The Draconis Diary, part two

 

 

Chapter One - Home, Sweet Home.

 

They landed on Bonriki Island after a relaxed flight in Draconis’ private jet.

“Are you sure they’ll let us in?” Faith asked Draconis, indicating herself and the two girls. Buffy and Willow were sufficiently hypnotized, and followed passively.

“No problem,” Draconis said back as they approached customs.

“Mr. Draconis!” the customs officer greeted him. “Welcome back. I hope you had a pleasant flight?”

“A very pleasant flight, Paco,” Draconis answered. The man glanced at the three girls, and an even wider grin appeared on the officer’s face. “Now, could you arrange for a car to take us to the dockside?”

“Everything is already taken care of, sir. You and your companions are cleared. Have a pleasant day, sir.”

“Thanks, Paco. Here,” Draconis answered pleasantly, and flipped the man a gold coin. The man grabbed it out of mid-air, and bowed deeply. He showed them to a stretch limousine, probably the only one on the entire archipelago.

“He would have kissed your feet if you asked him to,” Faith muttered in awe.

Draconis shrugged. “I’m a celebrity around here. Everyone knows to leave me alone. And as long as they treat me the way I like to be treated, I don’t mind throwing money around.”

“What money was that anyway? It looked like gold.”

“It is gold. A 16th century golden Spanish Sovereign. Should fetch a good price, certainly considering it’s a part of a never-recovered treasure.”

“Let me guess. You stole it?”

“You got it, kid. You’re learning fast,” Draconis smugly answered. The limousine pulled up to a private dock, and Draconis held the door open for Faith and the other two girls. Buffy and Willow were still staring with unseeing eyes, their hypnosis absolute.

Faith’s jaw hit the ground. “What…is…that?”

“A boat,” Draconis answered.

“What? You couldn’t get anything larger?” Faith muttered quietly as they boarded. The chauffeur of the limo carried a couple of cases aboard.

“Next model comes only in battleship gray,” Draconis answered smoothly. Faith looked around the luxurious ship, the marble walls, teak-wooden floors, leather seats, and all the luxury one could ever want.

“This must have cost a fortune,” Faith said, more to herself than to Draconis.

“Twenty million,” Draconis answered her thought. Faith stared at him with open eyes.

“Dollars?” she asked dumbly.

“Yep. US dollars. What were you expecting? Pesos?”

Faith shook her head as Draconis showed her around the luxurious yacht. She couldn’t believe the size of her room… It was at least as big as the living room in her old apartment had been. And the size of the bed… Faith sighed. To her, who grew up in poverty, this was a dream.

Then the chauffeur asked where to put the suitcases. Faith looked confusedly at the man, and asked,

“What suitcases? I didn’t bring more than a shoulder bag!”

“I took the liberty of phoning ahead,” Draconis said. “These are your new clothes. I hope you like them. If not, we’ll get you new ones.”

Faith took one of the cases, literally ripping it out of the chauffeur’s hand, and threw it up on the bed. The plush mattress shifted under the weight, a fact not gone unnoticed by Faith. Everything was plush and comfortable. The dream-feeling intensified. Faith threw the case open.

Inside were the most beautiful dresses she had ever seen. The silk ranged in colors from deep red to a heavenly blue. Faith stared. “These are for me?” she asked, actually forming tears.

“They are,” Draconis confirmed. Faith threw herself around his neck, kissing him on both his cheeks.

“Remind me to buy you clothes more often,” Draconis said, displaying a wide smile. He turned to the chauffeur, smiling as well, and relieved the man of the second suitcase. He tipped the man a silver coin, and the chauffeur bowed respectfully, and took his leave.

“Here’s the rest, honey,” Draconis said, putting the second suitcase next to the first one. The second case had more mundane clothing in it: sweaters, jeans, sweats, and various kind of underwear. Draconis extracted a black pouch. “And I just know you’ll love these.”

Faith took the pouch, and unzipped it. The rectangular pouch opened, and revealed a set of earrings, a bracelet, and a brooch. Faith gulped. “Look at the size of these stones…” Faith muttered.

“The crown jewels of Maharani Solu,” Draconis said. When Faith wanted to comment, Draconis barged in, “And no, I didn’t steal those. They were payment for a job I did for her.”

Faith’s hands were shaking as the zipped the pouch closed. “This…it’s too much, D-man. I can’t accept these! They must cost a fortune! And what the fuck is a Maharani?”

“A Maharani is a female Maharaja. Besides, I want you to have them, Faith. Contrary to what you might think, I can appreciate real beauty. And I just know these will look beautiful on you,” Draconis said, pushing the pouch back towards Faith. “Please, accept them.”

Faith sighed, and pressed the pouch close to her. “Thank you,” she whispered. Draconis smiled, and hugged her.

“You’re most welcome, Faith. You’re most welcome.”

The boat ride didn’t take as long as Faith thought it would take. Soon, they were standing on Draconis’ little island. When Faith saw no one else disembark, she asked, “Where’s the crew?”

“What crew?” Draconis asked. Faith shook her head. “That thing went on automatic?”

“Yep. Now, take a look at your new home,” Draconis told the dark-haired Slayer.

Faith turned around, and shifted her gaze away from the boat for the first time. She whistled. “Damn. That’s a big place,” she said in awe. The building had a circular center, and two wings going out from the center circle. They were laid out in an overstretched V-form.

“The North and South Wings are vastly different. The North wing is the modern wing, is very light in interior decorating, and has all the modern pleasantries. The South Wing is the opposite, is very dark and gothic in design, and only has modern conveniences where they don’t interfere with the look and feel of the design.”

“But, they look the same!” Faith exclaimed.

“From the outside, yes,” Draconis said. “Now, your room is wherever you want, either a modern room with a double bed in the North Wing, or a gothic room with four-poster bed and all kinds of gothic goodies in the South Wing. Buffy and Willow will be taking one of the rooms in the basement… at least, in the beginning.”

“Ok, D-man. Give. What’s in the basement?” Faith asked. Nothing could shock her now. She believed she had seen it all.

“The basement holds my collection of treasures, artifacts, weapons, and all other kinds of goodies I’ve accumulated over the ages. It also has a large multi-parted dungeon, with the ‘Medieval’ section, the ‘Moorish’ section, and the ‘Inquisition’ section. And then there’s one multi-purpose section, which I can modify to whatever suits that particular whim. A couple of ‘guest’ rooms are available there, for special guests, like Buffy and Willow. The rooms can be very comfortable to very uncomfortable. It all depends on the guest in question. Oh, yeah, before I forget, there’s also a nuclear bunker there.”

Faith nodded in appreciation. “Cool.”

“Thought so too. So, shall we go inside?”

“Of course,” Faith acknowledged. She and Draconis walked to the front entrance. Only after they reached it did Draconis notice that Buffy and Willow hadn’t followed. The particular trance had had put them under didn’t allow for them to make their own decisions, so he barked at them to follow. The two girls ran.

Soon, Faith was looking around the circular room she was in. A flat cylinder, the room extended only one story high, and sported a glass roof. Faith saw four doors; one was the large front door she and Draconis had used to enter. Directly in front of her was a smaller door. A door without handle was visible on her left, while a large dark-wooden antique door greeted her on the right. The door sported massive antique iron doorknockers.

“North and South?” Faith asked, pointing in turn to the left and right.

“Of course,” Draconis answered. “Now, let’s show you around. But first, let’s take care of Buffy and Willow, shall we?”

“Sure,” Faith answered. Draconis smiled, and walked to the left. The door slid open on their approach.

“Access-granted. Integrity-one-zero-zero-percent. Welcome-home.”

“Thanks, Robbie,” Draconis answered. “Any visitors?”

“One-visit-cleaning-crew. Integrity-not-compromised.”

“Cool! A talking computer!” Faith said. Draconis snickered a little.

“Yeah. Robbie takes care of things. Yo, Robbie. Meet Faith.” Draconis reached out, and grabbed Faith’s hand. A creepy feeling raced over her spine, as if someone was very closely scrutinizing her.

“Welcome-Faith. I-am-Robbie. Faith-please-use-your-voice.”

“Uh…Hi?” Faith asked.

“User-Faith. Please-say-your-full-name.”

“Faith Spencer,” Faith answered as Draconis urged her on. It was important to Draconis, so she complied.

“Voice-analysis-complete. Welcome-Faith.”

“Now Robbie will answer to you,” Draconis said as he showed her to the first door on the right of the entrance into the North Wing. They started descending a massive wooden staircase, spiraling downward. “Sorry about that, but I just plain forgot about it. For me, Robbie’s a given,” Draconis apologized.

“No problem,” Faith muttered. Then, more clearly, she asked while jerking her thumb over her shoulder at the two girls, “And them?”

“I didn’t introduce them. Robbie will ignore them because they came in with me, and I’ll set up the necessary programs later so they can’t do a thing without the say-so of either of us.”

“You trust me that far?” Faith asked. Draconis stopped on the middle of the steps, and turned to Faith. She halted as well, and turned to meet his gaze. Buffy and Willow, being mindless drones, just halted.

“Faith… Yes, I trust you that far,” Draconis answered, almost sadly. Then, his tone turned hard as he continued, “Do not abuse my trust, I urge you. You would not like it. If you want to leave, you tell me, and you can leave. I won’t stop you. But do NOT abuse my trust, because I swear to you, I will raise the Seven Hells if you do.”

Faith shuddered at the threat. A fearful gaze locked with Draconis’.

“Now, let’s forget we ever talked about this, and let’s enjoy our fun, ok?” Draconis said, his tone back to cheerful. Faith took a couple of deep breaths, and nodded. They continued their descent, with Buffy and Willow right behind them.

It took less than five minutes for Buffy and Willow to be ‘checked in’. Draconis dropped the hypnosis as soon as they were in the room.

Faith looked around, and found the room about medium in size, with a double bed, a toilet, and a sink. There was one table, and one chair. Draconis dragged up a second chair from somewhere.

“Where are we?” Buffy demanded. “What are you going to do to us?”

Draconis smiled neutrally. “You are in my home, located on the island of Bikenubati. Now, as to what I’ll do to you two depends on how well you behave. There are cameras and microphones hidden in this room, so be warned: you will be monitored. Now, these are the rules: do as you’re told, keep your mouths shut, and don’t complain. If you do that, you will find me a most beneficial Master, and you will be treated well. If you disobey… well, then we’ll have a party.”

Buffy rushed Draconis. She never got a punch out at him as he sidestepped her clumsy attack, and used her momentum to launch her into the nearest wall. Buffy’s head gave a horrible-sounding thud as it connected. She sunk to the ground, groggy.

Draconis stepped closer to her, grabbed Buffy at the elbows, and worked her onto the bed.

“That wasn’t nice,” Draconis said in an admonishing tone, as if he were addressed a child. “Your punishment will be a 24-hour fast. Willow, come with us.”

Draconis turned, and started to leave. Faith shrugged, and followed. After the two Immortals had left the room, they waited for five seconds for Willow to follow.

After waiting for ten seconds, Draconis closed and locked the door, locking both girls inside. He pressed an intercom switch right next to the door. A small TV screen lit up, displaying the two girls sitting side-by-side on the bed.

“You will both fast for 24 hours. The water has been disconnected, so don’t think about washing up. The toilet is the same thing. You can use it all you want, but there is no water to flush it with. Twenty-four hours in isolation should teach you two bitches to obey.”

After Draconis let go of the switch, Faith asked, “Twenty-four hours? Isn’t that…short?”

Draconis shook his head. “You’re seeing it from our point, Faith. We ate on the plane, and had a snack on the yacht. They had nothing. And we had all the drink we wanted, whenever we wanted. They didn’t. They were locked in hypnosis.”

Faith nodded, grinning evilly. “That’s right! I forgot all about that! You’re a devious one, D-man.”

Draconis made a small mock-bow, and answered, “Glad you approve. Now, how about dinner?”

Faith shrugged. “Sure. What are we having?”

“Depends on where you want to dine,” Draconis answered deadpan. “We can eat in the North Wing, in which case we have modern stuff. We could go to the South Wing, and eat things like roast boar, and drink mead, or we could go out for dinner.”

“Mead? What is that?” Faith asked.

“Mead is…well, it’s like beer, but it’s made from honey instead of grain. It’s something that was very popular with the Vikings.”

“Cool,” Faith responded. “And about going out, what would you have in mind?”

“Well, Bonriki island is quite well endowed… probably due to my presence. I’m a huge boost for the economy,” Draconis smiled. “Speaking of economy, that reminds me. Yo, Robbie. Transfer all assets from the mayor of Sunnydale to my accounts, will you?”

“Transfer-account-in-progress. Liquidating-all-assets-and-transferring-to-holding-accounts.”

“How much is it?” Faith asked Draconis. To her surprise, Robbie answered.

“Holding-account-plus-two-five-zero-four-eight-nine-two-five-six-dollars-US.”

“Huh?” Faith asked. Draconis gave a small smile.

“Robbie has a problem with numbers. He said, two hundred and fifty million, four hundred and eighty-nine thousand, two hundred and fifty-six dollars.”

“And-four-six-dollar cents,” Robbie added.

“You have a smart-ass computer?” Faith asked.

“Well, sometimes, the cents hang back a little. Takes longer to compute or something,” Draconis answered. Then, smirking, he added, “But I have to agree, it sounds like a smart-ass computer, doesn’t it?”

Faith shook her head in amusement. “I will love it here,” she stated more to herself than to Draconis.

“So. Dinner,” Draconis reminded her. He had a twinkle in his eyes, and it reminded Faith just how different Draconis was, here on his island.

 

That evening, the two of them went out to Bonriki Island. Again, Faith was surprised at the servile attitude the people displayed towards Draconis. They entered a small restaurant; the only waiter showed them to what must be, without a doubt, the best table in the entire restaurant.

It was located out back, in a large garden, and seemed to be the only table there. The garden smelled wonderful, and Faith once more felt as if she were trapped in a fairytale. Only her prince charming had a dark side, which she had almost forgotten in this paradise.

“My private table,” Draconis told Faith. “I hope you like it?”

“I do, D-man. I do,” Faith muttered. She could hardly believe that the man sitting in front of her was the same Draconis that had brutally wiped out Sunnydale not 24 hours earlier. He was dressed in an impeccable tuxedo, complete with lacquered shoes. Faith estimated his outfit to be at least $1,000.

Her left hand brushed absentmindedly over the blue silk of the dress she was wearing. Somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to wear the crown jewels Draconis had given her. Instead, she was wearing a more conservative set of jewelry she had found in a safe in her bedroom. Again, Faith had been astonished at how well Draconis had planned ahead.

“So, what would you like for dinner?” Draconis asked, looking up from his menu. Faith startled; she hadn’t even been aware the waiter had brought the menus.

“I’m sorry, D-man. I dreamed off,” Faith apologized. Draconis smiled, held up one hand.

“Don’t worry about it. I can imagine it’s overwhelming. Calmly take a look. We’ve got all evening. I can assure you, no one is going anywhere,” Draconis told her, a small smile playing on his lips.

Faith smiled, and opened her menu. Somehow, she hadn’t expected this diverse a menu on an island a small as this one. “They have everything, don’t they?” she asked.

“I come here to relax. I know the chef-owner of this restaurant. As such, all I want is here. Now, I can really recommend the steak du chef, the duc l’orange, and the lobster au naturel.”

“What are you having?” Faith asked curiously.

“I’m having the 3-pound lobster naturel. Chef Manuel makes a delicious lobster naturel.”

“What’s this naturel stuff?” Faith asked, a frown on her face.

“It means ‘natural’. What it comes down to is that there is no sauce, and only some very moderate seasoning,” Draconis explained.

“Ah. Okay…I’ll have one of those too, then,” Faith decided.

Draconis nodded. “Good choice. Anything to drink? Wine?” Draconis got a bigger smile on his face as he added, “Champagne? Care to celebrate?”

“They will actually give me alcohol without a fake ID?” Faith asked, totally surprised.

Draconis burst out laughing. “I’m sorry,” he said at the look on her face. “Faith, honey, they would serve you pure arsenic if you wanted it. My word is law. And yes, they would have served it to you without me here as well. There is no prohibition law on Bonriki.”

Faith smiled. “Champagne, then. I feel like celebrating.”

“Great!” Draconis exclaimed with a big smile. “Fernando! Come here, man!” he bellowed good-naturedly. The waiter approached, bowing.

“Fernando, we’re celebrating. Two lobster naturel, and a bottle of your finest champagne. Oh, and could you get some mood-music out here?”

“Of course, sir,” Fernando said, bowing deeply. It was obvious to Faith that the man would have done the impossible if Draconis asked him to. Fernando disappeared.

“Now, let’s enjoy our evening,” Draconis said a couple of minutes later, clinking his champagne flute against Faith’s. It was obvious that Fernando had done his best, as two violinists entered the garden, and set up not far away. Far enough to ensure privacy, but not too far away either.

The evening passed uneventfully, with Faith getting more and more into the spirit of things. She enjoyed the attentions the people paid her and Draconis, and couldn’t help but feel flattered by them.

After they returned to Draconis’ ship, Faith couldn’t help herself. Due to jetlag and excitement, she fell asleep, lulled by the gentle rocking of the waves. Draconis, as was his custom, was standing at the bow of his ship, staring over the waves. He couldn’t help but be nostalgic for his Viking days.

 

Chapter two – Work, And Having Fun Doing It.

 

They had been on the island for some time now. Faith had grown accustomed to the strangeness of the place, and she relished in the seemingly absolute power Draconis wielded over this entire archipelago. What he said, happened, and what he asked for, he got. And, since she was his new charge, her word was law, too.

Buffy and Willow were starting to come around. Due more to the frequent and severe whiplashes than to respect, the two girls were beginning to know their place in the grand scheme of things.

One night, four days after arriving on the island, Draconis and Faith were dining in the grand Viking Hall in the South wing. Torches cast an ever-changing illumination over the great hall. The ceiling was invisible, and the gloomy atmosphere made the truly enormous space look and feel cozily comfortable instead of monstrously large.

“Roast boar on the menu tonight,” Draconis said. “Viking style. I think you’ll like it.”

“I’m sure I will, D-man,” Faith answered.

“WILLOW!” Draconis yelled, his voice carrying over the great hall, to the adjourning kitchen. Willow scampered out, and came at a standstill next to Draconis.

“What?” she asked. Draconis’ smile vanished. Willow’s eyes got a scared look in them, and a soft trembling was visible in her body.

“When’s dinner ready?”

“In about fifteen minutes,” she answered.

“In about fifteen minutes, WHO?” Draconis shouted, every trace of friendliness gone. His eyes drilled into hers, their coldness overwhelming what little resolve she had of standing up to Draconis. Her lower lip trembled as she answered,

“In about fifteen minutes, SIR!”

“Good,” Draconis answered, sitting back down. The coldness was gone, the harshness in his voice disappeared as snow in the sun. “Dismissed,” he told the girl, and Willow hurriedly made her leave.

Faith was just about to ask whether or not he was going to let her get away with it when Draconis yelled after Willow, “and report to the discipline room one hour after dinner.”

Willow’s feet almost screeched to a halt. Her body sagged, her shoulders lowered, and her head bent. Shaking, she composed herself and ran into the kitchen after doing so.

Faith shook her head. “You did that on purpose,” she stated.

“They have to learn that there is no escape, Faith. They can’t stand up to me and expect to get away with it,” Draconis responded. “You know, I’m getting thirsty,” he added.

Faith nodded. “Yeah, me too, D-man. HEY! WILLOW!”

Willow once more came out of the kitchen, her entire posture dejected. She stood still next to Faith.

“Yes, ma’am?” Willow’s tiny, dejected voice asked. Faith shot an approving glance at Draconis.

“Get us something to drink,” Faith told the redhead.

Willow remained standing there, obviously contemplating on how to state her next question.  “What should I bring?”

“Get the drinking horns, and tell Buffy to bring us a barrel of mead,” Draconis ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Willow said, and left. Faith turned to Draconis after the girl had left.

“She’s learning,” Faith told Draconis.

“A human is just like a dog. All you need to do is know when to punish, and when to reward,” Draconis said. “In a few weeks, I can have her dance the hula butt-naked, if I wanted to."

Faith closed her eyes, and called up a picture. She gave a cat-like growl. “Could be fun,” she dark-haired Slayer said.

“I know what would be even better,” Draconis said, smiling. At Faith’s questioning look, he went on, “Have them both dance the hula naked.”

Faith roared with laughter, nodding her head in agreement while doing so. “You’re so devious, D-man!” A wave of delicious smell, originating in the kitchen, hit her nostrils. Breathing deeply through her nose, Faith commented, “That smells delicious. Who would’ve thought that B was a good cook?”

“Well, they say smell is half the taste. Now, let’s hope that the rest of the taste is as good as the first part,” Draconis commented. Willow brought the two massive drinking horns, while Buffy rolled over a massive barrel of mead.

“Thanks, girls,” Draconis said, dismissing them. Faith had been explained that this was another psychological trick. Thanking them was their ‘reward’, something to look forward to during the execution of their tasks. Over time, of course, the execution itself would become the reward.

Draconis opened the barrel, and dunked his drinking horn into the yellow liquid. Faith followed his example.

“The idea is that, as long as there is liquid in it, you can’t put the horn down. As you see, there are no holders for these things. Now, you either eat with one hand while holding the horn in the other, or you down it,” Draconis told Faith. For emphasis, he downed the massive horn. It contained at least a liter and a half of the strong liquid. It was empty in under fifteen seconds.

“Damn, D-man,” Faith muttered, looking at the empty horn as Draconis put it down on the able. As he had said, the horn didn’t stay upright by itself, and it would have spilled its contents over the table. Faith started sipping from her horn.

Draconis refilled his horn. Fully. Faith grunted, taking another sip of her horn.

Buffy was indeed a good cook, and both Draconis and Faith went through the trouble of thanking her for it, and telling her that she did well. Faith couldn’t believe how much better Buffy looked under the praise.

Willow, on the other hand, was a whole less happy when she entered the ‘discipline room’, basically a nice way of saying ‘dungeon’.

Faith, not at all used to drinking like this, had retired for the night.

“You were insolent and disrespectful to your betters, Willow,” Draconis told her as she stripped. He couldn’t help but ogle the redhead’s good-looking body. Her firm tits, the nice patch of red hair between her legs… Draconis’ mind, under influence of alcohol, now came under the influence of something completely else.

“You know the drill, slave. Bend over,” Draconis ordered, pointing to a large stool. Willow’s eyes pleaded with him as she moved to the bench, bent over, and gripped the handles. It pushed her ass out into the air, supporting her at the hips and lower belly. The handles were there to make sure that her body would remain erect. There was nothing to hold her tits, making them dangle into the air.

Draconis let the cat-o-nine-tails whoosh through the air as he approached the trembling girl.

“Please…” Willow begged. “Please. I’ll be good! Please, don’t hurt me!”

The whip hit Willow’s ass. The girl screamed out in pain. “Don’t tell me what to do, bitch,” Draconis told her coldly. The whip cracked again. Draconis knew how to handle the thing. He didn’t even raise a single wilt on Willow’s perfect skin. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

“I’m sorry, Master!” Willow said as another crack pulled another scream out of her throat. Twenty lashes Willow received. She knew better than to get up after she counted twenty.

She remained in her position, quietly sobbing. Her back and ass stung badly, angry red lines cross-crossing over the punished areas. Draconis hadn’t raised a single welt.

Draconis looked at the girl for half a minute, quietly deciding to himself what to do next. His mind and body, under influence of the alcohol, reacted furiously to the sight of the naked, and punished, girl.

Stripping in record pace, Draconis was on Willow before she knew shat had happened. He entered her pussy from behind, making the girl grunt out as his big member spread her. Grunting like a savage animal, Draconis fucked her. He came within minutes. The first stress released, he gathered his clothes.

Willow was sobbing harder and deeper now. He had given her no warning. She had been dry as a desert when Draconis had taken her. “Get up, and get dressed,” Draconis said in an oddly detached voice. Let’s continue this in her room, Draconis thought. Then, a new thought crossed his mind. Let’s continue this in Buffy’s room. “And come with me,” he added.

Gathering his clothes, Draconis preceded the redhead to Buffy’s room. Buffy’s room was the ‘guest’ room next to Willow’s. The initial chamber the two girls had been locked in had remained Willow’s, while Buffy was shown to the room right next to it.

Draconis led Willow to the door of Buffy’s room. He opened the door, ordered Willow inside, and closed it behind him. Buffy, who had been asleep, awoke with a start. She jumped to her legs.

“What…?” she started. When she saw Draconis, she relaxed her posture. “Sorry,” she apologized, bowing her head. It’s been so easy to break Buffy. Possibly because her mother’s brain was shot out right in front of her eyes. He shot a look at the fair-haired Slayer. That would do it for most people.

“Strip,” Draconis told Buffy. A momentary look of resistance crossed Buffy’s eyes, before being replaced with fear. The girl stripped. “You too,” he told Willow, who obeyed without a hint of resistance.

“Kiss her,” Draconis said to Willow, indicating Buffy with his head. “And finger her pussy while you’re doing it.”

The two friends locked gazes, and silently approached each other. Slowly, their heads came together, their lips locking. Willow’s hands traveled down, and Buffy obediently spread her legs a little, allowing the smaller girl easier access.

Draconis sat down, and looked at the spectacle. “Make love to her,” Draconis told Willow. The redhead released the lip-lock on Buffy, and obviously cast her an apologetic glance. To both Willow’s and Draconis’ surprise, Buffy reached over, and kissed Willow.

The horny bitch wanted her best friend all along! Draconis’ mind realized. Oh, my…this is so interesting. A part of his mind focused on his member. And not just interesting, his mind added.

Willow’s hand kept circling the Slayer’s pussy as her mouth descended on the blonde’s left nipple. The light-brown aureole sported a nipple that was as hard as an eraser, and Willow locked on to it. Buffy sighed, pressing the redhead closer to her, encouraging the witch to suck harder. Willow was only too glad to comply.

Presently, the redhead changed nipples. Buffy reached down, taking control of the witch’s hand. She brought it up, sucking her own juices from Willow’s hand. The redheaded witch groaned.

Willow released Buffy’s nipple, and gently pressed the Slayer down onto the bed, not far from where Draconis was watching it all. Oh, my… I wish Faith were here to see this! Draconis’ mind added a vivid imaginary picture of the dark-haired Slayer joining in this little feast. Draconis immediately shot his load into thin air.

Willow and Buffy, meanwhile, didn’t notice the distraction of Draconis’ mind. Willow had sunk to the floor, in between the blonde’s outstretched legs. Willow’s tongue played over Buffy’s pussy as if it would a musical instrument. Buffy’s hands, entangled into Willow’s auburn tresses, pressed the head deeper into her pussy.

Draconis’ erection refused to subside. Sinking down on his knees behind Willow’s kneeling form, his hand found the witch’s pussy. He found it to be in perfect shape, even after the dry-fucking he’d given her earlier. It was leaking like Niagara Falls. Smiling, Draconis guided himself inside. Willow let out a grunt, while continuing her ministrations of Buffy’s snatch.

Buffy came like a steam train, not believing how excited she was from the view of her best friend, on her knees, being fucked from behind. Not to mention the fact that said friend was eating out Buffy’s pussy at the same time.

Draconis shot deep inside Willow, and remained deep inside her for at least twenty more seconds before pulling out. Feeling oddly relaxed, he sat down to watch the proceedings. The two girls changed positions soon afterwards, cuddling for a few moments before resuming in a frenzied 69-position, Willow more than eagerly letting Buffy take care of her abused pussy.

Fuck, Draconis grunted. I really need to get Faith into this…

Draconis joined in once more, and soon all three were overly satisfied. Lying on his back, Draconis was happy to just cuddle with the two girls. He fell asleep within minutes, Buffy tucked under his left arm, and Willow tucked under the right.

Faith awoke the next morning, and walked to the breakfast room in the modern North Wing, expecting to find Draconis there, as she usually did every morning. Today, Faith especially didn’t want to do any thinking. The mead had given her a splitting headache.

Faith entered the breakfast room, a medium-sized room with a large glass wall. It gave a splendid view of the ocean. Today, Faith was not in the mood for views.

Great. No Draconis, Faith thought to herself. She dumped herself in her usual chair.

“Buffy!” Faith yelled. No reply came. “Willow!” she yelled. Again, no answer. Frowning, Faith’s brain groaned as it was forced to start working. “Yo, Robbie!” Faith had adopted the ‘calling sign’ for the house computer from Draconis. “Where’s Draconis?”

“Draconis-is-in-special-guest-room-two,” the computer supplied. Groaning, Faith got up, and made her way to the basement, expecting that the interruption was probably a punishment of some sort. She passed by the door leading to the vault, a room she still hadn’t been shown. Soon, she opened the door of Buffy’s room, finding it curious that it wasn’t locked.

Faith’s mouth opened when she saw just what the disturbance was. There Draconis was, still asleep, a very naked and very pretty girl tucked under each arm.

Faith coughed. Six eyes opened, and turned almost simultaneously towards the door.

“Faith,” Draconis said. “Good morning.”

“Looks like you had a lot of fun, D-man. Care to tell me why I wasn’t invited?” Faith’s voice sounded piqued. Buffy and Willow cringed, expecting to be punished. It was the same sort of voice she used when they had done something wrong, after all.

“You almost passed out,” Draconis reminded her. “Too much mead, remember?”

Faith groaned. “Don’t remind me,” she said, leaning her back against the doorframe while holding her head.

“Hangover?” Draconis asked. Faith groaned.

“Don’t mock me, D-man,” she begged. Smiling, Draconis disentangled himself from the two girls, who were still staring fearfully at Faith and Draconis.

“Come with me, Faith,” Draconis said, leading the dark Slayer out of the room. He looked over his shoulder, and told Willow and Buffy, “Get dressed, girls. There’s another busy day ahead of us.”

“Yes, sir,” Buffy hurriedly said. Willow just nodded. Seemingly satisfied, Draconis left the room with a hung-over Faith in tow.

Feeling good about himself, as he always did after a night of drink and girls, Draconis led Faith to the great hall they had dined in the previous day. Dunking his horn in the almost-empty barrel, Draconis presented it to Faith.

“Drink,” he ordered. Faith’s face got a disgusted look, and her eyes stared at him.

“You’ll feel better, trust me,” Draconis said. Faith decided that she had two choices. Either she suffered all day, or she took the horn and drunk. It would either cure the hangover, or it would make her so drunk she wouldn’t feel it anymore.

Shrugging, Faith took the horn…and emptied it. Draconis laughed in amusement.

“Good stuff, huh?” he asked as he hit her shoulder good-naturedly. “Mead will cure just about anything.”

Faith spluttered, then added, “Or make you so drunk you won’t feel sick.”

Draconis laughed heartily. “True! You’re getting into the spirit of things!”

Faith’s eyes started to open. “You know…it’s strange, but I feel better.”

“Told you so,” Draconis responded. “Now, anything in particular you want to do today?”

“When are we going to start training?” Faith asked. “I’ve been here for four days now, and I want to get started!”

Draconis nodded. “I know, I know. But, we can’t leave Buffy and Willow alone for too long. Buffy is more or less conditioned, but Willow still isn’t. I want to give her a couple more days, and then we can start leaving them alone during the day. And in another month or so, we can leave on extended training trips, and leave them alone for longer periods of time.”

“I see. You’re afraid they’ll escape,” Faith said.

“And alert the authorities. I don’t want to move away from here. Even if I blow up whatever comes this way, they’ll know I’m here.”

“I see.”

 

Three days later, Draconis showed Faith to the vault in his basement.

“Alright, Faith. Today is the first day of the rest of your life. Robbie will let you in here now. Whatever is in here is yours now as well as mine. I have what I need right here,” Draconis lectured, putting his hand in Skofnung’s hilt.

Faith nodded. He’s probably making this out to be bigger than it actually is. After all, he said it: he has all he needs with Skofnung.

The vault opened as Draconis keyed the pad next to the door. It scanned his handprint; Faith’s would now be accepted as well.

The Slayer’s jaw dropped. Inside the vault were countless weapons, arranged neatly by type. Swords were categorized in a dozen different categories, ranging from katanas to broadswords. Axes of all types and varieties were neatly arranged in the large racks needed to support the truly huge battle-axes. Next came bows, ranging from short, over battle, to longbows. Crossbows were next, going from handheld models to the huge foot-bows able to cross a football field without problems.

That was the right side of the massive vaulted room. On the left side, treasure was heaped up. Gold, gems, jewelry. The dim lighting provided an eerie atmosphere as it reflected of the treasures.

“My little obsession,” Draconis admitted. “Here is a good sword for you.” He reached for a sword on one of the racks. It was a katana, gently curving blade attached to a golden hilt. The sheath was made of tropical hardwoods, laid in with gems.

“D-man…this…it’s beautiful!” Faith muttered, accepting the blade. Whatever doubts she had concerning balance disappeared as soon as she drew the weapon from its sheath. The blade was a polished silver-gray. The balance couldn’t be more perfect. She gave it a couple of practice swings. It behaved perfectly; obeyed every minute order her wrist, hand, or fingers gave the golden hilt.

“I took it from a samurai over 150 years ago,” Draconis told her. “This particular blade had been in the same family for at least three hundred years. It’s name, translated, is ‘DragonFire’.”

“It’s gorgeous…but how…” Faith stuttered. Draconis smiled.

“I had the same doubts. It looks more like a jewel than a sword; yet it is perfectly balanced. This, Faith, is a fighting blade, plain and simple. Most opponents won’t take you seriously. They’ll think you don’t know swords. They will be wrong.”

Faith sent the sword flying towards Draconis. He blocked with a sword he drew from a nearby rack.

“You know I shouldn’t draw Skofnung unless I draw blood with it,” he said. Smiling, he added, “You will make an excellent student, Faith Spencer. Already you’re exploiting weaknesses. When I’m through with you, you will be almost as devious as I am.” Draconis laughed.

“Or better,” Faith replied.

“Not with my thousand years on you, young lady. Now, let’s get outside. It’s time to start training. Oh, you’ll need guns, too. Come,” Draconis said curtly, walking to the back of the vault. Faith followed, strapping the sword to her waist as they walked. Somehow, it felt right to her to be walking around with a blade strapped to her waist, almost as if she were complete now. Shaking off the strange feeling, she concentrated on Draconis.

He pushed open a door, leading her inside a second room. What now? Faith questioned herself. The second room sported bright fluorescent lighting. The room itself had plain concrete walls. Faith felt oddly disappointed after the gentle stone walls of the vaulted room she had just left.

Then she saw the contents of the room. The walls were lined with racks, sporting guns. All sorts of guns, including things that looked vicious enough to be outlawed by every convention ever devised. Faith grinned, and nodded.

“All these things work?” she asked.

Draconis grinned, took the weapon nearest him, which happened to be a rifle of some sorts, and racked the slide. He turned, pointing the weapon straight at the other side of the room. He pulled the trigger. The nuzzle flashed as it emptied its clip.

“Fuck! You keep them loaded?!” Faith barked.

“I keep the clip ready,” Draconis said. “Safety precaution. If anyone ever tried to wage war on me, they’d find me trenched in, and loaded with enough weapons and ammunition to keep the war going for decades.”

“No kidding,” Faith muttered. “What is that thing, anyway?”

“This?” Draconis asked, holding out the weapon he just fired. “Kalashnikov AK-59. Never made it into production. This is a prototype.”

“You have weapons that were never built?” Faith asked rhetorically.

“Yep,” Draconis replied proudly. “You see, I have these contacts… and they keep the really good stuff from entering production, and get me the only few models that were built.”

“Shit,” Faith grunted.

“Anyway, we can spend all day in here, but I think you need to burn off all those calories you’ve been keeping in,” Draconis joked, leading her to the back. Here the rifles, sniper or otherwise, were replaced by handguns of various designs. Draconis handed her two guns.

“These are identical twins to my guns. Remember, these are the only ones ever made. Colt even lost the blueprints in that tragic fire a couple of years back.”

“And you find ammo for them?” Faith asked, stunned.

“Standard 9mm ammo will do. But, I have my own made… higher quality stuff.”

“Shit,” Faith muttered quietly. “Anything I should know about these?” she asked, putting them in the holsters Draconis threw her.

“Not really. Point, and squeeze the trigger. Only thing I can think of is the fact that they’re fully waterproof. They will fire underwater. Don’t know how they do it, ‘cause I don’t care. I just know they will.”

Faith’s eyes opened wide. Very wide.

“Come on, I’ll show you where I keep the ammo.”

 

Over the next couple of weeks, Draconis put Faith through the most intense physical workout she had ever experienced. First thing he did was make her swim the three kilometers to the small training-island he had bought.

Then, he sent her through push-ups, pull-ups, and weapons trainings. Faith learned how to shoot from two guns at once. She learned hand-to-hand combat, how to disable an opponent with a single blow. She learned how to use the magnificent sword Draconis had given her. In short, Faith learned the meaning of the word ‘pain’.

Draconis pushed Faith hard and deep. But one thing he always kept in mind: stimulation. He made sure everything he had her do was never dull, boring, or tedious. Faith found it all fascinating, and Draconis enjoyed the challenge of shaping his student.

A month had passed since Faith’s training had started, and she was really feeling the improvement. Faith walked into the breakfast room of the North Wing, the modern room sporting a large window overlooking the ocean. She liked this place, and never grew tired of thinking it.

“Today, we go on excursion,” Draconis said as greeting as soon as Faith has sat down.

“Eggs and bacon,” Faith told Willow, who bowed and left the breakfast room. Turning to Draconis, she asked,

“Excursion? Where?”

“Chile,” Draconis stated, and attacked the slab of meat on his plate. Knowing better than to wait for more information, Faith asked the next obvious question.

“And what are we going to do in Chile?” Curiosity laced her voice.

“Hunting,” Draconis replied with a crooked grin, continuing to eat the steak on his breakfast plate.

Faith sighed. “Hunting for what?” she asked in exasperation.

“Humans, of course. I’m going to teach you the art of sniping. I think Willow and Buffy have been conditioned enough to remain by themselves for a couple of weeks.”

Faith nodded, looking at the redhead that obediently put a plate with eggs and bacon down in front of the dark-haired Slayer. “You wouldn’t try to escape now, would you?” Faith asked Willow. Faith smiled when she noticed a glass of orange juice that was also on the tray.

“No, Mistress Faith,” Willow replied obediently.

“You can go now,” Faith said, waving her hand in a dismissing manner. Willow bowed, and left the room. “I think you’re right,” she told Draconis, who nodded self-assuredly.

Taking Draconis’ jet, the two were soon in Chile, where Faith just smiled when they just walked through customs without being checked. Draconis knew how to handle the officials, just like they knew how to handle the gold coin he slipped them.

A couple of hours later, the two were high up in the Andes mountain range, perched on a cliff overlooking a small village. Draconis was staring through a pair of binoculars. Faith was perched behind a modified sniping rifle, staring through the scope.

“Do you see the man at the fountain?” Draconis asked.

“U-huh,” Faith replied in confirmation.

“Shoot him in the left arm,” Draconis told his charge.

“But his right side is turned to us,” Faith muttered.

“Precisely,” came the curt reply. Faith let out her breath, and focused on the image. Finally, the man seemed to turn, and Faith took aim. The rifle bucked against her arm as she gently squeezed the trigger. The bullet hit the man in his left arm, just as Draconis had asked.

“A little off-center, but not bad for a first try on a live target,” Draconis told his ward.

“Gee, thanks,” Faith muttered sarcastically, not bothered in the least by all the commotion in the village below.

“You see that guy who looks important? The one all the others are looking at for guidance?”

“Yeah,” Faith grunted, staring through the scope.

“That’s the medicine man. Take him out. Right between the eyes, if you can.”

Faith gave a small smile, and concentrated. The man moved around a lot, and her line was continuously blocked by other villagers. Getting tired of the interference, she shot the first person to get between her and her shot. It happened to be a woman holding a baby.

As the villagers scattered, Faith shot the medicine man in the back of his head. The man fell, and rolled over. Faith shot the corpse between the eyes.

Draconis laughed heartily. “A good job, Faith. A really good job. Never let anyone get between you and your target.”

“Thanks, D-man!” Faith replied, looking up form the scope, at the village that was lying hundreds of meters further down the valley.

 

Several weeks later, the two came back to their little island, to find it in perfect condition. Willow and Buffy had maintained the place perfectly, and the two warriors found Willow and Buffy waiting for them.

Allowing themselves to relax, Faith and Draconis enjoyed the attentions the two slave-girls were paying them. The rest was of short duration.

“You have ten seconds to explain before I start hunting you,” Draconis said in his satellite phone.

Faith smiled. She was probably the only one in the world who knew just how serious Draconis was about his threats. Since he was listening intently, it was obvious the person on the other side had managed to get Draconis’ attention.

When he hung up, Faith asked Draconis what the phone call had been about.

“The standard,” Draconis replied. “Some filthy rich Japanese business man caught his slut-wife cheating, and doesn’t want a divorce. He wants something more…permanent.”

Faith shrugged. “Big deal. Waste a bitch. Not worth the trouble.”

Draconis smiled. “Maybe the seventy million dollars he pays will be a bigger incentive. Anyway, he sent me a picture through email. All I have to do is go to Japan, and waste the bitch.” Looking at Faith, it was obvious Draconis just got an evil idea. “Or I’ll let you waste her. After all, no better time to practice than on the job.”

“Great! What’s my cut?” Faith asked.

“You get room, board, and training. I wouldn’t become greedy if I were you,” Draconis warned in a stone-cold voice.

“Okay, okay! Jeezes! Don’t get your pants in a wad, D-man!”

“Better,” Draconis replied, getting up. “Anyway, we have to get ready. Buffy, Willow!”

“Yes, Master?” the two slaves asked as they rushed in, bowing.

“We’re going to be gone for a day or two. Keep the house tidy,” he told the two. They bowed, said, “Yes, Master,” and rushed off.

“And we’d better get ready,” Draconis told Faith.

 

Exactly twelve hours later, two sniper rifles were pointing in the direction of a car approaching a school. In addition to a picture, the disgruntled husband had also included all the information Draconis could ever have wanted, and as such, he had decided on getting into action immediately. It was almost too good to be true.

A woman got out of the car, and opened the door for an on storming twelve-year-old daughter.

“Take the shot?” Faith asked, looking at the woman and the beautiful little girl.

“Okay. Take it. I’ll take the kid,” Draconis replied. Faith perched over her scope in reply, and Draconis took aim. Together, the two muffled shots were as one. The mother and her daughter fell at the same time.

Draconis and Faith hurriedly disassembled their rifles, put them away, and left the building they had used as sniper nest. They fully expected to be able to get away in the ruckus that had followed the assassination.

Walking out of the elevator, the two made their way to the front door of the building. Suddenly, two dozen men jumped them. Draconis had Skofnung out in a dazzling display of reflexed speed.

He saw Faith’s knees buckle as her younger immortality had difficulty coping with drugs. He smiled approvingly when he saw the Slayer slam both her open hands onto the nearest man’s chest, and the sound of crushing bones was audible. Drawing her own sword, Faith seemed to regain her composure. She went after a second man.

Feeling the familiar warmth of drugs enter his bloodstream, Draconis hurled a fearsome Viking battle cry. He stabbed the man nearest him, and drew the blade out of the man’s body in an arc that would gut a second man. Kicking a third man so his nose entered his brains, Draconis cried out when he saw a man shoot a second tranquilizer dart into Faith’s body, knocking her out. The Slayer had taken out two men of her own, yet it wasn’t enough.

Draconis felt a second dart enter his skin, yet he ignored the drug’s effects. Thanks to a thousand years of battle, his Immortal body could counter almost anything, and keep him going. Suddenly feeling that the drugs had no effect on their prey, the 6 remaining men drew their rifles, and opened fire.

Draconis was fast, but not even he could avoid the fire from six full-automatic rifles. He fell after enough bullets to kill a herd of elephants, but not before he took out one last of the unknown attackers.

Draconis opened his eyes a couple of minutes later. His clothes were full of holes, but he ignored it. Skofnung lay not far away, and he sheathed the mystical blade. He growled lowly as he surveyed the damage. Bodies lay everywhere, testimony to the attack force that was devastated in its attempt to capture Draconis and Faith. They only got her. Draconis vowed they would die.

Walking to the front door, his gaze rested on something sticking out of the wall. Faith’s sword. It was bloodied, but it was intact. Drawing the bloodied blade from the wall, Draconis looked it over. His low growl became a loud howl. He just knew that they would all die.

Leaving the two sniper sets, Draconis walked out of the building. The building would be gone within half an hour, thanks to a hurriedly placed phone call. Draconis knew what his next goal was: finding out where Faith was. Whoever had taken her was a professional, and Draconis knew it. They were long gone by now, and the only thing he could do was hope to get the mole who handed him out.

Drawing the gun on his right hip, he shot a man driving a Toyota Celica. He had no intention of being picky. The man slumped over, and Draconis unceremoniously pushed the corpse onto the passenger seat. Taking the wheel, he made the car roar off with howling tires.

Barely fifteen minutes after the attack, the car stopped in front of a travel agency, located not far from the take-out site. It was a front, set up by Draconis. The woman running the place was one of his agents, informing potential clients about the rules and regulations of hiring the best. She was the one who had given the client his phone number. She would be the one to know who had tried to take him out.

When he stepped out of the car, he saw her walking to the front door with a suitcase. Immediately, Draconis’ eyes grew colder still. Bingo! I hit the jackpot! A smile displayed on his lips. Pushing open the glass door, he asked in a cheerful voice,

“Going someplace, Narine?”

“Dra…Drac…” the oriental woman stuttered. “I…eh…”

“You will tell me who you’re working for, and you’ll tell me where they are keeping Faith. Non-compliance is not advised,” he told her with a voice cold as frozen nitrogen.

She seemed to steel herself, drawing energy from some hidden reservoir of strength Draconis never knew she had. He liked that in his victims. He would enjoy getting the secret out of her.

Or rather, he would have enjoyed getting it out of her. Faith was in danger. Time was of the essence. Slamming his hand in her gut, Draconis made the woman double over. He pushed on her shoulders, forcing her to fall down in a chair. He lifted her face, locking his gaze with hers.

“You will tell me where Faith Spencer is,” Draconis said on an eerie melody. His eyes seemed to burn into the depths of her soul, gushes of fear and pain washing over her.

“N…o…” the woman muttered. “I won’t…”

“Where is Faith?” Draconis asked, more incessant. “Where?”

Again, the woman shook her head. “Can’t… No…”

Draconis sighed. “Do you know where she is?” he asked finally. The woman groaned. Her lips quivered, and sweat left a shiny layer on her skin.

“Y…yes…” she groaned. “No! Can’t tell!”

Draconis smiled, and broke the trance. “You’re strong of will, Narine. I will enjoy getting the truth out of you.”

Narine looked at Draconis with fear-filled eyes. It would be the last look she had of him in her home country, as Draconis hypnotized her in a travel-trance, the same trance he had used to get Willow and Buffy over to his house.

Draconis would get her there. He would get her there, and he would get the truth out of her. Skofnung agreed with Draconis, and gave an angry shudder, indicating it wouldn’t mind carving up some Japanese food for a change.

Draconis didn’t need to make arrangements. His private plane took off within half an hour after he had captured Narine, and within four hours he was back on his island, thanks to the special supersonic mode of the plane. It cost a small fortune in kerosene, but the plane was able to achieve mach 2. Sometimes, money was no object, and Draconis knew that whoever was responsible would more than make up for the expenses.

“Master?” Buffy asked when she saw him walk in with a strange woman on his heels.

“Faith was kidnapped, and this bitch knows where she is. I’ll make her talk. Fetch Willow, and move yourselves to a guest room on the ground level, you’ve both earned it, and it’s about time I showed some appreciation. This bitch will be taking Willow’s old room, and I will make damn sure she squeals,” Draconis told the golden-haired Slayer, who immediately started bowing.

“Yes, Master. Thank you, Master,” Buffy said, moving off to fetch Willow, and to tell her friend about their reward.

Draconis pulled Narine down the stairs, into the basement. He threw her into the multi-purpose torture chamber, where he broke the trance. Narine woke up, and looked around with a look like a frightened animal.

“Where is Faith?” Draconis asked coldly. Narine’s mouth opened, her expression growing more fearful, now that she saw him smiling. She had never seen him smile. She didn’t even know that he was capable of smiling.

Shaking her head, she said, “No… no… I can’t!”

Draconis’ smile widened. “You undercover bitches are tough. Too bad you went up against the wrong person, Narine. I was the best interrogator of the Spanish Inquisition. I wrote the books on torture. All of them. I will make you speak; believe me. Better talk to me now, and die easily.”

Narine once more shook her head. Draconis nodded. “Thought so,” he replied, and moved. Jumping at her, he swiped her legs down from under her, and tied her with a rope she hadn’t seen him get. Tied to Draconis’ satisfaction, Narine was lifted to her feet.

When he drew Skofnung, Narine gasped, and pleaded with her eyes for him not to hurt her. The sword flashed, and Narine screamed out in fear as the cold blade passed over her body. When she opened her eyes, after feeling no pain, she saw that her clothes had fallen off her body.

Humiliated at being naked in front of Draconis, Narine struggled to get away from him. Draconis, however, continued to follow, keeping his gaze locked on her breasts and vagina, adding to the humiliation.

After half a minute, Draconis pushed and shoved her with a strength she thought impossible to a specific spot in the room. The rope had been tied around her in a special way of Draconis’ own devising, making it so that there was a large loop of it available. He threw it around the hook in the ceiling, causing Narine to stand up uncomfortably on her toes.

“Talk,” Draconis barked, already walked to a cabinet. He got the expected refusal while opening it, and retrieving a cat-o-nine-tails. “Suit yourself,” Draconis said, letting the whip trail gently over Narine’s skin, making her feel the coolness of the black leather.

He disappeared behind her back. Narine screamed out when her back exploded, and she immediately clamped down. She wouldn’t allow him the pleasure of hearing her scream. The tears that were forming were pulled back in, refusing to be shed.

Draconis was a master-interrogator, and as such, waited at different intervals. Sometimes, he would whip her three or four times in short succession to create pain, or he would wait for a couple of seconds, making Narine believe the session was over, causing her to relax, and as such, cause her added agony.

After a hundred lashes, making Narine’s shapely back and ass burn with lingering agony, Draconis walked back to her front, so she could see him.

“Talk,” he ordered. Then, calming his voice, he gently said, “It will make the pain stop, Narine. No more pain; no more humiliation. Think of how good it will make you feel.”

Narine looked miserably at him. Tears had streamed down her face despite her resolve. Her make-up was smeared, her lovely face distorted with residual pain flowing through her nerves. “I can’t…” she begged.

“Then we will continue,” Draconis said on an enjoying tone. Once more, he walked to the cabinet, and retrieved a new cat-o-nine-tails. This one had knots in the lashes, and it had been soaking for a very long time in a solution of salt in vinegar. Draconis walked up to Narine, and seemed to study her for a moment. Then, in a split instant, he lashed out at her.

The knots broke the skin, and the salt-vinegar solution seeped in the tiny gashes. Narine screamed out, knowing that it was impossible for so much pain to possibly exist. A second lash hit her before the first one had even died down. A third lash was quickly followed by a fourth, and Narine could only scream. Draconis halted after delivering number five.

After ten seconds, Narine felt she had the strength to open her clenched eyes, and looked at Draconis, who seemed to be studying her once more. His eyes were aimed at her crotch. Narine sobbed.

“Please…please, no more…”

“Then tell me where Faith is, Narine. All of your misery will be over as soon as you tell me where she is,” Draconis said on a friendly tone.

“She’s…she’s… International Peace Force… Australia…Lord-Howe Island…”

“Buffy! Willow!” Draconis barked. The two slave girls came running. “Cut her down, and lock her into your old room until I get back,” he ordered before walking out of the room, and disappearing into the armory.

“Robbie, full theoretical search. Fastest way to get to Lord-Howe. Money is no object. Report in War Room in ten contemporary minutes.”

“Acknowledged,” the metallic voice answered him. Draconis threw on a large black-leather trench coat that reached down to his ankles. He checked the inside pocket of the coat, and found the small vial he had prepared months earlier. It contained the solution to fight Slayers.

Then, Draconis started donning weaponry. His two normal weapons had never left his side. In addition to them and Skofnung, Draconis also put on a sheath for Faith’s sword. He then put on two more semi-automatic pistols in shoulder-holsters, as well as two full-automatic Uzis in assault slings, making them hang over his sides. He switched magazines on all weapons. Liquid-explosive-tipped armor-piercing rounds replaced the standard bullets in all weapons. Draconis was going to war, and he was playing to win.

He ended his preparations by strapping two special holsters to his ankles. On the outside of his legs, they contained a small gun. On the inside, a combat knife was available. Grinning evilly, Draconis righted himself.

His eyes burning with an amber-yellow glow of the nearing berserker rage, Draconis made his way to a large circular room in the technological North Wing. The center of the room was displaying a holographic map of the Pacific, and lines crisscrossed it, indicating airplane lines, boat lines, and even roads for automobiles.

A single red line stood out, and Robbie answered dutifully. “Fastest-route-theoretical-search. Fastest-route-by-personal-jet-and-parachuting. Retrieval-by-helicopter. Full-route is-available.”

“Time?” Draconis barked.

“ETC-is-two-hours,” the computer informed him.

“Arrange it. Get the helicopter to retrieve us one half hour after insertion.”

“Arrangements-made. Good-luck.”

Draconis strode out of the War Room, its lights dimming as he went. Be the time the door slid shut, the entire room as back to its dark, inert, state.

With a gaze that could melt iron, Draconis ran at full speed to the small speedboat docked next to the large yacht. Kicking in the double jet-drive, the boat roared off to Bonriki, flying half in and half above the water.

Draconis then ran to the super-bike that was waiting for him, jumped up, and roared off on the bike’s rear tire. Draconis jumped in the jet, its engines already revving up. The moment his belt closed, the jet was already halfway down the runway.

It took off, and Draconis could feel the shudder of his jet traveling on full afterburners. Draconis forced himself into a hypnotic state, calming his feelings. After doing so, he opened his seatbelt, and strapped on the parachute. All he could do now was wait.

“We’re nearing the drop-zone, sir,” the captain informed Draconis. “Good luck, sir.”

Draconis gave a curt nod, and walked to the door. At the signal, he threw it open, and the decompression set in, making the plane buck and swivel. With the wind blowing around his head, Draconis jumped from the plane, flying at mach2.

The blast would have been enough to kill any normal man. Draconis, however, was an Immortal, a thousand-year-old Immortal who had done many things, and whose body could do the impossible, if required.

Draconis spread his arms, slowing himself down. As the ocean approached him, Draconis pulled the string. The chute opened just in time to slow him down, but late enough so it wouldn’t be picked up by radar.

Cutting away his chute, Draconis swam, in full gear, to the island that was one kilometer away. Used to swimming longer distances, Draconis didn’t have much trouble, even with all the weapons hindering him.

He went out of the water on the other side of the island, and slowly made his way to the compound, done for both tactical reasons and for the tropical sun to dry him. Draconis leveled his two guns at the two guards next to the main gate of a big and ugly concrete building.

The bullets left silently. The guards exploded as the explosive-tipped rounds hit. Immediately, Draconis holstered his guns, threw open his coat, and drank the vial of Slayer-potion. Mystical strength washed over him, and Draconis charged the gates.

Thinking about testing him new strength, he ripped at the iron-bar gate with his bare hands. The metal twisted, then gave way, and Draconis threw it down. He drew Skofnung and DragonFire, and charged the main entrance to the concrete block that was supposed to be a building.

A bunker. Good thing, too… I doubt anything else would have held Faith. An Immortal Slayer with some added techniques is deadly.

The explosions had tipped off the people inside, and five guards came running, weapons drawn, thinking themselves ready to do battle with whoever was responsible. Draconis howled, making the guards stifle in surprise.

Skofnung flashed down, decapitating a first guard. DragonFire lashed out to the left, and gutted a second guard, while Skofnung returned to taste the blood of a third guard.

The two remaining guards found their presence of mind, and started shooting. Somehow, Draconis stayed alive after killing the last two guards. He could feel the half a dozen bullet wounds closing more rapidly than he had ever thought possible.

Neat… But there will be hell to pay after this. I can almost feel the potion sapping energy.

The massive iron door banged open as Draconis pulled it. Some more guards were inside, and they too, fell. Draconis was relentless. Sheathing the two swords, Draconis drew an Uzi, and racked the slide. He shot at everything that moved, the expensive bullets ripping through whatever protection, and exploding on contact with human flesh, just as they had been designed to do.

“Faith!” Draconis yelled. His instincts were in overdrive, and Draconis homed in on her Buzz. After the first two minutes, everyone knew to stay away from Draconis, and they did so with fear for their very lives.

Another small platoon of especially loyal guards made a stand outside the door Draconis thought lead to Faith’s room. Not bothering to look at the guards, Draconis drew his second Uzi, and mowed them down. They never got a shot off. Draconis ejected the clips, pushed in new ones, and racked the slides. Both submachine guns were fully loaded as he holstered them, took hold of the door’s handle, and lifted it away from its sockets.

“Faith!” Draconis yelled inside. Muffled grunts were his answer, and Draconis nodded as he disappeared into the half-darkness. The potion’s effects still running through his veins, Draconis’ eyes adjusted from full light to twilight in seconds.

Faith was sitting on an iron chair, tied to it with massive chains, her eyes were covered by a blindfold, and her mouth was gagged.

Still raging, Draconis ripped the chains, and tore off the blindfold and gag. “Okay?” he asked.

Grunting, Faith rubbed her wrists and ankles. “I will be,” she said, getting up, and nearly falling down again. Her legs had cramped up in the uncomfortable pose.

“What did they want, anyway?” Draconis asked curtly as he half-dragged Faith out the torn door.

Casting a surprised glance at the mangled door, Faith replied, “They wanted to know all about you. I think they were pissed because they ‘killed’ you, D-man.”

“Too bad for them. What did you tell?”

“Nothing,” Faith answered. “I’m not stupid, D-man!”

Draconis nodded, and shot a stray guard. Remembering something, he unclipped DragonFire from his belt, and held it out to Faith, who was once again walking under her own power.

“DragonFire!” Faith yelled. Quickly putting the sword on, she said, “Thanks, D-man! I appreciate it!”

“No problem,” Draconis grunted. “I couldn’t just leave it in Japan. Come on, we’re almost out of here.”

Making it outside without too much problems, the two Immortals soon jumped into a large military transport helicopter that touched down almost in the front yard.

Taking his satellite phone, Draconis dialed a number. “Package received. Shoot the messenger.”

Faith looked curiously at Draconis, who shrugged. “It’ll be leveled. No one kidnaps my student.” With that last statement, the potion wore off, and Draconis’ complexion grew ashen. His eyes closed, and he slumped over in his chair.

“D-man?” Faith asked, reaching over to touch her mentor. Satisfied that he was just in a deep sleep, Faith relaxed in her own seat, and closed her eyes. She had deserved some rest as well.

Faith’s sleep remained undisturbed until they reached Bonriki, hours later. Draconis’ rest, however, was far from peaceful, as he quite literally died from exhaustion. His Immortal nature kept reviving him, only to die once more, as his energy supply was still far below anything vaguely resembling normal. Draconis finally remained in the land of the living half an hour before they were to land.

Draconis still felt exhausted when he opened his eyes during the chopper’s touchdown. Immediately, the knowledge of Faith being alive slammed into his brain, and he was wide awake. Something inside him burned with the brute force of vengeance, and he gently woke Faith.

The couple stepped into the limo, and were taken to the berth of Draconis’ yacht. The boat took them to Draconis’ little island.

“Robbie, transfer all the money from Masaharu Niraku to my personal account, and take out a death warrant. I want him and the rest of his family killed. Then delete all records of Narine Igona. I want her to no longer exist.”

“Orders-confirmed. Account-plus-three-five-million-dollars-US. Narine-Igona-records-deleted.”

Draconis shrugged at the perfectly round figure of 35 million dollars, and turned to Faith. His fury was still contained. He had no idea for how long.

“Do you want to go to bed, or do you want to see the bitch responsible?” Draconis asked, a small measure of his anger seeping through into his voice.

“I dunno,” Faith replied honestly. “What are you planning to do to her?” Faith quite literally took a step back at the burning demonic flame she saw in Draconis’ eyes.

“The long forgotten arts of torture,” Draconis calmly said, a smile creeping onto his lips. Faith’s eyes went wide.

“Cool,” Faith muttered, letting Draconis lead the way to the basement. To both Immortals’ surprise, Willow and Buffy were sitting next to the door leading to Narine’s ‘bedroom’.

The two slave girls got up, and bowed. “Mistress Faith,” both said at the sight of her.

“Good to see I’m missed,” Faith replied playfully as Draconis opened the door.

Narine, tied to the sparse bed, opened her eyes at the noise. Since she had been gagged, her eyes had to do all the pleading. When she saw Faith, some sort of relief washed over her features, obviously thinking that her ordeal was over now.

Faith’s head snapped towards Draconis as he said with perfectly straight face, “I’m sorry you decided not to cooperate, Narine. I was lucky to have some contacts who could supply me with Faith’s location, as well as blueprints to the facility she was being kept in. Unfortunately, since you decided not to help, I am forced to punish you.”

Narine’s eyes opened wide, and she started screaming in her gag. Her head trashed from side to side, begging for leniency. Faith looked at the trashing woman, and smirked evilly. This was the bitch responsible, or she wouldn’t be here. Faith held no compassion for the piece of trash, and didn’t bother hiding it.

Not five minutes later, Narine was bound onto a table in the dungeon. Her hands were tied over her head, and her legs were tied apart on an X-shape, leaving her completely exposed and utterly helpless.

“Since the day is almost over, we’ll just start lightly,” Draconis said, walking back to the cabinet he had used earlier, and retrieved the normal cat-o-nine-tails. He walked back towards the table, leering at his helpless victim.

Faith stood to one side, enjoying the look of fear in Narine’s eyes as Draconis dragged the instrument over her exposed skin. Then, the cat cracked down on Narine’s left breast. While she was still screaming, the whip landed on her right breast. The scream intensified.

After twenty lashes to each breast, Narine’s throat felt raw from screaming. Only now, after those forty rapid strokes, was she able to catch her breath.

“No, please. No more…” Narine begged. Draconis smiled, and walked between her outspread legs. It was clear where he was aiming at. Indicating something to Faith, Draconis lifted the whip high above his head. He stopped himself, surprising both Narine and Faith.

Draconis withdrew something from a coat pocket, and both Narine and Faith recognized it: wax. Draconis walked to a small sink, and held the pot under a stream of boiling-hot water. This was not an ordinary sink, able to produce temperatures ranging from literally boiling hot to freezing cold. When Draconis was satisfied that the wax was warm enough, he walked back to his victim.

“First, we expose her,” he told Faith, and applied to hot wax to Narine’s crotch. After allowing it to cool, he yanked it off with a single jerk. Narine gasped, not expecting the pain to be this intense. Faith could see small droplets of blood on some of the pubic hair.

Draconis had done his thing masterly. Narine wasn’t burned, and had been shaved in a single application of the wax. He was now ready to proceed, and once more took the cat-o-nine-tails. He stood in front of Narine’s naked sex, and once more rose the whip over his head, ready to strike. Narine knew that it was for real this time.

“NO!” Narine screamed, even before the whip started its downward trajectory. She grunted in anticipation, and screwed her eyes shut as Draconis flung the cat down. The leather struck. Narine screamed, then fainted.

Faith turned on the hose Draconis had indicated, and the ice-cold water brought Narine back. Draconis smiled, and treated his awakening victim to the sight of him standing with the cat over his head, ready to strike once more. Narine screamed, and the whip struck once again. This time, Narine didn’t pass out.

Draconis lashed the oriental woman twenty times on her vagina, making her pass out multiple times. Each time, Faith opened the hose, enjoying her part in the spectacle. There was something oddly satisfying in hurting this bitch. Finally, after twenty lashes, Narine passed out, and Draconis stopped Faith form awakening her.

“We’ll continue tomorrow. This will go on for days if we play it right, and we can’t risk losing her,” Draconis said, releasing the bonds, and dragging the unconscious body to her room. He threw her on the rough bed, and tied her down. Faith nodded in understanding, and followed Draconis.

That evening, Faith found out that she wasn’t the only one capable of inhaling food. Draconis showed her just how much the potion had demanded of him by devouring two boars, a side of beef the size of Texas, and three stuffed partridges. He drank horn after horn of mead.

Finally, Faith stumbled into her bed, Draconis stumbling in right behind her. Feeling oddly warmed to this show of affection, Faith fell asleep within seconds. Draconis just fell asleep because he was drunk, and dead tired from the potion.

 

The next day, Faith and Draconis had a late extended breakfast, and didn’t rush on their way down to see Narine. Draconis forced some IV food into her veins, then untied her and brought her to the dungeon.

“Today’s session will be a little harder than yesterday’s,” Draconis told Narine. Turning to Faith, he said, “the object is to work up in pain and damage, enabling the subject to get used to ever increasing amounts of pain before passing out.”

Faith nodded in understanding, and Draconis walked to a second cabinet. He started by unlocking a first lock by means of a key. The next lock was a combination lock, and Draconis spun the dial in rapid succession. The double doors of the cabinet swung open, and Draconis pulled out a small trolley, and brought it closer into Narine’s view.

The first thing he did was turn on a small Bunsen burner, and hold a long, thin needle into the flame by means of a pair of pliers. Turning the needle so it would heat evenly, Draconis smiled at Narine, obviously enjoying the sheer look of utter panic rising into his victim’s eyes. Faith shook her head at her mentor’s deviousness.

Knowing what to do with the heated needle, Draconis started at the obvious places. First he used it on Narine’s armpits, causing the Japanese woman to grunt. She would not give them the satisfaction of screaming. After switching armpits, Draconis heated the needle once again, drawing more looks of fear from Narine.

“As you no doubt witnessed,” Draconis said on his lecturing tone, “The needle does not leave any markings, yet causes great pain in the subject. The temperature prevents bleeding, and causes pain at the same time.” Dropping the teacher-mode, he turned to Faith, and said with an evil grin, “This is how I got most confessions during my Inquisition days.”

“I believe you, D-man. It looks painful just from its glow,” Faith replied sincerely.

Draconis nodded while looking at the glowing reddish-orange tip of the needle. Shrugging, he gently took Narine’s lovely belly-button between two fingers, and squeezed it gently. The belly-button rose at the manipulations, and Draconis pushed the searing needle through it with his free hand. Then he released his hold. The belly-button returned, forcing the searing needle in all kinds of positions.

Narine screamed loudly, her cries of pain ricocheting off the walls of the dungeon. Faith shook her head at Draconis’ manipulations of the human pain receptive system. If she hadn’t already been convinced, now she really knew that she shouldn’t try and go up against Draconis.

Next came the back of Narine’s knees, some pain-points in her feet, and then, finally, the oriental woman’s breasts. Seeing the needle approaching Narine’s breast, Faith winced, and braced herself against the scream she knew was to come.

Draconis artfully drove the instrument through the left nipple. Narine howled in pain. Jerking the needle out of the cauterized wound, Draconis jammed it in the right nipple, then left it there. Narine screamed, her scream dying down slowly. Finally, her scream was replaced by a pain-wrecked sobbing, and Draconis withdrew the now cold needle.

Since it had cooled down, the needle no longer slid as easily as it used to. The hot metal had burned to Narine’s flesh, and Draconis was now jerking it loose once more. Narine felt as if her entire nipple was coming off, which, in fact, it didn’t.

Draconis re-heated the needle, before finalizing the session by manipulating the woman’s breasts. Each time, Narine cried in wrecked sobs as Draconis knew which nerves to hit.

Allowing Narine to rest for a bit, Draconis pulled up the Iv stand, and forced the needle into Narine’s veins. He wanted his subject alive, not half-dead from hunger or thirst. This would keep her alive without damaging her.

Together with Faith, the millennium-old-Immortal went back upstairs, to enjoy a small and light lunch, artfully prepared by Buffy, and served merrily by Willow.

“Enjoy your new room?” Draconis asked Willow as she put down the trays.

“Yes, Master! We enjoy it very much! Thank you so much, Master!” Willow replied exuberantly. There was not a single tone of sarcasm in her voice, just sheer joy. It was then that Draconis knew that Willow too had been conditioned. Both the Slayer and the witch would follow him and Faith to the end of the world, and beyond.

Sending Willow away to enjoy her own lunch, Draconis and Faith chatted lightly about all kinds of subjects. All, except one: the woman in the dungeon. Draconis was more than happy to share some amusing anecdotes about his Inquisition days. Faith listened attentively, enjoying the stories of so long ago.

After lunch, the two Immortals went back to the dungeon, removed the IV bag, and Draconis pushed the trolley back into the cabinet. Narine visibly shook with relief as the needle and still-burning Bunsen burner disappeared. Draconis returned with something else.

“This, my dear, is a small cattle prod. Produces a nasty shock on the human system,” he explained, holding the nasty-looking device in front of Narine’s fearful eyes.

Turning it on, Draconis held the now humming device close to Narine’s side. He pressed a button. Narine’s body jerked as a bluish electric spark lunged for her tender left side. Screaming at the top of her lungs, Narine strained with all her might against the bonds that held her secured to the table.

Draconis laughed merrily at Narine’s scream, and ran the humming device over the pitifully sobbing woman’s body.

“Please, no more! I’ll do anything! Please! Have mercy!” Narine started to beg. Draconis smiled, and pressed the button. A spark leapt for Narine’s left foot. Keeping the button pressed, he ran the device all over Narine’s unprotected sole and her supple toes, making the limb jerk and spasm with the electricity running through it.

“Please! NAAAH!” Narine begged as yet another spark hit her. Her screams echoed through the room when Draconis lifted the device away from Narine’s left foot. He calmly walked to her other foot.

“NO!! Please! I’ll tell you anything you want to know! I’ll do anything for you! Please! Just no more!!” Narine begged, her resistance scattered in a wind of burning agony.

“But there isn’t anything I don’t want to know from you, Narine,” Draconis admonished. He pressed the button, and Narine’s screaming resumed.

Lifting the device once again, Narine breathed heavily under the lingering agony. Her sobs were interrupted when her teared-up eyes noticed Draconis approaching her right breast.

“Oh, God! Please, NO! Please…”

“God,” Draconis repeated, smiling to himself. Shooting an amused look at Faith before turning back to his victim, he said, “Yes. I am your God now. And I say that you will die the most horrible deaths as punishment for your treachery.”

Narine sobbed in anticipation of pain when Draconis once more put the prod next to her right breast. When he pushed the trigger, Narine felt as if she were being eaten alive by sheer pain. Her nerves felt ablaze, and the pain was so intense it felt as if it were tearing her to very tiny pieces.

Draconis paid very close attention to Narine’s breasts, and especially close attention to her nipples. Finally, he lifted, and Narine let the residual pain flow from her body. Her throat felt raw, and she didn’t know whether she had the strength to scream anymore. With a hoarse voice, she pleaded for leniency.

She pleaded harder when Draconis tweaked her clitoris with the humming prod. “No! Please! Oh, my God! I can’t stand any more! Please, no!!!”

“Prepare for pain,” Draconis simply stated as he pressed the button. Narine’s mouth opened, and for half a second, no sound came out. Then, a scream of such sheer agony erupted that it sent shivers down Faith’s spine. She looked at Draconis, and saw that he was thoroughly enjoying himself. Narine mercifully passed out, and Draconis removed the prod.

When faith wanted to awaken Narine with her hose, Draconis stopped her. “We’ll go to the next phase,” he said, putting the prod back in the cabinet. He pulled up a cart. “We will need to make some changes to her position,” Draconis said as he released Narine’s hands.

Faith watched in amazement as Draconis pushed the two legs-holdings of the table together, before pulling out two more extensions, making the table look like a T. he strapped Narine’s hands to the vertical extensions, enabling the miserably woman to be able to look at her hands, which were being tied flat to the table.

“What are you planning, D-man?” Faith asked in wonder. Draconis shot her an amused grin. This was the most fun he had had in centuries. Not since the Inquisition was he allowed such… freedom.

“You’ll see, Hon,” Draconis replied. “I have some very special electro-torture planned, and I’ll even use some stuff I built myself. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like fun,” Faith replied.

“You can wake her now,” Draconis said, standing in Narine’s view. Faith nodded, aimed the hose, and turned it on. The icy cold water brought Narine back instantly.

“Welcome back,” Draconis said sarcastically. Lifting a needle from the cart, he held it in front of Narine’s terrified eyes. “You know what I’m going to do with this?” he asked.

Narine fearfully shook her head. Draconis smiled, and answered his own question, “It’s very easy, really. I’ll even show you.”

Narine’s eyes opened wide, and she began to beg anew. “No! Please…oh no! No! please!”

Draconis shrugged. “Fine. I’ll just start the torture, then.” With those words, he walked to her left hand, held her middle finger firmly, and gently started wiggling the needle in under her fingernail. Narine screamed out her begging sobs. After her middle finger came her ring-finger, followed by her index-finger. As Draconis let go of her hand, Narine started wiggling her fingers, sending spasms of renewed pain through her body.

“I wouldn’t wiggle too much if I were you,” Draconis said, pushing the cart around to the other side of the table. “It hurts,” he explained, as if causing her discomfort was the last thing on his mind. Narine stopped wiggling her tortured left hand. She looked scared to death at Draconis, who was now calmly looking over the needles left on his cart.

The psychological torture was intense as Narine was forced to wait for what she knew was coming: Draconis would do the same to her right hand as he did to her left. Or he would do worse… he could do it to all five of her fingers. Or he could heat the needles as he did when he tortured her before. Or… Narine’s mind came up with ever-present more painful things Draconis could do to her right hand.

Finally, Draconis took her middle finger, and Narine almost felt relieved when he started with the needle on her nail. Of course, her relief ended when the intense pain flooded her senses, and she cried out once more.

Finally, her right hand had been prepared. When she saw Draconis push the cart down to her feet, Narine started wailing. “Have mercy! Please! No! Have mercy!”

Draconis smiled at her, grabbed her left foot, and wiggled a needle under the nail of her small toe. Narine’s begs were lost in a sea of cries as Draconis pushed the icy needle in deeper. Draconis, undisturbed, inserted a needle under each toenail. It took him ten minutes, one minute for each nail. Narine’s cries filled the room almost continuously.

Faith was amazed at her mentor’s skill with these practices. She could see him slacking off every now and then, to allow his victim to breathe. Faith more or less understood that, if he didn’t, Narine would scream until she had no more air, and she could die of suffocation.

After inserting the needles, Draconis removed the top tray of the cart, and pulled up the second tray, so Narine could see what was on it. It sported a strange machine, as well as a dozen or so longer needles. Narine sobbed, already thinking of horrible things Draconis could do with those.

Draconis took one of the thin, long needles, and approached her shoulder. Knowing just where to push, Draconis inserted the needle. Since it was of normal temperature, Narine hardly felt it. Then, she felt it enter some region of her shoulder it shouldn’t. Well, not normally. Then, her body jerked as the needle struck the nerve.

Walking to the other side of the table, Draconis inserted a needle in her other shoulder, extracting the same results from Narine’s body. The needle jolted her nerves, jerking her muscles with them.

Draconis then walked to the bottom of the table, and gently caressed Narine’s legs. He grabbed hold of her left knee, and inserted the needle. Narine grunted as both her knees were pierced, the nerves struck by the long needles. However, she found the pain to be mild compared to what she had experienced before.

Draconis retrieved more needles, and Narine grunted. The next wave went into her armpits, her thighs, her ankles, and in her hips. The last wave went into Narine’s nipples, her breasts, and, to her horror, in her clit. That one hurt enough to extract a cry from the over-tortured woman. Her pain threshold was increasing, just as Draconis had thought it would.

“Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Draconis asked Narine, who now looked like an over-sized pincushion. As Narine stared defiantly at him, Draconis smiled, and pulled up the cart, once more displaying it into her field of vision. To her horror, Draconis opened a small flap at the back of the machine, retrieving wires from it. When he started connecting the wires to the needles, Narine whimpered as the needles were jerked around in her sensitive areas, be they nail pads or nerves.

Finally, Draconis finished his task of wiring up Narine. He flipped a switch on the machine, and it started to hum.

“This is one of my own inventions,” Draconis said, affectionately running his hand over the device. “It can do anything I ask it to do.”

Narine looked at Draconis, once more begging for leniency. Draconis pushed a couple of buttons, and clicked a rotation switch to it first stand.

“First level,” Draconis said, and stepped back. The machine started sending electricity through the needles, each in turn. Narine jerked with small cries at time the machine jerked her. Draconis pushed yet another button, and the machine started shocking in a random order. Narine really screamed now, as she was no longer able to determine which needle was to be shocked next. What was worse, the machine started waiting at random intervals as well. Narine was now forced to think that the torture might be over at certain times.

Draconis smiled, and gave a jerk on the rotation switch. The intensity of the electric shocks increased tenfold, and Narine screamed at the top of her lungs each time a needle was shocked.

“This is the first mode,” Draconis explained to Faith, who was looking in horrid fascination as Narine’s body jerked and spasmed on the table. Her screams made Draconis hard to understand, and she walked over next to him.

“There is a second mode,” Draconis said, pointing at a button. “Watch this. It’s really good. It should lift her off the table,” he said with a full smile on his face. Draconis was really enjoying himself.

Faith watched as Draconis pushed the button. Instead of shocking one needle, the machine now put a continuous shock on every needle. True to Draconis’ word, Narine’s body seemed to lift off the table as her back tried to arch, and every muscle in her body tensed up against the strong bonds securing her to the table. Narine’s scream was deafening, almost non-human in nature.

Narine felt as if there was nothing but the pain, it consumed her every thought. Every breath was sheer agony, every heartbeat caused pain. Her eyes opened and closed in turns, yet her eyes didn’t see anything but bright red agony.

Draconis stopped the machine, clicked the big knob, and waited for a few seconds. Narine, bathing in her pain-sweat, calmed down. It was obvious the woman was thinking the session was over. Then Draconis flipped the switch, and Faith winced at the shocked look and ditto scream. Narine had been caught totally off-guard.

“Third mode,” Draconis said. “The machine will stop at random intervals for a random amount of time, while it will increases the shock.”

“Damn. How long can she stand this?” Faith asked.

Draconis shrugged. Narine fainted, and the machine cut off automatically. Faith’s eyes opened wide.

“The machine will cut off, and will start over when she reawakens. Spray her, Faith. Let’s test that part of it.”

Faith shrugged, and sprayed. Narine startled awake, and the machine shocked her not a second later.

“Isn’t it dangerous?” Faith shouted over Narine’s screams of terror and agony.

“Nah!” Draconis shouted back. “There’s not enough power for anything to be damaged. It just hurts like hell, but doesn’t damage any tissues!”

Faith shook her head. Her mentor was one devious bastard, and she knew it. Narine’s torture wasn’t over yet when Draconis turned off the electricity. 

“Now, wasn’t that fun?” Draconis asked the panting woman. Narine gathered all her strength, little that it was, and spat in Draconis’ direction.

“Bastard!” she croaked.

Draconis laughed out loud, a really deep, guttural laugh. “I like a bitch with spirit!” he bellowed, amicably slapping Narine on the shoulder. Of course, he slapped around the needle, jolting it, and causing pain to Narine. “Now, let’s see what else this machine can do, shall we?” Turning to Faith, he said, “Of course, since I designed and built the thing, I know what it can do. But you don’t.”

Faith smiled, interested in what Draconis had planned next. He reached for yet another button, pressed it, and the machine’s hum changed in pitch. The hum became a whine. Draconis spun the dial to its maximum setting, and Faith’s eyes went wide. Narine didn’t seem to be in pain. Yet, Faith’s mind added.

Then, the horrific actions of the machine became visible. The wires were heating the needles! How Draconis accomplished this, Faith didn’t know, but the actions were very clear! The needles were turning orange in color, and the horrific screams of pure agony were supplemented by the smell of burning flesh.

Narine didn’t last long before passing out, and Draconis switched off the machine. “It’s been enough,” he said. “I don’t want to torture her nails too much… I have some other things in mind for them, just like her breasts and her clit. Let’s put her in her cage, so she can recuperate.”

Faith nodded in agreement, and helped Draconis remove the needles from Narine’s body. An act neither of them did with much gentleness. Narine was once more strapped down on her bed, and the bag of IV food was reinserted. The door was locked. Narine opened her eyes, and whimpered. Somehow, Draconis’ words had registered to her numb brain. …I have some other things in mind for them, just like her breasts and her clit…

When Draconis opened the door the next morning, Narine was already beginning to feel pain just from seeing him. He released her from the bed after removing the IV, and dragged her to the dungeon. Narine pleaded and cried the entire way. Draconis heeded no attention to her calls.

Finally, she was in the dungeon, and Draconis had her strapped down. Her body was exhausted because of the intense torture of the last few days, so Narine was unable to put up much of a fight. Today, Draconis walked to the third cabinet. Already, the implications sank in when Narine saw him, and she began to whimper.

Faith shook her head in amusement at the psychological torture, and silently complimented her mentor on his tactics. Indeed, the entire dungeon had been laid out just perfect, allowing Narine to see most of what was happening, while allowing enough room to hide things Draconis wanted to hide.

Draconis returned with a small soldering iron. “Fell this,” he said, pressing it against Narine’s cheek. Narine shrieked, and pulled her head away in sheer terror.

“Oops. I guess I forgot to plug it in,” Draconis said sarcastically, plugging the small device into a wall socket. Faith burst out laughing at Narine’s terror of a cold soldering iron. Draconis smiled as well, his eyes glistening in amusement. Narine was far from amused, now that she could see the iron warming in front of her eyes.

“It’s warming, my dear. Can you see it? Can you see this little device that is about to burn your lovely skin?” Draconis taunted.

“Please… please, don’t! please, just let me be… I promise I won’t do anything against you ever again! I’ll do everything you want! I’ll…I’ll…” Narine fell silent when the words eluded her tortured mind.

“Unfortunately, I already have two girls waiting to do my bidding. Now, let’s see if it’s hot enough,” Draconis said, smirking. He pressed the hot iron against her cheek. Narine jerked her head away, giving a small cry as the hot iron lost contact with her skin.

“Not hot enough,” Draconis concluded. “It should have stuck to your skin,” he explained to the woman, who started her begging once again. Draconis silenced her by pressing the now hot enough iron against her cheek. Narine jerked her head away once again. This time, just as he had promised, her skin stuck to the hot iron as if it had been glued to it. The jerk of her head ripped off a small piece of skin.

Narine screamed louder than she had ever screamed before, and Faith winced at the volume of the sound. Draconis seemed undisturbed, and Faith wondered how much experience he would have to ignore volumes like this.

Next came Narine’s armpits, followed by the insides of her lovely belly button. When Draconis gently tweaked her nipples, Narine begged him not to do it. Draconis was relentless. The hot iron hit the pitifully crying woman’s hardened nipples. Narine’s screams were hardly resembling human now.

Now that the torture was beginning to do physical damage, Faith paid extra attention. She had no idea how far Draconis would go, but she was determined to find out just how far he would, and could, go.

When Draconis approached her defenseless foot, Narine whimpered. Faith drew in a breath, anxious to see what would happen. Draconis roughly grabbed Narine’s foot, and his cold eyes drilled into hers. Narine tried unsuccessfully to wiggle her foot out of Draconis’ grip.

Draconis held fast, and brought up the soldering iron. He inserted the small iron under the nail of Narine’s big toe. As soon as the heat hit the sensitive pad, Narine gave out her most ear-shattering scream yet. Faith watched in horrid fascination as the smell of burned flesh was coupled to the sight of the nail turning a sickly brown. Then the pain overwhelmed Narine, and she mercifully passed out.

Faith woke her soon after, and Narine wondered why Draconis was no longer holding the soldering iron. Just then, he dangled something in front of her eyes, and Narine’s eyes went wide. She knew better than to scream now.

“A smart bitch, aren’t you?” Draconis asked teasingly, and nodded to Faith. The Slayer pounced on the woman, grabbed her head, and held it incapacitated. Draconis pressed on her cheeks, forcing Narine to open her mouth.

Wiggling his fingers inside, Draconis hurriedly pulled them out after Narine almost bit them off. It was surprising she had so much strength left. “Buffy!” Draconis barked. The blonde Slayer came running.

“Yes, Master?” Buffy asked.

“Help me with this bitch. We need to open her mouth.”

“Gladly, Master,” Buffy replied, and pounced the woman in a matter that was so similar to Faith that it gave Narine the creeps. It sent jolts of pleasure down Draconis’ spine to see his two Slayers working together. Smiling affectionately, he grabbed Narine’s mouth once more.

“This time, we will do this right, dear,” Draconis said, roughly grabbing Narine’s mouth. Buffy pulled on Narine’s lower jaw, and she would have torn it off if Draconis hadn’t told her to ease up a little. Not because it would have hurt or maimed Narine, but because he would have been stopped from hearing her screams.

Narine struggled, and it surprised the two Slayers to know how much noise a human could generate without the use of a mouth. Then, Draconis used the small device he had displayed. The dentist drill whirred into life. Narine gurgled, and struggled against her bonds, her head completely immobilized by two Slayers and an Immortal hanging from it.

“Here we go, dear,” Draconis said, pressing the drill against one of Narine’s perfectly white teeth. Steam rose as the drill did its work, yet Narine felt no pain for as long as the drill was in the outer layers of the tooth. But then…then it struck the nerve, and Draconis eased up on the pressure, letting the drill just hurt the nerve. Again, the two Slayers were amazed at the volume Narine generated. Again, the woman passed out.

Her jaw sore, Narine awoke under the cold stream of water coming from Faith’s hose.

“Next phase,” Draconis said, producing both the hot soldering iron and the prod from yesterday. Spreading her legs, Draconis’ target became clear to the Asian woman, and she once more started begging.

Working the prod and the iron on her already tortured vagina, Draconis savored the throaty screams the woman generated.

Narine lay panting, sweat running down her body. When she felt Draconis do something between her legs, she grunted in strain as she opened her eyes. He had pushed her ass-cheeks apart, and was holding just the prod now. He brutally inserted it in Narine’s ass.

“No! Please!” Narine begged hoarsely, her throat almost completely gone now. Then Draconis pushed the button, and Narine seemed to explode. Draconis held her on the verge of passing out, easing up on the shocks only to allow Narine to recover slightly before continuing. Narine screamed, begged, and screamed more. Her life was nothing more than pain, agony, and more pain now. Finally, Draconis allowed Narine to pass out.

“Normally, I would draw this out a little more,” Draconis explained. “I would have raped her cunt and ass. But this bitch isn’t worth it. We’ll just go with some other stuff this afternoon, and the really interesting parts start tomorrow.”

Faith’s eyes opened in anticipation, thinking about what Draconis could have meant by ‘interesting parts’.

After a satisfying lunch, Draconis and Faith once more joined Narine in the dungeon. Draconis removed the IV bag. “I hope you enjoyed your lunch as much as we did,” Draconis asked with a smile.

Narine didn’t reply, just watched him as he removed an old-fashioned metal syringe from the cabinet. “This is filled with fluorine-sulfuric acid, one of the most ferocious mineral acids known to man,” Draconis said, demonstrating by letting a drop of the liquid fall out of the needle. It burned and sizzled when it hit the table, right next to Narine’s body. She could feel the heat and the tingle of the steam that rose from the contact point.

“Imagine what it will do to your lovely body,” Draconis taunted. As a demonstration, he slid the needle into Narine’s arm. Not very deep, just to touch the sensitive nerves running under the epidermis. A single drop of acid was pushed through the needle, and Draconis withdrew the syringe immediately as Narine started screaming and trashing about.

“Wicked,” Faith muttered at the woman’s reaction. Still in the throes of agony, Narine didn’t see Draconis approach her foot. He grabbed it roughly, and held it immobilized. When Narine calmed down, and saw Draconis standing there, holding her right foot, she begged.

Draconis inserted the needle under the nail of the toe right next to Narine’s little toe. The woman grunted in pain as the small needle slid under the nail. Draconis pushed some acid under it.

The reaction was as ferocious as it was gruesome. Blood and pus sprang from under it, giving the nail a horrible brown-black color with all the damage the acid did to the body.

“You missed her small toe,” Faith whispered in Draconis’ ear. “Intentionally?”

Draconis smiled, and turned to Narine. “My charge brought up a good point. There’s no sense in me forgetting about your little toe, now is there?” With those words, he inserted the needle under the toenail, and pushed a drop of acid under it.

Narine screamed and trashed in sheer agony when the nail color brown, then black, with blood and pus. After a couple of seconds, it actually fell out, the wound bleeding ferociously.

To prevent too much blood loss, Draconis took a hot iron, and cauterized the wound. Narine’s back arched as she screamed in agony.

“Damn,” Faith grunted, reawakening Narine with the cold water from her hose.

Smiling wickedly, Draconis inserted a couple of drops of acid under the other three nails, and stood back. Both Immortals watched as Narine’s toes oozed near-black fluids, before the nails fell out, and Draconis took pity by cauterizing Narine’s wounds. Faith ended up reviving her after each nail had been removed.

Narine was relieved when Draconis put the syringe away, relieved that her other foot escaped such treatment. Little did she know what Draconis was planning on doing next. Taking a pair of pliers, he walked back to Narine’s already tortured foot.

Grabbing it in his free hand, Narine trashed and screamed, begging Draconis to ease up on her. Draconis heeded to attention to her call. Gripping her small toe win the pliers, he jerked. The toe broke with a horrible snap, and Narine cried out in both psychological as physical pain. She was now being mutilated, and powerless to stop it. The very emotion of powerlessness was one of the most intense psychological tortures a human being could endure.

One by one, Draconis broke Narine’s toes, the very pain of breaking her big toe overwhelmed Narine, and she once again passed out. When Faith wanted to revive her, Draconis held up his hand.

“I’m not really in the mood this afternoon,” Draconis said. “Let’s give her the rest of the day off. I’m sure she can use some recuperation time.”

Faith shrugged, and Draconis inserted the IV bag, and slipped in some powerful painkillers, knocking Narine out, and ensuring she would get plenty of rest. Instead of taking her back to her room, Draconis and Faith just turned off the lights, and left the miserable woman in the dungeon.

The next morning, Faith was astonished when Draconis didn’t retrieve Narine. Instead, he untied her, and walked to the weapons room nearby. He retrieved a huge two handed battle-axe, the kind Faith always imagine a Viking to use: a huge solid oak beam supporting two massive half-circle shaped Viking steel blades, reaching from the top to halfway down the handle. Faith thought the axe to weigh at least 50 kilos, if not more.

“You brought DragonFire?” Draconis asked. When Faith nodded, Draconis smiled, and showed her back upstairs. Faith was mystified. What would Draconis need with this axe, or with DragonFire for that matter?

“We’ll have a sparring session,” Draconis said, brandishing the huge axe in one hand. Faith’s mouth opened at the sight of Draconis wielding the huge weapon in one hand.

“But… Narine?” Faith asked.

“She’ll awaken. Then we’ll see what happens, or how bad she wants to live.”

Faith’s eyes glistened. “You… you evil man! You’re letting her think she can walk out! With her toenail removed, and all her toes broken! And when she gets up here…”

“She’ll see us fighting. You will be the top of speed and grace, avoiding my friend here,” Draconis said, holding up the axe. “And I’ll be the epiphany of power and strength. It should mutilate her mind as well as her body.”

Faith shook her head in total amusement, taking a combat stance in the large hallway, not far from the doorway leading into the basement. Draconis just held up the huge axe in his right hand. He started chopping at her, the blade actually moving to hurt Faith, if she didn’t have her Slayer speed to count on. She felt the rush of adrenalin flowing through her body. Draconis actually had the strength to wield the weapon in one hand, and she knew that he had the strength to cut her in half if he hit her. Faith was well motivated.

Narine awoke in the dungeon, and rubbed her forehead. “My head…” she croaked. Then, she remembered: she was rubbing her head!

Hissing in pain, Narine sat upright, under her own power, for the first time in days. Her right foot hurt like hell, and Narine carefully put her left foot on the ground. Although the toes on that foot had been shocked, they hadn’t been tortured that much. The foot hurt, but she could stand on it.

Balancing herself on her left foot, Narine clenched her teeth and hissed in pain as she hopped to the door. Every hop sent jolts of humongous pain through her body. There was not a doubt in her mind that, if she didn’t get out of here now, she wouldn’t survive. Draconis was insane, and she needed to tell her superiors about it. No doubt they already knew, seeing that Faith was back, but Narine felt she needed to get the point across personally.

She had given up hope of rescue, but not hope of escape. This was her chance, and Narine pushed on the handle of the dungeon door. The heavy door swung open, and Narine hopped into the hall. Once more, tears sprang to her eyes at the pain in her right foot. Clenching her teeth and forcing the pain out, Narine made her way to the stairs.

Now came the hard part. Supporting herself on both handrails, Narine hopped up the first step. She winced in pain at the jolt. She couldn’t move the foot the least, or pain shot through her. The steps of the staircase were worse than just moving.

Finally, Narine made it to the top of the stairs. She guessed it must have cost her at least five minutes to get up the staircase, and she counted herself lucky that no one had come for her.

Then, she pushed open the door, and saw Draconis wielding the biggest and meanest-looking bastard of a battle-axe Narine had ever seen. What was worse: he was using it in one hand, and he was chopping away at his students as if the end of the world was stalking him.

Narine watched for a few seconds, unable to move in fright at the sight of her tormentor. Narine’s mind had shut down, he body frozen in instinctive fear.

As Draconis chopped to the left, Faith dogged under it, and went after his unprotected side with DragonFire. She knew better than to try and block the huge beast. It would shatter her blade as if it were nothing. Again, Draconis was faster than lighting in returning the axe, and Faith found her access cut off.

Then, the sparring match ended as fast as it had begun, both finding Narine standing there, frozen like a deer staring into headlights of an oncoming car.

Narine started crying as Draconis approached her. “Please… please…” Narine begged. “Please, kill me. Just kill me, and get things over with.”

Draconis displayed the smile he always gave the Japanese woman. “Just kill you? Where’s the fun in that?” he asked joyfully. “And with all the goodies I have planned for you today…”

With that, his face turned cold again, and he grabbed Narine under one arm. He didn’t listen to the woman whimpering as each jolt shook her injured foot. First, Draconis returned the axe, making Narine see everything in the vaulted room. Now she knew she would die… there was no way Draconis would let her live with all this knowledge.

Draconis strapped her back onto her table, Narine just a shell of her former existence now, and offering no resistance whatsoever. Her life was nothing but pain and agony.

The first thing Draconis did was open the fourth cabinet. “Robbie, open final cabinet, authorization Draconis.”

Narine whimpered as a dry chunk of retracting latches was followed by the sound of two metal doors scraping on a concrete floor. Draconis retrieved a cart, and rolled it next to Narine. This cart was designed so the woman couldn’t see what was on it.

Draconis took a syringe, and emptied it into the Japanese woman’s bloodstream.

“It’s a stimulant. It’ll keep her awake for longer,” Draconis told Faith. Narine was still bound in the form of the letter T, her hands flat on the table.

Draconis went back into the cabinet, and retrieved a stand. It held up a bowl with red-hot coals, and Narine could feel the heat emanating from it. That’s when she saw a huge iron sticking out of the coals.

Draconis pulled it out. The tip of the iron glowed orange. Narine begged for leniency, to no avail. Draconis first burnt Narine’s armpit, causing her to cry out as the burning continued. Then Draconis burnt Narine’s cheek, before going after her thighs. She was burned a multitude of times on both her thighs, causing Narine to scream, her back arched. Faith wrinkled her nose at the putrid smell of burnt flesh.

Then he grabbed Narine’s left breast, and squeezed it. Her nipple came to attention, and Narine’s begs became louder and more incessant than ever before as Draconis brought in the poker.

“NO! Please! Noaaaaa!!!” Narine screamed as Draconis burnt the tip of her sensitive nipple. When he leaned over her body and started his ministrations on her other nipple, Narine begged once more, to no avail. Draconis burnt the tip of her other nipple as well, causing Narine to arch her back in pain. This, of course, was not the smartest thing to happen, as it pressed her breast harder into the poker.

Narine couldn’t believe she was still conscious as Draconis removed the poker and she lay panting. Her throat was raw and dry, and she didn’t feel like she had the strength to scream anymore. Of course, the reason she was still conscious was the stimulant working its magic on her.

Draconis put the poker back in the hot coals, and Narine whimpered. Then, Draconis returned with a small scalpel, and dangled it in front of Narine’s eyes.

“Wha… what are you going to do with that?” the miserable woman whimpered.

“Lots of fun,” Draconis replied, and went to her outstretched hand. “Make her watch,” he told Faith. The Immortal slayer shrugged, walked over, and grabbed Narine’s head, turning it in Draconis’ direction.

Draconis grabbed her hand, making sure to immobilize the poor woman’s thumb. With a pair of pliers slowly removed her fingernail. Narine wailed as the nail was removed, but the pain wasn’t as bad as the rest she had endured. She was beginning to think this might not be so bad when Draconis made an incision at the base of her thumb, followed by an incision running from the base of her thumb all the way over the top, to the other side of the incision at the base of her thumb. Again, the pain wasn’t too bad.

Then, with the pliers, Draconis grabbed the skin, and peeled it off. Now Narine screamed wholeheartedly, the pain reaching new levels as her thumb was skinned, and blood poured freely.

Taking a knife, Draconis the started to scrape away at the flesh still on the thumb, and Narine’s screams only vaguely resembled anything human as she went mad in agony. Her entire life was pain and misery.

As the bone and joint of the thumb became visible, Draconis took a clipper, and snipped the digit off at the center joint. As Narine trashed and screamed hoarsely, Draconis cauterized the wound with the poker. Narine’s pitiful scream grew louder still, before the pain overcame the stimulant’s power, and she passed out.

Faith awoke Narine with her hose, and once more forced the miserable woman to watch as Draconis now went to work on the base of the finger, exposing the joint linking it to her hand. He clipped it off as well, once more cauterizing the wound.

Pushing the tray to the other side, Draconis grabbed Narine’s left hand. Faith forced the woman’s head in the new direction, and held it there. Draconis grabbed the pinky. Faith swallowed a couple of times, the sight of the mutilations putting her off-balance. Faith shrugged the discomfort away. This was not a time to become giddy.

Narine whimpered hoarsely when she felt Draconis’ hand on her pinky. And when he took the pliers, she started begging once more. “Please, no! Please! I beg of you! Please!”

Draconis didn’t listen, and simply removed the fingernail. Narine wailed and trashed, before she felt the cold steel of the scalpel slice away at her skin. And then she felt her pinky being skinned. Narine screamed and trashed in agony, her entire body consumed in the hot, stabbing pain of the skin being torn off.

Draconis relished in the woman’s pinky, knowing that he had now three joints to work on instead of just two. Narine seemed to know the same thing as she trashed about. After he had removed the pinky and thumb of Narine’s left hand, Draconis seemed satisfied, and Narine was allowed to rest for a little while. Pain-sweat ran down her body, and she panted to recover her breath. Her eyes stared un-seeing into space.

“She’s going, and she’s going fast,” Draconis said as the two of them walked upstairs for lunch. “We’ll finish it this afternoon.”

“There won’t be much left of her, will there?” Faith asked.

Draconis shrugged. “It depends. I had to inject her with the second-level stimulant to keep her awake while I removed her fingers, and even then she passed out plenty. The third-level might not work…we’ll just have to see what happens this afternoon.”

After lunch, Draconis injected her with a second dose of the stimulant, and he took his pliers. Wanting to get things over with, he grabbed the woman’s mutilated right hand. He tore off the nails of the four remaining fingers there. Narine screamed louder. For her, it was impossible to comprehend how this was possible. Every time she thought she had reached a peak where there could be no more pain, but every time there was more, and she would reach a new peak, where there would be more pain waiting for her. Narine screamed and cried, her voice almost gone now.

After removing her nails, Draconis took the index finger itself in his pliers, and pulled it backwards until the bone snapped. Narine screamed. Then Draconis broke the middle finger, followed by the ring finger, and the pinky. Narine’s fingers were now standing at an obscene angle, pointing backwards.

And then Draconis walked to her more heavily mutilated left hand. The three remaining fingers were treated to the same treatment. First, the nails were yanked out, and then the fingers were broken. Draconis took his clipper. Narine moaned when she saw the instrument.

Draconis started removing each finger. Slowly. He clipped each finger off at each joint, cauterizing the wound each and ever time. Narine was forced to watch as her fingers were removed, one joint at a time. Even though she had already undergone three worse removals, the psychological torture more than made up for the fact that Draconis didn’t first remove the skin and flesh from the fingers. Narine was literally forced to watch as her self-dependence was stripped away. Without fingers, she would be dependent on others… if she managed to survive.

Draconis admired his handiwork, and with the clipper down. Taking a blowtorch, he lit it. The blue flame reached out from the blackened nozzle. “What…” Narine croaked, licking her lips with non-existent spit. “What are you going to do?” she whispered, her voice so hoarse it was hardly audible. Even speech was painful now.

“You’ll see, dear,” Draconis said, smiling. “It’ll be painful, though.”

Narine closed her eyes. Draconis ran the torch under her armpits, burning off the woman’s hair. That wasn’t all her burned, and Narine screamed with her sore throat at ever-increasing volumes of inhumanity. She sounded more like a savage animal than a human being now, but neither Draconis nor Faith paid any attention. Narine’s screams were background noise now, her throat too damaged to scream louder than ever.

And then, Draconis started on Narine’s foot. Her right foot, the one with all the broken toes. Narine’s toes, pinkish in color, even while standing at an odd angle, were looking healthy. Then Draconis ran the torch over them. One by one, he burned the toes until they were black in color.

More than once, he had to stop in order to allow Narine to cope. He didn’t want her to pass out. After he was done with her toes, Draconis burned Narine’s heel, before turning to her sole, and the top of her foot. Finally, the entire foot was black as coal, and it was a single continuous source of burning agony for Narine.

Then Draconis turned to her left foot. This was had hardly been tortured at all, and Draconis went extra slow, to make sure it hurt the woman well. Slowly he went over her toes, her ankle, her heel, her sole, the top… they all contained a lot of pain-receptors, and they were all overly sensitive because modern people use shoes. Not using shoes creates a hard layer on the bottom of the foot, and it would have dulled the pain for Narine. Unfortunately for her, she was a normal every-day human… and as such, her feet were her weaknesses for someone who knew how to use the human body like Draconis.

After finishing with her left foot, Draconis turned off the torch, and put it back on the tray. Narine continued to cry, her feet burning lumps of pure agony. Faith had to admit, they looked gross, totally burned black.

After allowing Narine half an hour of rest, Draconis returned with the acid-syringe. Smiling, he let a single drop of the acid fall onto each of Narine’s nipples. Narine screamed horribly as the acid ate away at her sensitive brown nipples. The liquid steamed and sizzled as it ate away, before finally losing its potency. Narine whimpered and cried, unable to even beg for leniency now. All she could do was plead with her eyes for mercy from Draconis.

Taking the scalpel, he traced a small circle in the skin around the burned-off nipple. He then made a larger circle around the base of her breast. Narine whimpered, trying one last time to speak, and failing miserably. She was totally helpless now, unable to even beg for her life, or for anything to ease the suffering.

After tracing the base of her left breast, Draconis made six vertical incisions, linking the base with the tip circle, slicing the skin up as if it were a pizza. That’s when Draconis took his pliers once again. Narine whimpered when the horrible instrument neared her.

Draconis removed the skin of Narine’s left breast, sometimes yanking a slice off, sometimes doing it more slowly. But he always, always, kept Narine conscious. He kept her right on the balance of passing out, Narine’s body twisting and turning on the faint groans coming from the miserable woman’s throat.

But Draconis knew she was in intense pain. Her lovely face was twisted in such agony that it looked almost animal in nature.

After removing the skin, Draconis smiled really wickedly at Faith, who stared back in mute shock. She swallowed against the lump in her throat, yet couldn’t turn away from the horrible spectacle in front of her.

Draconis started removing Narine’s breast. The woman whimpered. Draconis worked slowly, removing some of the flesh, then burning it, before removing some more, and burning the wound again. It took Draconis nearly ten pain-filled minutes to remove Narine’s breast. To Narine, it felt like hours.

Then, Draconis went to the other breast. Again, he made six incisions. Only this time, he worked up, leaving the flaps attached to the acid-burned nipple. Gathering the flaps, he tore them off with a single upwards jerk. Narine’s throat produced an inhuman shriek of pain.

Draconis rubbed salt in the wound, before burning it closed with the blowtorch. Narine was now only awake because of the stimulant.

Draconis grabbed a new device: a small hand-held garden claw. Normally used to tear open the soil, he would use it for something completely different now. Draconis sunk the claws deep into Narine’s breast, and yanked. The breast gave, leaving only a couple of bloody straps of flesh where her breast used to be.

Narine screamed, and passed out. Faith brought her back with her hose, and Draconis cauterized the wound with the blowtorch. Narine could no longer scream, her mouth open in a silent scream of pure agony, her face no longer human.

Draconis spread Narine’s legs, and took the hot poker. When Narine seemed to gain some strength, he burned Narine’s outer and inner lips, before burning her clitoris. Narine screamed silently at each and every torture. With a single push, Draconis pushed the hot iron in Narine’s ass, and Narine throat produced a single totally animalistic scream, her eyes opening wide, her face contorted to something totally animal in nature.

Ripping the poker out, Draconis stared into Narine’s unseeing eyes. “She’s going fast,” he told Faith. “What do you say we give her the leniency she has been begged for?”

Faith shrugged. “Sure.”

Draconis nodded, injected one last stimulant into Narine, and saw some measure of intelligence return. He then took the acid-syringe. “We’ve decided to give you leniency. That last stimulant will kill you anyway,” Draconis told the woman. Narine just looked unintelligently at Draconis, the pain that was her life had claimed her humanity.

Nodding, Draconis held the syringe over Narine’s torso, and pushed all the acid onto her body. The liquid sizzled, steamed, and stank up the room as it ate through skin, cauterized wounds, and blood vessels. Faith watched in horrible fascination when she saw the acid dissect Narine. Finally, the acid started attacking her internal organs, but it wasn’t until the acid had dissolved Narine’s ribs, and had removed her heart, that Narine finally died.

Draconis rubbed his hands. “Well, that was stimulating. Buffy!” he yelled. The blonde Slayer came running. “Dump this carcass in the sea, will you? The sharks will get it. Oh, and take that meat with you.”

“Yes, Master,” Buffy said, bowing respectfully, and gathering up the pieces that once made up the secret agent called Narine Igona.

“Faith? You okay?” Draconis asked, looking into Faith’s pale face.

“Yeah…yeah, I’ll be fine…” Faith said. Color returned to her face, and she smiled t Draconis. “Never better, D-man. Don’t worry!”

 

Two years after World War Three – the year 2012.

Four riders on three horses threw up the sands of the summertime northern Norwegian region. They halted near an abandoned castle, long abandoned and forgotten.

“Here we are,” Draconis told his companions. Fait dismounted the second horse, while Buffy and Willow got down from the third horse. Both Buffy and Willow were starting to show signs of aging, now thirty in an age where war had raged for nearly a decade, and most technology was destroyed.

“So, this is the place, huh?” Faith asked. “Doesn’t look that impressive.”

“You want the thing, or not?” Draconis asked as he strode to the main gate, now lying in ruins. Faith grunted, and followed her mentor. As usual, Buffy and Willow remained quiet, and just followed.

Faith couldn’t help but think of the old days. Back then, Draconis could simply have had them parachuted in. But now… ever since the third world war broke out, fuel prices have gone through the roof. Travel is almost impossible. Faith was very lucky that Draconis had a sail yacht. Even his huge treasure wouldn’t last forever, and as Immortal, Faith understand that ‘forever’ is relative in an Immortal’s life. An Immortal always had to look ahead, and Faith understood that by now.

They crossed the empty moat without a problem. Draconis led the group inside, into the great hall that was built within the walls of the castle. It was strange to see a Viking Great Hall built within distinctly Western walls, yet not one of the four gave any notice to it. They were here for something else.

Striding into the Great Hall, the foursome found a huge stone tomb located in the center of the room. Immediately, all four sensed that something was wrong. After surviving the horrors of war for quite some time, and roaming a post-nuclear wasteland where everything and everybody would be hostile, the four had developed nearly super-human survival reflexes.

Draconis drew Skofnung, the mystical blade feeling angry at being drawn for something that wasn’t here. Yet, it had learned to trust its human companion. Faith had no problems with her non-magical DragonFire, and Buffy and Willow huddled together, drawing the sawn-off shotguns they were carrying.

A spirit of a large Viking warrior appeared in front of the foursome. He was wearing a high-class Viking armor, complete with helmet, and large sword dangling from his hip. (Contrary to popular belief, Vikings didn’t wear horns on their helmets)

“Dödsvärd is not for humanity,” the spirit said, surprising everyone by speaking flawless English. “I hear your thoughts,” the spirit explained. “Now, turn back, be never return.”

“I wish the sword,” Draconis said. “For my student.” He brought Skofnung up, ready top strike. The spirit took one look at the blade.

“Skofnung,” the Viking-spirit said. “You wield Skofnung?”

“I do,” Draconis said. The spirit sighed.

“Then there is nothing I can do,” the spirit said, sighing once again. “Take Dödsvärd. I can not stop you.”

“Faith,” Draconis said, indicating the coffin with his head. “Your sword is under that slab.”

Faith nodded, sheathed DragonFire, and cautiously walked to the tomb, carefully watched by the spirit. Faith was confident in her mentor’s ability to cover her, but she hadn’t survived for so long without being cautious. She pushed the slab away, and inside, she found a skeleton, both hands on the hilt of a sheathed sword.

“Dödsvärd?” Faith asked, looking up from the coffin. The spirit nodded. Faith grabbed the sheath, and heaved the sword from the coffin, the skeleton’s hand-bones offering no resistance.

Faith unsheathed the magical blade. “I have my won magical sword,” Faith grunted, feeling the magic of the blade rush through her hands.

“Dödsvärd will kill,” the Viking-spirit told Faith. “Its magical blade is highly poisonous. There is no remedy.”

Faith sheathed the sword. “No special quirks I need to know about, Like Big S over there?”’ Faith asked, jerking her thumb over her shoulder at Skofnung, still in Draconis’ hands.

The spirit shook his head. “No. Frankly, I’m surprised Skofnung isn’t crossed right now.”

Draconis smiled. “We’re partners. Skofnung likes Faith, and my two slave girls over there are beneath Skofnung’s notice. Now that we have were we came for, we’ll be off. Enjoy your rest,” Draconis said, pricking the sword on his finger, drawing a drop of blood, and sheathing it.

The spirit dipped his head, and disappeared. Faith attached Dödsvärd to her left hip. DragonFire switched to her right side, to be used with her left hand, if need be.

“Happy graduation, Faith,” Draconis told her when they were outside the castle. “With your own blade, you are now free to roam the world by yourself, if you so wish, just like my teacher told me when he gave me my own sword.”

Faith looked at the sword. “I think I’ll stay with you some more, D-man. After all… you know how to show a girl a good time.”

Draconis smiled, and mounted his horse. The three horses rode off into the twilight of the setting sun.

 

The End.