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3/3 - Different
Types Of Bindings
I do not believe she awoke when I
carefully put her bindings back on her wrists and ankles.
She is unlike me a deep and trusting sleeper; an
ability that I both envy and despise.
I hardly ever sleep totally and all at
once.
Unless I am sick or wounded, there is
always, always a part of me that remains on guard and will go
into action when necessary.
I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for
that.
I found my clothes and shoes and left her
room quietly, made my way past the servant women who were
always on guard for they could do no other and went through
the failsafe system of three doors, all separately guarded by
my branded men until I was finally clear of the palace and the
blindness it laid upon me.
The night air was excellent and so was
the ability to perceive and range once more restored.
In truth, I can imagine that she would
find it very difficult to not have access to her magic, nor
any hope to regain it. Perhaps I should not have told her I
would keep her in the palace forever. Perhaps I was being
overly unkind to confine her thus. I would put my thoughts to
consider different types of bindings.
She seemed very calm and balanced but I
did not trust her; I knew her too well for that. However, it
truly did strike me when I felt my own resurgence of –
completeness upon leaving the circle and the building with
some force that she would do probably almost everything to
find this completeness for herself again.
On the far side of the island, I had
created a house for myself.
Here, an outcrop of bedrock formed a
perfect shell for a short stay; and it did occur to me that I
might extend this and move the library from Tower Keep and
give up that on that residence and settle down here for a
time.
The house only contained five rooms at
this point and I had not sought to decorate the bare stone
walls.
I had a bedroom and a washroom and that
was quite sufficient for now.
I stepped across the little whore I had
brought back from Merina for experimental purposes who was
lying curled up on the floor by the foot of the bed she was
not allowed to enter without my permission, folded my clothes
with care and lay down myself, stretching and contemplating
how satisfactorily everything had put itself into its rightful
place.
The Serein were no more, the kingdoms
were returning to order and Malme’s line would be restored
in due course.
And I, personally, had a wife who was
bearing my son, a judicious seat on the council that could not
easily be removed nor forgotten by the passing of time, legal
control over my father’s lands and the ability to fuck
without killing.
Ah, indeed, there was much to be grateful
for.
I flexed and allowed myself to stretch
and reach into the pattern worlds around me and beyond me,
scanning far and wide all in an instant, recognising and
knowing creatures, men, even plantlife and beyond that, the
fabric of the earth and rocks, and beyond that further still,
the various pulses of the ocean that was all the stars in the
sky.
All of it wide open and ready to be
teased, twitched, rippled at my command, at my will.
What a wonder this was, bestowed upon me
by my former apprentice.
I focussed in on the little whore from
Merina. There had been three of them but I chose this one, not
so much for her looks (although she did have unusually large
breasts) but for her mental resilience.
She was not given to hysterics and
already well versed in how to please a man; she was afraid of
me, of course, and feared for her life, of course, but kept a
good level of balance and the hope that her compliance would
see her through.
In spite of a previous, most satisfactory
encounter with my dear wife – ah, it thrills me to even
think it like that – my wife! – I was still feeling
somewhat energetic and in a good mood.
I lay with my eyes closed and my hands
behind my neck, tracing the little whore in her totality.
She was dirty.
I considered various options to remedy
the situation and then decided to try something I’d never
done before, and that was to translocate her by herself. The
lake was only a stone’s throw in actual distance from here
but controlling her without being physically present would
represent a challenge.
I concentrated tightly on her, created a
parameter to be able to ensure that all of her would remain in
one piece, braced myself and pushed her.
Her pattern winked out in the room and
simultaneously re-appeared way too high above the lake; I
laughed out loud for I had seriously miscalculated her
position and if I had tried to do this on dry land, she would
have broken bones with certainty.
As it was, there was a short scream and
she splashed into the water, freezing cold onslaught that
transmitted enough to make my skin respond in kind.
I left her thrashing for a while and
before she lost consciousness, brought her back, being more
careful this time and ready to catch her should she be too
high.
She landed well enough, limbs still flailing
within the confines of her shackles, dripping wet and
coughing.
I laughed whilst I dried her swiftly,
undid her bindings with a simple thought and ordered her to
join me.
She complied with little hesitation
although she was much shaken up by the experience. A resilient
little whore, indeed.
I looked up at her, fresh and clean, her
wavy dark hair reaching down to her ass and in tangles, her
big breasts dropping already although she was only young under
their own sheer weight, and her round hips. Her skin was a
nice shade of pale, spoilt here and there by bruises and cuts
from our last encounter. I healed them briefly and it did
improve her overall appearance.
She knelt cautiously on the bed, close to
the edge, unsure what I wanted from her.
I was unsure myself.
I had spent a very long time indeed in a
special cage of Sepheal’s making. It was supremely well
constructed and no matter what I had tried over the decades,
the centuries to break free from the entrainment, it had held
me true and well.
Sepheal’s cage had caused me much
frustration.
Indeed, it was truly only when one set me
free from it that I appreciated the depth of frustration.
I smiled to myself. Frustration makes for
a good driving force to power other endeavours. If I had to
think of how to go about to make sure that one like me would
keep on doing what I was doing, it must be said that I
couldn’t have thought up a better plan than what Sepheal had
executed upon me.
Over the centuries, I had watched others
go about their business, not by design but purely by default.
As much as I had endeavoured to keep myself away from those
who wore faces not unlike mine, walked on legs not unlike mine
and spoke with a mouth that seemed like mine yet was so far
away that I often felt more kinship to a mountain top, or a
dried river bed – as much as I had endeavoured to keep
myself to myself, I had observed.
Marani was very fond of my guards when
she was young. Even as limited as my perceptions were then,
their rutting emanations were enough to shake me out of my
meditations and to break my sense of tranquility that I now
recognise was fragile then already.
I gesture the little whore to lie down
beside me, turn her on her side and lie behind her, putting my
arms around her. I bring to mind what I had learned from my
dear wife about what her dungeon lover did that excited her so
much and I cannot practice on her for she would recognise it
soon enough – sharp little witch that she is!
I don’t know why that thought makes me
smile again, but I set to work on this one here in my bed and
take her feedback through a comfortable one way link.
It is tempting to just take her passions
and flare them a little. It would be a most easy thing to do,
and indeed, I’ll try that another time.
I could scare her easily enough too or
perhaps have her respond with fear and terror, with disgust
perhaps, and compare what I like better.
Ah but this is truly a wonderful gift.
I try various movements, various
strengths and what excites her, I repeat and build upon, and
what does not, I put aside. Before even a quarter of her body
has been covered and long before my interest is satisfied, she
is writhing out of control and forgets her fear of me
entirely, disobeys her orders and turns to me, embraces me
with her arms and her legs and covers me in rapacious kisses.
I find it fascinating and let her do as
she will, lay back and watch both her and my own responses as
she impales herself upon me and takes her pleasure.
It is delightful to see her, hear her and
feel her and have a choice of control or to allow myself to
join her in that place and experience a discharge, or not.
To be able to lie here and feel these
things, to feel myself and not to have to respond in any
prescribed way.
It is delightful to have her collapse
upon my chest, her hands still raking my hair and to hear her
thank me and know she is alive.
It is delightful to know that Isca is not
the only one. I can have any woman I want now, I am not bound
to her in this way. It would be honest to admit that I had
hesitated finding out the truth about the matter, one way or
the other for fear that it would turn out that she would
always remain the only one.
It is delightful to know that I am free,
both from Lord Sepheal and from the Lady Isca.
“You have pleased me,” I inform her
and remove myself from her. “I will have food and clothing
brought for you.”
She lies on the bed, on her side, her
hips very round and sweeping and her eyes moist and locked
upon me.
“Thank you, my lord,” she whispers
and hopes I will not make her lie on the floor again. I turn
away so she cannot see my smile and pretend to forget to tell
her whilst I wash and get dressed.
I will go to Tower Keep this morning,
clear up some loose ends and find some books to keep my wife
amused. Perhaps she would find some interest of some of the
magical toys I used to collect at one time, too.
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