The Prisoner

Negana tried to run but there were too many of the Holy Order surrounding her. All of her guards, Amber, Onyx, even Gerwald had been defeated and she was alone. Apart from probably fifty or sixty enemy fighters. She looked around for Ted. She caught a glimpse of him behind the throng, but he made no move to help her.

‘What do we do now?’ The man behind her asked somebody.

‘I guess we take her to Denaasi?’

The crowd was disorganised, it was clear they had not expected to take the leader of the enemy forces prisoner so quickly. While they tried to reach a course of action Negana tried to pull her hands out from the knot of her cloak, but it was tied too tightly.

The crowd parted slightly and she found herself being jostled toward the gap. She tried to make a break for it again, managing to get away from the people holding her but immediately running into more hands which grabbed her shoulders and waist.

‘Stop fucking running off!’ yelled one of them. Then to the group: ‘Anybody got something we can tie her up with?’

They made a show of patting their pockets and came up with nothing. ‘How about her cape?’ asked one.

‘No, her hands are tied up in that. I need something for her legs.’

‘The straps on her armour?’

‘Oh, maybe.’ Hands reached under her cape and pulled her breastplate off. This turned out to be useless as the straps couldn’t be tightened enough. She didn’t like being in the middle of this huge crowd without her armour on; she suddenly felt quite ****.

‘I’ve got an idea,’ said a man behind her. Negana felt hands under her skirt, feeling around for the waistband of her underwear. ‘Wait, no,’ she managed to say. Then her black bottoms and white panties were yanked down, guided over the tops of her boots and to her ankles.

Another person stepped in. ‘No, that won’t work. Let me do it. Lay her down on her front.’

They were careful laying her on the grass at least. Somebody lifted her feet while several others held her torso and arms, and she was powerless to resist being taken to the floor. Her cheek rested in the dirt, she could feel grass on her bare pussy. Probably, she thought, her skirt had ridden up at the front. She hoped her bottom was still covered but there was nothing she could do about it if all these people were looking at her bum.

Her cape was undone from around her neck and her feet pulled up to her hands. Her cloak, which already held her wrists tightly together, was undone from her neck then wrapped and tied around her ankles. She looked around in panic as her captors stood back to admire their work. Her white knickers were on the ground a little way off. ‘No, my panties!’ she called out.{If Tom = 1} She looked upward and recognised Tom, the Holy Order fighter she had met yesterday.{else} She looked up to see a man staring at her.{endif} He crouched to pick them up and walked over to her. ‘Oh, thank you,’ she started to say before the gusset was placed between her lips and the waistband pulled tight behind her head where it was tied as a gag.

Negana struggled against her bonds but found she couldn’t stand, or free her arms or legs. She could only roll onto her side, but with her ankles pulled back and tied to her hands she could do nothing more.

‘Look at her cunt!’ somebody called out, laughing. The front of her skirt was still up over her stomach. A couple of the onlookers covered their eyes, embarrassed, but most laughed and pointed. Several produced phones from somewhere in their armour and took photographs of the Evil Queen as she lay in the dirt exposing herself.

‘Okay, genius, how is she going to walk now?’ she heard somebody shout.

‘We can carry her, fuckwit.’

There were hands all over her again as she was lifted, seemingly as light as a feather. Her face was to the sky, and she managed to look down at herself. She still had her black top on at least, but her skirt was uselessly covering her navel rather than her bits. Her shoulders were supported by several pairs of hands. She was being held by her knees and thighs at each side so her legs were spread wide. Other hands held her middle up, fingers pressing into the soft bare flesh of her bottom.

It was like this, gagged with her own underwear, hogtied, legs open, pussy exposed, that the most powerful sorceress in the world left the battlefield.