Hoat takes Yennefer back to the theatre for a show

Yennefer shook her head slightly and pinched her eyes closed. It was like a fog had enveloped her mind making it nearly impossible to think straight or focus. Hoat's hand on her back led her forward and she complied, letting him guide her back into the theater they had walked through earlier that day.

This time the theater was bustling with activity, the stage was lit, she could hear voices coming from the once empty private booths, smoke hung heavy in the air. There was even music playing, a soft tune to help drown out the conversations and offer privacy to the people hidden away in their booths.

It had been hours since she last seen Ciri. Hoat had bound and gagged her, tying her hands behind her back before wrapping her body with a number of leather and metal straps. Three men had come soon after and escorted her from the room, leaving her alone with Hoat once again. After that it had been a blur as she floated through the rest of the day in a haze.

A group of women had come, and without a word and barely a look they had washed and bathed her, waxed and cleaned, done her hair and makeup. She had been left mostly alone after that, until Hoat had come to her to lead her to the theater.

Night had fallen and Lord Karlik's estate had come alive, it's secret theater booming with activity.

"What is this?" Yennefer asked, she turned looking down where Hoat now sat in a long cushioned seat that was more bed than a chair. Beside him sat a table filled with a variety of wines and liquors. She wondered if all the booths looked just like this one.

He regarded her, his eyes taking their time to run up and down her body. She had been stripped of her clothes, of her belongings only her choker remained. Instead, she had been dressed in little more than a few leather straps, looping under her breasts, around her neck, and around her waist, leaving almost every inch of her flesh exposed.

She had realized quickly that the straps weren't meant as clothing but something for the men to hold onto when they fucked her. The thought thrilled her more than she liked and sent a shiver down her spine to her core.

"My Lord has lived a long life and experienced nearly all it has to offer." Hoat began, he reached up pulling on her of straps until she was **** down to his level half sitting on the floor draped over the seat he was in.

"But he has particular tastes, and he likes to share those tastes with his friends, for a price."

Yennefer tried to look around but could hardly see anything out of her booth other than the stage.

"Privacy is valued of course," Hoat smirked, "But I can tell you that there is more money in this room than in all of Novigrad. With my help the Lord offers men something they will travel far and wide to see." he nearly laughed now, "The Academy expelled me for being a so-called pervert, imagine if they knew what the men that funded them did in their spare time."

Yennefer's brow furrowed but her attention was turned to the stage as the lights dimmed. A man walked out onto the stage.

"Gentlemen and ladies," he began, he was a tall man, wearing tall hat and dark tightly fitted suit. He gave a mock bow with a wide smile, he voice held the barest hint of a southern accent as he thanked the audience for attending. Yennefer's attention drifted as he continued to talk, playing up for a crowd she could not see, he was like a circus performer, prepping the audience for the upcoming show.

The wall of the booths came too far forward and stood too high for her to see anything to her left or right or even behind her, especially kneeling beside Hoat's chair, she shifted uncomfortably, a leather strap digging into her side, if she could just- Yennefer paused and she turned her attention back to the stage.

"She has fought her whole life, hunted and killed, kept our farmers and their families safe." The curtains behind the man began to pull back.

Yennefer watched transfixed as she saw what was behind the curtain. Ciri was tied up, bound to a flat wood table that had been covered with heavy thick cloth. Her arms behind her back, her mouth gagged her eyes blindfolded. She was bent over, her upper body and breasts pressed against the flat of the table. Her lower hanging free over the edge, supported by her legs.

Ciri grunted, her legs kicking out her head twisting around as best it could before she screamed into her gag. Yennefer watched memorized as the muscles in her back and thighs flexed and twisted as she tried to free herself. Years of training to be a witcher had done her well, leaving her body firm and tight, perfect for fighting, perfect for fucking.

Yennefer blinked at the thought, a moment of disgust rising up in her stomach before vanishing completely. Why was she fighting, she could think of nothing more she would like to be in her place, tied up and waiting to be fucked.

"Ciri's a special case, the women here don't normally come to us. Ciri though," Hoat whispered to her, his hand idly stroking Yennefer's hair. "Sometimes we like to relive the memory that brought her to us. I weaned her off the succubi essence, of course, to make it more realistic."

Yennefer turned back and watched as Ciri kick and moan in her gag, desperately trying to free herself.

"Unfortunately our last downer died three days ago, so we had to improvise."