Wheel of Time – Enslaved by the A'dam 2 By Kylix

M/M, bdsm, NC, whipping, humil

This is kinda like a fanfiction of The Wheel of Time. No copyright infringement intended. As a work of fiction, names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Glossary

One Power, the Source, Saidin, Saidar – Source of energy which channelers can tap. The Power is drawn from the male and female halves of the Source, Saidin and Saidar respectively. 5 different elements (Air, Water, Earth, Fire, Spirit) can be drawn from the Power, and subsequently woven together to produce tangible effects.

A'dam - a silver collar attached to a bracelet. The collar effectively makes the channeler a slave of the leash-holder.

Damaro / damane – male / female channeler who is enslaved

Marath'damaro / marath'damane – free male / female channeler yet to be enslaved

Morul'dam / sul'dam – male / female leash-holder who controls the damaro

Der'morul'dam / der'sul'dam – senior male / female leash-holder ------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 5

Joran hissed in pain as he knelt down in front of the washbasin. The dried mud on his body pulled at his skin, causing the invisible welts to sting with a vengeance. Even worse, his hole felt like it was splitting apart. He didn't even want to think about his balls, which were throbbing with a sharp ache.

Joran tried to ignore the pain as he ran the wet towel across his unblemished skin. Halvate was right, there was no physical damage. Yet the pain was unmistakeably real. Joran winced as he pulled at another invisible welt again. For a moment bleak despair overtook him. Was this what he had to look forward to for the rest of his long life? Punished for every mistake, denied any luxury, and worst of all, denied control of Saidin? Just holding the Power was intoxicating. A couple of hours without it and already he missed it terribly.

Despite his best efforts, a tear slipped out of the corner of his eye. He didn't hold out any hope that anyone would rescue him. His best friend had betrayed him, and his son Dorian was too young and inexperienced. Dorian would only get himself captured if he attempted a rescue. Besides nobody would have any way of tracking him down. He hadn't had the foresight to bond anybody, not that he had anyone to bond to in the first place. Dorian's mother had been a wench he had bedded one night and not met until she delivered Dorian to the Black Tower. He had paid her off with gold and that was that.

"Why'd you stop?" Halvate's deep voice asked flatly from across the room.

Joran started. He had stopped washing himself while lost in his thoughts. Belatedly Joran resumed his scrubbing. The water was turning brown from all the mud on his body, but the warm towel felt soothing against his battered body. From behind him he could hear Halvate getting out of the water and walking over to where he was.

Joran eyed the bracelet hanging on the wall, fully expecting his captor to seize it and start punishing him again. To his surprise, Halvate did, but unexpectedly there was no sharp flare of pain.

Joran turned and cast a sidelong glance at the dripping boy behind him. The first thing he noticed was that Halvate was a lot more muscular that he had thought. Joran belatedly realized that it was only his face that looked really boyish. The boy's body - a young man's, really - rippled with muscles which glistened wetly in the flickering light of the torch.

"Come," Halvate ordered as he tugged on the leash. Joran suppressed the urge to jerk his neck away. He was curious as to what Halvate was doing. Why wasn't he punishing him already?

It turned out that Halvate only wanted Joran to get in the tub. Joran acquiesced, thinking that Halvate was done with it, but was shocked when he felt the younger man sliding in behind him.

Joran immediately stood up and tried to climb out of the tub, but he didn't expect the leash to draw up short. Nearly choking, he fell back into the tub against Halvate's solid body with a great splash.

"What are you doing?" Halvate exclaimed, wiping the water away from his eyes.

"Shouldn't I ask what you are doing?" Joran retorted. Halvate had reached out to grab Joran when he fell, and now Joran's back was pressed up uncomfortably along the length of Halvate's body.

"I'm trying to wash you! Now stop struggling!" Halvate commanded. There was a warning squeeze on his balls, before Joran stilled and stopped his struggling.

Joran stiffened as Halvate ran his hands all over his body. Halvate's 'washing' was slow and languorous, occasionally kneading Joran's muscles, but the warm tub really was too small for two men to share it comfortably. As a result Joran only got more and more uncomfortable the more Halvate tried to clean him. He was practically sitting in Halvate's lap, his back pressed up against Halvate's well toned pecs and abs, and his lower back sliding up and down against a rigid rod that he knew could only belong to Halvate. Yet despite his discomfort and aches, the entire experience was so arousing that Joran found himself sporting a raging hard-on.

Joran groaned unwittingly when he felt fingers knead his nipples gently. He reddened and clenched his fists when he realized what had happened.

"Like it, don't you? Unfortunately for you the a'dam is also a chastity device," Halvate whispered in his gravelly low voice.

Joran whipped his head around so fast that droplets of water flew into Halvate's eyes. He shifted to properly face Halvate, then demanded in a high-pitched voice, "What?!"

Halvate only chuckled. Now that he was almost nose to nose with the younger man Joran realized just how disconcertingly young Halvate looked. With his smaller stature, Halvate looked like an extremely buff 14-year old on the cusp of manhood. The 40-year-old Joran felt a pang of humiliation at being collared and enslaved to such a young boy, but he quickly stifled that emotion.

"Isn't it clear enough? Every bit of pleasure you can obtain must be earned. If you please me, I will let you find release. Displease me..." Halvate let the sentence hang in the air unfinished, but the threat was clear.

Joran's mind was a blank buzz. Even with the pleasure from holding the Source he had never gone a day without jacking himself off. It seemed as if channelling Saidin made his libido shoot through the roof along with the slowing of his body's age. It was no wonder so many Asha'man dallied about resulting in many unexpected accidents.

And now, no release...?

Halvate must have sensed Joran's disbelief, for he smirked. "Why don't you try pleasuring yourself now? In fact, let me help you with it." Contrary to Joran's expectations, Halvate started stroking his own modestly sized 7 incher instead.

Joran gasped, a whimper of ecstasy escaping his throat. Not only did he feel every stroke Halvate was doing, the pleasure seemed to be magnified ten times more intense than usual. And Halvate was not even touching Joran!

A wave of pure pleasure took over Joran as his eyes rolled up in his head. This felt better than the best fuck he had ever had, and he didn't want it to end. He could feel himself rapidly approaching the climax, and his hand drifted over to his own 11 incher which was sticking out red and full to bursting in the warm bathwater.

"Ow!!" Joran screamed as what felt like lightning shot through his palm and cock. Instantly all thoughts of climaxing were driven out of his head. He stared at Halvate, who was smirking at Joran's wilted cock.

"I told you it's a chastity device. A rather cruel one, if what you're feeling is anything to judge by. But you can still feel this, can you not?" Halvate started stroking his own cock again, and instantly Joran felt waves of pleasure rock his cock and balls so intensely that he unwittingly groaned out loud. His traitorous cock was once again poking out proudly into the water.

"Whatever I feel, you feel ten times more, remember? That includes pleasure as well as pain." Halvate rubbed his own cockhead with the palm of his hand, causing Joran to gasp from the toe curling sensation. Smirking, Halvate resumed stroking his cock, and from the frenzied pace Joran knew that Halvate was rapidly approaching the edge. He could feel the pleasure skyrocketing in his own cock and balls, making them literally ache for release. Joran moaned unintelligibly as he gripped the edge of the tub, afraid to touch his own cock, but it didn't matter anymore, Halvate was bringing the both of them to climax in what seemed to be the most explosive orgasm Joran would ever experience...

With an animal cry Halvate exploded into the water, white strings of cum erupting from his cock to float in the water around them. Joran arched his back with a cry, so intense was the climax transmitted over the a'dam, that it was only a few seconds later that he realized that he had not cum.

The ache for release was still there, except much much sharper now. With a grunt of frustration, Joran reached unthinkingly for his throbbing cock.

"Ow!! Blast it!" Joran yelled as another bolt of lightning incapacitated his hand and cock. Amazingly his cock was still rock hard and throbbing despite the sharp punishment. Tears of frustration welled up in Joran's eyes as his cock throbbed and demanded for release.

"There's no need to be upset," Halvate drawled. "You can find release when you have earned it." He smiled as he reached up to fondle Joran's hair. "Now do you understand the life of a damaro? Just do as you are told, and you'll be rewarded. Disobey, and you will suffer. Most damaro get to find release at least once every week. If you're especially obedient your morul'dam may even enter you. I've heard it's one of the most ecstatic experience ever."

Joran wasn't sure he heard correctly. Enter him? What did that mean?

"Are your jewels close to bursting now?" Halvate teased as he ran long fingers over Joran's low hanging babymakers. "Too bad they will stay that way until you learn to obey." Halvate abruptly rose from the water that had turned lukewarm, the water sluicing down over his muscles. "Now, to sleep. Your training will begin tomorrow."

Joran rose from the bath as Halvate tugged on his leash again, this time without resistance. Briefly Joran wondered if there was any point in resisting. Nobody had ever escaped the Seanchan without outside help. The a'dam was designed to be inescapable.

He blinked his tears away as he rubbed himself dry and lay down on the pallet, staring into the darkness after Halvate had put out the torch and turned in himself. His stomach growled with hunger, his body ached furiously, yet his erection was still sticking up proudly into the air. Oh how much his life had changed in just a few hours. The excess and luxury he was used to before seemed like another lifetime already. And Saidin....

Joran closed his eyes and immersed himself in the Void. There it was, the Source just shining tantalizingly close at the borders. It seemed the forkroot tea had completely worn off. Joran reached out hungrily for the Source, expecting the tumultuous rush of exhilaration that filled him everytime he seized Saidin, but try as he might the Source only slipped out of his grasp.

Joran's head pounded harder and harder the more he tried to channel, until he had to swallow down the bile that rose from his stomach.

Nothing.

Joran sank into despair as he fully comprehended the situation he was in. For the next couple hundred years of his life, he would be a slave, bound to obey the whims of any random morul'dam who wore his bracelet. He wouldn't even be allowed the most basic relief that was every man's right.

A tear rolled down his cheek as he closed his eyes.

Sleep was a long time in coming.

Chapter 6

Joran woke up the next day to find himself hugging something incredibly warm. Even better, his own thick erection was pressing up against something rigid and it felt good to rub up against it.

Joran humped sleepily against the warm rigid thing, moaning in pleasure as he did so. It was only when the thing started humping back that his mind woke up and the events of the day before abruptly crashed into his mind. With a jerk of horror, Joran snapped open his eyes, only to stare into two very blue ones.

"Good morning," Halvate rumbled in that gravelly baritone of his. "Had a good night?"

"What..." Joran stammered. Belatedly he realized he still had the younger boy in his arms, and he could feel Halvate's hot naked length pressing against his own. With a yell of surprise Joran pushed Halvate away, causing the boy to roll off the pallet onto the floor.

"Ow!" Both cried out at the same time. Halvate because he had knocked his hip against the stone floor, and Joran because pain exploded up his side. Groaning in agony, Joran realized too late the presence of the bracelet on Halvate's wrist.

"What are you doing!" Joran cried out. Instead of answering, Halvate only rose from the floor, silently glaring at Joran. Instantly Joran squealed as red hot lashes rained down on his exposed butt. His hands immediately tried to cover his rear, but to his stark despair he realized that it was to no avail as the lashes were only in his mind.

"It is good to hear you squeal like a bad boy caught misbehaving," the baritone voice said coldly. "Perhaps I will leave you to your shivering and nightmares the next time." Halvate coolly hung the bracelet back on the hook, then promptly turned around and strode over to his wardrobe without another word.

Joran gaped at Halvate's retreating back, unsure of what he had just heard. Yes last night had been cold, and the thin meagre blanket was not enough. To make matters worse, he had also fallen into a fitful sleep where he dreamt that instead of Halvate enslaving him, it was Kieran who had collared him and had him humiliated in front of the entire court of Cairhien. However, that had only lasted a while because afterwards it became warm and his dreams turned far more pleasant...

Could Halvate had been the one to soothe him as he implied? The more Joran tried, the less he understood Halvate. Understanding people's motives was a basic skill if you wanted to survive in Cairhien, but Joran just didn't get Halvate's motives. The young man was sadistic and kind in turns - it was just terribly confusing.

"Wash up," Halvate said curtly, gesturing to a steaming basin of water beside the chamberpot.

Joran blinked back from his thoughts. Halvate had put on a simple shirt and breeches and already had the bracelet on again. Before Halvate could tug on the leash, Joran picked himself up - he hated feeling like a dog to be tugged everywhere. However this only drew a a satisfied nod from Halvate.

"Good. You are learning to anticipate my commands." Halvate praised as he patted Joran on his head, which was quite a stretch as Joran was taller by a head. Joran ground his teeth in frustration. Bloody ashes, he was becoming a well-trained dog!

"There is no shame in behaving well," Halvate said with an approving smile. "If you keep this up I might let you find release at the end of the month."

Joran grimaced as his morning hard-on flexed at the thought of sexual release. Damn the boy, he was finding it harder and harder to fight back. Wordlessly, Joran simply shuffled over to the washbasin and did his morning ablutions. He hesitated though when it came to the chamberpot. Halvate, the bastard, was just standing there watching him.

"An animal does not know modesty, that is a concept only for humans," Halvate recited with a smirk. In that instant white-hot rage suffused Joran's entire body. Enough was enough.

Lightning-quick, Joran snapped around and flung a fist at his captor's face with enough force to kill, to hell with the consequences.

Halvate only had an instant's warning through the a'dam before Joran's large fist flew into his face. Fortunately his reflexes saved him from having his face caved in. As it was though, the punch clipped the side of his face. Halvate winced. This one he was going to feel for days, and he feared he would have a bruise for a week as a mark of his incompetence. Halvate shook his head and put the thought of his own humiliation away. He needed to deal with the marath'damaro now.

Said damaro was currently curled up on the floor, his hands clutching at his face and groaning terribly. He was going to feel like his entire cheekbone was fractured, Halvate surmised. Oh well. A man must reap what he sows after all.

"Get up," Halvate ordered coldly. He tugged at the leash impatiently. Joran appeared to be too absorbed in his own pain to respond, so Halvate simply started pulling as he walked to the door.

"Urghh!" Joran gurgled as he scrabbled at his collar which was suddenly choking him. Within moments the big man had scrambled to his feet and was following Halvate as he massaged his throat and face.

"Why aren't you punishing me?"

Halvate stifled a spike of annoyance at the man's impertinence. Now that they were out of Halvate's personal chambers, damaro were expected to follow a certain protocol, which included keeping his head down and not breathing a single word. Halvate remained silent, his only response to jerk the chain down, forcing the big man to hunch over.

It was hard work. Joran was much stronger than him, but Halvate persevered. He picked up his speed so that Joran would be forced to trot, and hopefully be out of breath to ask more questions.

Before long Halvate reached the main training yard. It was a grassy field surrounded by the barracks walls, and was large enough for the morul'dam and damaro to do their morning exercises. There were more than ten pairs doing their exercises, but Halvate wasn't going to join them. He was headed for the center of the field, where a raised wooden platform was placed.

He held his head high as he strode past his brothers and sisters, aware of the bruise forming on his cheek, but not allowing it to affect his demeanor. Most of his fellow morul'dam and sul'dam smirked when they saw the bruise, and their eyebrows raised knowingly as they saw where he was headed.

It seemed that Joran had also realized where they were headed, for he stopped short, jerking at the leash in Halvate's hand.

"No bloody way!"

Halvate stifled another spike of annoyance. Joran was quickly getting on his nerves. He faced the tall, hairy man whose eyes were currently wide open in horror.

"Yes it's a pillory. And yes that is your punishment. Move!" Halvate ordered.

When the damaro refused, Halvate resorted to lashes across his butt, causing the big man to squeal in pain. Halvate relished in the pleasure of seeing the muscular man hop about in pain, his semi-hard cock and low-hanging goose eggs flapping about ridiculously. Still, he had better establish control soon. His brothers and sisters were watching.

"You will move and put yourself in the pillory," Halvate stated calmly, although his mind was anything but. He ignored the turmoil of insecurity, doubt and irritation in his mind, and concentrated on heating up Joran's body through the a'dam. It was standard training protocol. A warning, followed by harsh punishment if unheeded.

To his immense irritation, Joran refused to budge. Halvate could even sense the wave of rebellious thoughts through the a'dam.

Oh well, Halvate thought. Time for the fire then. He concentrated this time on burning Joran's skin.

The resulting bloodcurling scream could be heard all over the yard.

Halvate suppressed a shudder of pleasure as he eyed the writhing man on the grass. For some reason watching big, muscular men writhing and screaming in pain brought him off like no other. Secretly Halvate wondered if all the morul'dam and sul'dam were sadists like him. Surely you had to be one to master the a'dam?

Halvate stopped the burning and regarded his damaro with a raised eyebrow.

"Will you move?"

"Y-yes..." Joran whimpered weakly as he struggled to get to his feet. Halvate tugged at the leash impatiently. It would not do to let others see him coddle his damaro who was about to be pilloried.

"Move!"

With some difficulty and more yelling from Joran, Halvate finally managed to secure the muscular man in the pillory. It sure wasn't comfortable, as the height was set so low that the poor damaro was bent over, his face coming only to Halvate's crotch. It did however cause Joran to perk his pale, white butt up into the air.

Halvate walked around his restrained damaro, secretly admiring the way Joran's glutes clenched. His hairy asscrack was also full on display, as was his long, swinging flaccid cock. Already Joran was bending his knees to alleviate the strain in his back.

"Oh no, you aren't getting off so easily," Halvate chuckled. Fetching a short metal pole that was placed at the side of the platform, Halvate inserted the pole into a hole in the platform strategically drilled below Joran's round globes. Coiled around the pole was a thin cotton rope, which Halvate wasted no time in freeing and tying one end around Joran's sore balls. The other end Halvate looped through a hole at the top of the pole, and pulled.

Halvate smiled as Joran yelled and cursed as his balls were pulled up, forcing him onto his toes. He must really be uncomfortable now, bent over as he was, with his butt high up in the air and his calves under immense pressure to keep his butt up. His balls, having been crushed and beaten the night before, must be really really sore today, and being pulled up like that must really hurt.

Ignoring all these sensations from the a'dam, Halvate finished securing the rope and stepped back to survey his work.

By the Empress, the damaro looked good.

Halvate could feel his semi-hard cock stirring in his loose breeches. With his back arched, every muscle on Joran's body was taut with tension, and his calves were outlined beautifully amidst all the fur that covered his body. It was early morning and the sun wasn't too strong, yet a light sheen of sweat covered Joran's pale skin, dampening the dark hair on Joran's body. What really attracted Halvate though was the long cock that was hanging straight down. Eight inches and flaccid, it swung between his muscled legs and was just begging for abuse.

Halvate returned to the front of the pillory and smirked. He could tell even without the a'dam that the man was humiliated beyond measure. As the morning progressed, more and more people joined the field for their morning walks and exercises, a mixture of morul'dam, sul'dam, damaro, and damane. There must be over thirty people on the field now to witness his humiliation. Worse still, Joran was bare ass naked, without even his boots. To a former powerful asha'man like Joran, the situation must be intensely humiliating, as evidenced by the waves of shame rolling off the collar.

Halvate squatted down and regarded Joran in the face. "You tried to kill me," he stated calmly.

"Damn you! Release me this instant!" Joran yelled back.

Halvate backhanded the man roughly, causing Joran to sputter angrily.

"It is standard protocol for trying to kill your morul'dam. You are still in training, so you will be getting off lightly with the pillory. The first time you will simply be tortured on the pillory for one day." Halvate paused, making sure that he had Joran's attention.

"The second time you try to kill your morul'dam, you will be gelded. You will be strung up by your balls and bounced up and down until your family jewels are either crushed into a pulp, or simply ripped off. It is not an enjoyable punishment, let me assure you. The screams can last for days, I heard."

Halvate watched in satisfaction as Joran's eyes bugged out in horror at the description.

"Usually there is no third time. It has never happened before. But as per protocol, the third time is Severing followed by starvation unto death."

Joran made a choked sound. "That's..."

Halvate nodded. "Yes. It is cruel, but necessary. However, as long as you do not try, there is nothing to worry about." Halvate ruffled Joran's short, dark hair. "And now, for your punishment."

Without warning, Halvate concentrated on the a'dam and pierced Joran's meaty cockhead with a red-hot needle.

Chapter 7

Joran sobbed.

His entire body was aflame with pain. He couldn't even differentiate between each part of his body anymore. It hurt everywhere.

"Beg me to punish you."

"P...please...stop..." Joran begged, his voice already hoarse with all the screaming. He didn't care about the onlookers anymore. His shame had disappeared with the first few punishments that rained down on his body. He had lost control of his bladder long ago, but he didn't even care about the pool of piss beneath him anymore. All he cared about was stopping the overwhelming pain that engulfed his body.

Joran screamed as his hole was subjected to another flurry of whips. At the same time, he felt a red-hot rod thrust into his piss slit. Joran gagged as he vomited from the pain. Or at least, tried to. For his stomach was empty and had been emptied out long ago.

"Beg me to punish you."

Always the same refrain. Joran opened his eyes, clouded with pain, and regarded Halvate's ice-blue orbs.

He looked so innocent, but beneath those boyish good looks was a sadistic monster.

"B-burn you," Joran wheezed.

A hot branding iron against his nipples, and yet another hoarse scream wrenched from his tortured throat.

"Beg me to punish you."

Joran coughed. He wondered how long this had been going on. It felt like hours, but Joran could tell from Halvate's shadow that it was only mid-morning.

It seemed that Halvate had not waited for Joran's answer, for Joran screamed again as his poor nuts were kicked mercilessly.

For a moment, Joran wondered if it was possible to permanently lose his nuts from just the a'dam. Intellectually he understood that it was just the standing flows of Spirit in the a'dam that made him feel the pain, but in reality it felt all too real.

"Beg me to punish you."

"C-curse you..." Joran retorted weakly. He was starting to flag, and Halvate's tortures were inventive and starting to wear down his resistance.

It was corded whips this time, which rained down on his back.

Joran sobbed. He had tried to escape to the Void, trying to dissociate from the pain as he had been taught to do, but the pain was just too great and the Void escaped him. Besides, Halvate knew just where his most tender spots were. Joran didn't think he would forget the feeling of a red-hot lance up his dick any time soon.

"Beg me to punish you."

Joran dry-heaved as his stomach was punched mercilessly.

His only solace was that this was just pain and there would be no marks nor damage on his body.

Halvate sweated. He had been at it for two hours and still the man had refused to cave in to his first demand.

Joran was proving more resilient than he thought. Despite putting the man through most of his tortures, Joran still refused. The man was thoroughly exhausted, with sweat dripping down his entire body and his calves trembling with the continual effort of keeping his butt high, yet he still refused.

"What do you hope to achieve by resisting?" Halvate asked, breaking his litany of demands for the first time in two hours.

Joran blinked at Halvate, his silver eyes weary with pain. "You can't break me with just pain," he replied.

Halvate frowned as he wondered what Joran meant. Halvate could feel a small sense of smug satisfaction from Joran through the a'dam. It took a few moments before Halvate realized what Joran was referring to.

Of course. The a'dam delivered pain and only pain. Joran could deal with it as long as there was no permanent damage.

Halvate shook his head. The poor fool.

"The a'dam relies on flows of Spirit to give you pain. This you know, right?" Halvate said.

Joran nodded, his expression wary.

"Which other weaves do you know that use Spirit?" Halvate questioned.

Joran frowned tiredly. Halvate could sense his exhaustion and pain, but beneath all that was still a modicum of alertness.

"Healing, illusions, mind tricks, compulsion, bonding-"

"-And if the mind is overloaded, what happens?" Halvate questioned idly. He could see the answer on Joran's horrorstruck face.

"I see you don't need me to be explicit. In short, if I torture you with the a'dam too much without letting you recover, you will gradually lose your senses. In time, your entire body will become numb." Halvate leaned in closer until he was nose-to-nose with Joran. "Imagine," Halvate whispered in the silky baritone of his. "Pulling on that thick, long cock of yours, with no feeling whatsoever, unable to get it up, for centuries on end..."

To emphasize his point, Halvate concentrated on whipping Joran's beautiful long cock. Joran screamed, but hardly any sound came out anymore, so torn was his throat.

"Why?" Joran rasped. "Why are you doing this to me?"

Halvate sighed. "Because you refuse to submit. All this-" Halvate waved his hand over Joran's pain-ridden body. "All this is completely unnecessary. All you need to do is to submit and obey."

There was still doubt in Joran's eyes.

"Why resist and invite pain? After all, good behavior begets rewards. Let me show you what are some of the rewards you can get." Halvate closed his eyes and concentrated.

He could hear Joran gasp in his hoarse voice, this time in bliss. Halvate knew what he must be feeling, a feeling of ecstasy in his loins, riding higher and higher, until he was just teetering on the edge of the precipice -

Halvate stopped. He opened his eyes and regarded Joran's crushed expression with amusement.

"That was just a simple sexual release you could find from your hand. I have been told that if your morul'dam enters you while linked, the damaro usually faints from all the pleasure. It is that good."

Joran felt despair overwhelm him.

Even if the a'dam had no long term effects, Joran also knew that he couldn't resist indefinitely. The worst part was that the a'dam prevented suicide, and there was no escape without outside help.

In that moment, the inevitability of it all struck Joran hard. Joran couldn't imagine a world in which there was no feeling, no touch, no taste, no smell. What would be the point in living then? If he was going to give in sooner or later, why not sooner and save himself all the pain? Why not start obeying and gain the blissful rewards that Halvate talked about?

There was no escape anyway.

Halvate could sense the moment Joran broke. The resistance in the ball of sensations crumbled, and a single tear rolled from Joran's eyes.

"Beg me to punish you," Halvate said tenderly.

"P-please punish me, master," Joran said hoarsely, a defeated look in his eyes.

"Good. You are learning. Now the standard punishment protocol is simply whipping. You could have saved yourself all that pain in your private parts if you had just simply asked for punishment," Halvate rebuked. He started a simple paddling on Joran's muscular butt, causing the hunky damaro to whimper.

"There, that's much more manageable, isn't it?" Halvate said softly.

Joran only nodded and whimpered.

"Good. That's progress. However I will still need to keep you here for the entire day as per protocol. Will you be brave for me and endure your punishment?"

Joran nodded even as he whimpered from the ever increasing strokes on his butt.

"You are so strong and beautiful, I would hate to break you completely, or worse remove those beautiful jewels of yours." Halvate stroked Joran's chiseled jaw tenderly. "I know what name to call you now. Taeru. It means to endure in Seanchan. Will you become Taeru for me?"

Halvate gave Joran a moment to gather himself. This was a critical moment in which a marath'damaro accepted his fate. It was also the best time to give him a new name. Other morul'dam would impose a new name right off the bat. Not Halvate. He knew that the best damaro and damane came from a willing transformation, a rebirth of sorts. He only hoped that Joran was ready to transform.

Halvate poked at the ball of sensations in his head, watching the inner turmoil roil in Joran's mind. Subtly Halvate adjusted his breathing to match Joran's, and gave him a slight nudge of affection. He wasn't sure it would work. This was his first time after all. But if it did work, it would save him weeks of repetitive torture and training.

Halvate smiled secretly as he felt the cascade of emotions in his damaro. His face was impassive however, simply waiting for Joran to say it out loud, to cement his fate.

"Yes, master," Joran said softly, his voice hoarse not only from his screaming but also with emotion. "Yes master, I submit."

Halvate smiled.