The tightly bound Sophia moved far slower than she had imagined. For one who had lived in abstinence since childhood, every three steps made her unbearably sensitive below, so after walking a few dozen meters, she was already soaked. As a result, the silver shackles on her ankles hardly restricted her at all—aside from the very first few steps, she could barely take a stride anywhere near the maximum limit of the chains. Every step was little more than a powerless shuffle. Poor Isaac didn't dare to ask why, assuming this was simply another one of his mistress's peculiar pleasures.
By nightfall, they'd covered only half the distance they'd planned, so it looked like it would take until the next evening to reach Windleaf Town.
Isaac found a secluded spot, built a fire, and it seemed they'd have to camp here for the night.
Suddenly, Sophia's cloak unfurled beside her. The edge of the cloak formed a shape like an arrow, pointing toward Moonshine at Sophia's waist.
"Do you want me to use this sword?""Mmm." Sophia nodded. As a royal vampire, even a heavy head injury would not kill her, but this human was now her only hope of getting free, so she had to protect him.
"Thank you, Lady Dominax." Isaac unbuckled Sophia's sword from her waist and hung it on his own. Greedy, lustful, cowardly Isaac was so poor he didn't even own a sword; he'd joined the army just to scrape together some money. Now, by a twist of fate, he'd acquired the world's mightiest silver sword—something adventurers could only dream of their entire lives—though he himself had no idea how powerful it was, thinking it just an ordinary rapier.
"I will surely protect you with this sword, my lady." Although Isaac knew that if danger truly came, he'd be the first to run for his life—cowardice had been his flaw since childhood, and that was why his childhood friends Jules and Luc had become heroes while he remained a nobody. Still, he reasoned, nothing could possibly threaten a vampire woman who could wipe out a thousand soldiers and a grand mage in an instant. Isaac turned to look at Sophia—she was already lying down, fast asleep. Bloodwing was wrapped tightly around her body, and even under the cloak, her alluring curves were plain to see.
Isaac's other big flaw—lecherousness—manifested here. He stretched out his hand, wanting to touch those "forbidden places"—No! Isaac, are you insane? The thought of a thousand corpses made him break out in cold sweat.
Actually, if he had touched her, he probably wouldn't have come to any harm, because Sophia—was asleep.
Sophia had always lived a safe life; even though she'd faced dangers like ancient dragons, no one had ever successfully ambushed her. Most people couldn't even break through the defense of Bloodwing. Even now, if she were thrown into a wolf den, she could escape unscathed under Bloodwing's protection. And although vampires did not need to sleep (they could pass meaningless time, like the daytime, in a state of deathlike slumber), Sophia was not like "normal" vampires. Most vampires were created by another vampire's blood kiss, but she was unique: born a vampire to a human mother, the only one of her kind in the world. Because of this, she was even more sun-tolerant than other royal vampires, and could walk in the sun with almost no discomfort—hence the name "Daywalker."
Thus, her body retained a part of humanity: she didn't need to eat, drink, excrete, or breathe, yet if she refrained, she'd still feel fatigue and thirst, though these would not actually harm her as they would a human. Sleeping was a human instinct, so Sophia would also perform this unnecessary act, and she slept especially soundly—so soundly that not even a bomb exploding nearby could disturb her dreams.
Isaac, meanwhile, had no soft Bloodwing for a bed or blanket, but being a nobody, he didn't care. He just lay down and went to sleep.
Because Sophia was such a heavy sleeper, she slept until noon the next day, and timid Isaac didn't dare make any "outrageous" moves, simply waiting for her to wake.
Thanks to yesterday's ordeal with the crotch rope, today Sophia could finally take steps as long as the shackles allowed, no longer becoming utterly soaked after a few paces. But the biggest problem wasn't even below—it was her bladder! Yesterday, before seeing the goblin merchant, she'd drunk a huge bottle of wine, and now her bladder was full to bursting. She couldn't pee, and though not peeing wouldn't cause her any harm, it was unbearably uncomfortable! She couldn't bring herself to go: partly because it would shatter her icy, fearsome image in Isaac's mind, and partly because her mother had drilled into her that peeing while dressed was utterly uncivilized. And her precious panties—these weren't conjured by magic, but bought from an elf for forty gold! She didn't want her fine underwear to reek of urine. Luckily, she'd barely eaten, so there was no fear of other needs. So, now able to move at the limit of the shackles (though she still needed breaks because her lower body was so oversensitive), they arrived at Windleaf Town at 9 p.m.
Their pair looked just like a noblewoman in fine dress with her servant—even without the lavish Bloodwing or the gold-embroidered headscarf, Sophia's eyes alone were enough to mark her as high nobility, and Isaac clearly looked the part of the servant. Indeed, their relationship wasn't far off.
Windleaf Town had already settled into night. The two entered the inn.
Seeing a noblewoman who looked straight out of the capital, the innkeeper was determined to fleece them. But the one paying was not the tightly bound Sophia, but poor Isaac, who haggled like the country bumpkin he was, bartering the price of a room down from three gold coins to thirty copper. Isaac was so stingy he booked a single room—ordinarily, a servant and lady would at least get a double room, ideally two rooms. The innkeeper gave Isaac a strange look, as if trying to figure out which family's servant was so bold, and vowing to report him to the master or extort the lady. And if the lady preferred to pay with her body—so much the better!
With eight centuries of experience, Sophia saw through the innkeeper's schemes at a glance—another scumbag unworthy of her bite. But never mind, she and Isaac went upstairs.
In the room, Sophia, still wearing shackles, kicked Isaac off the bed and lay down herself. The edge of Bloodwing pointed to the floor, telling Isaac where he was to sleep.
"Y-yes, my lady…" Isaac reluctantly made a pallet on the floor, exhausted, and went to sleep.
But neither Isaac nor the necklace-dampened Sophia noticed: as they entered Windleaf Town, they'd already been spotted.
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Midnight.
Duang! The door to their room was kicked open as the two slept. Isaac awoke to find a group of bandits barging in, one pressing a knife to his throat.
"Don't move, little servant, we're only here to tie up your mistress!" the leader sneered.
Isaac couldn't help laughing—they clearly had no idea what Sophia was capable of, so he didn't resist.
The bandits hefted the sleeping Sophia, mystified by a lady who slept in a cloak and veil, but thinking nothing of it. They simply bound her cloak and tied her up on the outside (not realizing the beauty within was already tightly bound) and, like carrying a beautiful woman in a sleeping bag, slung her over their shoulders—this woman taller than most of them—and quickly left the inn, planning to make this noble lady their plaything.
Half-awake, Sophia sensed hands touching her. Even in her deep sleep, she began to wake.
Isaac, you bastard, don't touch me like that. Drowsily, she tried to say this, forgetting she still had a gag in her mouth, so it came out as:
"Mmmph mmph, mmmph mmmph mmmph, mmph mmph ah!"
"Hmm?" Where am I? Sophia finally woke up, realizing she was lying horizontally, with two burly men at her front and rear, hoisted on their shoulders, and two more walking at her sides, their hands wandering all over her body.
Extremely sensitive to sexual stimulus, Sophia immediately began panting through her gag.
"Damn, no wonder you wear a veil, lady—you and your servant must be into some kinky play, gagged in public?" The bandits only now realized what was up, "I bet you're tied up under that cloak too, right? We only tied the outside—if you were able, you'd have fought back already."
You mortals are truly fearless. Sophia wasn't alarmed; she joked as usual, though her words, muffled by the gag, came out as:
"Mmmph mmph mmph, mmmph mmph!"
"Haha, lady, don't bother trying to call for help. No one will hear you." One bandit slapped her ass. The blow was absorbed by Bloodwing, doing nothing. Then the bandit grabbed and squeezed her round, springy butt.
"Mmmph!" Sophia moaned, probably the first time in centuries she'd had her ass groped—and by humans, no less. For her, it was as humiliating as a human woman being fondled by a pig… Heh, you mortals, enjoy my perfect body while you can—soon you'll all be dead.
Though she was calm on the surface, Sophia's subconscious was raging. She'd never had much sexual experience, so her body was intensely sensitive. And while she liked playing around, it was because she had set her own "rules"—that is, on an adventure, she could make exceptions for all kinds of surprises, or else it wouldn't be fun. But on any other occasion, if anyone dared treat her this way, she would have killed them instantly. Still, her subconscious worked like any ordinary person's—chastity was precious, and being touched like this was intolerable. So her body resisted in line with her subconscious—as much as a helpless, bound woman could. And the special bondage meant that every struggle tightened the ropes on her chest and crotch, making her most sensitive places feel even more shameful, which only made her struggle more, a vicious cycle.
Damn you filthy perverts, how could you defile my noble body? Don't touch me there! I am the highest of the high, you are but livestock to us vampires—no, stop! Why does it feel so good? No! Don't! Let me go!—these, roughly, were the thoughts running through Sophia's mind. Her reason and her subconscious fought, at times calm and indulgent, at times as fiercely resisting as a noble virgin, endlessly stimulating her and filling her with shame.
As she continued to moan and struggle, Sophia was carried into a derelict watchtower, with a few more bandits standing lookout outside. "Wow, you brought the beauty back so quickly?"
"There's more—she was already tied up and gagged before we got her!"
"What? There's luck like that in the world? You guys play first, I'll stand guard—then I'll have my turn with this slut!"
At the word "slut," Sophia's subconscious finally overwhelmed her cool facade, and she realized she was about to be used by these men, utterly powerless to resist. She glared at each man with her vampiric eyes, her irises turning red as she tried to invoke her bloodline powers—but her powers were sealed, so only her irises changed color. Still, it was enough to spook them; Sophia's aura was so fearsome that even kings would tremble before her at full force. But after a few minutes, lust overcame fear, and the bandits convinced themselves her bloody gaze was just her last desperate resistance—a burst of anger causing the capillaries in her eyes to redden, not some supernatural power.
Watching these fools delude themselves with lust, Sophia was burning with rage. If not for the damned collar, her glare alone would have slaughtered them all. But now she—
—was thrown onto the watchtower's bed.
The bandits untied the ropes on the outside of Bloodwing. Bloodwing made a token effort at resistance, but with its power reduced to that of an ordinary man by the collar, the bandits easily pried it off (too lust-blind to wonder why a cloak could move) and tossed it aside, severing its connection to Sophia and rendering it useless, exposing her tightly bound body.
"See, didn't I say so? Lady, you really are a pervert—letting your servant tie you up like this."
"Lady's even wearing a collar. Are you your servant's little bitch?"
"Did she walk all this way in shackles?"
Listening to these taunts, Sophia couldn't hold back anymore, cursing them in her mind, though all that came out was "Mmmph mmmph mmmph!"
The bandits pressed themselves against her bare skin. Was she really about to be raped by these filthy mortals…?
One tried to tear open her bodysuit—of course he couldn't. Then he drew a dagger, but even that could only do limited damage to the top-tier leather; he had to slowly cut away. But the vibration of the blade against her crotch, together with the crotch rope, brought Sophia—abstinent and ultra-sensitive since childhood—her first orgasm in centuries.
"Mmmph mmmph! Mmmph mmph mmph!" Sophia writhed, overwhelmed by the intensity, and lost control of her bladder, urine mixing with her juices just as the bandit cut through, both fluids spilling onto his hand.
"Ah, so desperate for it, lady? You came and pissed yourself at the same time?" The bandit looked at the fluids, smeared them on Sophia's face.
"Mmmph mmph mmph!" Sophia was mortified, furious, and helpless. In a flash of anger, she kicked the dagger-wielding bandit square in the groin. Her hand-to-hand skills weren't on the level of her swordsmanship or magic, but among humans, she was in the top 30-50 in technique. Even with her strength reduced and her legs chained, she knew how to use her body. Both legs together, so one wouldn't trip the other, she landed a precise, forceful blow—shattering both his testicles.
"AAAAAAAHHH!" The bandit collapsed, clutching his groin.
The other two bandits jumped on Sophia, beating her viciously. For a vampire, it was little more than a tickle, but it deepened Sophia's shame—she was the highest of vampires, now abused like a human slave in a vampire castle, tied, humiliated, and about to be raped by the lowest of men.
Bandits were nothing if not treacherous; neither paid any mind to their fallen comrade. One stripped off his pants and aimed his cock at the hole his brother had cut, while the other tore off her veil and scarf, removing the gag to force her to use her mouth.
"Don't you dare bite me, or I'll string you up and whip you like a noble slut!" The man was not completely crazed—he remembered his poor friend.
"You beast—you want to die—fine…" Sophia's angry retort was cut off as she pretended to submit. With eight centuries' experience, she knew if she wanted to avoid further humiliation, she couldn't let anger cloud her judgment. She was one of the world's most powerful beings, so even as rage boiled within her, she quickly composed herself. This, she knew, was her chance.
As the bandit put himself in her mouth, her vampire fangs shot out five centimeters, piercing his cock.
That organ, already engorged, channeled all its blood straight into Sophia's fangs—together with semen and a bit of urine.
In a second, Sophia drained him dry—her first time in years drinking blood by biting a living man. It was filthy, both physically and mentally, as she absorbed all his fantasies of rape and abuse—like starring in her own degrading porn.
Royal vampires did not need blood to live, provided they could control their cravings; otherwise, prolonged abstinence could lead to great suffering or even madness, but Sophia had long since conquered the bloodthirst. Drinking blood was, to her, like a human enjoying fine cuisine, not a beast gorging itself out of need.
With that disgusting bandit dead, the other, still physically intact, was so terrified by the sight that he lost his erection. Seconds ago, his friend had been trying to penetrate; now, there was only an empty skin. Sophia realized as she fed that, while the collar suppressed her stored magic and bloodline powers, the energy from freshly absorbed blood—before being internalized—was not yet restricted by the collar. Using this raw energy, she created a small field around the collar, temporarily nullifying its effects.
Her terrifying vampire gaze fell on the bandit, who lost his will, falling entirely under her bloodline's permanent mind control. His soul would suffer endless torment, never knowing peace. This was the Dominax family's supreme bloodline power: Soul Domination. The Dominax vampires could sense and read souls; what she'd done to Isaac before was merely its most basic use. Full spiritual domination was far more potent than any psychic or magic mind control, and the ultimate form—Soul's Gaze—would turn her irises to blood red; any being who saw those eyes would have their soul bound to Sophia forever, never to be freed.
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Ten minutes later.Out in the wilderness outside the watchtower.
The six remaining bandits, including the one Sophia had kicked, all lay limbless and castrated on the ground. Their wounds did not bleed—they had been drained of all blood. Yet they lived, under a special necromantic curse: deprived of all blood, they would not die so long as their brains were intact, but would endure the agony of a mummified, limbless, sexless existence forever. The one who had fallen under her domination was transformed by magic into a bloodless eunuch pig—for to vampires, humans were livestock, and this one was the lowest of the low.
The blood of the eight bandits was enough to create a solid field that could suppress the collar's power for some time. Ordinary mages and vampires could never manage such a feat, but Sophia was a master of blood magic, able to channel the energy directly to counteract the collar. Still, time was short; she needed a plan. She couldn't untie the ropes, but maybe she could deal with the shackles. There was a basic spell, called Knock, popular among adventurers as a way to open locks—some, like Sophia, called it Unlock.
Sophia looked at her shackled feet and cast Unlock on the ankle cuffs. As expected, even the most powerful mages' Unlock spells could do nothing to shackles designed to imprison high-ranking vampires.
Sophia gave a slight smile. "Heh… as expected. But would I, the Lady Dominax, be at a loss here?"
Sophia cast one of the most supreme spells in existence: Supreme Unpuzzle. This was a peerless, pinnacle-tier magic—by definition, there could be nothing more powerful. And "Unpuzzle" did not just unlock locks, but dispelled any kind of puzzle or binding, unless countered by magic of the same rank. How many beings in the world could match Sophia's magical prowess? One or two dragons, a few special beings, a couple of entities from outside this world, perhaps a handful of demigods, one elf—But among the livestock humans kept for vampires to eat? Zero.
Though her hands were still bound, Sophia managed to cast the spell via somaticless casting. Even so, she encountered immense magical resistance.
Sophia sensed that Supreme Unpuzzle was working, but she had to defeat the shackles' magical resistance first. She focused and, with another somaticless cast, unleashed a spell burst to battle the resistance. Pouring in an immense amount of magical energy, she could feel the collar's suppression field—created from the energy of the bandits' blood—beginning to fail. She pushed herself harder, channeling all her remaining magic into the contest.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!!
A massive explosion burst out at her location, creating a crater more than a meter in radius and about half a meter deep. The shockwave blasted part of the already-ruined, decaying watchtower, causing some of the bricks to collapse. While the area wasn't enormous, the magical confrontation was extremely loud! Everyone in Windleaf Town, including Isaac, heard the blast.
Sophia's shackles were, without question, blown open. The supreme archmage's supreme spell had utterly overwhelmed the shackles' feeble enchantments.
But the force of the magic struggle left Sophia wracked with pain. This wasn't a destructive attack spell—her feet, though at the epicenter, remained physically intact, just numb from the blast. Not that she worried; even if her feet were blown off, as an undead vampire she'd simply regrow them—regeneration was common to all vampires.
But the problem was, her clothes—except for the ropes and the collar—were gone, obliterated by the blast. Even her undergarments, each of which had cost her forty gold from the elves, were destroyed! In this moment of crisis, Sophia was actually worrying about her pretty clothes… the mark of a true noble lady. She shrugged—she could always buy more later; after all, she had plenty of money.
Now, with both her lower legs numb, Sophia lay face down on the grass outside the tower, her enormous breasts pressing uncomfortably into the rough ground, making her highly sensitive body squirm. She'd spent all her magic and was utterly drained. With her hands still bound and unable to move her legs, she could only crawl on the ground like a worm. She noticed, despite the explosion, the gag she'd just removed and the ankle shackles—though at the very center of the blast—were completely unharmed, not even scratched! This convinced her that brute force could never break them. Her decision to use the supreme spell had been right. If she'd tried strength, the field suppressing her collar would have failed long before she could break free.
However, that magic contest had let her gauge the power of the shackles' counter-enchantments. They weren't especially strong by her standards—overpowering them directly would have been possible, if not for the time limit on the field generated from the bandits' blood, and the fact that the collar suppressed both her magic and bloodline powers. Once the field faded, she'd lose access to all magic again.
Moreover, with her arms bound behind her and forced to use somaticless casting, her spellcasting was about two-thirds weaker, and even her supreme spell was only half as effective. In a rush, Sophia had poured all her power into the duel, which led to the massive explosion. Now the collar's field was gone, and her powers sealed again.
The explosion had even caused the magical ropes to absorb some magical energy, tightening them further. The bindings at her elbows were now so tight her forearms were pinned together, her back arched, forcing her to push out her huge chest in an even more humiliating posture.
For a human, being elbow-bound for over thirty minutes would cause injury. But for a vampire, who could regrow limbs, it was nothing.
Except, for Sophia, it was a problem. Her human side meant she could feel pain very keenly (just as she felt hunger and fatigue), and she hated the idea of cutting off her limbs to escape, especially since the collar's suppression made magic impossible anyway. She had always been a pampered lady, never forced to struggle for survival. Her willpower was strong in combat—she could bear having most of her body destroyed—but willpower isn't the same as pain tolerance. Right now, her elbows and arms felt numb and sore, just like a delicate human girl.
Worse, without her leather armor to buffer it, the rope now pressed directly against her bare flesh. These special anti-vampire ropes felt like being bound with electrified, chili-oiled cords—a "stimulating" experience.
And worst of all, the blast had also caused the crotch rope to tighten even more, and with her clothes now destroyed, it bit directly into her sensitive petals. The skin there was even more delicate, and the holy rope kept her gushing.
"Uhh… uhh… uhh… this is so awful… my thighs… I can't even tense them…" Sophia realized her meaty thighs were clamped together, quivering with every involuntary twitch. That explosion was so loud—if anyone came to investigate and saw her like this, she'd be ruined! She had to get away!
Her eyes fixed on Bloodwing, which had been dropped nearby. She couldn't control it at range, but if she could touch it, she could still use it!
"Damn it… I'm a princess, and here I am crawling like a bug…" Sophia cursed as she squirmed, wormlike, across the grass. The rough ground scraped her impossibly pale, tender skin—her massive breasts and the petals between her legs most of all. The stimulation made her moan, and her hands, nails painted in exquisite violet polish, clenched and unclenched as if under torture.
"Uhh… uhh… ahh… damn weeds… how dare you rub against my sacred breasts—ah!" Sophia moaned as she squirmed, her crotch leaving a slick trail across the grass, soaking the same plants that had tormented her.
It took ages, but she finally reached Bloodwing. With her touch, control returned. The collar still prevented her from flying, but she could at least have Bloodwing drag her like a snake—or rather, more like a worm—to a safer place. She couldn't cloak herself completely, but Bloodwing could still change color to blend into the grass.
If not for the collar, even with her legs blown off, a royal vampire could regrow them in minutes.
But with the collar's suppression, she had no idea when feeling would return to her legs—it wasn't coming back yet.
Bloodwing, under her direction, also collected the shackles and gag—she didn't want them falling into anyone else's hands, least of all Isaac's.
Bloodwing dragged her to a tree and disguised itself as roots and grass. Sophia, exhausted, fell into a deep sleep.
When was the last time I got hurt?Maybe centuries ago!!! The last time was fighting the time dragon king Archion! Even fighting demon kings, she'd barely been scratched!
Now here she was, forced to crawl like a worm…Isaac, you bastard, where are you now!!!