The Akkadian is enslaved.

"No, you lie!" The Akkadian cried out, the declaration rousing him from his orgasm induced fugue. He scrambled to his knees upon the bed. "The whore's guild does not barter away it's contracts."

"In Al Areth everything has it's price." Trimon retorted. "They had no rule barring such a purchase, simply that it was seldom any could afford the price they demanded."

The assassin felt his blood run cold. Whatever else befell him at Trimon's whim he had been confident that he would be released to return to Minaja's guild once the mercenary was done with him. Though he had failed in his mission he had intended to return to the sorceress once free of the warlord's hold. Surely he could have explained his failure and been restored to his former body to attempt a more orthodox ****.

"I must speak to the guild mistress at once. This cannot be." The Akkadian leapt off the bed to his feet and rushed towards the door.

Trimon shot out a hand to grab at him, but he nimbly ducked below the meaty fist. Ignoring his nudity the Akkadian threw open the door, fully intending to flee naked through the streets of Al Areth. However as the door was opened a figure barred his exit. A woman stood grinning, her body braced and alert having no doubt heard the raised voices and commotion in the bedchamber. The Akkadian on the other hand with no expectation of her presence was surprised to find his exit blocked. Still he attempted to rush her, expecting to easily brush a mere woman aside in his flight. He bodycharged the woman only to rebound from her braced body back into the chamber. She stepped forward quickly as he was unbalanced and with a strong shove **** him back several feet and entered slamming the door behind her.

"Trouble Trimon?" The woman asked giggling. "Must I come rescue you from an enraged whore?"

The woman was dressed as a mercenary with bronze paldrons and bracers on her arms and shoulders, a leather jerkin sewn with bronze plates on her body. However the jerkin was clearly cut to be more revealing and resembled more a corselet and the woman's breasts were bared above the armour. Her legs were bare, but her shins had bronze guards and her feet were clad in sturdy leather sandals with crisscrossing straps. The woman was not unattractive, her face fair but lacking cosmetics to beautify her appearance. Her hair was long and dark, held back from her face by a simple leather headband. At her hip attached to a broad leather and bronze belt were the weapons and accoutrements of a slaver. A wicked looking knife almost the length of a shortsword, a bronze truncheon, coiled leather quirt and a forged iron linked slavechain.

"A timely entrance Rezma. It seems my dear Minaja is somewhat distressed that she will be staying with us." Trimon's amused voice came from behind the assassin. "This is Rezma of Shem Minaja. One of my company and newly promoted to be the mistress of my harem. She will be responsible for your wellbeing while in my service and ensure that none except those I allow make use of your fabled cunt."

"I demand to be taken to the guild mistress" The Akkadian wailed, turning to face Trimon and hating that his weakness and fear was revealed in his tremulous female screech.

"ENOUGH!" Trimon's voice rose, commanding and stern. "I weary of this childish defiance. Rezma, take this whore to her new quarters. Use whatever methods you see fit that do not mar her beauty to quell her rebellious pique."

The assassin felt a sandaled foot slam into the back of his knee as he faced Trimon breathing hard from fear and anger. With a scream his leg buckled and he fell to his knees. Rezma was on him in an instant, grasping his long hair and forcing him downwards to the carpeted floor. He felt a knee press against his back pinning him as his slim arms were seized and pulled roughly behind his back. He struggled against his captor but the woman was clearly practiced in slavetaking, his slender wrists were **** to cross and he felt a leather thong bind them tightly. Once his wrists were bound the weight of Rezma's body was removed from his back and he was pulled up by his hair into a kneeling position.

Trimon stepped close, a black leather **** collar with iron buckles and lock now in his hands. Moaning in frustration and humiliation the Akkadian felt the supple but sturdy collar wrapped around his slender neck. Trimon buckled it tight and with a small iron key locked it in place. Tears now flowed down the assassin's softs cheeks as the reality of his enslavement was made clear. He heard the jingle of chain links as Rezma freed the slavechain from her belt. A clasp at the end of the chain clipped onto the iron ring at the throat of his collar. The Akkadian's shoulders shook as he sobbed, a naked pleasure **** on her knees bound and collared.