Eternal Damnation IV (Bet you thought I forgot)

Well, I haven't forgotten, I have been avoiding. Here is the latest bit, but now I have to remember what the hell the plot was supposed to be. I hate how you forget the brilliant ideas you come across while intoxicated. Just in case you missed the previous installments, click HERE As soon as he placed foot into the cell, he vomited. She must have hypnotized him. He had been completely Hers once She locked eyes with his. The man dry-heaved again at the thought. How could he have given up himself to a woman (if She could be called that) as completely vile and corrupt as She? But, in the moment he had called Her Mistress he would have done anything for Her - given up his soul for Her. The man was disgusted with himself. The door to his cell squeaked on its rusty hinges as the guardsman opened it. The man rose, no words were said. None were needed. The only person to whom he had spoken to in weeks had been - Her. He would never call - Her - what She had made him call Her, ever again. Never look into those all-encompassing liquid-green pools of raw animal energy. The man was abruptly shaken out of his reverie as the guardsman untied his hands from behind his back. The man rubbed at his wrists in an attempt to get his blood circulating. Just as he was gaining some comfort, however minimal, another man, dressed completely in black entered the room. The only things clearly visible in the darkness were his face and hands. "Tie his hands to that ring," the new arrival spoke. He pointed to the one he was referring to and the man looked in that direction, eyes widening in shock as the realization hit him. "You may call me, Jehi’azarad," he said as he placed shiny black gloves onto his thin pale hands. He did this slowly, as if he was relishing the sensation. As the guardsman forced the man to stand on a crate placed directly under the metal ring, he continued, "I am here to train you. It seems our Mistress has taken a liking to you," he sniffed disdainfully, looking the man over from head to toe. "I can hardly see why, you seem to have few redeeming qualities." As soon as he finished speaking, the guardsman kicked the crate out from under the man's feet. The man was left swaying from the end of the taut rope from painfully wrenched wrists and shoulders. The man in black cracked a smile, which resembled a grimace. The man thought, through his glaze of shock that this was probably as close as this beast could get to a smile. "Let the training begin." The man in black strode over to the man, standing directly in front of him he waved the guardsman away with one hand. With the other he grabbed the man's left nipple and twisted it hard. Bringing his mouth to the man's ear, he tenderly whispered, "You are mine now," as he stroked the man's chest, almost gently. Rubbing himself against the man, he wrenched his head sideways and gently kissed him upon the cheek. The man began to struggle violently, though he knew there was no escape. "That's right, you helpless bastard, struggle. Resist the breaking as much as you please because I like a challenge." He drew away and began laughing almost maniacally. Pausing to take a breath, he licked his lips and absently murmured, "Now I want to hear you scream." ... After the guardsman let the man down, he collapsed into a dead faint. The pain and humiliation were too much for him. Right before drifting into his world of dark bliss he heard the man in black say, "Same time tomorrow, Brent. Bring him bound and gagged and make sure my toys are set out properly." Brent nodded and slung the man over his shoulder, easily, as if he weighed less than nothing, and carried him to his cell.