Bound

by Lila Dubois

  “That is rude, you should not speak to her in such a way,” Amzel scolded.

  “Who are you to say?”

  “My uncle was kicked in the head by a horse when he was young and is now stupid, but he is still a very kind man, and a good worker,” Amzel said under her breath. Turning to Aketa, Amzel raised her voice, speaking slowly. “Aketa, my name is Amzel. You do not have to be afraid. I want to be your friend. We want to know if you will speak to us. If you do speak nod your head, if you do not, shake your head.”

  Aketa, peering out from the shadows of her scarf, considered Amzel’s words. She had not asked if Aketa could speak, only asked if she did speak. Besides last night, Aketa did not speak. She shook her head.

  “She can not speak? Why would the Queen have let her continue?” Sornes said.

  “She passed the maze.”

  “Well it was not that difficult, and required no speaking. But how does she expect to continue? Lord Moregon does not want a stupid mute girl.”

  “Be kind, Sornes. Perhaps Aketa doesn’t really understand what we are competing for. View it this way, our chances are all the better.” Amzel said, smiling and nodding at Aketa.

  Leave me alone. Go away. You are stupid and ugly. Well perhaps not. Just go away.

  Sornes peered at Aketa. Her hand lifted, moving towards Aketa’s scarf. Akerta jerked away, taken aback that Sornes would dare to pull the scarf away. How could someone maintain such a disregard for another person’s space?

  Sornes pulled her hand back, eyes narrowed so that only a sliver of black iris showed. She turned away, and with a parting smile, Amzel followed her. Aketa let out a sigh of relief. She waited until they were well away until she moved, sliding along the wall and out the door.

  The remaining girls, five in all, had been left to their own devices all morning. Aketa had slept late, tired after her late night rendezvous. She’d woken wondering if the evening had been nothing more than a dream, but the tingle of warmth that remained in her body convinced her that the meeting had been more than a figment of her imagination.

  She washed and dressed, determined to meet whatever challenges the day brought. The secret of her meeting, and Moregon’s words, were a warm ball of confidence in her belly. But that ball had cooled as the morning wore on with no action. She’d wandered every inch of the dormitory, studiously avoiding the other girls.

  After only one turn of the hourglass she’d been tired of the room, and desired to go outside, but had feared missing anything. The latest encounter was enough to send Aketa scuttling for the door. If they needed her they would have to come find her.

  Just as she reached the doors, they were thrown open. Two guards came in, framing the doorway. The Queen came through the doors, regal and radiant in lavender silk and a silver crown studded with pearls.

  The girls jumped from their cots, hurrying into the aisle that led to the door. Sornes, in the lead, dipped into a curtsy. The other girls followed suit, and Aketa, who’d scuttled back into the corner, awkwardly copied them.

  “Rise.”

  They came out of their curtsies and Aketa, feeling the weight of the Queen’s gaze, scooted closer to the others.

  Once Aketa was in place, the Queen folded her hands, addressing them with a firm tone.

  “Out of many, you five remain. Everything up to now has been a game, meant to narrow many to only a few. Now we will begin a competition in truth. What will come are tests of will and courage. You will be asked to face things you have never heard of, never imagined. What you see and do here will forever remain a secret.

  “Before we can continue I must ensure the secrecy we require. For the sake of this kingdom I must protect the secrets of the Temple and the Zinahs, which will be revealed to you.

  “If you wish to continue in your quest to wed Lord Moregon, come with me.”

  The Queen turned and walked out the doors. Sornes, without pause, followed, Amzel right behind her. The other two, whose names Aketa had forgotten, looked at one another, hesitant.

  Taking a deep breath, Aketa slipped passed them, taking the third spot. They moved through the castle, and Aketa heard the missing girls fall in line behind her.

  At the end of their journey they found themselves in a chamber, small but remarkable. Strange shapes were set in a border around the top of the room. A low, shallow bowl dominated the center of the room and a wall on the far side was covered in books.

  Aketa peered intently at the books. She knew what books were, having seen them, but had never touched one. Aketa wondered if she could subtly scoot closer. All she wanted to do was hold one, maybe open it and touch the pages.

  A startled squeak from Amzel drew her attention, and she looked in the direction of the other girls' gaze. The wall opposite the books was covered with objects of a more ominous nature.

  Sword and whips hung from decorative hooks. Wave-bladed daggers glittered in the torchlight. Aketa clenched bunches of skirt in her fists. Moregon’s words from last night, warning her about the upcoming challenges, echoed ominously in her mind. The other girls, who had pulled together in a tight little bunch, inched away from the weaponry. Some glanced at the door, contemplating escape.

  Aketa consciously unclenched her fingers, smoothing her skirts. She had withstood physical pain in her life, and she could bear whatever abuse they were prepared to perpetrate upon them. Moregon was worth it.

  The Queen was watching them, drinking in their reactions.

  “Fear not,” Cryessa said, drawing their attention, “This is a ceremonial room, where magic is performed.” That announcement did little to calm their nerves. It was whispered that the Priestess commanded great magic, but to hear it acknowledged so openly was frightening.

  “I have brought you here to ensure your silence.”

  Amzel slapped her hands over her mouth to stifle a terrified shriek.

  “Once finished, you will not be able to speak of the things you see or do here. If you attempt to do so you will find your throat dry and your voice gone.”

  “How can that be?” Sornes demanded.

  The Queen cocked her head, eyes bright. “Magic.”

  Sornes dipped her head, chastised.

  “Come, since you spoke up, you may be first.”

  Sornes, head high, though Aketa saw her fingers twisting, moved forward, skirting the stone basin. Aketa could not see what the Queen did, but only a few moments later Sornes was dismissed.

  When it was Aketa’s turn, she made her way forward. She overheard Amzel whispering that it was unnecessary for the Queen to perform magic on Aketa, since she couldn’t speak anyway.

  “Hello, Aketa,” the Queen said, smiling.

  Aketa nodded, looking at the wall behind the Queen.

  “Will you remove your scarf? Only I will see what it is you wish to hide.”

  Aketa reached up and dropped her scarf, letting it pool behind her neck. Compared to the weapons she’d thought she would face, this task was not a hard one. The Queen examined her face, and Aketa swallowed down her shame. She knew what her face looked like, though she took pains not to examine it too often.

  The Queen nodded, then said “Open your mouth.”

  Startled, Aketa opened her mouth, and the Queen slipped a smooth crystal onto her tongue. The Queen placed her hands on Aketa’s forehead. Warmth tingled down Aketa’s face from the spot where the Queen’s hands rested. The heavy chunk of crystal on her tongue tingled, stinging her tongue.

  Just when the sensation became uncomfortable Queen Cryessa plucked the crystal from her tongue.

  “Thank you, Aketa.”

  Aketa pulled her scarf back into place and dipped her head in respect. As she left and the next girl took her place before the Queen, Aketa admitted disappointment. She’d thought magic might be more … magical.

  When the last girl was done, Queen Cryessa clapped her hands.

  “I am pleased you all chose to continue on with this. Now I will lift the first veil of secrecy, and show you wha
t will be asked of Lord Moregon’s wife.”

  The tension that had fled her body upon discovering the simple nature of the magic, returned two-fold.

  Whatever was asked of her she would do it, conquer it, for the right to feel Moregon’s kiss.

  Chapter 10

  Sleek as predators, glossy in the flickering light of oil lamps, they prowled around one another. The man was naked to the waist; the muscles of his chest slick with oil. Four pale scars slashed across his chest, adding an element of savagery. He wore the skull of a wolf, the upper jaw, still adorned with teeth, shadowing his face. The rest of the animal’s hide flowed over his shoulders and back

  His partner wore white fur. A thin strip wrapped across her breasts, while ragged panels covered her sex and the seam of her ass. Thin ties held the pieces together and exposed the sides of her hips, so her leg was an unbroken line of creamy flesh.

  Aketa licked her lips, tucking her fingers under her thighs to keep herself still.

  The man, the wolf, circled the woman, who wore a half mask shaped like the face of an owl.

  He stepped behind her, grabbed her, pulling her back against him with such force that she lost her footing, falling into his arms. The wolf growled, lowering his head to her shoulder. The mask dipped low, so it appeared the teeth of the wolf would bite her soft breasts.

  The woman cried out, arching up. The man released her, and Aketa could see the bite marks on her shoulder.

  She was no more than three strides from the couple. Aketa and the other girls were seated on benches in the small chamber. The room was draped in rich fabrics, the floor covered by mounds of rugs and furs. It was the most decadent place Aketa had ever seen. The Queen had led them here, bade them sit, and then said they were going to be introduced to a world of sexuality and decadence and that understanding and accepting this world was the key to winning Lord Moregon.

  Then the man and woman had entered the room, and Aketa forgot everything but watching them.

  The woman whirled and crouched, fingers curled into claws. She sprang, leaping at the man. He caught her easily. Dropping to one knee, he forced her over his bent knee. Flipping up the flap of fur covering her ass, he brought his hand down on her bottom. The spank echoed throughout the chamber.

  Almost as one, the watching girls gasped, and the first glimmer of understanding sparkled to life in Aketa’s mind.

  The woman snarled and kicked her feet. The man spanked her harder, and her struggles stilled. He released her and stood. The woman remained on her knees. He fisted his hand in her hair and brought her face to his belly. The woman licked and kissed his stomach, working her way down to his waistband. She raked her teeth down the front of his breeches, across the rock-hard erection Aketa could clearly see.

  The man snarled and pushed her away. The woman fell back, licking her lips. The man pulled her up, tilted her head to the side, and kissed her, the wolf’s teeth catching her hair.

  He released her, but only long enough to grab a pair of heavy steel manacles from the floor. He motioned for her to hold her hands out. She disobeyed, tucking her hands behind her back. He held up one finger. She shook her head. This continued until he got to five.

  She held her wrists out, and he snapped the heavy metal manacles around each wrists. A chain capped in a wicked hook descended from the ceiling. The wolf hooked the owl’s manacles to the chain, which winched up, drawing the owl’s hands above her head.

  She gasped and moaned as her body was pulled into a long, lean line.

  The wolf growled in satisfaction and knelt in front of her. He rubbed his hands along her bare belly, walking them up her abdomen until he reached her breasts. He hooked his fingers over the strip of fabric and yanked it down. Her breasts, pale white and vulnerable, sprang free. Her nipples were pebbled into hard points, and showed startlingly pink against the white.

  He pinched her nipples, rolling them with his fingers. She moaned, her head falling back from between her upraised arms. The woman shifted all her weight to one foot, the other leg hooking over the man’s shoulder and back, forcing his face into the apex of her thighs, the wolf’s teeth raking her belly.

  The man pushed her leg away and rose. Stepping to the side, so they could see, he continued to toy with her nipples, rolling and pinching, plucking and tugging. The woman’s moans and cries escalated, until Aketa was sure she would orgasm from nothing more than the man’s touch on her breasts.

  He removed his hand and she snarled in frustration. The woman thrashed in her bonds, hair flying through the air, legs flailing in a vain attempt to kick him. The man grabbed a bar with manacles on each end. He attached each manacle to one ankle, and the bar forced her legs apart.

  His fingers stroked her straining thighs, petting her. Each pass of his hands brought his fingers closer to her sex. Aketa watched, willing his finger to slip beneath the fur and touch the woman, willing him to give her completion. Aketa shifted, rubbing her thighs together in an effort to ease some of her own arousal.

  The man wrapped one hand around her back his hand curling around to toy with her nipple, the other hand disappeared beneath the fur. The woman jerked, gasping, and Aketa desperately wanted to see what he was doing. Was he toying with her clit, had he entered her? With how many fingers?

  The woman’s body, pulled taught by her bindings, moved only slightly in reaction to his touch, but her cries were loud, escalating from gasps to near screams as the man toyed with her, nipple and sex. The woman let out a long final cry, going limp, and Aketa released her breath. The man motioned, apparently to some unseen helper, as the chain added slack, allowing the woman’s feet to go flat on the floor and providing some relief for her arms. She was still bound by manacle and chain, and she slumped, head resting on her arm, mask slightly askew.

  The wolf pinched her chin, raising her face. He held up five fingers. She nodded.

  The man moved away and returned carrying what looked like a saddle stand. It was waist high, and padded to a circumference close to that of a man’s thigh. The wolf placed the stand beside the owl, and then turned her until she faced it.

  With another motion to the unseen helper the man commanded that the chain be further lowered. As the slack grew he forced the woman forward, until she was bent over the bench. When the chain stopped her upper arms were in line with her torso, elbows bent in an acute angle, her wrists up and slightly behind her head.

  He once more flipped the patch of fur up, exposing her ass. Because her legs were spread Aketa could see the lips of the other woman’s sex. She looked away, embarrassed for the woman, but her resolve lasted only a moment. She turned back, unable to look away. The woman’s sex lips were plump and glistened wetly.

  The man smoothed his hand over her ass.

  Would he spank her again?

  Aketa had never seen anything like what was happening before her eyes. Spankings were the realm of naughty children with strict parents, but what she saw before her was sensual and joyous. She did not understand why, but accepted that it was. Her body’s reaction to it was all the proof her mind needed that what she was seeing was beautiful and right.

  Aketa sucked her lower lip into her mouth, worrying the scar.

  In her mind's eye, she saw herself bent over, ass red from one spanking, sex wet from an orgasm brought on by his fingers, no, by his mouth. The man standing over her, hand raised to strike her upturned ass, was Moregon.

  Was that what they were meant to learn? Did Moregon want a woman who would submit to this? Yes, oh yes, please. I will do it.

  She was snapped from her fantasy by a loud crack! The man lifted the riding crop. It was no longer than the length of the man’s arm, and tipped by a folded bit of leather.

  Was he…?

  The man traced the woman’s back and ass with the tip of the crop. She shivered, squealing when he pressed the tip of the crop into the folds of her sex. He pulled the crop free and raised it.

  Smack!

  The crack of the crop against her
flesh was loud, and an angry red patch of skin, the shape and size of the crop’s tip, flared to life on her left buttock.

  The harshness was startling, and Aketa’s arousal started to fade, but by the fourth swat of the crop she was aroused once more, two-fold that of before. The harshness of what he did just increased the pleasure Aketa found in it.

  “You have been naughty,” the wolf growled, his voice startling after the extended silence. “I have to punish you. I have to teach you to be good.”

  Oh yes, punish her, teach her to be good, to be a good, good girl.

  Aketa licked her lips. She was so wet she could feel the moisture seeping down between the globes of her ass. Aketa clenched her thighs, praying her dress would not show a tell-tale wet spot when she rose.

  “The last stroke will land on your sex. Bad girl.”

  The man raised the crop, and brought it down on the woman’s sex. She screamed, withering in what could have been either ecstasy or anguish. The man flung the crop to the side, jerked down his breeches, and plunged his turgid cock into her sex. He sank balls deep into her with one stroke.

  Holding her hips he threw his head back and roared in pleasure.

  He pumped into her, the woman shaking with each thrust. Her breasts, which hung beneath her, bounced with each pump of his hips. For a wild moment Aketa imagined going to the woman, sinking to her knees and taking those bouncing breasts in her hands, plucking and pinching the nipples as the man fucked her.

  She wanted to do it not for her own pleasure, but to raise the scene before her to a level of ultimate pleasure for the woman.

  With a shout the man came, bending over her as he took his last few thrusts, reaching beneath the woman to savagely pinch her nipples. The added stimulation triggered the woman’s orgasm, and she screamed and she came.

  Chapter 11

  Aketa dashed through the castle. She did not take the care she had last night she did not have the patience. She needed to be alone, she needed to give herself over to the arousal that had plagued her since that evening’s exquisite display of sexual mastery.