Everybody who ever caught him seemed to have an obsession with rack. Crows. Demons in the Fade. And now, Loghain's ass lickers in Fort Drakon.
And it would have been even funny - if only Kailan wasn't being tied to the rack just near him.
Naked - as was he.
One man for her, two men for him and one standing near the wall, looking.
Supervising.
Kailan was white and trembling, and whimpering softly.
Shock.
Focus, Zevran. Focus. You need to make them forget about her. How?
Heh. Easy.
His wrists hurt like hell - but he learned to like it a long time ago. Just a little memory... what bounds his wrists isn't steel, nor cuffs, no, but a silk scarf, and her hands are all over his body - not these brutes dirty paws, no, her light white hands, and the excitement is like lightning, like cold wave of healing magic flowing along his body to his cock.
Zevran twitched and moaned. Two guards stared at him.
"Damn, sarge, he likes it!"
"Look, he truly likes it! I pull the restraint a bit more, look, and and..."
The guards gaped, as Zevran's erection grew.
...One delicious mage also liked to bind him tight, and took her time with knifes, touching him with cold steel, making little cuts...
"Damn it, sarge! He likes it too!"
"Well, gentlemen, we've got ourselves a whore."
"A whore!"
...You look like a whore like this, Zevran, Taliesin would say, looking at him all sprawled in the bed, legs apart, asshole well in view, and Zevran would grin…
He did grin now at their faces disfigured by lust - while they argued about the order in which they would rape him. Three drooling guards and one very flushed sergeant.
They barred the door and got out of the amour down to the linen underclothes - the sergeant put his dagger on the rack.
Zevran's grin grew - as they detached his legs and spread them.
They were all here, and no one spared a look to Kailan.
He himself was afraid to throw a glance in her direction; they had to forget she even existed. He just hoped she wouldn't look at him either.
The sergeant was to be the last. Good.
As the first of them pushed into him, he hissed and pushed back, and his body moved on the rack, his head touching the end of it. Pressure on his wrists lessened a bit, which was good. What was even better, in this position his wrists were hidden from the guards' view by his loose hair.
"Damn it, damn it, he's so fucking tight! I'm gonna..."
Finally. Even the first time with the master wasn't so painful, stupid oaf surely tore him badly. No matter. Now the next one was climbing on the rack, and the pain from him was better to be used more productively.
Just as the guard entered him, the elf cried out and his body arched.
"Ha, you like it, whore, don't you? You like it!"
Zevran's left hand's thumb popped out of the socket and his wrist was free from the cuffs. He verified carefully that he could indeed pull it out, but didn't yet. The second guard was taking too much time, so he squeezed his cock with all his ability, and the brute came howling. Two down, two to go.
The next one was impatient and quick. And also very, very young. The pain from the liberated right hand had barely dulled that it was over.
"Well, now that my kids had softened you for me, I'll show you what the true ride is about!"
The sergeant climbed on the rack, put Zevran's legs on his shoulders and entered him in one trust. And had barely registered the feral grin on Zevran's face before his head was twisted by the elf's feet and his neck broke. Zevran pulled his hands out of the cuffs and rolled off the rack, filthy body in his embrace. The time the spent guards realized what was going on, Zevran put his thumbs back in place, grasped the sergeant's dagger and stepped into the shadows.
The first to die was the youngest, still hazy from his orgasm. Step behind, slit the throat. Two down, two to go.
Whirl, step aside, dagger enters between the ribs - strait to the heart to the one who loved taking his time. Three.
The oldest, "the oaf" had time get his sword and shield. Zevran bent low, and his dagger slit oaf's leg muscles. The guard went down and got his throat slit before he could cry out.
Four.
Stop.
He stopped. And looked at Kailan.
She was crying. He face was pale, and wet. And in her eyes... he shuddered. He didn't deserve that look.
He cut her restraints and she hugged him.
"... Dear Warden, you really shouldn't do that. I'm filthy."
"It's heroic filth." she kissed his ear - the only more or less clean part of him, and hugged him tighter.
He sighed - and kissed her head.
Now that the thrill of the battle abated he was beginning to feel pain and soreness of the abuse, but strangely, he rarely have been more at peace.
He hugged her back, briefly, and let go.
"Come, my Warden. We still have to fight our way out."
"True. And you need healing. I suppose, they had some potions..."
She was back to the matter of fact woman, and he smiled.
"I'll gather weapons and clothes," he said, helping her up from the rack.
He turned, and her next phrase got him in the back.
"And when we will come back to Eamon's, I'll tie you up and will have my wicked way with you," she said and her voice almost broke.
"I'll look forward to it," he said.
When he turned back to her, with bundles of clothes in his arms, his eyes were once again dry.