Bound

by Lila Dubois

  “There will be no sex, in the traditional sense. This training is about you, and teaching you what it means to be bound, what it means to submit. This will involve sexual aspects, and you will be touched intimately, but he will not have sex with you in the way that men and women do to make children.”

  Aketa perked up. Perhaps this time she would be able to pleasure Moregon, take him in her mouth.

  “You have the rest of the afternoon to prepare yourself Sornes. Amzel, Aketa, I will see you soon.” The Queen rose and left the chamber.

  Aketa, Amzel and Sornes followed her out, making their way slowly back to their shared chamber.

  “I shall not wear my new dress,” Sornes declared as she walked. “My own garments are more becoming.”

  “But Lord Anleeh designed it for you,” Amzel fretted.

  “I want to look my best for Moregon.”

  “I cannot believe that I will finally get to touch him,” Amzel cooed. “I’d quite despaired of ever seeing him. It seemed an odd way to get a wife. Though I understand why with such strangeness.”

  “Now we know what is really happening. After seeing the displays I thought perhaps he was requiring a wife who would be willing to satisfy not only him, but be willing to be used by others. I was willing for that,” Sornes said.

  “Ugh,” Amzel said, “I do not like the idea of being shared once I am married. I want my husband to love only me.”

  “Who said anything of love?” Sornes demanded in a scorching tone. “The Queen didn’t mention love. Moregon needs a strong woman, that’s what all these tests have been about.”

  But it is about love. I love him. Foolish girl that I am, I have fallen in love with him. I love him, and he will be mine, and I his.

  By the time they reached their chamber Sornes was practically running. As afternoon faded and sundown approached, Sornes grew more animated and vibrant. She looked beautiful, decked in a gown of velvet hues with her hair pinned up by a few combs. She was naked beneath the dress, purposefully so, rather than Aketa who was usually naked beneath her dress because she did not have under things.

  As the sun sunk into the western sky Aketa felt as though it were dragging her spirit down with it. In only a few short hours Sornes would be the one feeling Moregon’s hands on her body. She would be naked in his bed, flushed with the exquisite pleasure he could bring.

  As Amzel chattered worriedly about what exactly bondage and submission might mean, Aketa remembered the way it felt to be chained by him. She was tall and strong. She rarely felt physically weak, but Moregon had mastered her easily, both when she played at resisting and when she struggled in truth.

  From the gleam in Sornes’s eye and the way she repeatedly licked her lips, Aketa was sure that Sornes’s willingness would not be an issue.

  Nearly sick with heartache Aketa stripped off her dress and rolled herself into a ball under the blankets, willing her mind blank.

  The door opened and closed.

  Sornes was gone, into the arms of the man Aketa loved.

  Aketa bunched up a wad of covers, pressing it against her mouth to muffle her sobs.

  Chapter 21

  Cyressa stood at the Palace wall, looking out over the kitchen gardens. Far below, Aketa listlessly walked through the vegetables. She was back in the worn, dirty gown she’d arrived in, scarf over her head, shadowing her face.

  Cryessa had no special bond with the girl, but she felt her pain. Aketa was hurting, thinking that Moregon was in the arms of another woman.

  “You’re worried about her,” Tamlohn said, his arms around her waist, cheek resting on her head.

  “I am. She has suffered much.”

  “Her face?”

  “There is a scar there. Whatever caused that scar, whatever prompted her to fall silent… She was hurt, I believe that, and I think what we do here hurts her more.”

  “You think she loves him,” Tamlohn said, his tone making it clear that he’d just realized this.

  “I do.”

  “If their love it true…”

  “But that is what I do not know. Moregon has never had the chance to court a girl; he has no idea what it might be like. I fear that any attention, any connection, might be construed as love because it is new. I do not trust his love for her anymore than I would trust a young man’s protestations of love after his first kiss.”

  “And her? Does she love him?”

  “I don’t know, but I fear what she sees in him is an escape from her life. She is not from a farm, she is a farmer. Her hands have as many calluses as yours. A life as Moregon’s wife would be ultimate luxury and escape.”

  “I had not thought of that. Are these the thoughts that keep you awake at night?”

  She nodded, still watching Aketa. Tamlohn took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him.

  “You cannot punish yourself for what you did in the Temple. You did what you had to. Moregon will live the life he has, he has no regrets. None of us do.”

  “I am trying, but I cannot help myself. Mayhap with the rest of you I was correct, but I was too hard on him. I pushed him to the point that he can never return to a normal life. All the rest of you have found ways to function now. Rohaj and Sesah have both taken lovers, Anleeh has Siara. Only Moregon is unable to free himself from life in the Palace.”

  “He will survive.” It was not Tamlohn who spoke, but Rohaj, who’d come out onto the balcony with them. “How went last night with Amzel?” Cryessa asked.

  Rohaj grunted, folding his arms, “Well enough. She will do. As you planned, the tests weeded out those who had no hope of walking in this world.”

  “And what of the dark-haired one, Sornes?” Tamlohn asked, having not been there for Rohaj’s report yesterday morning.

  “She thinks she is too smart for it. She obeyed, disobeyed, and played me, all on her own terms. She was quite certain I would not really hurt her, and so expressed very little fear. When I walked into the room instead of Moregon, she hardly blinked. But she is smart and strong-willed. If she is the choice, she will have to be taken and trained, maybe back to the Temple training room. I didn’t want to break her that night as I did not have the time to put her back together.”

  “Tell me more about Amzel,” Cryessa demanded.

  “She was frightened when I walked in. When I told her I would be training her she asked if Moregon was allowing that. Her first thoughts were of him. She is a pretty one, and more apt to feel sexual pleasure, but there was no masochism in her. She wants pleasure as pleasure, and pain as pain. There is no overlap for her.”

  “If she can’t understand that for herself, would she ever be able to give Moregon what he needs?” Tamlohn asked.

  Rohaj shrugged “Possible. If she sees that it pleases him, she might be willing to do it, even if she cannot understand it.”

  “That is not real domination,” Cryessa said with a sigh. “He needs and deserves more. Putting him in bondage each night would not be enough over the course of a lifetime. He craves the crack of the whip and crop too much.”

  “Then she is eliminated?” Rohaj asked.

  “No, she stays, at least until tomorrow.”

  “You mean until after I put Aketa through her paces.”

  Cryessa nodded mutely. Rohaj heaved a sigh and uncrossed his arms, one hand rubbing the top of his smooth head.

  “What troubles you, brother?” Tamlohn asked.

  “She is his woman. He was willing to take on all of us for her.”

  “Rohaj, you know he needs more. If she is not able to give him what he needs, letting them fall for one another would be cruel. It could only end in heartbreak.”

  “You said he was with her before. Do you know what he did with her?”

  Cryessa laughed softly. “I was watching through his thoughts. It was a game to them. He told her I’d set down rules, and she did her best to help him follow them, because they were important to him. He spanked her, whipped her tits a bit, kept her in cuffs, but it was all s
exual. When he did finally begin to treat her like she was his to own and use, they were both so lost in the pleasure that it was nothing more than a sex toy.”

  Rohaj grunted. He leaned on the railing, head tilted back to the sky so the gold and ruby jewelry he wore caught the sunlight.

  “I will need to be harder on her than the others.”

  Cryessa started to shake her head, but Tamlohn, whose eyes were narrowed in thought, put his hands on her shoulders. “He’s right,” Tamlohn said.

  “That is not fair.”

  “Mayhap not to her, but to Moregon it is. You are the one who says he needs this. We are all secretly hoping it is her,” Rohaj said, putting into words what none of them had been willing to say. “Because he seems to already care greatly for her, and we want him to be happy, but if she cannot do this…”

  Cryessa nodded.

  “You are right, and fair is no longer a factor. The scales are already in her favor, for she has had a chance to interact with Moregon more than any of the others.” Cryessa turned to the railing, looking down at the gardens. Aketa was seated at the end of a row, her fingers moving listlessly over the feathered tops of carrots plants.

  “Take her to the Temple,” Cryessa said. “Take her to the Zinah’s Training room.”

  “That is, ah, perhaps a bit harsher than I’d planned.”

  “Do it. I do not wish to hurt the girl, but I value Moregon more greatly,” she laughed bitterly. “I am a terrible Queen, to sacrifice a young woman, subject her to what amounts to torture, all to ensure a friend’s happiness.”

  “You are a good Queen,” Tamlohn countered, “making choices to protect all the people. We need Moregon. She is only one girl. If there is need we will take care of her after it is over, bring her to the Palace or find her a post in the Temple.”

  Shoulders heavy with the weight of her decision, Cryessa left the wall, Tamlohn beside her. Rohaj turned and looked down at the girl whose life he was about to change forever.

  Chapter 22

  There was a room in the Temple that could not be found by any who had not been there before. Two loyal servants tended it, and continued to do so, despite the fact that the Priestess was now Queen and the chamber had not been used in nearly a full year.

  Once a month they would take their cleaning supplies and work over the room. They swept and dusted, scrubbed and washed.

  But they also took the time to polish the wood of the stocks and horse. They greased the chains that dangled from the ceiling and walls. They oiled the leather of cuffs, collars, and whips.

  They did not speak as they worked, and never talked about what was in that room.

  * * * *

  “Come with me,” the Queen said.

  Aketa jumped to her feet. Her stomach felt as though it were full of acid and her fingers shook with nerves. These past two nights had been some of the longest in her life. She’d cried, thrown things in anger, and walked among the vegetables for hours.

  It had changed nothing. First Sornes and then Amzel had left, going to Moregon, touching him, being with him.

  But now that was over, and it was her time to be with him.

  She’d put on the fancy dress they’d given her, along with the mask. She couldn’t wait for Moregon to see her in it. She’d looked at herself in an upright looking glass, the first time she’d ever done so, and was surprised by what she saw. In the dress she looked … beautiful.

  In her own mind she was small and weak, hunched in on herself. She knew of course that she was tall and big, more so than other women, but she felt small and weak. But when she looked in the mirror she saw a beautiful woman, whose body was statuesque, not grotesque.

  She was too tall and muscular to ever be considered pretty, as Amzel was, and too monochromatic, from her blond hair to tanned skin, to be striking, as Sornes was. But she was beautiful. For the first time in her life she believed it.

  The dress hugged her breasts and hips, the outer corset defining her waist. The corset had been made of black leather, and looked almost like armor. This was her battle garb in the fight for Moregon.

  The neckline of the dress covered much of her shoulders and cut in towards her collarbones before rising up in the freestanding collar that concealed the scars on her neck. What the dress did leave bare was a long swatch of skin from her neck down to her breastbone. The inner curves of her breasts, lifted and cupped by the corset, were exposed.

  Aketa followed the Queen, her fingers curling nervously.

  “You look very well in that dress. Lord Anleeh did you justice,” the Queen said, smiling.

  Aketa forced herself to nod in reply. The Queen was walking distressingly slow.

  “I saw you walking in the kitchen garden these past two days,” the Queen said.

  Aketa nodded.

  The Queen slowed her steps even more. “I know you are capable of speech. I would ask that you converse with me as we walk.”

  Aketa looked at the Queen, then nodded. She cleared her throat, knowing her voice would be rough after days without use.

  “Walking among the plants calms me.”

  “You feel close to the earth?”

  “I like the fields more than people.”

  “People are good, at the heart of it.”

  “Some,” Aketa conceded. There were many people in her life that were not so good.

  “You’ve been hurt,” the Queen said.

  Aketa touched her mask. “Long ago.”

  “But the wound still hurts.”

  “No, it has healed.”

  “Maybe your flesh has healed, but the wound is still there. Aketa,” the Queen came to a stop, “I want you to know that there are places you could go, if, after this is finished, you do not wish to return to your home.”

  She does not think you will win him. She is telling you this so that you do not get your hopes up.

  Panic, like hummingbird wings, fluttered in her chest. Aketa took a step back, then another, until her back hit the wall.

  Moregon fell in love with one of the others. He got to see them, speak with them, touch their bodies, which were not scarred by life and rough from work. They are ladies, fit to be the wife of a lord. You are not fit to be his wife. The Queen is telling you so. Foolish girl. Stupid girl.

  Aketa pressed her hands to her belly. She felt like she might be sick at any moment.

  “Aketa, no, forgive me. I was not careful with my words.” The Queen placed her hands on Aketa’s arms. Aketa flinched away.

  “I will tell you something I should not. I hope that you are Moregon’s chosen bride. Look at me and see the truth. I hope that you are the one he chooses. I think there is much you have in common, and I believe your heart is pure, and that you would love him.”

  Aketa went still.

  “I hope he chooses you, but before that can happen you must prove you can give him what he requires. So I hope that you learn what you must tonight. I did not mean to frighten you, only to let you know that there are places in this world for you besides your farm or as Moregon’s wife.”

  With those cryptic words the Queen stepped back. They fell into step, walking in silence. They walked much longer than normal. It took Aketa a moment to emerge from her thoughts, to realize they were once again in a part of the Palace she did not recognize. She’d assumed that they would return to that chamber she’d shared with Moregon before, but apparently they would not.

  The longer they walked, the more anxious Aketa grew. She’d been looking forward to this night. Once she got past the fact that he’d been with the others there had been only happy anticipation about seeing him and being with him once more.

  But the Queen’s words and this long trek were stealing anticipation and replacing it with anxiety.

  The Queen led her to a large chamber barren of furniture. It was a public space, meant for Palace functions. An empty archway stood near one wall.

  The Queen stroked the stone of the archway, “I have just now begun restoring this roo
m. It is the Altar room, a twin to the one in the Temple, but it fell to disrepair during the dark period.”

  The Queen looked at Aketa, who was nearly vibrating with tension. She laughed, “Forgive me. You don’t care about Altar rooms right now.”

  The Queen raised her hands to her sides, palm facing forward. The hair on Aketa’s arms stood on end as the air around the Queen began to crackle and tingle. The air grew dense, until Aketa could almost taste it.

  The Queen flipped her hands, palms now facing up and the archway filled with light, forming a shimmering doorway. The light in the doorway pulsed with colors, like oil upon water.

  The Queen rotated her wrists, palm down. The wavering light resolved into the view of another room. Aketa stepped to the side, looking behind the archway. There was nothing but a grey wall. She stepped back and looked through the archway. She could still see the other room.

  “Magic,” she whispered.

  The Queen took Aketa’s hand drawing her to the arch.

  “You must step through,” she said.

  “What will happen to me?”

  “Nothing. This is merely a door that takes you to a place that is as real as the one we stand in now.” The Queen, still holding Aketa’s hand, stepped through. Aketa wanted to balk and run, but Moregon was on the other side. She closed her eyes, held her breath and took a big step. Her skin prickled and her hair lifted away from her skin as she stepped through, but the sensation was over quickly.

  “You may open your eyes now,” the Queen said, amusement lacing her words.

  Aketa opened her eyes. The chamber around her was formed from sand-colored stone. There were runes and symbols covering every wall. An altar, decked with flowers, bowls of food, and candles dominated one wall.

  “Where are we?” Aketa asked in a whisper.

  “You are in the heart of the Temple, in the Altar room.”

  “We traveled all the way from the Palace to the Temple?” Each was nestled in one end of the valley. The entirety of the Great City lay between them. There was no way they could have traveled that distance in a single step.

  “As you said, magic.”

  Heavy footsteps sounded behind her, and Aketa started to turn, a smile on her face, but something stopped her. The air around her solidified, until it was like a clear case surrounding her.