4 comments/ 32242 views/ 4 favorites Slaves of Love Ch. 01 By: AlexandraBourne Author's Note: This is a love story with BDSM and some reluctance/non-consent elements that takes place in an imaginary world. Please enjoy! * "This ridiculous pickiness has to stop! Preferably, before you are through with the last eligible man of noble birthright." Dagon watched the scene unfold with a knowing smile. The Regent's midnight black eyes blazing with fury were a spectacle rarely to behold outside of her private chambers. Paternal pride made his chest swell as he watched his beloved daughter hold her ground. "Noble birthright will not allow me to release any bounded of mine like a common maid, those were your words Aunt, not mine. I am only trying to follow your advice to chose carefully and wise." The calmness of Selia's voice betrayed the rage she felt building inside. Arianna shot a misgiving glance at the stubborn girl's father that instantly wiped the smile off his face. Leaving him without a Mistress for so many years did definitely not become the man's behavior. She would have to deal with that matter another time, for now much more pressing issues had to be resolved. "Two weeks child. Two weeks and not another day longer. When the festivities of the full moon rise begin you will publicly announce your choice," the Regent declared leaving no room for discussion. "You better make sure she understands and lives up to her duties." She spat at Dagon, her eyes narrowing in a mute threat before she stormed out the door. The silence that fell over the Princess's chambers was broken by her audible sigh of relief. "Finally, I thought she would never leave!" Selia exclaimed, flopping down on her bed in a most unladylike manner. "I wish she would at least try to understand me." Her father had become her most trusted advisor over the years, another fact that the Regent often voiced her concerns about in the High Counsel. He would fill the child's head with foolish notions of equality and undermine her naturally powerful personality which was an essential characteristic of any future Empress. It was an opinion many of the matrons of high birthright residing in the Counsel shared, however, neither of them seemed to show much enthusiasm when it came to neglecting the late Empress' royal wishes. "And I wish you would at least make an effort to understand your Aunt better" came her father's scolding reply. The confused frown that appeared on the young woman's face made his eyes turn watery. There were moments, tiny gestures of his daughter even that reminded him so much at his beloved, that there was no way of ignoring the stabbing pain he felt inside. His melancholic smile lasted but a moment and turned soon thoughtful. "Arianna had to face responsibilities she had never been prepared for when barely older than a child. She spent the past two decades with her duty being the single focus of her life. You were but a newborn heiress, but I do remember the days when her bright eyes started to darken, her smile faded under the burdens of royal duty. She had been living the life that was assigned for your mother, she held up the honor of the royal house of Astor when the times were most dangerous, ensuring thereby your inheritance and right to the throne, questioned by so many due to my influence on your upbringing." Her arms were around him in an instant. "Oh father, you must not blame yourself! You only followed mother's last wish and I shall be always grateful for your insight and support." "I hope you will try to think of your Aunt and the sacrifices she has made with as much gratitude. She only wants what she considers to be best for you. What the royal law requires and your people expect of you. And I know, you will make all of us very proud when you announce your choice at the festivities" he added with an encouraging smile. Selia released her tight hold on him and started pacing the room thoughtfully. "My choice it is, isn't it? Yet have you seen the options I have? Man of noble birthright being paraded around by their greedy sisters and mothers like some breeding studs, their flattering words as false as the strained smiles on their lips. All they are after is the power bonding with the royal family means! Not a single one among them tonight wanted sincerely to be mine! The collar of the house of Astor is all their greedy hearts are set upon." Dagon certainly sympathized with his daughter. Most bondings of the noble houses were driven by common interests, lust for power as much as flesh, very few had the opportunity of mating out of the choice of their hearts. "Considering your social status, politics can be hardly helped my child" he offered weakly. "That is not true! You should know that better than anyone else!" she accused hotly, her passionate outburst soon to be taken over by a longing desire she felt tugging at her heart. "I have resigned to my fate father. I will accept the throne and all the responsibilities that come along, but is it so wrong of me to wish ... to hope for the same kind of love you and mother shared?" It was an argument that he couldn't fight, one he didn't even wish to. From the time on his beloved Selianna had passed away, the tiny newborn with his strawberry freckles scattered over her nose and cheeks had become his entire world. His nights were filled with grief and pain, barely to be soothed by the occasional dream in which he could hold his long gone Mistress once again. Yet with the first rays of sunshine came his only child's laughter into his world, ushering the inner darkness away with a single smile that graced her chubby little cheeks. There was nothing in this world he wished for more than Selia's happiness, praying to the shadows of the night to grant her a long, content and fulfilled life. "There is still time left, sweetheart. Your love may just be waiting around the corner. Try to be patient." ~o~~O~~o~ The night was a soothing balm, dreams offered a welcome escape. Alabaster skin many maids would envy glowed softly in the dim candle light. Arianna's eyes were fixed on the mirror as a servant freed her magnificent hair from its confining crown. Jet black silk fell past the shoulders of the pale image starring back at her. With the shimmering powders and paint gone from her face, the heavy chains of jewelry removed from her delicate neck and wrists, she looked decidedly fragile, a far cry from the mighty Regent she represented during the day. The years of intrigue and worry had taken their toil on the refreshingly natural beauty she once possessed. Delicate crow's feet had started building around her eyes. The smile of the woman in the mirror was strained, her posture tired, a broken spirit reflected in the empty depth of her black eyes. After slipping on her nightgown she dismissed the maid as quickly as the advances of her pets. Her anger had faded long ago, yet her determination only grew. She couldn't allow Selia to make her own mistake. A bonding was essential to ensure the continuity of the royal line of Astor and once she had claimed the throne, no man would be found worthy of being her mate. It was an ancient law, but one the enemies of their House surely hadn't forgotten. One established with good reason by the shadow's of old. She had suffered from the full burden of loneliness since the day she received news of her elder sister's misfortunate delivery and death. She had been so very young! An innocent child appointed as regent and caught up in the web of competing advisors and false friends. Learning her role quickly she balanced the thin line of power with success, watching her niece grow into a pretty and powerful young woman. Were it not for her father's influence and his foolish notions about love, Selia might have chosen a suitable mate long ago to give her the strength and support the lack of which had appointed the Regent to a slow yet inevitable decline. Few understood the destruction the lack of bonding could bring even to the most powerful women, but Arianna had to discover over the years that her health as much as strength started gradually slipping away. Her status didn't allow any signs of weakness, yet neither time nor the stubborn child's pickiness was on her side. She eased her body under the cool sheets with a sigh of relief just before the weakness overcame her again, her more and more fragile body paying its tribute to the torturing shadows of the night. The more her power was dwindling, the more her heart seemed to return to happier times in her dreams. Those few hours of escapism when she found sweet relief. Swimming in the crystal lakes of Errata, climbing the windy hills at the feet of the northern mountains, memories of playing tag with the children of their servants at Astor Castle, the country estate of her family. Gorren had been so young too. His chestnut hair always tousled, freely toyed with by the breeze coming from the lakes. She remembered his smug grin, the air of confidence she found so irresistible, how he would tug at her braid shamelessly, seemingly unaware of her birth right, unafraid of any consequences. She never saw the farmer's son again after being called back to the Royal Palace at the tender age of fourteen, yet had often wondered what woman might have tamed his flaring temper, who had the privilege to enjoy his smile every day. She had learned early on that as a regent one could only afford to have few secrets. Pleasures of the heart she couldn't have yet pleasure of the flesh she indulged in without shame. Man seeking her favor were numerous but even those she had collared were only there for enjoyment, lust and relief of stress. She had left her heart behind at the lakes of Errata, with a sense of duty taking its place. Time was slipping away; she could feel it more and more with every day passing. The dark cloak of the night still shielded most of her weakness from the curious eyes of the court. But she knew the time when she would have to resign was drawing dangerously near. ~o~~O~~o~ Dear Aunt, I have decided to consider my decision far away from the influences of the court for the two weeks you have graciously provided. I hope you will trust your upbringing of the past twenty-two years and will consider me grown up enough to grant me this short break from my duties. I hereby give you my word to return in time for the festivities of the full moon rise for my bonding with my chosen one. In the meantime, please worry not for I will be fine. Selia After ear dropping on a conversation between the regent's maids and learning that her aunt had already retired, Selia simply slipped the note under the door of her bedchamber and quietly tiptoed down the hallway. She knew her aunt would be anything but pleased in the morning to find it there, but it still seemed a better solution than asking her father to do the delivery and letting her wrath pour down on him. After all, Selia would fulfill her responsibilities but on her own terms. If her father was right and love might have been waiting just around the corner then she had much better things to do than sit around and suffer the flattery of men she didn't want and what was just as important, who didn't want to be hers. None of them would have paid attention to the girl with mousy brown curls and strawberry freckles were it not for her high birthright and her family's name. Putting on her oldest and most faded gown and securing a purse of gold around her waist, the young heiress slipped out into the dark streets of the town through one of the back doors only servants used. The yawning guard didn't even glance her way as she passed the gate. The streets looked dark and mysterious. The chilly night air soon proved her gown and the soft cloak over it an ineffective shelter from the wind that blew out several of the torches passer-bys carried around. After an hour the idea started to dawn on her that she might had been better off by escaping after supper. Her rumbling stomach seemed to confirm the idea. Her mind focused on food she walked down the street with delight after spotting a tavern at the far end of the main square. She never noticed the two shadows that had joined her, remaining ever only a few steps behind. "She looks nothing fancy" the younger of the two shadows pointed out in a whisper to his companion, his concerned face hidden by the darkness around. The taller figure merely shrugged his shoulders. "The hour is getting late. She will have to do" he decided, pulling out a big, rough sack from under his cloak. The irritation in his voice was obvious when he still saw hesitation on his companion's part. "Go now, or I'll do it myself!" he barked impatiently, making the other figure wince before they both disappeared into a dark alley. Driven by hunger and drawn by the inviting lights of the tavern, which promised a full stomach as much as warmth, Selia barely noticed bumping into the stranger. Disoriented for a moment, she fought and succeeded to keep her balance by bracing herself on the stranger's arm. "Watch your way," a decidedly male voice barked, before the shadowy figure moved on. A frown still on her face and hands on her hips she turned to see him disappear into a nearby alley. Perhaps her aunt had been right, common folk had hardly any manners! "What a brute! Someone ought to teach him manners." She murmured angrily, insult making her cheeks flush as much as the cold air. Suddenly her mouth fell wide open. The purse was gone! She made a run for the alley in an instant when understanding finally downed on her. Since the narrow little street was lacking any torches her eyes could hardly make out the entrance. Realizing there was no point in pursuing a thief in the darkness, she was about to turn back to the square, when a tall dark figure with surprisingly broad shoulders blocked her way. Ignoring him with her best grace she tried to maneuver her way around him. However, every time she tried to move he would always step in her way. Congratulations Your Highness! Robbed and trapped within an hour of having left the royal palace. Taking a deep breath to suppress her heartbeat that had started to flutter with nerves, she finally cleared her throat. "Let me pass this instant and no harm will come to you." She offered in her most authoritive voice. "Why should I?" the taller figure demanded in a deep baritone voice that made her shudder. "Because ..." she hated the insecurity creeping into her voice, "because robbery and stalking are both to be punished by the laws of this country." The hearty laughter her threat elicited from the man felt oddly humiliating. "Let me pass this instant, or you shall regret it dearly!" Panic. The shrill tone her voice was taking on, the fidgeting, her breathing growing shallower with every breath taken didn't escape the man's attention. It had become a sweet melody to his ears, almost as pleasant as the cries and pleading, the begging for mercy that would soon follow from the little mouse's luscious lips. He could practically smell her fear rising by the moment, the scent triggering the hunter's instinct inside his veins. Selia saw the tall man take a step sideways, his eyes glittering for a moment in the pale moonlight. "Why of course, a lady's wish always comes first." The girl stared at him without making a move, her breathing audible in the cool night air. Taking another few steps aside he leaned lazily against the wall of a house, his bemused eyes never leaving her worried face. "How is it my lady, don't want to leave me yet?" he inquired cynically. "Maybe you'd like to stay and play. I for one could use some company, had been lonely for way too long." He added winking at her playfully. The blood drained from Selia's face, this was no game for sure! She would have to distract him and make a run for it, she couldn't think of any other way out. "Sure." She offered plastering a strained smile on her face and inching her way towards the entrance of the alley. "You must forgive me for I mistook your advances for harm. If you'd like to play, let's go to my home and have some fun." The coquettish smile vanished from her face as she felt another pair of arms grip her tightly from behind. The tall man stepped forward, lowering his face just inches above hers, basking in the fear reflected on her pretty face as she took in his devilish grin and scarred lines. "I am certainly up for it sweetheart. You won't mind it being our place though, do you?" The cruel sound of his laughter had echoed in her ears long after she had been gagged and bound despite her every effort to kick and scream. Tears of shame and fury ran down her cheeks underneath the dark hood that was placed over her head. She felt the man carrying her move around fast, his hand coming down sharply on her bottom whenever she started to squirm. "Feisty little thing, I dare hope we will make our point unmistakably clear by taming this one!" "I could carry her for a while" a softer male voice strange to her ears volunteered. The familiar laughter of the tall man rang out into the cold night. "Oh, you will get your turn my friend, don't worry. In fact, once she has been tamed and presented you may as well keep her if you wish. It is high time you get a pet of your own." A pet? How do these ... these men dare insult a woman as such? Just what are they talking about? She moaned her frustration into the rough gag that had been stuffed into the mouth, earning another stinging blow on her backside. "I think she likes the idea," her captor's voice rang out again as he unceremoniously dumped her on what could only be the back of a horse and rode away with his newest trophy into the dark night. * Thank you for reading. Please take a moment to share your comments and vote. Your input helps me improve the story. :-) Slaves of Love Ch. 02 Author's Note: This is a love story with BDSM and some reluctance/non-consent elements that takes place in an imaginary world. Please enjoy! * Time had lost its meaning and so had the cold biting into the tender skin of her bound wrists. The fear that made her shudder soon faded into most welcome warmth that seemed to cloud her senses with a dreamy haze. The idea of having been kidnapped and thrown nonchalantly over the back of a horse like a sack of dirty potatoes dwindled to a ridiculous notion of fantasy as Selia slowly allowed her body to relax into the warmth underneath her. It didn't take long until her mind finally followed along; the potion and the gentle rocking that surrounded her body guiding the princess into the peaceful land of dreams. ~~o~~O~~o~~ Halem noticed the herbs finally fulfilling their duty as the young woman's body visibly relaxed against the back of the midnight stallion riding in front of his horse. They had been on the hunt for most of the afternoon. No wonder the moistened rag she was gagged with had already lost most of its effect! Despite common sense and caution his brother had insisted on trying their luck around the royal palace. Halem considered it unnecessary risk born of foolish pride but knew better than to argue with an experienced warrior. If only he hadn't stared! Reviewing the moment in his mind again and again as they rode along the northern trail in the peaceful darkness he still couldn't find an explanation. The dark hood of the cloak had hidden her face, even her petite form was completely covered by the well-worn garment. She was only a mere shadow that seemed to draw his gaze. It was but a moment, a mindless moment, however it didn't escape the well-trained eyes of the hunter standing beside him. Halem didn't like the predatory gleam flashing in the twilight nor the sly smile tugging at the scarred corner of his brother's mouth. Although he understood then and there that the girl's fate had been decided and every objection or hesitation was in vain, he couldn't help the guilt that slowly started to creep into his heart. She was just a young woman who happened to walk on her own, unaware of the hunt, unaware of their cause, an innocent prey. Compassion was anything but an alien feeling to him, one his brother would hardly be able to understand. The difference between the pain of a wound cut by the blade and those inflicted by the whip was unknown to any unbroken men. Gorren's scars marked him for the world to see, telling unspoken stories of glorious deeds, courage and a warrior's skill. But the memories of pain and scares men wore on the inside made only vulnerable and weak. Weak enough to pity a woman who would probably gladly swing the whip to hurt him if given the chance. ~~o~~O~~o~~ The young woman finally started to stir, the fine line of her carefully sculpted brows furrowing in obvious discontentment as more and more unwelcome noise penetrated her peaceful sleep. Halem watched her lashes flutter for a moment before she groaned, the glimpse of amber disappearing instantly behind her tightly shut eyes. Her pretty face rubbed persistently against his shoulder putting any kitten to shame. He couldn't help but smile, her reluctance to wake up enchanted him. Forgetting for a moment about everything around them he pinched the pert little nose scattered with strawberry freckles, delighting in the way she frowned and rubbed the tip of it against the arm of his shirt. Selia yawned, anything but ready to wake up yet. Someone ought to tell her maid that. "Cold hearted bitch!" The words thundered from close by, tearing her from the cozy dreamy haze. "We'll show the haughty wench where she belongs!" She blinked around with confusion written all over her face, the bright glaring light of hundreds of torches hurting her sleepy eyes enough to make her squint. Her attempt at orientation seemed to fail miserably. The crowed of men around her, cheering and cursing fiercely, all manners and respect forgotten, seemed as surreal as the dripstone statues echoing their voices. Selia shook her head violently to clear the nightmare of a cave full of furious, untamed beasts from her memory. Her breath caught in her throat when she opened her eyes again, her gaze wondering to a wooden stage located at the far end of the assembly hall craved into the mountain. A strong hand clamped down over her mouth as her lips parted for the inevitable scream when she spotted the naked young woman tied to a wooden pole. "So eager to take the wench's place already," a cruel flash of amusement flickered over the piercing blue eyes that seemed to penetrate her very core. The scarred man's laughter echoed again turning Selia's momentary shock and horror over the young woman's situation into instant fear for her own safety. The man leaned close, the scarred edge of his lips almost brushing against her right ear, his menacing voice whispering words that Halem couldn't make out despite standing right next to them. He watched the young woman's amber eyes go wide, her air of disbelief replaced by an ashen shade that made him wonder for a moment if she would get sick any instant. However, by the time his brother had finally pulled away with a satisfied grin the girl seemed to have composed herself somewhat, her expression hardening into a determined glare. "The lady will be quiet from now on." The scarred man stated matter of factly to his companion. "She may watch for a while if it pleases her, but then take her home. She will need all the rest she can get for tomorrow." Gorren winked at her before adding in a more serious tone. "I don't mind her skin getting broken should she cause any trouble." Halem nodded in mute understanding, even though the words surprised him somewhat. Gorren was well known for his harsh methods and strict hand, but never considered an unfair or exceptionally cruel mentor. After her captor had disappeared into the crowed, Selia turned her attention to his companion with an expressionless face. The empty depth of amber eyes looked into a pair of pale blue ones that bore an eerie resemblance to those of the scarred man, as did most of the younger man's face. She noticed the same tightly set, angular jaw and high cheek bones; however, the sight didn't make her shudder this time. There was something much softer, perhaps even gentler about the man's features, a tiny hint of kindness in his eyes that allowed her to breathe. Had he not resembled her captor so much, she might have considered the face framed by light brown, shoulder length hair even handsome. Her attention was drawn again to the far end of the enormous cave as the cheering around them erupted with new frenzy again. A man dressed in dark clothing entered the stage, his broad shoulders hiding the young woman secured to the pole from the audience's eyes for a moment as he stood facing her, his back turned to the cheering that slowly subsided. Selia felt her heartbeat quicken with anticipation as silence fell over the crowd and the tension stretched for long moments in the air. The man on the stage finally turned to his audience, scar lined blue eyes bearing into hers again from across the hall of stone. "Welcome Brethren! You, who have traveled from the far ends of the land for the gathering, you, who have harked to the call of freedom! Take our word with you when you leave in the morning. Take and spread it across the land until it reaches every tavern, every market and even the last mountain hut, spread the good news of redemption knocking at the door! For the day is drawing ever closer when we will rise from the yoke and claim our rights, returning our people to the ways of old!" The cheering that followed, the thundering cries, the fists hitting the air made Selia swallow hard. Taking another look around she soon noticed that none of the men seemed to be in the company of their Mistresses and even more so, none of them had been wearing a collar. Her observation along with the words of Scar Face added up to a suspicion that made her brows furrow in worry as much as annoyance. How dare that man, an uncollared man even, say such foolish things? The ways of old were but a legend, a faded memory at best of days long gone. A handful of tales of the failed ways of mankind that wide eyed children listened to in awe. Since the Age of Frost the order of the world was clear and simple. Survival and prosperity were the greatest values of all. Continuity of linage became an essential source of power, prosperous seed a rare treasure to possess. And possess they did, the mighty matrons of the past, some of them even dozens of men, to filter out the few of them who had the essence of life in their loins and not just the useless seed that could at best water plants. Centuries had passed and the population grew, a new order of power was established over the land that mankind again claimed as its own. Mighty houses had risen above the less prosperous ones, the hardships and deprivation of the Age of Frost fading from the chronicles' pages and also from the memory of the new generations. Tradition turned into the new source of power, as daily survival's needs were easily met by the stock and plants that flourished under the warm rays of the sun in plentitude. The matrons of the new age had succeeded at pulling back mankind from the brink of extinction where the way of old had driven it. As time passed the once rough leather collars marked by the symbols of their owners, a mean of restraint as much as sign of ownership, were replaced by the symbols of the mighty houses on finely crafted leather shining with jewels or silken and velvety ribbons decorated with the embroidered symbols of each household, even among the common folk. Collars around the neck of men that had been introduced by the ruling House of Astor many generations ago for practical reasons had grown into symbols of status. Mothers became eager to bind their sons with even more powerful families, to honor tradition as much as secure their own social status. With the comfort that the richness of the lands provided it took but a few generations for a fertile era to dawn. The seed of mankind found its strength again and while the social order that had proven effective over the centuries of hardship remained respected, bonding of women became less and less frequent as the population grew, finally reducing the ownership of multiple men to the privilege of the mighty and powerful members of the leading houses of the country. The average man fell in battles, sweat in the bright sun working the cornfields, refined his craftsmanship or art in order to provide for his Mistress' needs, pleasing her at night as much as during his days of hard work. In higher social classes the roles were the same, though the responsibilities changed somewhat. Women who could afford to have a number of men servicing their needs of course didn't let their favorite pleasure pets sweat in the hot sun or soil their hands. Their only priority became their Mistresses' satisfaction and pleasure, fine garments and a comfortable life were their reward. They were the type of men Selia despised and avoided like the blood-sucking plague they were, an idea carefully planted into her head by a father who could never accept being referred to as the late Empress' toy or pet. Selia's mind raced as she watched the young woman tremble under the lascivious eyes of the men around her. Her garments long torn, the obvious shame and humiliation had touched her cheeks with a vivid shade of red. The tears streaking down her face had dried long ago, only to be replaced by the reflexion of a dull mindset, an acceptance of her fate that made the princess' heart reach out for her even more. It had been years, she had barely come of age according to the law, when the Regent made her witness her first public punishment. The law was strict and practically unforgiving when it came to disobedience. Reluctance, denial, a sharp tongue or lacking enthusiasm were all considered minor crimes any Mistress was free to deal with according to her own judgment. However, when it came to men attacking a woman, threatening her life or the rare occasion of actual violence, punishments were always public and merciless, performed by the insulted Mistress or her heiress. The few transgressors who survived were driven out of the land into the wilderness, branded with the sign of the dishonored for all to see, to become despised and cursed outcasts until the day of their death. Despite the years that had passed, Selia remembered the punishment clearly. It was not performed at the court but in the country estate of the insulted Lady Marat, head matron of the House of Vessalia, a longtime ally to the royal family. Watching Scar Face on the stage stroke the frightened girls face tenderly while the familiar sound of a dear whip caught through the air in her memories was enough to make her tremble. The brightly lit cave reminded her at the heat of the sun at noon that had roasted the pale skin of the naked man tied spread eagled to the poles in the burning sand. A light breeze covered his bleeding wounds and aged scars with grains of sand, sticking to the tiny droplets of sweat that ran down his neck and dribbled along the line of his collarbone where the tight hood was secured to blind him and take away most of his breath. She remembered his chest rising at falling rapidly at the sound of Lady Marat's boots circling him like a vulture her prey, the leather of the bull whip she had chosen caressing is burning skin like a serpent ready to attack. His cries for mercy were mostly muffled by the hood, the pain on his face equally hidden; the thrashing limited strongly by his bonds, yet neither could prevent the nauseous feeling that rose deep inside the princess. She remembered asking her aunt about the man's crime. "Severe disobedience" that was the Regent's only reply. Arianna's expression was unreadable, fining an ignorant air she sat there with her head held high, a distinct contrast to Lady Marat who shouted out with every blow, her eyes blazing with danger and fury that matched the gleam of her fiery red hair in the sun. The transgressor had fainted twice during his punishment, each time to be brought back to only more pain by the icy water splashed into his face that proved a soothing balm for a moment before the reality of the next biting blow hit him hard. Once his cries of protest had subsided, his body finally stopped to jerk, refusing to react anymore to the inflicted pain, the insulted lady finally seemed satisfied in her quest for justice, and completed the punishment by pressing the glowing iron cross onto the side of the man's neck, one of the few places where the skin was not broken yet. The memory of the punishment came back to Selia in a moment's time. Her body starting to shake as it had done sitting on the left of her aunt so many years ago. When the girl on the pole cried out she averted her eyes, refusing to witness the cruelty the scarred man had promised her in his icy whisper. She felt an arm sneak around her shoulder but didn't care anymore when she heard the crowd cheer as one man. Desperately trying to block out the memories as much as the present she got so caught up in her fierce panic that tears started to spill. Heavy sobs erupted and Halem lost it right there. His arms went around her in an instant, lifting up the confused young woman as if she weighed nothing, the man's strength certainly belying his lean stature. As the encouraging shouts and cheers of the crowd grew more and more distant and gradually became replaced by a soft humming that soothed her fears, Selia summoned her courage, stealing a glimpse of her surroundings again. The smile on the man's face was almost gentle, nothing like the cruel, superiorly smug grin of his friend. The young woman's vulnerability became his undoing. The horror reflected in her watery eyes, the burning pain of guilt he tried to sooth as desperately as he tried to calm her with the ancient tune. Their eyes met for a moment, the horror now fading Selia sensed sadness and pain on the man's face despite his smile. "He said ... he told me I .... I would be standing in her place next time." Where the words had come from she didn't know, neither where the trust she felt budding in her heart. Her wrists were still secured tightly, this man had assisted in kidnapping her, even promised to break her skin to his companion should she not behave and yet here she was, uttering her innermost fear, wanting to share it, hoping desperately that he would deny it, hoping for someone to make that paralyzing fear go away. The man's smile faded slowly, a thoughtful expression taking its place as he carried her down a few stone steps in the dark corridor, only illuminated by the torch around the corner they had already left. When his face became overshadowed by darkness the princess panicked. "I ... I cannot. You must understand I can't! Please let me go. I won't tell anyone, I promise. Just please ... please let me go!" She pleaded like an infant, desperate and frightened, birthright and title long forgotten in the shadow of fear. "You ... you are not like him! I know it, I have seen ..." Her pleading was cut short as he placed her on a pallet with outmost care. Dropping to his knees beside her he produced a slip of rag that he put around each ankle before securing the heavy iron cuffs around them. They would allow for little movement since the chain that tied them to the stone wall was but a few feet long. He pushed a little pot located at the far end of the cell near the foot of the pallet and filled the jug at the head of it with water from his gourd, all the time ignoring her desperate pleas. The night would be chilly deep in the heart of the mountain with nothing to protect her from the cold, thus he decided against disrobing her just yet. She would have a hard enough time coming her way in the morning; let her rest in peace at least for one more night. After checking the ankle cuffs one more time he released her aching wrists from their binds. The gentle fingers kneading her palm caught her quite by surprise, drawing an involuntary sigh of pleasure from her when she finally felt proper circulation returning to her numb fingertips. Halem's fingers lingered for a while, luxuriating in the silky feel of the skin of his captive. Those hands had never carried heavy buckets nor had they ever worked the fields. The smooth and soft touch felt like an irresistible contrast to his callused palm. "What is your name?" His voice matched the gentleness of his touch. Selia had trouble to focus for a moment before blurting out a single word: "Lia." "Lia." The man repeated in a whisper, as if tasting her name. His captive. His woman. His Lia. His and no one else's! The words had started to form as a mere longing in his mind yet soon triggered a much more possessive feeling he had not experienced in a long time. He wanted her. The realization shook him to his very core causing him to draw back his fingers as if her hand was made of glowing iron. As he looked back through the iron bars of the cell at the form of the young woman curled into a ball and weeping softly, he had to realize that it was already too late. The desire to hold her, to tell her that everything would be alright seemed overwhelming, his breath shaking with the memories of the past. What a fool would trust feelings that had already led him astray? What fool could forget even for a moment the dear price he and his family had paid? No more of that foolish notion that is called love, he decided, angered by the vulnerability the rush of emotions made him experience. Perhaps Gorren was right, perhaps vengeance was the only way to get rid of the pain. Slaves of Love Ch. 02 "Rest, woman. You will need your strength." He said in a voice hard enough to make her wince and wonder involuntarily about the abrupt change in his behavior. As if life wasn't already confusing enough! His captive. His woman. Not as a beloved to worship, but as a toy to enjoy, he decided finally, pushing all worries aside. He had paid long enough; it was finally time to play. * Thank you for the encouraging and insightful comments on chapter one. Please take a moment to vote and let me know what you think. Your thoughts and input are much appreciated. :-) Slaves of Love Ch. 03 Sleep didn't claim her for what seemed like a long time once her captor had left. Selia tossed and turned during most of the night but no matter how tight she tried to shut her eyes, the reality of the cold stone around her and the heavy weight of the iron cuffs burdening her ankles wouldn't disappear. She longed for the comfort and warmth of her chambers, anything remotely familiar that would make this horrible nightmare come to an end. "I love the ones who are wild and show temper. The spit fires who just can't get enough. Their defiance drives my blood boiling to feel the whip cut into their skin, listen to their obscene moans and desperate cries at the brink of their limits," he had said, "But you are not like them, are you my little deer? I can hear your heart pounding in fear. Just think about it, I will make you lick your own sweat off the deerskin and they will all see. Watch you closely twist and buck against the handle of the whip as it stretches your cunt and fucks you into oblivion ... and you will tell them, all these man, what a filthy little whore you are. Watch the wench closely for when the full moon rises you will stand in her place. Perhaps sooner, just give us a tiny hint how much you crave our discipline and it shall be yours instantly, My Lady." The words her scar-faced captor had whispered into her silky hair still gave Selia chills. She remembered the young woman tied to the wooden pole like a picture of a surreal dream. Impressions of terror, disbelief and panic haunted her thoughts that night as she wept herself silently to sleep. * * * Even in her dreams she was haunted by the cries of tortured women, scar-face's cruel laughter and the rustling of chains accompanied her into the early morn. She struggled against strong arms holding her in place, tearing her worn cloak and dress off her body, persistent touches exploring her every curve. Naturally, she woke in a tired state of mind, the impressions of her dreams mingling with the hushed voices that sounded close by. "At the full moon rise? Are you certain?" "The Wise had sent the word at night. That cold-hearted bitch had surely made the official announcement by now. Our time to rise is perhaps closer than we originally expected." "Less than a fortnight left then ... What about the chosen one? Have you heard any news who it shall be?" "Oh, Halem. If I saw a chance for change without there flowing blood I would not hesitate. But I am not willing to gamble all that we have built up on your foolish hopes for an unhappy pup at the court being chosen for that spoiled brat. I have no doubt the Regent will make sure that whomever the girl shall bond with will not cause any trouble to her interests. Do you think the Wise would have let us know if there was any hope for such in sight?" Selia squinted against the bright light that hurt her eyes only to see scar-face's triumphant smile greet her. "Talking of spoiled brats ..." She didn't realize what he was doing until the soft warmth surrounding her body suddenly turned into a chilly spell. The young woman shrieked with mortified panic when realizing that she had been completely naked underneath the blanket scar-face had just pulled off her so roughly. "I think our little deer is awake," he commented with a chuckle, his eyes wandering over the young woman's ripe curves from her delicate ankles, over the contour of her smooth calves and ample thighs, right up to the patch of curly brown triangle she so desperately tried to hide with one hand while tugging at the blanket with the other. Gorren chuckled and licked the edge of his scarred bottom lip, his eyes devouring the faint pink peaks of her jiggling breasts as much as her struggle. The girl may not have been a spit fire but she sure was a stubborn little handful! Putting most her weight against the man's strength who held onto her only covering with the ease of one hand Selia tugged with all her might one more time. It was the very moment Gorren had chosen to let go of the blanket. The young woman lost her balance and fell off the bed, landing with her curvy backside on the floor craved into the cold stone. Her thighs fell open for a moment, providing both man with a hearty glimpse of her most secret charms. "That's enough!" Halem spoke with an anger that raised his brother's eyebrows in surprise. He grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around the girl with a stubborn frown on his face, pushing her gently back onto the bed. "If that is your idea of training I may need to change my mind ..." "No! We have a deal. She is mine. You are not to touch her. I mean it Gorren!" Halem wondered for a moment just how funny his warning might sound to his brother but it was the truth. They had made the deal, first thing in the morning as he wouldn't let the warrior have a bite of his breakfast until he was willing to discuss their captive's future with him. "Indeed. We have a deal." Gorren repeated with careful measure, talking more to the girl huddled up on the bed with the frightened look of a deer on her pretty face than his brother. "And our deal is on as long as I see that you keep your end of the agreement. If she is not getting proper training to be presentable for the next gathering I will take over for you." He leaned close to her face, the scarred edge of his mouth still not quite touching her cheek though. "He doesn't have it in him to make you cry out it desperation the way I would do. Be patient, my little deer, perhaps a week, at most two and you will learn the caress of my whip." Selia couldn't reply, couldn't even breath with this horrible man standing so close by. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears and she clutched the edge of the worn blanked in her hands as if her life depended on it. "As for now, watching him fuck you will have to suffice." "Gorren!" "What's the matter? You haven't as much as touched her since the taking. Your captive, your pace, your training as we had agreed. All I would like to see is a proof that you provide what it takes to tame such a spoiled little thing. A good, hard fucking Halem. Or have you forgotten completely how it is done?" The tension was palpable in the air and watching Halem's face turn dark only made Selia hate scar-face just a little bit more. He not only demanded to witness her assault, he was also hurting his brother in a way she couldn't quite understand but non the less saw reflected in the sadness of the younger man's pale blue eyes. Halem still didn't move, like a tense statue he stood in the middle of the room, paralyzed by the memories of the past. Gorren growled impatiently and sat down at the side of the bed. "Perhaps it was cruel of me to ask, I can take over for you anytime, it takes but a word brother," leaning close he inhaled of Selia's scent, long and hard with a predatory smile appearing on his face. "Or should your mute consent suffice? By the smell of things, our little deer here can hardly contain her lust for me." "That's enough!" Halem's voice sounded calm and composed as he moved towards the bed with a steady stride. Right that moment Selia wanted to jump into his arms, praise his courage and shower him with gentle signs of her gratitude for saving her from that monster ready to pound on her any minute. "Get up Gorren." His brother complied and watched the scene unfold with close attention. Pushing his little brother beyond the limits he was comfortable with was one of the few challenges Gorren never quite felt up to. Saving his life, nursing him back to health and protecting him from actual harm was an easier task for the warrior than to mend the damage the years spent in slavery had caused on the inside. To his present knowledge, Halem had not as much as touched a woman since his release. Gorren knew of nightmares of the torture he had been put through still haunting his nights and even though they never spoke extensively of the years Halem had spent locked away in the fortress, he was a good enough judge of character to suspect that his little brother still held an unhealthy affection in his heart for the cruel mistress who had toyed with him almost until his grave. And now here was a girl, a mousy little thing barely worth a second glance, a frightened little deer entirely lacking the air of power and confidence that made man usually cringe in the presence of most matrons. A girl so nonthreatening that she stirred even his brother's interest who had been emerged in the world of the most perverted submissions for the most part of his youth. Gorren saw a chance in this attraction, a possibility to draw is brother out of the shell the years of humiliation had degraded him into. This frightened little deer even a man of his past could possibly rule, if given the right encouragement. Halem had made so much experience with varied qualities of pain, torture of body and mind, that the mere the thought of inflicting such upon another had become abhorrent to him. Gorren knew that he had started a risky game of measuring Halem's fear of hurting someone against the girl's fear of being hurt. He leaned in close and whispered for both of them to hear. "I want it hard and rough. Don't disappoint me." Selia shuddered in disgust and then in fear when she turned her face to Halem's dark features. Their eyes met and locked for a long moment, each of them pleading with the other in what they believed to be in their best interest. The kiss he placed on her cheek lingered for a long moment. Her mind flooded with confusion and the warm caress of his silky lips, it took some time until the words whispered against her blushing skin sank into her mind. "Fight me." Then her eyes widened in shock when he tore away the blanket from her. Halem was upon her in a moment, his hands roaming all over her body, his weight pressing her petite frame into the mattress with a persistence and strength she wouldn't have expected from his lean form. She kicked and hit him with a panic never known before, her cries for help and the sounds of the struggle echoing in the room. "No! Get off me, you brute! Let go!" "Now, now! Is that the way to talk to your lord and master, little deer?" Gorren's taunting chuckle hurt her even more than the fingers digging into the softness of her naked hips. She wanted him to stop, wished for this nightmare to come to and end but more than anything in the world she wanted scar-face to disappear. "I believe the Lady needs a lesson in good manners." he said in a challenging voice. "No! Let go! Halem, please let go! Don't do this, please!" Her chant of desperation remained unheard and her futile struggles drowned her off her strength and energies to fight him any longer. When she had started to cry and stopped to twist and turn under her captor she didn't know, shutting her eyes tightly she tried desperately to blend out the events around her. The next thing Selia knew was a gentle caress across her forehead, feathery light kisses showering her tear strained cheeks, warmth covering and rocking her body in a soothing rhythm. "I'm sorry, so very sorry. I'm so sorry, Lia." his endless chant of regret made her heart ache. She glanced around the room cautiously, only to find her most feverish wish granted. Scar-face was gone and she was left in the arms of the man who had tried to rape her but a few moments ago. "What ... what happened?" her voice sounded raspy after all the struggle and crying. Halem lifted her chin tenderly, his gaze so apologetic and sad that it made her heart reach out for his pain and forget about her own fear. "I am not sure. A messenger ... Gorren is gone and should be busy for a while. I won't let him bother you again." He rested his damp forehead against her silky locks, luxuriating in the feel of her tense body softening in his arms and holding him close. She felt so warm and inviting, despite all the pain they had caused her, tearing her from her life, kidnapping and threatening her in the most awful ways, there was still enough tenderness left in this woman to caress his hair and place a gentle kiss on his cheek, much like he had done before, wanting to reassure her, to distract her for a moment from the terror around. "Halem." She ran her fingers through his hair and hugged him close, the vulnerability of his tormented heart touching something deep within her. "I never meant to hurt you, Lia. You have to believe me that. I would never harm you." In her heart, despite every reason and the circumstances surrounding them, the princess new that this tormented man was telling the truth and vowed by the shadows of old that she would never allow anyone to hurt him again. * * * Arianna's face was calm and composed, her radiant beauty shown with the grace of a true ruler. On the inside she was screaming. Alive and enrage with a fury she hadn't felt in many years. Emotion was a sign of weakness and considering the highly delicate and dangerous situation she was trying to balance, not the kind of impression she wanted the matrons of the High Council to leave with after their meeting. "May I have a moment, if it pleases your Highness?" Even the invitation of the lady Marat, one of her oldest allies, sounded suspicious to the Regent's ear after the devastating news she had learned in the morning. Over the years she had acquired a sensibility for politics and conflicts of interest. She had learned to keep her friends at the court close and her enemies even closer. "It pleases me very much," her reply was gracious and polite, as always. "Please accompany me to my chambers, lady." Arianna watched intently as the lady's jade eyes lit up for a moment while reading the letter the princess had left behind. The expression was almost immediately gone and replaced by an empathic sigh. "Dear Arianna, what a misfortune. Worry not, I will see personally that our Princess is safe home again." "That is a very generous offer," the Regent acknowledged with an appreciative nod. "But ..." I can't have you slit her throat in the process, she added silently in her mind. "I trust Selia. As we both know, my dear friend, she is my blood and the only legitimate Queen both the High Council and the people would acknowledge and support. I don't fear for her safety." Marat smiled and nodded, taking another sip of her tea. "Of course, your Highness, as you wish. Though as your adviser I must point out, should something happen to the Princess during her absence from the court, the High Council and the people would both be very likely to put the blame on anyone who knowingly let her become subject to danger, after all, we are talking here not only about the well-being of your beloved niece and our future Queen, but also that of the country. Rumors were brought to my attention anew, rebellious ideas of the ways of old and of a growing need in the hearts of our people for a change in our traditions and order." The Regent's laughter carried a bitter undertone she didn't even wish to hide. She certainly didn't need to listen to her advisers if she wanted to hear about foolish notions of change and equality. She had her very own idealistic rebel left by her late sister to her to struggle and argue with for endless years to come. "Oh, dear lady, I beg you to stop or I may assume that you share your bed with Dagon at night." The repulsion on her adviser's face was priceless and the coughing attack her playful accusation triggered lasted for long minutes. "Your Highness, you must know I would never show such disrespect for the wishes of my late Queen. Contrary to some I remain a woman of tradition, even in my old days I still prefer my pets to serve my needs instead of thinking for me. The influence Dagon has over the Princess causes the Council much worry. Many were hopeful that you would encourage her to chose a man of our noble houses for the bonding who may counterbalance her father's foolish notions and get her mind off the ideas the old man had been so eager to plant in her young mind." Arianna had the feeling that this was only the slow introduction to the heart of the matter the lady Marat had come to approach her with. Her instincts didn't disappoint her this time either. "Of course, we all realize the importance of the bonding and value our future Queen's happiness above all. Some of the noble houses have voiced their doubts though about being able to support a royal line with such a strong male influence behind her. If the Queen for instance ever decided to make her father an official adviser, or a minister even, the consequences were unpredictable, to say the least. Our people require a strong hand to lead them, a clear example that leaves no room for the confusion of roles in our society, especially in uncertain times as these." Despite her best efforts, the Regent was starting to lose her patience. "And what, pray tell, would a loyal and trustworthy friend and adviser to the royal family suggest in such uncertain times?" "Well, since your Highness has asked me so directly ... even though the situation is more than delicate and may require some sacrifices, in the best interest of the royal linage and our people, I could think of a solution ... the right circumstances provided." * * * Dagon stepped through the door of the Regent's chambers with an uneasy feeling. The hushed whispers behind his back didn't remain unnoticed by him during the day. His breath caught in his throat when he saw her. Glorious dark tresses framing her face free of the jewels and the paint of the day, she sat at her dresser with a brush in hand, finishing the combing by herself after dismissing her maid. The resemblance she bore to his beloved Mistress had never been so striking to the man before. "Your Highness wished to see me," he bowed to her with respect, finally regaining some of his composure. "Dagon, thank you for coming so quickly. I had to face a matter of great importance today that left me with the burden of a dilemma. I was hoping for your insight and wisdom." "As your Highness wishes," he replied respectfully with another bow. By the time he finished reading Selia's letter worry was clearly evident on his face. "Your Highness, I wasn't aware. I would have never encouraged her to face such dangers outside of the safe heaven of the court." Arianna looked at him long and hard before her reserve softened. "I know you love your daughter and treasure her happiness above all. Nevertheless this is an excellent example of the dangers some of the foolish notions may result in that you keep planting into her young and perceptive mind. It is highly unlikely that any harm would come to her among her own people but as you have said there may be other dangers lurking outside of the court where my power may not be able to reach and protect her in time. But before we proceed any further, I want you to know that I have made arrangement and will do everything in my might to see her safely home again. You have my word." "Thank you, your Highness." "This, however, was only the spark to the dilemma I wished to discuss with you tonight. Have a seat." She patted the chair her maid had occupied minutes before and handed him the brush. Dagon nodded and obeyed, even though sitting in the Regent's presence was not something he was used to, neither the privilege to comb her silky hair. The closeness and intimacy of the moment brought back and endless flood of cherished memories and he had trouble focusing on Arianna's words. "After the meeting of the High Council today, the lady Marat payed me a visit. I am sure you know that the House of Vessalia had been a trusted ally to the royal family for many generations now. The fact that the noble vultures had chosen her to deliver the message they dare not yet share with me face to face caused me considerable worry."