You have to see if they need help.

Part of you begs you to just jump, that it is a trap, but with all you have seen you just have to at least take a look. “Awe fuck, I’m supposed to be some kind of hero right.” You say and turn back trying to be as quiet as possible. You follow the whimpering sound through two doorways and down a hall till you reach a door that is nearly shut. You stealthy push the door open and slip in.

“I’ll take that.” Reginald says and yanks the circlet off your head. The chaos of this place attacks your mind and body causing you to grab your head as if to help hold you together. Thankfully the knowledge that your name is Ashlyn seems to be working and you don’t change. “How cute you think you are an elven warrior princess.” He casts a spell and your mind erupts with words screaming at you telling you that you are human, that you are a plaything, a place for someone to put their seed and nothing more, you aren’t sexy, you don’t even deserve hair, or breasts, or femininity, you are nothing, you are weak, you live to serve, yet you aren’t even assigned chores as you are to stupid and weak to be of use, all that is asked of you is for you to be available for a guest or passerby to fuck, to beat down if he so chooses, to even kill if that is their mood, for you are less than nothing.

Wave after wave assaults your mind and you try to fight as he relieves you of your weapons and what little clothing you have. You can feel his hands on yours as he forces you to your knees. He grabs each wrist in turn and ties them to your ankles so your face is on the ground and your ass is in the air. He then takes you forward and sets you on a wooden sloped plank, your neck set into a cut out section. He then clamps a wooden block down around your neck locking you in place. “It is called a guillotine, whenever you want you can pull this rope and it will slice off your head.” He ties a loop of rope around your right hand. “Till then I think I shall allow all of my men to have their way with you. Once I’m finished with your tight little ass.” His thumb invades your hole. You squirm a bit and hear a click. “Careful, your twisting just released the safety catch, it won’t take much more to set it off.” He laughs wickedly.

His mental **** on your mind over your wits slowly return, gone are all the memories and skills of the sexy elf princess, you can’t even remember her name. You are only a useless ****.

He begins to have his fun, your ass lets you know, a spark lights up in your head, it sort of accepts the chaos and it is a little easier to think. A name starts flowing into your mind as you try to hold back the chaos and think of a way to get out of this without your head being removed. Tara, yes he is so sure you are just another useless **** he never even suspected that you are in fact Tara an assassin sent here to end his existence, **** for Ashlyn, the elven princess and daughter of Galen, the man that paid you well to be here. Memories of past jobs flow into your mind as does the knowledge that you actually quite enjoy anal sex. You bite your lip to stifle the growing pleasure he is giving you, worried that the moisture building in your tight pussy and the squealing in delight you are eager to do will let him know his plan has a deadly flaw. You also remember that everything in this room is a creation of his magic, created by spells that if canceled by say a field of anti-magic, they would all vanish. It also just so happens that you can create such a field, it lasts but an instant, but that is more than enough time that even if his magic is strong enough that it reappears after your spell, you will be free.

Just as he finishes and his warm seed flows into you, the sharp sounding single word that casts the spell barks harshly from your mouth. The guillotine, ropes, and many other furnishings of the room disappear, leaving behind only a drab dirty stone room in a state of disrepair you weren’t actually expecting. You slide from under him and leap to your feet. He falls forward and everything springs back into being. While you aren’t able to time all of this so perfectly to catch him in the head restraint, he does hit his chin hard enough to give you a half second to react just a bit faster than he does. You dive and yank the rope, the blade slams down, and his right hand he was using to haul himself up with falls on the floor.

“Bitch!” He screams and tries and sadly fails to cast a spell. You wrap the rope around his neck quickly and brace with your rather cute bare feet and basically stand on him pulling hard as you can before he looses consciousness and all of the magic is again negated. He falls to the floor and you land catlike beside him. Your eyes scan the room and the gun and blade you had are nowhere to be found, they must also have been created by magic. The evil looking twisted dagger at his waist is still there and you pull it out.

Your ability to read the history of objects fires instantly, a sad drawback to your psychic ability as this can happen in the presence of strong trauma. You watch in an instant as this hateful dagger is used in the ritual **** of so many by his hand. There is no way you could ever keep such a thing, “Here, I decided I didn’t want it after all.” You say and give it back to him in a manner he would have protested had he been awake. You leave the room empty handed, yes, but as the pool of blood widens you know many lives will be saved.

A nagging memory of someone trying to get you to jump out a window tugs at your mind. You see a secret door in the wall, perhaps something good lies beyond.