Bound

by Lila Dubois

  She’d held herself together through the walk back to the dormitory, through the Queen’s speech warning them not to discuss what they had seen with one another, and through dinner. When the last girl had slipped into sleep Aketa had run from the dormitory.

  Once outside she headed for the trees.

  She was panting by the time she got there. Throwing herself down on the soft ground beneath the tree she pulled her skirts to her knees and thrust her hand beneath them. She spent the barest moment on foreplay, stroking her thighs, before spreading them wide and shoving two fingers deep into her own sex.

  Aketa moaned as instant pleasure coursed through her. The seemingly endless waiting had almost been worth it, in exchange for this moment of crystalline pleasure. Aketa thrust her fingers in and out, replaying scenes from that evening in her mind. It was a pleasant departure to think about something new, rather than relive old memories that had grown increasingly pale.

  Aketa moved her thumb to her clit, as she pictured the woman, bent over the odd bench, her ass and sex exposed to the man who stood so commandingly above her. The man’s hands running over the woman, caressing soft flesh that yielded so willingly. Aketa pressed her thumb hard against her clit, her hips bucking off the ground.

  It had been so long since she’d known a man’s touch. Fear of what came after those fleeting nights of passion and insecurities over her appearance had kept her from seeking a man’s touch, but she craved it still.

  Aketa’s free hand moved to her breasts, plucking roughly at her nipples through the harsh fabric of her dress. She remembered the way the man had bent over the woman, covering her, filling her, and in the final moment tormenting her soft pink nipples with his strong fingers.

  Sucking on her lip, Aketa let the memory morph into fantasy. Moregon’s rough fingers pinching her nipples, driving into her sex.

  As if she’d conjured him from her fantasy, Moregon stepped out of the shadows, a towering form moving through the dark. So lost was she in her fantasy, that at first Aketa did not see him, and when his presence invaded her senses she took it for no more than a vivid phantom of the images in her mind.

  But then fingers stroked the back of her hand, and he murmured, “Let me.”

  Aketa gasped and opened her eyes. It was dark beneath the low hanging branches of the tree, and Moregon was no more than an outline, but she had no doubt of his identity.

  Moregon eased her hand from her breasts, and replaced it with his own.

  His fingers pressed her left nipple, squeezing, growing ever tighter, until she gasped and arched her hips.

  He bent his head toward hers, and Aketa twisted her face to the right, hiding her imperfections, thought the low light already shielded her. His lips landed on her cheek.

  It was the first touch of his lips on her, and it was perfect. The kiss was soft and gentle, reverent. Aketa exhaled, biting her tongue to keep herself from turning and meeting his kiss with her lips.

  Moregon moved his mouth, sliding it down over her jaw to press wet, open-mouthed kisses along her throat. He licked the sensitive spot behind her ear, and it sent of bolt of pleasure to her sex.

  This reminded her of the position of her hand, which had gone still under the surprise of his arrival.

  Aketa flicked her thumb across her clit, and that combined with the pressure of his fingers on her nipple, and his mouth on her neck, rocketed her close to orgasm.

  “Naughty,” he whispered, shifting so he could grab her wrist and force her fingers from her sex.

  Aketa moaned in arousal. The word as he said it was suddenly imbued with dark things, and his act of control pressed her closer to orgasm.

  “Will you punish me?” she whispered, emboldened by her arousal.

  “Would you like that?” His question was deadly serious, but all Aketa could do was thrust her hips up, begging for his touch, and whisper, “Yes, yes, yes.”

  “I can give you this,” he said.

  Moregon slid his hand between her legs, pushing her skirts up so that her sex was fully exposed to the night air. He stroked the soft hair that protected her there, petting her. His fingers on her nipple twisted, contorting her flesh. She bucked her hips, forcing his hand into her sex.

  “Moregon, please,” she begged, and his fingers brushed against her swollen clit.

  He sat up, and Aketa had a flash of panic that she’d done something wrong, but he grabbed the top of her dress and yanked it down. Her breasts popped free, the old fabric groaning under the strain but holding. With a moan of his own Moregon pressed his face into her breasts, licking and sucking at the inner curves. His finger, rough with calluses and much larger than her own, pressed into her sex, stretching her, opening her.

  Aketa moaned and bucked, clenching her fingers in his hair.

  He reacted immediately, shifting to bite and suck her nipple. Aketa realized she’d done little to show him her appreciation. Vowing to pleasure him after this interlude concluded, Aketa touched the bits of him she could reach.

  With one hand fisted in his hair, she slid the other under the collar of his shirt, running her hands along the ropes of muscle along his shoulders and back.

  He shifted, his mouth releasing her nipple.

  Aketa pulled his hair, forcing lips back to her nipple, arching her back to demand that he continue to pleasure her.

  Moregon went absolutely still, and Aketa again feared she’d done something wrong.

  Moregon’s mouth latched onto her nipple with a vigor that made a mockery of what had come before it. He took a mouthful of breast, sucking and biting, then drawing back to toy with just her nipple. He sucked it between his teeth and bit down on it, flicking the captured bud with his tongue.

  Aketa’s eyes went wide and her head thrashed side to side, and pleasure so exquisite it was almost pain coursed through her. She forgot to keep her right side turned away; she forgot everything except him.

  His finger pumped in and out of her sex, which had grown accustomed to its size. With no break in rhythm, Moregon added a second finger, pushing it into her wet sex with firm determination. Aketa’s hips bounced off the ground, her mouth opening and closing without sound.

  His thumb rubbed her clit, the hard edges of his calluses bumping over her soft flesh, and that was all it took to lift Aketa to orgasm.

  She screamed in pleasure, a high sound, raw with truth and devoid of artifice.

  His lower body slipped between her hips and he braced himself on his forearms. The front of his pants pressed against her sex. Aketa lifted her legs, cradling his hips. She reached down between their bodies, fingers scrambling to free his cock.

  “Wait,” he murmured against her neck.

  “Why?” Aketa demanded, struggling to reach his waistband.

  “We should not do this.”

  “Why?”

  “Aketa, stop.”

  Her fingers still and slowed. Moregon propped himself up on his arms, looking down at her. It was so dark she couldn’t see his face, only the glint of some reflected light off his eyes. Her only comfort was that the same darkness hid her.

  “Why must we stop?” she asked.

  Moregon continued to gaze down at her. Silence stretched, almost as if he were waiting for something from her, but Aketa could not understand what it could be. It was she who’d asked a question that hung in the air, answerless.

  Moregon pulled away. The removal of his body heat chilled her flesh even as fear over the reason for his retreat chilled her soul.

  “Forgive me for taking advantage of you,” he said, back to her.

  “You did not take advantage of me. I want what you did. And more,” Aketa stammered.

  “I was feeling restless, so I took a walk, to feel the ground under my feet and smell growing things. But that is a lie. I realize now that I came here tonight hoping to find you.”

  “You did?” Aketa’s heart fluttered, but his next words stopped it.

  “What we did here tonight was wrong.”

&n
bsp; “Why?”

  “I am not to interact with any of you save at the pre-arranged tests.”

  His mention of the other girls hurt her, and Aketa rubbed the heel of her hand over her bruised heart. He was still thinking about them.

  “I do not regret this. I don’t understand your tests, but I fear I will not fare so well in them. What if I cannot win?”

  “Do you wish to win? To be my wife?”

  Aketa scrambled to her feet and ran to Moregon, grabbing his shoulders as though she would shake him. “How can you doubt that I want that?”

  “I am not the prize you think.”

  “You are more than someone like I could ever hope to have. You are handsome and strong and kind and?”

  “You do not yet know all.”

  “What is this mystery that you speak of? Can you not tell me?”

  “No, the Queen feels its best to proceed slowly. If any of the girls shows disgust or reluctance there is time to remove them from the competition.”

  “Disgust of what? Over what we saw tonight? That was, it was… Why do you think I was out here touching myself? Is that what you want? A woman you can treat this way? I am willing.”

  “If that were all I wanted, all I needed, I would not have participated in this farce.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You will. Tomorrow you will be shown the other side, something more in line with what I need.”

  “I will be what you need if you only tell me,” she begged. Aketa regretted the words the moment they were out of her mouth. These stolen moments with him in the dark of night did not mean that he favored her over any of the other girls. How quickly she had forgotten what a poor prize she was.

  Aketa stepped away, turning her back to him. “I am sorry for intruding,” she whispered, voice soft, fading away to the muteness she took as a defense.

  “There is nothing you have to be sorry for. I am sorry I am not a better man. I am sorry to put you through this.”

  Aketa did not respond.

  He left her there, his footsteps muffled by the soft grass, and that same grass muffled her sobs as Aketa threw herself to the ground and wept for the foolishness of dreams.

  Chapter 12

  Aketa lagged behind the others, her emotions in chaos.

  She’d only just fallen asleep after sneaking back into the castle, when the bell was rung for breakfast. Exhausted, she’d slumped in front of her breakfast, so consumed by her thoughts that she didn't take more than two bites of the delicious food.

  After washing and dressing for the day, Aketa lay back down on the bed, letting her thoughts consume her. On one hand she was angry, both at herself and Moregon. At herself for assuming things, and with Moregon for his secrecy. She’d contemplated quitting, simply getting up and walking out of the castle. But she was not angry enough for that.

  Stuck between her unwillingness to quit and her anger and hurt, Aketa took no action before the Queen came for them.

  “Good morning, ladies. I hope you are prepared for what you will face today. Did you discuss what you saw yesterday?”

  “No, your Majesty,” they murmured.

  “Good. Are you prepared to leave?”

  “We are,” Sornes said, “though I fear Aketa has neglected to change her gown, again.” The other three giggled.

  Aketa, standing in the back, only half listening, started on hearing her name. She looked up, her movement quick enough that her scarf almost fell back. Aketa caught it, tugging it back into place, hoping it hid her flush of shame. All of the other girls had changes of garment, as their families had returned to the castle with additional clothes.

  Even if Aketa had sent word to her family that she needed additional garments they could not have brought any. This was the only dress she had.

  “I see,” Cryessa said, but she was looking at Sornes, not Aketa. “We will not worry about that for today. Come with me, please.”

  They made their way down the hall, and Aketa lagged to the back. As if her internal struggles were not enough, now she was aware of how very poor she seemed in comparison to the others. Their bright gowns, glossy hair, and delicate manners were as far from Aketa’s own lumbering as the moon was from the sun. Nothing would ever come of this.

  It was no wonder Moregon had responded as he had last night. Whatever intimacy they found together in the dark of night was little to compare to being able to display one of these dazzling beauties as a wife. What use was a farm girl in comparison to that?

  They reached their destination, the same chamber as yesterday, and filed in. All save Aketa who stood in the doorway, unsure what to do.

  The resolve to suffer anything, defeat any odds, in order to win him, had fled in the face of what had happened between them last night. She was back to feeling like a foolish girl who was reaching too high.

  Queen Cryessa appeared before her.

  “Aketa, do you wish to withdraw?” she asked in low tones.

  Slowly, Aketa shook her head.

  “I will see that you have new garments, so do not worry over what Sornes said.”

  Aketa nodded.

  The Queen cocked her head to the side. “That is not all that troubles you, is it?” She closed her eyes, and Aketa felt a tingling warmth press against her face. The Queen opened her eyes. “Know this. Moregon will not be an easy man to love. The choice to be what he needs lies in you. He has fallen so far into the darkness that he cannot find a way out on his own. He needs a guide to lead him back into the sunlight.”

  With those cryptic words, the Queen stepped into the chamber.

  Aketa hurried to follow, mind whirling.

  Moregon needed her.

  Her resolve firmly in place, Aketa turned her attention the man who stood before them.

  Lord Anleeh looked every inch the powerful noble. His tunic and pants were of the finest leather and velvet, embossed with rich patterns. His eyes were sharp and intelligent, taking their measure in a single glance.

  He waited until they were all well settled, until the silence had grown to suspense.

  “Welcome, ladies. I trust that you enjoyed what you saw yesterday. Perhaps you found the use of the crop frightening, perhaps, after a time, that fear became arousal.”

  They all shifted slightly in their seats, and Anleeh smiled.

  “What you will see today is similar in nature, but at the same time very unnatural. It is the way of our world that the man protects the woman, that he pursue her, and this natural order can lead to the type of play you saw last night: that of a man dominating a woman.

  “What you will see today is the reverse of that, and something you might not find attractive. When a woman dominates a man, it is savage. A man must check his strength when he dominates a woman, lest he hurt her. He protects her even as he applies his hand to the flesh of her ass.

  “A woman must show no mercy. If she is to dominate a being who is stronger, she must be clever, ruthless, and demanding. And if she is to bring pleasure to her man with these things, she herself must enjoy them also.”

  Lord Anleeh stepped to the side, and a robed couple took his place. As yesterday, they were masked and hooded, though this pair wore masks much more concealing than those of yesterday.

  The woman again wore a bird mask, though this was one of a hawk, which covered the whole of her face, save her chin and lips, and even concealed her hair. Her partner wore a similar mask with the features of a hunting cat; his hair, pulled into a tail at the back of his neck, was left exposed.

  They both wore cloaks of midnight blue.

  The woman turned to the man, who was taller, broader, stronger, than she. She ripped the cloak from his shoulders, exposing his nakedness.

  The suddenness of the act caused Aketa to gasp. She looked away, embarrassed to see the man thus, but looked back almost immediately, because he was by far the most compelling naked man she’d ever seen.

  He reached for the woman’s cloak, but she slapped his hands away. He gr
abbed her by the shoulders, but she grabbed his soft cock, squeezing it in her fist, until he grunted in pain and released her. With her free hand the hawk grabbed the man’s hair, using it as a handhold to force him to his knees.

  She stepped away, and he started to rise, but she reached down, this time grabbing his balls. He yelled in pain as she squeezed his sac. She pulled down until he was not just kneeling, but sitting back so his ass rested on his heels. The hawk touched the inside of his knees with her bare toes, and he spread them for her. His cock and sac were wholly exposed this way.

  The hawk stepped back, leaving him alone and on display before them. Aketa looked at his masked face, searching for some sign of his emotions. The grimace of pain slipped from his lips after a time, and the man appeared to be entirely at peace.

  There was a rattle of chain and the woman stepped up behind him. She held up a pair of manacles, letting them see the short length of chain between the cuffs.

  The hawk stroked the hunting cat’s arm, kneading his muscles as she worked her fingers down to his wrists. She snapped the first manacle in place, and then drew up sharply. The man grunted as his arm was pulled up and back. He leaned forward slightly. The woman grabbed his free wrist, drew it back with sharp motions, and locked it in place.

  She released him and the man straightened. His breathing was low and deep, his lips parted, and his cock rock hard.

  Aketa’s dawning horror at what she saw began to fade. Yesterday there had never been any doubt about the woman’s desire, but watching the man be treated thus, was something to be feared. But he enjoyed it. She did not yet fully understand the why or how of his enjoyment, because it seemed foreign that a man would enjoy losing control in this way, but Aketa vowed to discover these things, to understand them so she could master whatever skill this display was meant to teach them.

  The woman was petting the man, her man. She stroked his shoulder, the muscles of his chest, his belly. Kneeling beside him she stroked the inside of his thighs, which caused his cock to bob in the air, but she did not touch it.

  Turning her attention to his face, she stroked his lips. When the man lapped at her hand with his tongue, she pressed two, then three fingers into his mouth. She forced his head back, her fingers pushing deeper, until he made a gagging sound. The woman pulled her fingers free, wiped her hand on her cloak, and then began again, stroking his face. This time he did not lick her hand until she bid him by teasing his mouth open with her thumb and playing with his tongue.