Given To Women [CORTEZ]

Given To Women

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Given to Women
by Cortez. All rights reserved
Illustrated by ARIES.

Dragged from the darkness of the cells, Monique Desalle was dazzled by the sun blazing down into the EmirТs dreaded Punishment Courtyard. Slowly adjusting to the light the young, blonde Frenchwoman blinked rapidly, still in the shadow of the deep, tiled veranda. The high, whitewashed walls were pierced at intervals by archways, some obscured by intricate fretwork grilles, some like the one sheТd just been pulled through, guarded with iron barred gates.

The courtyard itself was paved with smooth stone slabs. The young woman looked out then kept her head lowered, trying to avoid the sight of the horrible looking devices and heavy wooden shapes scattered round the enclosed square. Perhaps by not looking she could pretend this whole thing was just a nightmareЕ

One step more and the nightmare became only too real as she saw the girl hanging by her wrists from a beam at the front edge of the veranda. Her legs were stretched wide apart, each ankle lashed tightly to an iron ring set into the tiled floor. The stripes of a recent whipping stood out like fine red lines, criss-crossing her brown skin, the weals even lacing the wide aureoles and prominent nipples of her small, high breasts.

The girlТs heaving breaths, the quivering of her stomach muscles and the thick, wet cream lacing the lips of her sex told Monique that she had not just been flogged, but she had been made to come to a climax within the last few minutesЕ and not for the first time either that morning by the evidence of the gasping, lolling exhaustion on her face.

Monique gazed at the slim figure of her maid, Nula, in horror; her hopes of a last minute rescue finally dashed.

УAfter last night… did you not think I would have you watched?Т The Emir chuckled, his gross body wobbling as he lolled back on a mound of cushions studying the near-naked French woman held before him in the iron grip of two guards. As he had ordered, she had been tied at the elbows with her arms behind her. With her shoulders forced back, her full breasts thrust forwards obscenely, the pink stubs of her nipples standing proud and ready as though offering themselves for the EmirТs attentions.

The Emir giggled, enjoying the mental torture of toying with her. СOh, I seeЕ you think that your maid over there might have managed to deliver that urgent message you gave her.Т He held up his hands in mock fright. СAnd now, I can do nothing to you because foreign soldiers are on their way to free youЕТ He licked his lips, enjoying the moment. He paused, picked up a single sheet of paper and pretended to study its contents. СUnfortunately, she wasЕ interrupted, in her task.Т

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MoniqueТs incriminating letter, entrusted to Nula only hours before, was casually tossed aside. СSo, no soldiersЕ and no rescue either. Such a pityЕ for you. Now you will be able to watch my two little persuaders helping your traitorous maidservant to understand the penalty of betrayalЕТ

He giggled again, thick lips curling in a cruel smile, as he looked down to where two young Arab women, each one naked, apart from gold bangles at wrist and ankles and a gold cord round the waist, were curled up, catlike, on the rugs at his feet. Monique, her last hope shattered, shivered violently as she looked at the eager, smiling faces of EmirТs two dreaded torturers.

СOf courseЕ then it will be your turnЕТ he went on. The two women smiled broadly at his words, their own expressions hot and avid with cruel anticipation. Making sure that Monique could see, they stretched lazily on the cushions, soft fingers moving and caressing each other, one gently stroking her companionТs long dark nipples while, in return, the other traced her finger tips over the plump naked lips of her friendТs sex. Both of them wet their thick, full lips, their gaze fixed on the young Frenchwoman, their kohl-rimmed eyes studying her slim curves. Monique Desalle shivered despite the baking heat as she watched their deliberate sex-play, knowing that the awful stories were true. These were the ones who had spent the morning whipping and pleasuring Nula for the EmirТs amusement as the captured maid hung helpless from the beam.

Although the guards had ripped her cotton gown away completely, the young Frenchwoman was still wearing a black thong, the waist band pulled high on her hips so that the bulging V of her sex was cupped and emphasized by the abbreviated triangle of taut fabric. Monique trembled uncontrollably, knowing the agony that must soon come. The two womenТs smiles deepened as they saw how the French womanТs trembling fear was making her full, pink-tipped breasts, jiggle and bounce delightfully.

Monique tried to twist away as the two women padded across to her but the guards just gripped her arms even harder. She bit her lips as soft fingers tickled the out-thrust globes of her breasts, feeling the familiar betrayal of her body as her nipples hardened and rose under their expert touch. She writhed, trying to remain silent as sharp nails scratched and scraped the delicate pink flesh of each stub and its wide, tender aureole.

In a few minutes the women had brought each nipple to an aching hardness and Monique was panting and moaning, writhing in the guardТs hands as the torturing nails continued to tease the delicate flesh of each breast. СI am RiaЕ and this is Mena,Т the taller woman whispered, teeth nipping at MoniqueТs ear. Her hand traced down the French womanТs quivering belly so she could play with the pouting bulge still cupped by the black silky thong. СNo need for these nowЕ.Т She said softly, fingers scraping over the taut fabric and teasing the swell of MoniqueТs labia so that she twisted even more wildly against the coarse, grubby fingers of the guards.

With Ria still tickling her cunt, Monique felt MenaТs hands on her hips, soft fingers easing the waist string down as she peeled the clinging wet fabric away, pausing to tease the cord to and fro between her buttocks before pulling the panties down completely to reveal the prominent lips of the young French womanТs clean-shaven sex. RiaТs fingers returned to stroking the now-naked labia, gently tracing along the moist split of her cunt.

Kissing Mena over the French womanТs shoulder, Ria brought another anguished moan from her victim as one finger slipped deeper to caress around the fleshy hood at the entrance of her cleft, using a tormenting feather touch to bring the bulb of MoniqueТs clitoris to full erection.

The finger circled in the wetness, just grazing the tip of the little stub with an expert stroking movement. СAh, Aaah, p-p-please, ah yes, aaaaaah!Т Monique twisted and surged in the grip of the guards. Then she was suddenly left panting as the finger was withdrawn

СEnoughЕ it is time for you sing for usЕcome, Т Lia whispered. Monique squealed as each of the women gripped one of her nipples, pinching the hard, pink tip between finger and thumb. The women smiled at each other, nodding for the guards to release their hold. Hearing MoniqueТs gasping cries and frantic pleas they simply twisted their fingers harder, pulling unmercifully as they forced her to walk out into the blazing sun of the courtyard, led by the agonizing double grip on her teats.

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Once out in the full glare and heat they stopped, forcing Monique to look at the devices scattered across the hot stone slabs of the Punishment Courtyard. With relish they turned her, twisting their hands on her nipples to move her as they wished, making sure she studied each one of the EmirТs favorite torture instruments in turn.

To one side, a four-legged stand supported a black metal saddle, very much abbreviated but with an unmistakable domed shaft curving up from the center. To the left of the saddle, on a stone block, a small bowl held a bed of charcoal, gray with ash. There was no flame or smoke, but Monique could see the shimmer in the air that revealed the heat coming from the coals.

Near the saddle, and mounted on a circular stone slab, a single polished stake rose almost chest high. Arm thick at the base, it tapered, not to a spike as Monique expected, but to a flared crest, almost the size and shape of a plum. About eighteen inches from the base, two small pegs jutted outЕ

Monique shuddered as she was forced to look at the grim stake. Knowing exactly what it was for, she imagined the women ordering the guards to lift her up, then both of them giggling as they held the lips of her body open so they could slide that cruelly blunted end into her body.

Monique shuddered again at the thought of the fierce, unending pain as the stake slipped deeper and deeper, her descent halted only when she could balance precariously with her big toes alone resting on the little pegs, the muscles of her calves and thighs on fire with agony. She knew that the final torment would be the sight of the Emir and his women, taking their ease, laughing and joking as they waited for the moment she would slipЕ and begin that final, agonizing descent.

Building up her fear by taking her to each device in turn, the women pulled her towards the stake only to turn away at the last moment.

Another few stumbling paces and she was taking in the details of a curved and padded whipping frame, all black wood and leather. Monique, trembling at sight of each new horror, could see exactly how she would be made to straddle the end of the block, how each leg would be bent double to open the cleft of her bottom before being strapped immovably in place.

Then, finally being forced forwards, far over the rolled leather pad, her arms pulled down until her wrists could be tied to the base of the frame, leaving her open and helpless to whatever they might wish to do. Just to leave her in no doubt, a tall earthenware pot beside the frame held a selection of long canes and bamboo rodsЕ all looking as though they were well used.

Another teasing pause as MoniqueТs heart raced in fear but the women tugged her aching teats again and Monique was forced to stagger on. Further round the courtyard, two strong uprights stood alone, a U-shaped slot cut into the top of each post. Monique shivered as she wondered what diabolical torture they might involveЕ

Her terrified imaginings were cut short as the women twisted her round, pulling her back past the impalement stake and the iron saddle to the other side of the courtyard. On their own, two iron posts supported a serrated brass bar. A narrow wooden platform stood beneath the bar. Short wooden stakes were set in holes in the slabs on either side.. The top of each stake was stainedЕ and shaped into a blunt point.

MoniqueТs eyes bulged and her breath rasped more quickly in her throat as she looked at the polished brass rail and the line of blunt zigzag teeth crowning its top edge. Before the mission started she had heard whispered talk of girls being made to Сride the Brass MareТ. Now she realized just what the EmirТs СBrass MareТ was; and knew with a sick certainty that it was her who would be riding the diabolical device in a few moments time.

The two women released their grip on her nipples, giggling to each other as she hissed and danced in the agony of returning circulation. The EmirТs words confirmed her worst fears. СAh! You know of my little toy, I see. Well, now you will ride for me, just for a little whileЕ something for you to think about as you watch my little ones at work on your maidЕТ Lia patted MoniqueТs bottom as she and Mena forced their trembling victim to step up onto the unsteady platform, holding her firmly as Monique awkwardly lifted one leg to straddle the brass rail.

This time it was Mena who cupped MoniqueТs sex, her forefinger slipping easily between the French womanТs labia to play with the little bulb of her clitoris. СAh, ah no, no p-please, Aaaahhh!Т Monique groaned, caught between the thrill of the womanТs touch and the anticipation of the torture that was about to start.

СYou want to come? You will, many times but not yet, first you must watch herЕТ Mena whispered. Still straddling the bar on the wobbly platform, Monique looked across to where Nula still hung. СEnough waitingЕ sit down on the bar nowЕ.Т Monique felt MenaТs hands parting her labia as Lia pressed her shoulders, forcing her to squat down.

СAh, God, ah, no no, I canТt,Т she squealed as she felt her most sensitive flesh touching the blunt serrations. She squealed again at the sharp, stabbing pain as her weight pressed the bar deeper into the soft valley of her cunt. The two women had done this so often before that they gave her no chance to struggle or resist. Just as she began to feel the real pressure of the bar, Mena used one foot to tip the little platform forwards and Monique screamed like an animal as her full weight sank onto the thin, blade-like rail.

Lia held her arms in an almost gentle grip, her tongue just licking the whorls of MoniqueТs ear as she kept the babbling, pain-wracked girl upright as they both waited for the first manic cries to subside. СThere, there, such a pain I know, but you can rest a littleЕ move your legs outЕ yes, yes I know it hurts moreЕ but if your toes can find the stakesЕТ

The two women watched avidly as Monique scrabbled and fought for balanceЕ eventually managing to lodge her feet on the two wooden stakes, stretching up on tiptoe to relieve the awful strain on her cunt. Satisfied with her splayed position, Mena secured a rope between MoniqueТs trussed arms and then threw it over a thick, blackened beam that crossed the corner of the courtyard above the girlТs head.

СAh, ah, Arrrggghhh! No, no Noooooo! AAARRRRGGGGHHH!Т

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Monique squealed even louder as Lia tightened the rope, forcing her to curl forwards, the brass rail biting cruelly as the weight of her body forced one of the blunt peaks against her clitoris. The women smiled, once more toying with the French womanТs heavy dangling breasts as they enjoyed her struggles as Lia carefully adjusted the rope for maximum effect.

By the time the two women had finished playing with the rope Monique was already straining to cope with her devilish position astride the Brass Mare. Although not sharp, the blunt points on each stake created a dull, agonizing pain in the balls of her feet and toes as she tried to hold herself as far off the toothed bar as possible. The splay of her legs and her tiptoe stance ensured that her calves and thighs were already quivering with strain. Knowing exactly what would happen next the women clasped hands and made their way back slowly to the shade of the veranda.

Soon the torturing ride would begin properly. When the strain became too great, Monique would be forced to lower herself fully onto the bar. In seconds, the new pain in her cunt would again become too much and she would try and lift herself back onto tiptoe once more, exchanging the agony of the rail for the agony of the stakes and her tortured leg muscles. Up and down, up and down, riding the Brass Mare in a blaze of agonyЕ until of course she lost her footing on the stakesЕ

The sun blazed down as the Emir and his two torturers took their ease in the shade. Before them, sweat rolling down her lightly tanned body, Monique Desalle cried and screamed, rising and falling in a slow, terrible rhythm. Her wide splayed legs allowing her torturers to see the way her labia were bulging and sliding over the toothed brass blade, a blade that now gleamed and glistened with the juices leaking from the French womanТs body

СA pretty picture,Т the Emir giggled as he fondled Ria and Mena. His eyes were hot with excitement as he watched MoniqueТs desperate, slow rise and fall. СNow for the maid again, play with her a little for meЕТ He studied his grim СtoysТ with the air of someone choosing a fine vintage. СThenЕ ah yes, put her on the saddle. Her mistress can see what is in store for her tooЕ Т As the women uncoiled themselves and padded across to where the slim maidservant hung between the pillars the Emir chuckled to himselfЕ after all, it would be foolish to waste the charcoal now it was litЕ

Mena pressed herself against the slim maidservantТs back, rubbing her long rubbery nipples over the network of red weals, her hands reaching round to play with the girlТs breasts. Nula cried out, automatically arching forwards to avoid any contact with the raw skin of her back. Ria, waiting in front of NulaТs outstretched body, knew exactly what the young maidservant would do. Her hand cupped the moist lips of her cunt, letting NulaТs own thrusting movement slide two fingers deep into the entrance of her vagina.

СNoooooo, no, no, you said I could rest! Not again! PleaseЕ I canТt, no more, pleaseЕ youТre hurrrting meee!Т

The maid bucked violently, making matters worse as her struggles only worked RiaТs fingers deeper into her cunt. Mena pressed her hips against the maidТs bottom, forcing her onto RiaТs busy fingers, deliberately adding to the young girlТs helpless writhing movements by tickling the deep sensitive hollows beneath each arm.

СAh, ah, no, please no, no, ah, Ah AH AAAAAH!Т

Already wildly sensitive from her previous orgasms it only took a few minutes of RiaТs expert masturbation before the young maidservantТs cries turned from pleading to pleasure. Blinking and flicking her head to rid herself of the sweat rolling down her face and body, Monique watched from her agonizing position astride the rail as the two women brought Nula to yet another screaming climax. RiaТs hand thrusting in and out of the girlТs cunt like a piston whilst Mena brought fresh spasms from the pinioned figure as she carefully worked her forefinger deep into the girlТs anus. In devilish partnership the two women forced the maid to climax and then held her at her screaming, pleading peak as they fondled and probed her body relentlessly.

Monique watched in horror as each of them used her free hand to draw crimson stripes of pain down NulaТs front and sides, using their nails to scrape across the red, raw weals of the earlier whipping. All the while their fingers rubbed and teased the delicate tissues of her vagina and anus, forcing her to peak after squealing peak as she bucked and twisted for the EmirТs delight.

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СEnough, enough, my little onesЕТ The Emir clapped his hands finally. СLet her ride the saddle for us now!Т The two women smiled as they gave the shaking, sobbing figure a few final caresses. Whilst the guards busied themselves with cutting Nula down from the beam and freeing her legs, they moved across to where Monique still moved gently up and down in her slow, agonizing rhythm.

Standing one either side of the French girl they caressed the dangling globes of her breasts. Their hands, still slippery with the wetness of NulaТs climax, slithered over the pink nipples, tweaking and scratching the swollen tips so that Monique cried out as she was forced to move more vigorously on the toothed bar.

СNooooooo! Please, d-donТt, no, please d-d-d-donТtЕТ

СWatch then as your maid pays for her folly. The Emir has sentenced her to ride the SaddleЕ Study her torment well, perhaps it will be your turn nextЕТ RiaТs coaxing voice was thick with cruel pleasure as she cupped MoniqueТs chin, forcing her to look at the black iron saddle. For the first time Monique saw the metal bands dangling from each sideЕ and the circular iron ring set between the four uprights just below the saddle. A ring just the right size to hold the shallow bowl of charcoal now resting on a stone block to one side of the saddle.

СOh god, no, no you canТt, you canТt youТll kill her, no, no you canТtЕТ Monique screamed as she watched the thickset guards dragging the small struggling figure of her maidservant to the saddle. No ceremony, they simply held her arms and thighs and forced her to sit astride the curving metal seat. Nula screamed once as the hollow metal phallus slid up into her vagina then she was mounted on the diabolical device, thighs spread and legs dangling.

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One of the guards buckled a wide leather belt round the young girlТs waist. Monique watched helplessly as her maidТs wrists were locked into cuffs on each side of the belt. СHer fingers are so near her pain but she will be able to do nothingЕ nothing at all, it is delightful to watch.Т RiaТs voice purred in MoniqueТs ear. СNow the legsЕТ

As she spoke the guards brought the metal straps over the top of each of the maidТs thighs, clipping them so tightly that the flesh bulged over the thin steel strips. Finally, there were metal cuffs for each ankle before NulaТs legs were bent double at the knee so each cuff could be clipped to the back of the saddle. One of the man slapped Nula across her wide splayed buttocks before they marched back to take position, on guard behind the Emir once again.

Monique felt a final pinch on her breasts, and then the two women strolled across to the pinioned figure on the saddle. СAre you ready, little traitor?Т Monique heard Ria ask and saw the frantic shaking of the girlТs head and upper body as she flung herself about, straining to lift herself just a very little bit from the iron saddle, iron that would soon be heating slowly to roast the most sensitive places on her body.

Using tongs, Mena lifted up the shallow bowl of charcoal, making sure that Nula could watch as she carried it to the saddle. She held it in front of the screaming girl as Ria blew gently on the coals, the gray ash flying off so that the dull, red heat of the charcoal was clearly visible. Then Mena knelt, sliding the little bowl between the uprights until it rested in the circular holder. Now the charcoal bed was directly under the center of the saddle, the column of heat slowly warming the metal from below.

The two women returned to their places at the EmirТs feet and, for a few minutes there was near silence. All that could be heard was MoniqueТs panting gasps as she continued her ride of pain and the soft click and jingle of metal, on metal as Nula continued to surge and twist on the saddle. Monique could see that he maidТs fingers frantically stretching fingers could actually touch the crease of her thighs but she was quite helpless to move herself more than a tiny amount off the saddle in any way at all.

СIt usually takes a few minutes to become uncomfortable. After thatЕ well, you will see for yourselfЕТ The EmirТs voice was rich with amusement as he listened to the first sharp intake of breath, then the racing gasps of panic as the little maidservant began to feel the warmth of the iron between her thighs. The girlТs hands scrabbled wildly and her upturned feet flexed and twisted as she sought to move, even the tiniest amount, away from the increasing heat.

СHelp me, pleaseЕ Oh p-please, the heat, the heat itТs going inside, p-please AAAAArrrrrrggggggghhhhh!Т

СDid I not tell you that it is the iron man she rides on that gets hot firstЕ?Т The Emir giggled as he watched the mad writhings of the girl. СRemove the tray for a momentЕ let her enjoy the first touch of the coals before we continue.Т The woman called Ria, obviously the EmirТs favorite, picked up the tongs and walked over to the saddle where the girlТs screaming was now a high, continuous wail. She lifted the bowl out of the ring and placed it on the stone.

RiaТs long fingers found the peaks of NulaТs breasts as she stood behind the screaming maid. СYes, yes, it burns but now it will cool a littleЕ and then we will slip the bowl back again and you will feel it getting hot all over againЕТ She paused, deliberately tormenting the girl, Сbut this time you will be so sore it will be a thousand times worse. Shhh, save your voiceЕ you will need itЕ especially next time when we leave the bowl in place to heat the saddle properly.Т

She bent to listen to the babbling voice of the maid. СStop, why ever should we stop? This is a lesson for your mistress and you have only just begun to teach her the meaning of pain. See, on the veranda, Mena has turned a sand glass. Watch the sand my little one because I will replace the bowl when the sand has run throughЕТ

Nula screamed again, still twisting in her bonds, her eyes fixed on the tiny stream of golden sand falling through the glass bulb. Ria walked over to the container by the whipping frame and selected a thin, flexible rattan rod. She walked back to where Monique was still carefully rising and falling on the brass rail. СNow, letТs make you work a little harder on the mare, shall we?Т

СAaaaah! God!Т

Monique squealed as the stroke sliced across her bottom. Instinctively she reared up and then dropped back, the sudden agony of landing hard on the toothed rail wrenching a second anguished cry from her.

СThwackЕ thwackЕ thwackЕ thwackЕТ

The blows fell with an awful rhythm so that Monique writhed and wriggled madly, the toothed rail biting viciously into her cunt as each scalding stroke laced across the smooth tanned curves of her buttocks. Ria relished the sight of the French womanТs legs, outstretched and quivering with the awful effort of keeping her in position and as far off the brass bar as possible.

СAh, ah, no, no more, please, no, no, no!Т

СSo you wish a change, yes?Т Ria giggled as she let the thin rod rest on the ground. СVery well, let us try somewhere elseЕТ


СArrrggghhh! No, no not there, no pleeeassse!Т

Monique seemed to go mad, her whole upper body surging and twisting as the first cut took her across the nipples, the thin rod indenting the stiff, swollen peaks before they sprung back, MoniqueТs breasts swaying and bouncing madly as she tried to control the blazing agony of the weal crossing the peak of each breast


A wetter, flatter sound this time as Ria made the rattan curl across the wide pink aureoles. The effect was just as dramatic with the young French girl threshing against her bonds, quite heedless of the way the brass bar was working and cutting into her cunt as the fiery agony in her breasts overwhelmed her senses.

Ria had only time for three more strokes before the Emir clapped his hands once more, signaling that the last grains had run through the glass and that it was time for NulaТs torture to continue. СLet her ride the saddle properly this timeЕТ he said softly as Ria blew on the coals before placing the bowl back in the ring below the saddle.

This time the stillness was not so complete. Nula was still crying from the scorching effects of the first session whilst Monique was crying and babbling as she tried to regain some semblance of balance on her torturing rail.


The girlТs cry was a high, inhuman squeal as the iron saddle began to scorch and sear the inside flesh of her labia, the awful heat turning the impaling hollow shaft into a spear of pain. She bounced up and down madly in an ecstasy of agony as the saddle became unbearably hot beneath her. Lost in her own world of agony Monique heard, in the gaps in the manic gabbling squeals, the hissing noise as Nula lost control of her body, the stream of liquid trickling down the hot iron to drip unheeded onto the stone slabs below the saddle.

Monique could also see the trickle of blood from where her maid had bitten through her lip in agony, as well as the raw red circles at wrist and ankle where she had flayed the skin away in her frantic efforts to free herself from the blazing hell of the iron saddle. Nula was still twisting and turning, throwing her torso into wild contortions as her cunt was slowly roasted by the heat of the charcoal bowl beneath the saddle.

Monique was wondering just how much more the little maid could take when she gave a single, high-pitched shriek and her head fell forwards against her chest. From the shade of the veranda the Emir peered at the girl, noting how her chest was still rising and falling rapidly. He frowned, disappointed that his cruel pleasures had been cut short. СNo staminaЕ take her off! She can finish her ride later on.Т The guards hurried to free Nula from her torture saddle. She screamed once again as they pulled her free from the iron phallus and Monique saw the raw red skin of her upper thighs and puffy wetness of her labia as she was lifted clear of the saddle. Without ceremony they dropped the semi-conscious figure on the sandy ground before the Emir.

He looked at the girl and then to where Monique Desalle was still working herself up and down on the toothed torture of the Brass Mare. СUnsaddle that one too.Т He smiled and looked down at the two women at his feet, СAfter all, I have promised her to my little ones for their pleasure this afternoon and they would not wish her to be too exhausted. Put them both in the cells until we need them.Т

Still chuckling to himself the Emir rose and, accompanied by the two women, made his way back into the fortress…

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