Amara vs Slavers | chains, cuffs | free bondage stories

It’s a morning like any other, the sun is out, giving its splendorous light to the land despite a sparse smattering of clouds. The green field stretches on for kilometers, and at the main road there are a few people walking. Merchants are trying to sell their goods to the passersby; products like herbs, small potions, and local handicrafts.

Amara is a young woman, with blue eyes and a long blonde hair in a ponytail fixed in place with a silk red ribbon. All of her features mark her as a noble except for her attire; she wears a shiny silver-white armor and carries a shield on her left arm, and a sheathed blade hangs from her belt. Like everyone else, she’s taking the main road, but she isn’t very sure of where she’s heading. Perhaps stopping at the nearest city would be best; she could buy a few supplies, eat and rest. She approaches another road and asks the nearest traveler where that might lead.

“Excuse me, sir! Please, where will this path take me? I don’t see any signs.”

The old man stopped. He seemed kind enough by the smile he offered her. He was walking carefree, albeit with the aid of a cane. He answered:

“You see, lady… This path, if you go straight, goes the same way as the main road, but goes through the rural zone. Only farms from here to there. It’s only used by the people who live and work there. Few people take that road. It’s a long walk and also… Too many bandits.”

“Hmm! I see. Thank you very much, kind sir.”

Being polite, Amara bows her head and begins down the rural path.

“Lady… Didn’t you hear what I said? It’s dangerous.”

“Thank you for your kind concern! I promise to stay out of trouble. And besides, I’ve never seen a farm before. It’ll be a fun, new experience.”

In fact, Amara had never seen a farm in her whole life. In fact, she hardly had any experience out in the open world. Even the path she had just taken was completely new to her. Seeing strangers coming and going, taking care of their business and complimenting each other as they walked - it was somewhat refreshing for her.

Amara had left her homeland behind in haste; she wanted to be able to choose what do to with her life and not to live by the whims and desires of others. She had lived what she considered a sheltered life, but she couldn’t say it was a meaningless one. She’d studied a lot, gaining knowledge of a large swath of topics. She read anything with novel information, but also simply adored reading. And she constantly sought new material and consumed it ravenously.

She also treasured the time she spent training with the guards and officers from her land, although she resented that she’d had to hide it. All the nobles viewed her as a tomboy and ‘not lady-like’. She remembered hearing from the corridors that her way of thinking and doing things was shameful to her family. No, she doesn’t miss her home. She misses her few friends – some of the officers and the captain of the guards – and her books.

Deciding to go and see the world for herself, a world she’d only read about, it was her biggest step towards ‘freedom’. As she thought of that she remembered her father, and their last conversation before she packed her things and left. Shaking her head, Amara says to herself:

“What’s done is done and I’m not returning. If that happens, it’ll be because I choose to go back.”

The guards often said that she would be a great officer, if she ever received permission. Unfortunately, they all knew that that would never happen. Having raw talent without being able to use it was a waste; this knowledge cast a gloomy cloud over her and everyone she knew. Amara wanted to help people, anyway possible. If she remained at home she would be only a caged bird, capable of singing but never truly flying.

As these thoughts continue to churn in Amara's head, she is interrupted by a sudden scream, a woman’s scream. She turns her head toward the sound and immediately runs, driven perhaps by instinct or by a strong sense of justice, towards the danger. The source of the cries for help is a wagon near the road and two strong men, capturing and humiliating a young woman. Her attire indicated that she was a local; perhaps a farmer or a farmer’s daughter. One of the men was holding the girl on the ground, tearing some parts of her clothes and forcing the pieces of cloth inside her mouth, cutting short her protests and pleas for help while the other ties her tightly with rope. They moved with a quickness and sureness indicative of experience. They tie her arms tightly behind her back, forcing her arms to touch, binding her wrists and elbows. After securing each knot, they pull the girl up, applying more rope above and below her breasts. The girl struggles as best she can, but the man holding her is nearly twice her size and holds her in place with ease. Tears form in her eyes as she is robbed of her voice and freedom. The farmer’s humiliation and torment was apparently still incomplete; the man binding her brandished another rope and began to tie it around her waist before crossing it between her legs. He tightened it over her womanhood until it became unbearable for her, as it dug in and rubbed her most sensitive part, even over the thin fabric of her clothes. The men laugh and jeer, and when one says "Such a good catch; this slave will fetch a nice price," the woman reaches her limit, bursting into tears, hopeless. This moment of indignation rattles Amara from her shock and trepidation:

“Let the girl go right now!”

The men stop what they were doing to see who yelled at them. Amara unsheathes her sword and runs directly at them. The plain field carried their words clearly; she was certain they had used the word ‘slave’. As she runs her face becomes a canvas for her fury; if looks could kill, the two men bullying the girl would have dropped dead instantly.

They must be slavers. All the more reason to stop them right here!

The practice of selling and buying slaves is not unusual, it's actually a common practice and the source of a lot of business in the kingdom. Its defenders said that it provided workers for a number of key industries, but they never mentioned that it also filled brothels and ‘fun houses’ made for the masses. Amara despises this entire practice, but understands that it’s not something she can put an end. Only firm laws and justice could do that. But this wasn’t right. It was kidnapping. These men were capturing a defenseless girl on the road and planning to sell her. That was a crime, and she wouldn’t leave it unpunished. She yelled again:

“Release the girl this instant!”

The two men, smirking at the female knight, ignore her order and simply grab their weapons. The larger one wields a greatsword that had probably seen better days, as the blade is chipped all over, and the smaller one holds a large hunting dagger.

“We have another slave here, better teach this new stock some manners.”

The arrogant man with the sword plunges forward. Amara watches his movement as if he were in slow motion; she reads it easily, moving to her left as the man's sword swings vertically. She deftly strikes the man's sword handle with her own one-handed silver blade, disarming him. Continuing with her momentum, she spun in a tight circle to catch the man’s face with the center of her shield as he leapt forward. In a matter of seconds, the huge man was disarmed and unconscious, crumpling backwards onto the ground. As the smaller man watches this unfold he is momentarily overcome with astonishment, which turns to panic as he meets the woman's defiant glare. His terror visible turns to anger in his eyes, but he is evidently more composed than his partner. He moves forward, his movements swifter and faster than Amara expects. The knight’s careful and measured footwork keeps her one step ahead of the dagger's blade; she dodges as fast as she can until, seeing an opportunity, she parries with her shield and swung her blade.

The slaver isn't a pushover; he seems to have real combat experience, something Amara lacks. His feints and quick movements keep her on the defensive, but she holds her ground, fighting with everything she learned and trying to adapt to her enemy’s skills as the fight proceeds while keeping an eye out for an opening. Despite this, she is caught off guard when the man swiftly ducks, and in the instant that she loses sight of him, he performs a leg sweep that sends her teetering onto her rear. The man jumps on her triumphantly, grinning ear to ear. That was his mistake. Inexperienced though she was, she’d learned when a fight wasn't over, and this rogue’s relief was premature. The knowledge that her own fate and the fate of the farmer woman are on the line grants her the adrenaline she needs. She rocks backwards, pulling her legs into her chest as much as possible, forcing the man to land on her feet. The man's maniacal glee and condescension instantly turns into astonishment and confusion as she pushes her legs with all her might, throwing him backwards. The effort is enough to send him flying through the air before hitting the wagon with a thud.

With both men unconscious, Amara arises victorious and returns her sword to its scabbard, letting herself breathe a sigh of relief. She looks at the girl still bound on the ground and moves toward her. With a gentle smile, she assures the girl that everything is fine now. She saw the desperate look in the girl's eyes, heard the muffled cries from beneath her tight gag, and understood in that instant that something was wrong. And still it was too late. Something sprouts from the ground like an abnormal plant. Black chains in a purple aura quickly sprout from under her and reach toward her limbs. First they ensnare her legs. She feels the impact of those chains and fights to keep her balance while evading the mystic assault. But as soon as she tries to kick her legs free, three other chains trike like lightning and attached themselves to her wrists and neck. She grabs the chain on the collar and pulls with everything she has but it simply isn't enough; it's locked in place and there doesn't seem to be a way to remove it. She finally finds the source of these chains: someone was in the wagon, and from the looks of it a mage. She curses herself for being careless; there was another one of those slavers and she had completely missed him.

“Free me this instant!”

Amara screams at the man, but his only answer is a smirk and the strange sound of chains and magic moving on her. The links that form on the chains shift and manifest, enforcing even more restrictions on her body as they do. The links on her wrist cuffs connect to one another, forcing her hands behind her back, as her legs that are now forced together. Amara desperately struggles for balance, but the chains are pulling themselves back to the ground suddenly, forcing her to kneel. Another link appears from behind the collar and fuses with the wrist cuffs and begins to pull, her arms are put in a very uncomfortable reversed prayer position as her hands can almost touch her neck. As if this were not enough, the same links appear on the leg cuffs and connect to her wrists, forcing her into a painful arched position.

The last of her strength gives away as she falls flat on her tummy. She glares at the mage, screaming:

“You fiend! I said relea-“

“Mute.”

“Agmmmfh!”

With just a single word from the mage, a large black sphere – similar in appearance to the chains – appears inside Amara's mouth and expands, effectively gagging her.

Amara can't believe that such a fate has befallen her mere few days into her journey. She tried to protect a life, and may have lost her own. She struggles in defiantly, but each movement is painful on her wrists, back and neck. She needs to escape and tries desperately to think of a way to save herself and the girl. Then the other two slavers begin to wake up.

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