Amongst the rest of the Sisterhood, the use of chains to secure their victims was considered something of a faux pas. Utterly artless, they said. A cheap and easy shortcut that lacked the aesthetic appeal of a good knot. The solution for the lazy witch too stupid to learn proper ropework or even the binding spells to do it for her, or so the sneering comments went. Yet there was something about them that appealed to Gwendoline; the solid nature of the metal, the way the manacles fitted so tightly about the victim’s wrists, the knowledge that there’d be no cutting your way free with a convenient sharp object or that your strength would prove useless. The previous sunrise, the paladin had stridden through the Nightpine Woods with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, utterly secure in the strength of his arms and the righteousness of his cause. Now he was a prisoner in the witch’s tower—nay, an object. A thing. A toy for her cruel amusements.
Such were the power of chains.
In the lowest, most stygian depths of the tower, she came to him, violet eyes staring at the paladin with hawklike intensity, observing how the flickering rushlights danced over his naked figure as he squirmed fitfully on the altar to the sound of rattling chains. He was a young man, some twenty-five winters by her reckoning, with warm and handsome features that often drew women’s eyes. He was also well-built besides, the long years spent in training with the Order of Lightbringers before he’d earned his spurs giving him an athletic, vigorous physique that Gwendoline rather appreciated. The strength of his sword arm did nothing to ensure his escape, thankfully, not with the heavy chains keeping him bound firmly onto the altar, each length connected to the manacles at his wrists, ankles and throat so that he lay spread-eagled and hopelessly vulnerable. That vulnerability was enhanced by the fact she’d left him with not so much as a stitch of clothing to preserve his dignity, every symbol of knighthood or sign of allegiance torn away from him in the process. His sword lay rusting at the bottom of a pool out in the forest, his shield cast into the nearest pit, his armour scattered to a half-dozen distant glades, and the tabard of the Order now used as a washcloth to mop up the leavings of the witch’s experiments. There was only him now, nude and helpless, his feeble protests swallowed up by the leather muzzle keeping him securely gagged, and soft blue eyes reflected terror and revulsion both as she stepped out into the light, the thin black robe she wore leaving little of her feminine glories to the imagination. Long pale fingers traced the contours of his muscled form, descending lower, and she delighted in the desperate, guttural noises the muzzle could not fully contain. “Are you enjoying my hospitality?” purred the sorceress.
“Mmmppggghh! Nnnnggghhhh, mmmppppgggghhh!” screamed the paladin, straining against the chains that held him. The witch’s robe slid away to reveal her terrible beauty, and his struggles intensified as pale thighs straddled him, unable to keep from betraying his own arousal. “MMMMPPGGGHHH!”
“Such foolishness, your Order expecting handsome men like you to remain chaste,” Gwendoline whispered, unwilling to disguise her lust any longer. Hips shifted, and she grinned as she felt him pulse and twitch beneath her. “But that is a problem we will attend to in time, my pet.”
“MMMPPPGGGHH!”
“Understand this, and understand it well. You are my pet. My object. My toy.” She leaned in close, breathing deep of his scent, feeling the frantic drumbeat of his heart… not to mention the obvious physical effect she was having on him. Oh, she sorely was tempted to claim her prize without any further preamble. Yet there was a method to such things. Far better to break his will first, to make him beg for the privilege of being used. Yes… “You exist to pleasure me, and the sooner you understand that, the better.”
An animal groan of want escaped past the leather muzzle as she lifted herself up, and she could have sworn that his hands reached out to embrace her before the chains halted their progress. Perhaps breaking this one in will be easier than I thought. “Enjoy those chains, my pet. For you’ll be wearing them for the rest of your life…”