In Serein

3-3-3 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.