She knows this is different. She doesn't know how to tell him that, not in a way he'll believe. Is he bluffing? He laughs at the look on her face. She doesn't think he's bluffing.

She would rather be gang-raped for six hours than die.

If the Emperor was watching, he wouldn't let that happen. But the Emperor doesn't seem to be watching.

It's hard to think while being violently raped.

What if they kill her anyway - no, they won't, the only use of trying to kill her is as a threat, it's just stupid otherwise - he will choke her to death with his cock if she doesn't do this, and she'll take any amount of rape over death, she knows that already.

The man fucking her ass finally finishes. The man who threatened to kill her with his cock moves to choke her with it again.

She twists away, losing some hair in the process, and bolts for the gate she came in by. Someone catches her after only a few steps. She struggles furiously. He laughs and gropes her breasts, which are already beginning to show bruises from the game of tug-of-war over the table; she moans in pain. He picks her up, more clumsily than the Emperor would have, and carries her back to the rug, where the one who threatened her is waiting. Laughing. Triumphant.

Niamira spits blood in his face.

He wipes it away and glares. "Give me that bitch," he says, reaching for her, and when he has hold of her he turns her around and shoves his cock into her ravaged ass. She whimpers. He fucks her viciously, angrily, driving his cock into her like a spear. There's no reason not to struggle now, so she does, and it only makes it hurt more; she is deliciously helpless. Her cunt throbs with need. Someone else starts fucking her mouth. She tries to pull away, but he has her by the hair. He finishes quickly; she barely has time to swallow his seed before another man replaces him. Meanwhile, the one she spat on is still fucking her ass, and it hurts more and more, and she sobs with pain around the cock in her mouth. She's lost track of how many men have raped her by now. A hot jet of seed paints her ribs.

Her ass feels raw; being fucked like this hurts as though she's being violated with a hard roll of coarse sandpaper. Was it worth it, to spit on him? Yes. He's going to make her suffer but he was going to do that anyway, and he won't kill her - the rest of them wouldn't stand for it.

She can barely see through tears of pain and shame. She hurts so much, and they're going to have her all day; it's only going to get worse from here. But she'll live. The important thing is that she'll live.

It feels like an endless procession of men grab her hair and fuck her mouth and pour their seed down her throat while the one she spat on is still violently raping her ass. She gasps and sobs and struggles fruitlessly, and he digs his fingers into her hips and grunts with effort and violates her again and again, brutally, mercilessly, until the pain is more than she thought possible, until she's too weak to keep fighting. She closes her eyes and lets them move her how they want, accepts the agony and humiliation, stops trying to pull away. They have her on all fours on the rug, her head pulled back to put her mouth where they can reach it, her bruised hips and bleeding ass still claimed by the man who got her to run. She is a thing for them to fuck, a vessel for their seed, helpless to resist, and she likes it that way.

When he finishes at last, lets go of her and moves away, she whimpers with relief around a mouthful of cock. Someone else lies down on the rug and pulls her over to him - the man fucking her mouth spills his seed over her face, and it gets in her eyes and stings awfully - she catches a blurry glimpse of the new man's enormous cock before he shoves it in her slick throbbing cunt. She moans with pain and desire. He fucks her hard and fast, his hands tight on her thighs, and for the first time today she feels her pleasure build toward release. Please, let him keep going, just a little longer, she wants it so badly - someone else starts fucking her mouth - she's shaking with pleasure, whining with need - she hopes they mistake it for pain, but they can't all be that stupid, they're going to know she likes it, they're going to know she lusts for rape -

Someone kneels behind her and presses his cock against her ass and her whole body goes rigid with terror. He thrusts, and the shock of pain is the worst yet, and she tries to scream but chokes on a spurt of seed, and she's helpless and violated and desperate and filled and overfilled and this, this is better than the Emperor, this pain and degradation, this gloriously awful feeling. Forced open painfully, raped in every way possible, she is so overcome with pleasure that she barely notices when one man is replaced by another. It's like being endlessly fucked by a single insatiable beast with a thousand cocks.

Eventually the tide of her pleasure begins to ebb, and they are still fucking her. She trembles with exhaustion, aching all over, and they are still fucking her. Anonymous hands pinch her breasts and buttocks, layering bruises on top of bruises, and her ass is rubbed so raw that the slightest touch is agony, and her cunt is not much better, and they are still fucking her. Her voice is gone; her head is spinning; her eyes are crusted shut; she has never felt more disgusting in her life, and for once instead of being desperate for violation she is desperate for rest, and still they continue to rape her in every available hole.

She will not have to worry that this is insufficient punishment.

They bring her to her hands and knees again, and she collapses immediately in a voicelessly whimpering heap, so they drag her off somewhere and bend her over a rough wooden crate. Someone forces his cock into her mouth and someone else claims her cunt, but they can't get a third one into her like this, so her ass enjoys a few minutes of blessed relief before the next man decides he wants it. It's worse for having had the break. Her breath comes in hoarse little sobs, and to her shame she finds there is a part of her that likes this too, even though she's too exhausted to enjoy it properly, there's still a kind of satisfaction in being raped until she climaxes and then raped past the point of exhaustion and then raped some more.

Unable to open her eyes, lost to the passage of time, she's startled when a gong rings out to signal noon. The two men fucking her finish quickly, and then they leave her where she is and go join their fellows for lunch. She lies there, draped over the crate, bruised and torn and utterly wrung out, and doesn't even bother trying to move.

It comes as a complete surprise when, barely a minute later, someone throws a coarse blanket over her and picks her up. "Lunch and a bath for you," he says. "And maybe a little healing if that doesn't pick you up by itself. They'll want you fresh for the afternoon."

She's not entirely sure she's capable of bathing herself without drowning, just now, but she also can't speak to object. He probably won't just dump her in a tub of water and leave. Probably.

He carries her for a little while, and then hands her off to a bath attendant with murmured instructions she is too dizzy and exhausted to hear. A door closes. The air is warm and humid. Someone unwraps the blanket and lowers her gently into warm water, keeping hold of her shoulders so she doesn't slip under and drown. Her eyes are still glued shut, but she thinks the room seems unexpectedly dark. The person holding her shifts their grip to free one hand, and runs that hand down her chest and stomach, slowly, intimately. Is the bath attendant a rapist too? At least they're a gentle one so far.

The person, whoever they are, climbs in the bath with her and strokes her body softly with gentle hands. She feels vaguely that it should take more than that, but somehow just a touch is enough to leave her skin clean and fresh. She winces when the hands move down between her legs, but it doesn't hurt at all when they slide their fingers into her cunt. A healer? No, wait - that touch is familiar -

"My lord," she whispers.

"Shhhh," says the Emperor's voice. "Don't try to talk yet. You look a lovely mess." He explores her with his fingers, first her cunt, then her ass. Her ass hurts, and she winces, hissing in pain. The Emperor chuckles. "I think I'll leave healing that for last," he says. His hands slide up her body again, and all her bruises melt away under his touch. He gives her throat a gentle squeeze, and that stops hurting too. Then he cups her face in his hands and pulls her head underwater.

It's the Emperor. If he wants her dead she will die. If he doesn't, she won't. She offers no resistance.

He strokes her face gently with his fingertips, cleaning that too by whatever strange magic he's been using. His hands tangle in her hair. It's getting hard to breathe. He lifts her up again, and she inhales and opens her eyes.

The first thing she sees is his face, a dim shape in the dark.

"Did you enjoy your morning?" he asks, with a hint of a smile.

"...I feel very punished, my lord," she says humbly.

"Don't be coy." He reaches between her legs and touches her with lifecraft.

She bites back a whimper at the sudden spark of pleasure. "Ah - I wanted it but I wanted you more," she says. "I wished it were you. I imagined it was you. When they were raping my ass, my empty cunt yearned for your cock."

"Well, that's certainly not coy," he says, drifting closer and scooping her into his lap.

She can feel his hard cock nudging her thigh. She wriggles, trying to get it where she wants it. Her exhaustion seems entirely gone. "Please, my lord, fuck me," she begs. "I need you inside me, please, please -"

With one hand around her throat, strangling her so she can't scream, he pulls her close and plunges his cock into her ass.

She arches her back, struggling helplessly. It's so awful and so good, better than anything the gladiators did to her - almost anything -

He lets go of her neck and breathes in her ear, "Tell me you want this."

"Oh, my lord, it hurts, it hurts so much," she whimpers. "I want it, I want you, please my lord, I like how you hurt me, I like how you rape me, I want you to fuck me just like this, hurt me, use me, leave me wanting -"

He gives her what she wants. Water splashes as he fucks her. It's brutal and painful and violent.

And then he finishes, and holds her, and heals her, and reaches between her legs to stroke her with lifecraft.

She's still relaxing blissfully into the long-awaited absence of pain when unexpected pleasure blooms under his touch. She throws her head back and moans, spreading her legs, shaking in his arms. The Emperor's magic fingers are amazing.

"Thank you, my lord," she gasps, "that's so good, oh fuck that feels so good, oh, oh, my pleasure is yours, oh, yes -"

He lets her writhe a little longer before he takes his hand away.

"I own you and I own your pleasure," he says. "Remember that."

"Yes, my lord," she sighs happily.

"Is that the best thing you've ever felt?" he asks, petting her damp and tangled hair. It unknots itself under his hands.

She opens her mouth to say yes, and thinks of the blissful agony of being gang-raped, and... hesitates.

His hands go still.

"If not that, then what?" he asks softly.

"I - when the gladiators had me, my lord," she says, shivering nervously in the warm water. "They - they fucked my ass until it bled, and then they had me on the ground with three men fucking me, in my ass and my cunt and my mouth, and it felt so bad and so good, it hurt so much and I was so - invaded, violated, full to bursting - it was the best and worst thing I'd ever felt. Better than anything you've done to me... yet. I have every faith you will surpass it, my lord."

"Good answer."

He holds her for a minute more in silence, and then moves her so his cock presses against her ass.

"Tell me you want it," he says.

She whimpers with fear.

"Yes my lord, please my lord, please rape my ass again, I'm terrified of it and I want it so much, please..."