small mansion Shiel called home. It was wood and desperately in need of paint. The long driveway had grasses and thistles that cut at Derik’s bare feet, but he could only focus on his aching feet. He left bloody footprints behind him as he followed her up the stairs. Shiel just kicked at the door, which swung open and he got a look at his new home.

A pig sty. There were more empty bottles than he thought possible on every flat surface. Shields, weapons, and artifacts laid scattered everywhere, covered in more bottles. A broken window let in the breeze, which shuffled through a stack of scrolls held down by a thick made. Which had a bottle on it.

“I’d say welcome, but fuck if I know what to do with you.”

Derik just shivered, staring around at the room. Trickles of blood ran down his thighs and he didn’t try to think about the bone-deep cold he felt from the winds that blasted them the entire walk. Shiel hummed for a moment, then motioned for him to follow. He did, limping as he did.

She took him into a musty basement, flicking on a light as she did. He hesitated on the splintered wooden steps, but followed, wincing at the pain that coursed up his legs.

Shiel packed her basement almost solid. Crates and boxes, mostly empty wine racks, and even the remains of weapons were stacked everywhere. She took him through a narrow path through the basement before stopping in front of a cage the size of a large dog.

“Strip and get it.”

Derik’s eyes widened as he stared at her. Shiel’s face darkened.

“Look, either you strip or I tear it off you.”

Frantically, Derik unbuttoned the shirt as fast as he could. He shivered as he stood naked at her but Shiel just made a face.

“Hate the tits and the small dick.”

He blushed hotly as she snatched the shirt from his hand.

“Get in.”

Whimpering, he hesitated and she activated the collar. He curled up in a ball for a moment, then she activated it again.

“Get in.”

This time, he crawled into the cage with a face burning with shame and humiliation. It was tight but Shiel didn’t seem to care as she slammed it shut. A lock clicked into place and Derik shuddered at the sound. Turning around, he could barely stay on his hands and knees as he looked up from the claustrophobic confinement.

Shiel sniffed at his shirt and made another face. She made to throw it away and Derik whimpered. Her eyes fixed on him, then she cleared her throat.

“Look, pussy. You behave and do what I say, and you can keep the shirt. You piss me off and I’ll piss on it, then burn it, k?”

He nodded, “Y-Yes.”

For a moment, Shiel glared at him, then she threw the shirt on a stack of Melkuth tribal masks and stormed out. Derik shivered with fear, feeling horribly naked and exposed. His eyes locked on Tornsin’s shirt and ran his fingers through his trimmed hair.

Then the basement plunged itself into darkness. He yelped at the suddenness, then curled up on the floor of his cage. His body shook as he stared through the inky void to where his lover’s shirt hung. He couldn’t see it, but he just imagined he could.

It helped as he drifted to sleep, to dream of nightmares and to try to puzzle out how fast his life changed.