With a blindfold over his eyes, a short-haired blonde male remained. He attempted to figure out his surroundings as best as he could, feeling chains against his neck, hands, waist, legs, and hips. A bit overkill if he did say so himself. However, it was smart of them to go to such lengths. Anything less than that and he would already have escaped by then. Yet he was rendered incapacitated, a scoff escaping his lips. Even as he attempted to tug away from the chains, they didn't move. In fact, they registered his attempt to budge free, shocking him and making him grit his teeth in pain.

The chains rattled as he recovered from the electricity, the blonde scowling at the situation he was in. He had been ambushed in the dead of night. The abandoned arena they took temporary refuge in was completely obliterated by a giant explosion. No doubt the work of the highly superior weapons the enemy had access to, more than half of his soldiers killed by the explosion while the others were surrounded. He, himself, despite his attempts to fight back, was knocked out by a very arrogant woman, the sight of (h/c) hair the last thing he saw.

An important leader of a force rebelling against the tyranny of a new dictatorship, he was a constant threat. As such, it was no surprise that they took the opportunity to capture him when the opportunity arose. Obviously, they wanted to see if they could pry out any information from him, not that he planned on letting them get anything out of him. Attempting to bite down on his tongue, he was met with a gloved hand lodged in his mouth, preventing anything from progressing. He gagged until the hand gripped onto his tongue, the action quite mocking.

"A coward's way out," a feminine voice chuckled, the male furrowing his eyebrows, "Well, I'd let you, but then I won't get what I want. So be a good boy and be patient."

The blonde attempted to bite down on the girl's hand; however, the gloves she wore prevented harm from being done to her. So despite his efforts to harm the enemy in some way, he didn't even get close, even being ridiculed with her amused laugh. She patted his cheek patronizingly before removing the blindfold, allowing him to see her fit form. The (h/c) haired marshall certainly lived up to the name of her title. With a confident disposition about her and clever, graceful movements, she showed no sign of weakness.

She shoved the blindfold into his mouth to deter him from biting at his tongue before looking him up and down. Her gaze was scrutinizing and deeply intimidating, but he sought to do the same as her. Observing as much as he could about her, he found her to have little regard for her own modesty. The tight leather suit clung to her skin, its zipper down to her mid-abdomen, showing her bare bosom. With a belt full of poison, bullets, and other advanced technologies or biological weapons, she was prepared to deal with any threat no matter the situation. He supposed that was why she got the jump on him.

"Your name is Servius Adauctus," she hummed, looking down at a hologram that projected from her wrist, "Quite young for your position, but I guess that's because you're short on supporters. Ah, but talented, hm? You were the one responsible for the midwestern pass incident last year. Impressive."

"Don't patronize me," the male attempted to say, only for the gag to make it an indecipherable murmur.

"No, no, I mean it. Without access to any superior weapons or technology, you've managed to survive for quite some time. Can't say the same for the others."

The blonde remained silent, knowing that his words would only have harmed him and his companions than they would have helped. In fact, it seemed the only thing he could have done in that situation was to gather any information he could and somehow make it back to his companions. All the while, he would have to avoid giving away any information of his own. He didn't know what they had at their disposal or if they had some secret machine to make him reveal his secrets or fish them out from his head. If that was the case, he may as well have died then and there. His existence was little more than an obstacle to his allies.

"Well, I'll leave the rest to my subordinates. I'll see you later, Servius. Do look forward to it."

The (h/c) haired girl walked out of the room with a chuckle, taking wide strides. A man and a woman then pressed a cloth to his mouth, covering his nose while he attempted to struggle. However, it was no use, and within mere moments, he was knocked out, falling limp in the chains that restrained him. He was then moved to another location while he slept, his defenseless form subject to any humiliation they inflicted on him. The blonde didn't know just what that entailed for him until his eyes opened up again.

He groaned at the headache the chloroform had given him, even wincing at the pressure his head experienced. That being said, it quickly took a backseat to his new situation, the male grimacing at the cold air nipping at his naked skin. He had been stripped of any and all clothing, left to be completely naked save for a curious device placed on his member. Attempting to ignore it, he once again assessed his situation, once more noting chains restraining his form.

The male didn't try to escape, knowing the chains would only shock him as they did before. That being said, they left his mouth open, free from any rag to prevent him from biting his tongue. Seizing the opportunity, the male immediately attempted to end his life, but the chains shocked him into submission. He scoffed, breathing heavily from the abuse, but he didn't scream nor give into it. Rather, he continued to attempt suicide, in the vain hope that he would either succeed or the constant shocks would kill him.

"I would stop that if I were you," a voice rang out, the male narrowing his eyes when he realized it was not the marshall he had encountered before, but rather, a servant of some sort, "It's not like it'll do you any good. The mistress was rather strict on you being unscarred by our account."

"You won't get anything from me! Even if you poison me or chop off my limbs one by one, I will remain loyal to my companions!"

"Oh? Is that what you think torture is?"

The blonde gave a surprised expression at the question. A chill ran up his spine from the way it was posed to him. It was as if the people in front of him - who chuckled with pity - had gone through the process countless times before. He gritted his teeth, attempting to once more bite down on his tongue. Again, he was shocked, but there was no permanent damage to his body nor any scars to have pride in.

"Really, I told you to stop," the woman huffed, placing her hand on the male's chin and tilting it up slightly, ignoring his glares of hatred, "The first rule you should know is that the mistress's toys don't get hurt. If they do, how will she play with them?"

"Then I guess I'm faulty goods. Scars already litter my body. Since I'm worthless, kill me."

"I can...see that. But no, the second rule is that the mistress's toys are treated with delicacy."

The other servants in the room chuckled, some of them guards while others appeared to be maids of some sort. However, with the weapons they carried, they may as well have been soldiers themselves. He was no match, tied up and restrained like that. Perhaps having him completely bare was another form of keeping him put. No man could run around naked like that without shame. It would have put him at a severe disadvantage.

"The third rule," the woman hummed, motioning to a servant who proceeded to press a small button.

The blonde paused, an indescribable feeling welling up over his entire body. His back arched, his legs stiffened, and his mouth hung open, saliva dribbling down. He had never experienced something so intense, his confusion and shock leading him to attempt to process it all at once. A vibration located at his length made him shiver and breathe quickly, his mind clouding over with fear. What kind of weapon was that supposed to be? To make him react in such a way despite his resistance to pain. It was terrifying.

Attempting to stop the sensation, the male pulled against the chains to no avail. He tried to remove the device, but it was of no use. The chains wouldn't even let him get close, his eyes squeezing shut. Since his legs were unchained, he then moved his attention to them, trying to use them to remove them, but once again, it was no use. He groaned in - what he assumed to be pain - banging his head against the headboard of the bed he was seated on to take his mind off of it and withstand it.

"Mistress's pets are never to be pleasured by anyone other than the mistress herself unless the mistress permits it. You may not touch yourself or others, and vice versa unless directly stated by the mistress. I'm sure it doesn't need to be said, general, but break these rules and you will no longer be a guest spoiled by the mistress. That is all."

The woman bowed her head a bit before leaving the room, other servants and guards following after her. Some threw back pitied chuckles, others simply ignored him, but he could only focus on the numbing sensation he experienced. They left him there for what felt like an eternity, the sign of the sun lowering down to reveal the stars and moon. He didn't know how many hours he had been subject to the new form of torture he experienced. The blonde just wanted to end it all to never feel such a thing again.

Every now and again, they would have switched up the intensity of the feeling, the male flinching every time it happened. It felt bizarre to him, that when the sensation lowered drastically, he felt more frustrated. The more time passed, the more he could no longer think, his eyes lowered to the wall with a blank stare and a thick line of drool coating a stream down his neck. He had never felt so revealed and vulnerable in all of his life.

"Well, look at you," the (h/c) haired marshall whistled, entering the room suddenly with a chuckle and sitting on the bed beside him, "You look like you're experiencing hell right now. Poor thing. Let me help you."

The general heightened his guard, expecting her to kill him. While he had wanted to perish, he wanted to do so by his own hands, not by those of a dictator's lapdog. However, he was thrown into a loop when she clicked a button and the sensation of his manhood ceased to exist. He let out a low and lengthy whine, greatly entertaining the marshall in front of him. She cleaned away the drool on him and patted his head before staring at his nude form with dangerous curiosity.

Before, he had thought she was too immodestly dressed to be considered any form of respectable official. Yet, with what he had just gone through, there was nothing he wanted to see more than the sight of fabric clinging to her womanly form. The sight of her breasts just barely held back by it made his breath sharp, desire building up within him. He even attempted to fight back against the chains, wanting nothing more than to tear the fabric away from her and ravage her body. Although his mind wasn't entirely sure what that meant, his body was far more knowledgeable on the subject.

Still, the male realized he had gone without restraint and held himself back, trying to compose himself with dignity. The (h/c) haired girl only laughed with hysteria, incredibly entertained by his train of thought. She then moved her hand to grasp around the male's manhood, the length trembling and twitching at her touch. It felt very different from the vibrations he had been subjected to, the feel of a warm and moving hand intoxicating to him.

As she teasingly pumped it, the male threw his head back in disbelief, biting down on his lips to suppress any groans that dared escape his aching throat. Her gestations became quicker and quicker, her hand tighter around his length, but he would not take her mocking him. With frustration and rage, he closed his legs, glaring at her with teary eyes. She, unlike before, was not amused, and promptly removed her hand, the male immediately feeling repercussions for his actions.

"I see you're not ready to be a good little general," she hummed lowly, placing her hand on his throat and squeezing it tightly, "That's alright. I'll be back in the morning, so enjoy my gift, Servius."

The (h/c) haired marshall, displeased, left the room, but not before turning back on the vibrations of the machine at an intense level. He choked on his own saliva, gagging and groaning loudly, the feeling teasingly fake when compared to what she had inflicted on him personally. Though he bucked his hips up in an attempt to simulate what she had performed, there was nothing there to allow even an ounce of friction. His eyes shrunk. She said she was going to leave him there until morning? Would he even survive?

. . .

"Mistress! Mistress!" a soldier shouted out, bursting into the girl's room with force, a worried look painted across their features, "The prisoner has escaped!"

Looking outside the window, the moon was still high in the sky, meaning he couldn't have gotten far. However, what she was really interested in was how he had been able to escape. The chains should have only been releasable through a key in which she held. Not to mention, they were made of such a strong alloy, they couldn't have been broken by the feeble access to technology the male's faction possessed. She sighed, not particularly worried about the outcome to the soldier's surprise. Instead, she just sat down on the couch, reading a book with the utmost of composure.

Even later in the night, she had gotten confirmation that the male had escaped with the help of his allies. They appeared to have taken a weapon's cache from the southern keep and used it to both sneak into and out of the guarded area. (Y/n) sighed, annoyed that they had gotten away with such things, but once again, she was not too bothered by it. Instead, she continued to read, waiting for more news to come.

By daybreak, she was subjected to the clamoring of soldiers surrounding her room. The noise gave her a headache, so she promptly slammed the book shut and placed it delicately on the table before stomping out of the enclosure. She found they were readying to put down an enemy, one in which they claimed showed up out of nowhere and invaded the area. Twice in one night, she thought. It was definitely a pain.

Stepping out to the front of the building, she found a male breathing heavily, practically drenched in blood. Every ounce of him was covered in it, from head to toe, so much that she couldn't even tell the color of his eyes. It looked like it stained itself into even his head, the sight amusing. Crossing her arms over her chest, she was met with a head rolling to her feet, the marshall picking it up with curiosity, only to recognize it instantly. The leader of another irritating sect of those against the dictatorship. Useful.

Looking up to see the culprit for such a feat, she found the male stalking closer and closer to her. He lacked energy, even falling to her feet with a large exhale and inhale. Kicking his head with her boot, she discovered that he was not dead, and due to her "gratefulness", she leaned down to lift his chin up, only to find eyes filled with obsession. He gripped onto her and looked up at her with shaking pupils, desperate to get his words out.

"Please...Please, I know you wanted them dead. I killed them for you...all of them. If you want, I'll give you information about the others, too! J-Just please...do what you did before! You have to! I'm going crazy!"

(Y/n) once more burst out into sadistic laughter, throwing the rotting head aside. She grabbed the cheeks of the male below her and smirked, pulling him into a passionate kiss. He did not reject it in the slightest, gripping and grabbing at any part of her to get her closer to himself. If one didn't know, they would have thought he was trying to combine both of their bodies. He wanted them so close that you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. That crippling desire led him to betray his own companions; the ones he was so stubborn about being loyal to. How frail that connection turned out to be.

"It's almost disappointing, Severius. But I suppose you've earned a big reward."

"P-Please!"

Chuckling, the (h/c) haired marshall dragged the male up to her bedroom, not even bothering to clean the blood off of him. Instead, she preferred it, treating him as a war trophy for her greatest victim yet. It was never hard to turn people against one another. With a young soldier like that, who had been born amongst fighting and only ever learned how to serve his and his companion's morals, he was bound to be helpless against an attack like that.

Indeed, torture didn't have to be painful. One could attack their spirit, their body, even their mind, but she sought to attack the heart. The process hadn't been refined nor had it been perfected, leading to such carnal desire over that of romantic obsession, but it worked wonders on even a strong young man. She smirked sadistically at the way he clung to her, trying to grab every last inch of her for himself. That greed drove him to dive right into her trap, the girl amusingly trailing her finger down his spine, the male releasing a gluttonous expression of appetite.

That night, the blonde had experienced the greatest pleasure he had ever felt. She allowed him to be inside of her, to be one with her, the male never wanting to ever disobey again. If she were to reward him in such a way, what was the point in ever betraying her? He shivered at the thought of being without it, obsessively clinging to her throughout the night. Licking her, kissing her, touching her, he didn't care. It just had to be her.