Bound

by Lila Dubois

  “B-breasts,” she stuttered out.

  Whistle, crack.

  The cane laid a stripe diagonally across her breasts, falling below her left nipple but above her right.

  Aketa screamed.

  “Do not fight the pain, you cannot. You can only accept it. Accept that pain and pleasure are mine to give you. Give up control of your body. You are safe here. In the chains there is no uncertainty, no choice to weigh on you. You are free here. No one exists here but you and I.”

  No one could touch her here. No one could hurt her. Her family was not here, there were no prying eyes peering into the shadows over her face.

  “Give yourself to it. Sink into the chains. Raise them as your shield between yourself and the world. Look at me.” He dangled a small chain in front of her face. “Watch.”

  His hands smoothed over her breasts, stroking her. She whimpered as his fingers fluttered over her welts. The contrast of his dark skin on her white breasts was fascinating. He lifted the small chain, grasping something on the end. He pinched it, and the other side opened. It was a clamp, set with small, dull teeth.

  Rohaj flicked her left nipple until it was erect. He brought the clamp to it, until the open jaws surrounded her nipple.

  “Watch.”

  He released the clamp.

  Aketa screamed, throwing her head back. It hurt, her nipple burning. “No more, no more,” she panted.

  “That is not your decision to make. Let yourself go. What is done to you is no longer your choice, no longer your decision. Relax into the chains.” He pulled her head back by the hair, so this time she could not see what was happening. He toyed with her right nipple. Each time he stopped touching her she tensed, sure the next thing she felt would be the clamp on her nipple, but it did not come.

  Eventually Rohaj released her hair and knelt. His fingers pinched one lip of her sex, pulling it down and away from her body. It was not comfortable, but also not painful. There was a tug at the chain attached to her nipple, and Aketa bowed her head, expecting to see the second clamp about to bite down on her right nipple. Instead Rohaj snapped it down on the lip of her sex. The pain was sudden and sharp, coming from a place she hadn’t anticipated, and all the more acute for the surprise.

  Rohaj caught her face in his hands, holding her head as she shuddered and sobbed.

  “That’s right. There is nothing for you to fight. What I do to you will be done, by my will. You have no control.”

  Aketa nodded desperately. Rohaj caught up the chain, tugging it gently.

  Aketa’s mind filled with a pale buzz, like a distant beehive. Each word Rohaj spoke made perfect sense. Her life had been filled with so many things, hard things. She had so many secrets, so much pain. But here there was only pain of the body, and her mind was free.

  He tugged the chain again and Aketa licked her lips. Rohaj dipped his fingers into her sex, rubbing her clit. It was not until he touched her that Aketa realized she was aroused and wet.

  “No,” she stammered, snapped from her daze. The buzzing receded. “Please, not that.”

  “What?” Rohaj asked, fingers still casually in her sex.

  “Please, I do not want to-to find release. I do not want to find pleasure with anyone but Moregon.”

  “It is natural, you are letting yourself go. You are enduring things you barely understand.”

  “Please, do not make me do that. I can only promise you my mind does not want it.”

  “You have no control here,” Rohaj said, tone harsh. “If I wish you to find pleasure then you will orgasm until you do not know your own name. But you will be punished for disobeying.”

  Aketa shuddered in relief. She would rather have pain than pleasure. She wanted to know, in her heart, that she’d been faithful to Moregon. She endured this for him, and would do her best to be true to him in the process.

  Rohaj released her arms, which fell to her sides. Needles prickled her fingers as the blood returned in a rush. She would have fallen, her legs being too far spread for her to find balance, if Rohaj hadn’t put his shoulder to her belly and lifted her.

  Aketa curled her fingers, trying to return feeling to her hands as quickly as possible. It took her a moment to realize that they were walking towards the dark wall, the one Rohaj had disappeared into.

  They passed through the seemingly solid wall as though it had not been there.

  This second chamber was much more refined than the first. Here the floor was polished stone, covered in rugs in a few places, and there were furnishings.

  But these furnishings were unlike any she’d ever seen. It wasn’t until she noticed the stocks that Aketa became suspicious of their uses.

  Rohaj set her on her feet and then pushed her to lie back on a small table. Her back had barely come down before he grabbed the spreader bar and lifted her legs with it. He raised her legs until they were perpendicular to her body, the soles of her feet to the ceiling. He set the bar into a pair of hooks that dangled from chains.

  He took her wrists and buckled them into cuffs. Long thongs dangled from the cuffs. Rohaj went to a small drum in the floor and turned the crank. The chain winched up and Aketa’s legs rose with them. As her ass and then lower back came up off the table she struggled to support herself with her arms as her body rose at an angle.

  When only her shoulders remained on the table Rohaj stopped. He slid his arm under her back, lifted her slightly, and pushed the table away. He lowered her slowly, until Aketa hung upside down, suspended by her legs.

  She stretched her hands to touch the floor, but Rohaj caught her by the thongs attached to her cuffs and pulled her hands up. He tied the thongs from her left cuff around her left thigh, then the same to the right, forcing her hands alongside her body.

  Aketa gasped as blood filled her face.

  “I have done this in order to raise your pussy to the perfect height for me to inspect.” Rohaj spread the lips of her sex with two fingers, and Aketa whimpered. There was nothing she could do to stop him, to change this. There was nothing she could do, and so there was nothing she had to do.

  “Your pussy is beautiful naked. I can see the residual wetness. Very pretty.”

  He moved around to her back and pried open the cheeks of her ass.

  “Moregon took you here, with his fingers?”

  “Yes,” Aketa whispered.

  “Then I will use something much larger.” His fingers left her and she heard him walking away and returning. He crouched down by her face and held up a shiny silver object, like the one the woman had used in the demonstration.

  “You’ve seen one of these. It is called a plug. It is used because once it is in you there will be no way for you to forget that there is someone who rules your body. It is a reminder of the chains, a way to feel that safety.”

  Aketa nodded, noting his words the way an obedient student would.

  He stood and moved back to her ass. Something cold dripped over her puckered hole. Aketa could not help but clench her ass in fear.

  “Relax,” he demanded. “I will not ready you with my fingers, you must take it all.”

  Something hard and cold, the tip of the plug, pressed against her asshole.

  Rohaj applied pressure, the chain creaked, and Aketa cried out as the plug forced its way in. It was tapered, the end much thinner than Moregon’s two fingers, but as he pushed, forcing it inside her, it widened to a painful degree. Aketa was soon panting and crying with every breath, sure her body could take no more.

  Finally there was relief, and her body closed around the narrow end. Rohaj tugged at it, making sure it was fully situated. He then lifted her shoulders, sliding the table back into place, and lowered her legs.

  Aketa lay, panting and gasping, on the table. She shifted slightly and the plug moved inside her. Rohaj braced one hand on the table by her head and leaned over her.

  “Now is time for pleasure,” he said, settling his hand on her sex.

  “No,” Aketa said faintly.

&nb
sp; Rohaj slapped her sex, “What was that?”

  “You, you can touch me. But I won’t find pleasure in it. Hurt me, teach me these things so I will be a good wife to him, but I want no touch for pleasure save his.”

  Aketa forced the words out between clenched teeth, sure it would earn her some hideous punishment. Hoping it would goad him into punishing her rather than pleasuring her.

  Rohaj picked up the chain attached to the clamps. Idly, he tugged it, then with a vicious yank, pulled both clamps off.

  The next few moments were a haze of pain. When Aketa came back to her senses, she found herself seated on a thin mat against one wall. Her arms were folded behind her back and bound in place. Her legs were still separated by the spreader bar, and a heavy collar graced her neck. A chain from the collar led to a bolt in the floor.

  The plug was still inside her.

  Aketa maneuvered her legs until they were both curled to the side, though lewdly spread by the bar, and she could lean her shoulder against the cold wall.

  She looked around the chamber, stomach clenching as she imagined herself in the grip of each fearsome device. Looking back, she realized that she could see the other room, the one of rough stonewalls. The manacles dangled empty from the ceiling.

  This chamber had a shimmering black wall, opposite the one they’d come through. Aketa’s stomach knotted as she realized there might be still more rooms beyond this one.

  She would endure. For Moregon.

  Thinking of him brought her a measure of peace. She remembered his blue eyes, his smile. She stopped herself from thinking of the time they’d spent in the candlelit room, not wanting to arouse herself with the memories and betray her vow to find no pleasure at Lord Rohaj’s hands.

  Now that she had a moment to think, Aketa began to understand. She remembered the moments of peace and freedom she’d felt in the chains. It was alluring, the idea of giving up all control, of relinquishing yourself to another. If she’d felt it after only half a night, what must it have been like for Moregon to touch that sensation day after day for many years?

  Addictive. It was addictive, and Moregon needed it. She understood.

  But could she do to him what had just been done to her?

  Chapter 25

  Aketa fell into a waking doze. She was not comfortable enough to be truly sleep, as her arms and legs both ached, but after all she had been through her mind took advantage of the quiet time to rest.

  When Rohaj returned there would be a reckoning, she was sure of it. He would not allow her disobedience to go unchecked.

  The sound of footsteps woke her. For a moment she thought she heard two sets of steps, but when she looked up there was only Rohaj. A black leather object dangled from his fist.

  “It is not your place to choose pleasure or pain. I will give you pleasure, and you will take it.”

  Aketa stiffened.

  “But,” Rohaj said, dropping to one knee and cupping her cheek, “I respect your resolve to be true to Moregon. He is my brother, and he deserves a woman who carries such resolve.”

  Aketa smiled. She knew her smile was not a pretty sight, not when it made her scar all the more apparent, but Rohaj smiled in reply.

  “That is why I will allow you to pretend it is Moregon who touches you.”

  Aketa’s smile died. “That is not the same.”

  “It is the best you will get. You will wear this.” He held up the leather object in his hand. “You will not be able to see or hear.”

  Aketa shook her head. Rohaj caught her chin, tilting her face up.

  “Would you know Moregon’s touch from that of another man?”

  “Yes.”

  Rohaj nodded and, while still holding her head steady, slipped the leather hood over her head. The mask covered her face from nose to forehead, buckling behind her head. Heavy padded pieces covered her ears, held in place by a second strap that fastened at the nape of her neck.

  The silence was deafening and immediate. Aketa could hear nothing.

  Rohaj stepped back, looking at the captive girl. Cryessa stepped away from the wall where she’d been hiding.

  “You were right to call me,” Cryessa said. “We’ve done them enough harm. We should give them this.”

  “She will know it is Moregon,” Rohaj said with certainty.

  “Love knows its own in the darkest night,” Cryessa said.

  With Rohaj at her side Cryessa walked through the dark wall of the chamber. Like the first, this wall fell, revealing the last section of the chamber. This room contained only two pieces: an ornate throne and a cage.

  The throne was empty, but the cage was occupied.

  Moregon knelt within the cage. His wrists were manacled together behind his back, his chest and shoulders draped with links of chain that stretched to the bars of the cage. A heavy collar around his neck was attached to the roof of the cage by two lengths of chain.

  It had taken that much to keep him from breaking through the bars, or breaking himself in an attempt to escape.

  Cryessa raised her hand, and the air shimmered. The chains clinked as she unlocked them. It was too dangerous for them to open the cage and unchain him themselves.

  Throughout it all Moregon spared not one glance at them. His attention was on Aketa.

  Cryessa was shaking with effort by the time he was free of the chains, but before she opened the cage door she used a three foot length of chain to attach the manacles on his wrists together in front of him.

  Rohaj took up a long staff and positioned himself in front of Cryessa before she opened the cage door. The precaution was not necessary.

  Moregon crawled from the cage. His muscles must have been stiff after a night spent in the cage, but that did not hinder him.

  Moregon stopped, panting, and struggled to his feet, the chain clinking. He clenched his fists, fingers shaking as the blood slowly returned. With halting steps he went to Aketa, pace quickening as he reached her.

  He dropped to his knees beside her.

  “Aketa,” Moregon whispered, knowing she could not hear.

  She’d recoiled when he came down beside her. Though she could not hear or see she could not doubt feel his presence. But she did not know it was him.

  Moregon cupped her cheek, thumb stroking her lower lip, brushing over the scar there.

  Aketa, who had first leaned away from his hand, stilled. Deliberately, she rubbed her face against his palm, feeling the calluses with her cheek. Moregon fluttered his fingers over the path of her scars, tracing the line the scythe had made.

  “Moregon?” she asked, voice too loud.

  “Yes,” he replied, taking her face in his hands, “I am here.”

  Aketa turned her head and kissed his palm. Her lips slid to his wrist, where they encountered the cold metal of the cuff. She jerked back.

  Moregon lowered his hands to her legs, pressing the manacle to her thigh and then dragging the chain across it, showing her without sight that he was bound too.

  “Why?” she asked.

  There was no answer to give her, so he kissed her.

  Moregon took her face in his hands once more. He sipped from her lips, tasting her fear, her bravery. Her lips were soft, save for the line of scar, which he feathered with kisses of its own.

  She sucked his lower lip and licked the corners of her mouth. The kiss broke, and Moregon leaned his forehead against hers. Their breath mingled.

  They were captives, prisoners, and the only comfort they had was each another.

  Moregon slid his hands down her neck, over the collar and down to her breast. With featherlight fingers he traced the welt left by the cane.

  Aketa raised her chin, “I don’t regret it. You are worth it.”

  “You should not have suffered this. You should not have been made to endure this,” he said, keeping his lips on her cheeks so she would know he was answering her.

  The only thing he could do to make it up to her would be to offer her the release of sweet pleasure.


  He lifted her breasts and bent his head, taking each nipple into his mouth in turn and sucking gently. He was careful of the nipple that had been so harshly abused by the clamp, and blew on the wet flesh, cooling it.

  Aketa made soft sounds of pleasure, sighs and whimpers that he found incredibly sexy.

  He kissed her belly, lapped her navel, and blew cool air across the welt he found there.

  He kissed her upper arms and shoulders, her neck.

  Moregon lavished her with kisses and soft touches, paying special attention to those places that had seen the worst abuse. He had to force himself not to think back upon the visual memory of Rohaj administering the training or the rage that had caused him to lash out would rise again.

  He knew Cryessa had locked him in the Training Room cage so that he could see her, but he wished she had not. Watching Aketa being abused that way, watching her struggle to understand and learn the dark world he moved in, all while remaining sweetly loyal, had hurt him.

  It was not a hurt of the flesh, though he had many from his days in bondage and a sound whipping from Cryessa after his attack on Rohaj, but a hurt of the soul. She deserved better than him. She deserved a man who could protect her, take her away from all pain, all suffering.

  But he was selfish, and he wanted her, needed her.

  Moregon eased Aketa onto her back. She was lying on her hands in this position, so Moregon quickly lifted the spreader bar and ducked under it, until his shoulders were between her spread legs. Aketa smiled as he did it.

  “I like this,” she said, voice echoing as she could not hear herself.

  Moregon slid his hands under the small of her back, careful to avoid her beaten ass, and lifted.

  His arms strained with effort, but he was able to lift Aketa off the ground. She gasped, head falling back. Moregon shifted his legs so he was sitting with his knees bent, feet in front of him. He slid Aketa forward until her sex was close to his face, her thighs around his ears. He braced his elbows on his legs.

  When he was done Aketa rested on him, her legs on his shoulders, her back on his hands, her head dangling. It was petty, but Moregon wanted her to know his strength, especially now.