“Not that you’ve seen much of me in eight months,” Rorin joked, “but prepare to be barraged with small orders. I may be hanging up my swords, but now Lesha and I will be needing supplies for home life.” The joke was literally true: Against one wall of the workshop was a rack of Ring Gates, and it was through one of these the gnome’s head protruded. It was Theri’s primary means of communication and exchange for her adventuring clients, for whom it would be impractical to return to Naa Dorthore every time they obtained a large amount of gold, or the need for magical equipment.
Theri raised an eyebrow and smirked. “The mighty heroes need magical equipment to stay in a nice, big house, in civilization?”
Rorin chuckled. “Conveniences. It’s going to be an elf-sized house, so I’m going to want Boots of Levitation, for sure. Things that can cast Mending, Prestidigitation, and Alarm now that we’re not - whoops!”
Suddenly the gnome’s shoulders surged from the gate, its rim pinning his arms to his sides. On the other end, the ring had been pulled down around him, and a larger pair of arms engulfed his middle, trapping him far more completely against abs of which he could feel each individual muscle. He offered the artificer an awkward smile that asked that she excuse him as he carried on, twisting to reposition his arms as best he could. It felt like fighting against the arms of a statue. “Not around Balrick all the time! Might need something to summon monsters, too. Don’t know that she can go a day without a good fight!”
Theri watched in amusement. “Well, neither of you are going to be summoning demons, I imagine. May I recommend elementals?”
“Hold on. I’ll ask her what else she wants.”
He’d managed to twist his arms enough to get them behind him, and planted his thumbs into his assailant’s sides. The “statue” squirmed and released him. Hooking one thumb through the ring in front of him, the other against his back, he twisted and lifted the ring away, the brightly lit and quiet workshop replaced by dark woods, the chorus of a thousand crickets, and the most warming laugh.
Rorin followed up with another quick jab at Leshanna’s side, causing the laughter to start anew as the elf reflexively twisted away.
“Here.” He offered her the ring. “Theri is in. I asked her about Boots of Levitation. You want to say hi, any priority orders?”
“Ah, yes! Thanks.” Lesha took the ring and looped it around over her head, which vanished from sight.
Rorin leaned back against his backpack, and watched her as she paced slowly, making conversational gestures and occasionally stretching. He preferred seeing her face and hearing her voice, but even watching her was a treat. The power, the grace. Those arms had protected him from monsters bigger than a bull. Those hands had tenderly healed him with divine light when he’d been shot.
Looking at her now, he realized he’d never seen her so relaxed before. It had grown more and more on her over the past few days, and to see it to this degree looked almost alien on her. If anyone deserved it, it was her, a thousand times over. He wanted to give it to her, if he could.
She reached a hand down, palm out. With a smile, he stood and took it, and guided her as she sat down beside him. To his surprise, she laid her shoulders in his lap, body stretched out before him, the Ring Gate pressed against his stomach. Her arms encircled his waist.
He chuckled. It seemed she wanted to chat for a while. He folded his hands on her stomach, and stared up at the stars.
* * *
As the rope crossed her arms at a sixth point, Lesha “ahh”ed in realization.
Lesha loved being tied up. The idea of being helpless, for just a little while, at the hands of her husband-to-be excited her like nothing else, she’d told him. There was just a tiny problem: How to do it. In the course of their adventures together, he’s seen her webbed, shackled, grappled by giants, and magically held. None of it lasted long. If he wanted to make her fantasies come true, his only advantage was her cooperation. Well, that and the creativity and expertise in the use of a variety of tools that had been his own contribution to the party.
So far, they’d managed some play with bondage, and she enjoyed it well enough, but it always came with the disappointing reality that she could at any time break the ropes or shackles. This time, however, Rorin had figured it out. By spacing the ropes out along the entire length of her arms and legs, he could deny her leverage and let the ropes divide any force between themselves.
Spending so much time diligently working inch by inch along her body was also an experience he’d be happy to repeat night after night.
When he put on the finishing touch, four ropes running between her wrists and ankles, he took a step back, admiring the beautiful sight before him.
Lesha experimentally pulled against her bonds, which creaked in protest, and softly vocalized her pleasure at the resistance she found. “Ohh, Rori!” she cooed. “You may have done it!”
“Only one way to be sure!” Rorin replied with excitement, and picked up from their table of toys a paintbrush.
Her eyes went wide when she saw it, and she cringed to brace herself, grinning all the while.
“Oh, no! Ahhh!” she squawked at the first touch of the brush against her exposed soles. She began to wriggle and writhe uncontrollably within the limits the ropes gave her, feet trying to jump and dance away, but helpless to…
The first pop startled them both, and Rorin jumped back, heart skipping a beat. The ropes connecting her ankles to her wrists had burst.
He told himself shouldn’t have been so surprised. The soft, pleasant sigh that slipped through Lesha’s lips suggested he was more disappointed than she was. He’d really hoped it had been enough, this time, but it seemed she’d expected this.
Her calves were still tied to her thighs, though! He stepped close again, determined to make the most of it for the seconds the ropes had left.
* * *
A rustling from the bag under the Ring Gate notified Rorin that a delivery had been made. He sprang over in an instant, fishing inside it to retrieve his purchase.
Lesha walked up behind him, laughing. “What’s got you so excited?”
Grinning ear to ear, Rorin turned around and held up to her a pair of ring gates. “Now, we have a set with both ends in the house!”
Lesha took one, nodding appreciatively, and turned it in her hands examining it, nearly dropping it when her fingers slipped through to the one he was still holding. “That’s useful… I suppose? What do you have in mind for them?”
He took it to his desk with the “out” side faceup. They were clearly labelled, but Lesha’s fingers made it obvious. He also subtly grabbed some thread. “Put it over your head.”
Lesha’s face lit up at the instruction, and she did so, her face vanishing from above her shoulders, emerging around Rorin’s stomach level from his desk.
He bent down and gave her a quick kiss before tapping his boots’ heels together and floating off the floor. In a second, he tied one end of the thread around the ring (careful to push the thread in the “out” side so it wasn’t gated), then looped it under Lesha’s arm, across her chest, under her other arm, and was in the process of tying off the other end before she could get out the word “What-?” She instead laughed in delight, getting the picture.
“Your body may be powerful,” Rorin commented as he floated back to the floor, tapping his heels together again to turn his boots off, “but your head is as helpless as a newborn babe.” He scooped her up off his desk by the gate, and gave her a long, loving kiss.
“Mmmm... I love you,” she murmured as the kiss ended. “To be honest, I’d been hoping we could do something like this, but didn’t know how much they cost!”
Rorin chuckled nervously, turning his eyes away. “Less than my armor?” It wasn’t saying much, but it was still only the sixth-most expensive magic item they owned, after her armor, her shield, her spear, and his swords. “Oh, and as for breaking the thread, don’t worry:” he flashed a grin that denied any concern that he’d overspent. “It’s just the first pair! We’ll be able to separate you from your arms, too!”
Leshanna blinked a few times, stunned, then burst out laughing. “You really committed to this, didn’t you?”
“Whatever it takes to give you the night of your dreams!” he proclaimed. “...and the night after that, and the night after that…”
Her face turned bright red as she imagined it. She knelt down, and hugged him tightly from behind.
“Hmmm… It’d take a lot to stop me from being able to come for my head, though. I’m pretty sure I can navigate this house blind. Kick down doors, or ram them open.”
Rorin had something in mind for that, too, but no need to spoil it just yet. “True.” He looked away, considering. She’d just given him an idea. “But what if I took you outside?”
She gasped. “You wouldn’t!” The sparkle in her eyes betrayed her excitement.
“I’d have to put you in a bag, of course, and you wouldn’t be able to make a sound.” He set her head down and quickly retrieved a few strips of cloth they’d discovered worked well together as a gag.
She sat down in his stool, leaning back against his desk. Playing at protest, she opened her mouth to permit the gag. Her face only grew brighter red as he retrieved a backpack, giving her another kiss on her lower lip before slipping her inside. “Not a sound, now! No giggling or groaning at my jokes. You wouldn’t want to make the neighbors suspicious, would you?”
Looking just a bit worried, she replied “Unhh-huh.”
He exchanged another hug, and a kiss beside her neck on the way out.
* * *
When the second pair of Ring Gates arrived, Rorin didn’t tell Lesha, at first. He waited for the right moment to surprise her with them.
Later that day, he found her kneeling in their shrine to Pelor. For a moment, he stood against the doorframe, rings held against his back. Her head was bowed, arms relaxed. Though her back was to him, he knew her eyes were closed. It would be the easiest thing to slip the rings on her.
He set them down, and stepped softly in to kneel beside her on the mat. He wasn’t much for gods, though he found time for praying more often of late. It was important to her.
Her devotion to Pelor had always been the most important thing in her life, and probably always would be. More important than he was, himself, he was pretty sure. One didn’t become a conduit for divine power by committing halfway. Understanding this meant understanding her, and he very much wanted to.
He felt her hand wrap around his, and he glanced up to see her smiling.
He bowed his head and closed his eyes. He didn’t know any of the ritualized prayers, but if he understood prayer in general… Deep in his heart, he thanked Pelor. What Leshanna was, she owed to him. At least that’s the way she saw it. Rorin loved everything she was, so trusting her, he had to thank him for that.
* * *
Rorin found his opportunity when Leshanna took a bath. Holding back a chuckle, he slipped silently up behind her.
She let out a delighted gasp as her arms vanished through the portals. Clearly she’d heard him - he was around 50/50 on being able to catch her completely off-guard - but was struck by the pleasant surprise of the new Ring Gates all the same.
He followed this up with threads crossing above and below her chest, and again across her back, tying the rings together to keep them pinned to her sides. “There we go!” he remarked with a triumphant chuckle. “Not so easy to get out of this!”
Lesha managed to slip in a kiss while he tied her in. Once it was secure, she hooked her thumbs back through the rings, tugging on her odd harness experimentally. “Ooh… I don’t think I could get this off without breaking it. What would happen to me if I did?”
“Yyyyour arms would be shunted back to this side.” Teleportation magic was usually safer than it sounded. “It’d hurt, but they wouldn’t be amputated or anything.
“But don’t you worry! I thought of that, too. Wrap your hands up thickly enough, and you won’t be able to slip a finger underneath! Next time we do this, you’ll be well and truly… Well, not helpless, but…” He slid up close by her side and returned her kiss. “Well, I’m sure you get the picture.”
“So,” she murmured, giving her best attempt at an eye flutter, “How am I supposed to finish my bath?”
“Oh, of course, I thought of that, too,” he replied with a grin and, already nude, climbed into the tub with her.
“Mmmm… You know what would go great with this?” Lesha mused as Rorin began to scrub her thighs. “A leash.”
Rorin choked on his breath, and took a moment to cough it out, laughing. “Oh, boy! That’ll be an interesting thing to shop for. Maybe we should get a dog first?” He smirked, and nudged her bare stomach. “What do you suppose Theri would think if she knew she was making sex toys?”
“Oh, she knows,” Lesha replied with a smirk.
That had Rorin pause for a moment, staring at the wall as he mulled it over. Then, he shrugged. “I guess that simplifies things!” he laughed.
As he continued to scrub, the image grew in his mind, consuming his thoughts, of Lesha, nude and armless as she was now, walking through the halls of their house as he led her by a leash. Unable to remove it. So limited in what she could do without his permission. Delicately feeding her. Those appreciative little looks she gave, the way she was learning to act so meek and bashful… He heard a soft moan escape her lips. Yes, that too.
“As much as my pussy appreciates the attention, Rori, could you please get my stomach, too?”
He chuckled, flashing an apologetic smile, realizing he’d been scrubbing one spot for a couple of minutes. He slung and arm behind her neck for another long, deep kiss.
* * *
“The new Ring Gates are here!” Lesha announced with glee. She walked in spinning one around an otherwise vanished finger, which appeared comically to roll around the perimeter of the other. “There has got to be a simpler way to get me helpless,” she mock-sighed.
“Well, there is a way, I think. I just don’t know how much fun it would be.”
The woman’s eyebrows raised high, gazing at her fiancé, skeptical about what he’d said for several reasons, and very interested.
“Okay, might have been a mistake not bringing it up ‘til now.” Rorin hurried over to the chest where he kept most of his retired adventuring gear.
He paused for a moment, thinking about where he’d left the key, then he shrugged. He slipped a pinky into the lock, nudging the mechanism precisely in two places, then kicked the chest to apply the right amount of force, popping it open.
At four feet tall and two feet wide, the bag was just about the only thing inside, since most everything else was inside of that. His Bag of Holding.
As he hauled it out, Lesha continued to stare at him skeptically.
“Don’t worry, I’ve cleaned it thoroughly,” he promised.
“And how is a Bag of Holding supposed to render me helpless?”
With a wordless grin, he untied the mouth, and held it open toward her.
“I’ve… thought about suffocation a little bit,” she replied, “but I don’t think this is the way I want to try it.”
“Not all the way in,” he clarified. He’d leave the question about suffocation for later. “Just up to your neck.”
Still unsure, but also eager to find out where this was going, Lesha fed one foot into the bag. Then, reconsidering, she sat down to pull it up around her.
Rorin helped her climb in the rest of the way, then carefully closed the bag around her neck and tied it off again.
He pulled the bag upright, carrying her head along with it. The bag felt full, but not especially heavy. That is to say, it felt exactly the same as it always had.
“Okay, so, what now?”
“Try to get out.”
This was a tricky thing about Bags of Holding, and something that every master of their magical tools had to learn. Below the neck, Lesha was on another plane of existence, but the connection between the two, or rather the means of opening, closing, and otherwise manipulating it, were all on this side. Widening the opening from the other side was all but impossible. If the bag was closed completely, there was nothing someone inside the bag could do. Well, nothing aside from cutting it, which wouldn’t end well for them, either.
Lesha’s neck twisted, and her face tightened in concentration. About now, she was probably pushing against the insides of the bag, trying to move it around, or pull it in some way. That’s what he had to assume, because the outside of the bag remained perfectly still.
He dragged the bag with him as he moved to his writing desk. No doubt she enjoyed that: she’d certainly gotten a kick out of being carried around in his backpack like an object. The bag was an idea he hadn’t given much credit because it denied him access to most of her body, but maybe he’d sold it short!
Stuffing the bag under the desk, he sat down in his chair, pulled up close, and lifted her head to lay it in his lap. She gazed up at him, red-faced and starry-eyed in a way that moved him deeply in more ways than one. A stirring from his lap, right under her head, brought her to a flirtatious smirk.
He opted to play at the objectification game. Ignoring her as best he could, he distracted himself with ink and paper. Suffocation? He’d had plenty of experience tying people up for more practical purposes, and had put in a lot of study on how to tie people up for fun. He pondered how best to deny someone breath safely and carefully, putting his thoughts into pictures and words. It was far from a perfect distraction, especially with Lesha’s head squirming in his lap.
As her breath grew heavy and she began to sweat, he started seriously wondering what she was doing in that other plane. It was difficult to imagine the number of different ways one might try to push one’s way out of a bag that wouldn’t open. At a growl of frustration, he began to wonder if he’d gotten the wrong idea after all.
“I can’t even turn around.”
All at once, Rorin was relieved, and felt like his head might explode.
“Oh, Rori, you really have me helpless this time! Completely at your mercy.”
As if her words weren’t enough, she began rubbing the back of her head against him with more direct intent. Her face was as red as he was sure his own was. “You could do anything at all. I wouldn’t be able to stop you.”
* * *
It was time at last. Four rings in his hands, excitement twisting up his guts, he approached the gorgeous, powerful woman who awaited him in their bed.
She lay on her side, wearing nothing but cloth thickly wrapped around both hands, head propped to watch him, eyes inviting, asking him in with a desire he still wasn’t sure how he’d earned. Her other hand swept its way across her breast, down her perfectly sculpted stomach, to rest on her thigh. Presenting everything to him. Especially everything that was staying in the room.
That leg was the first thing to go. He climbed into bed with her. Her legs stretched on so long. With an easy swish, there was only one.
Lesha clutched the ring to her hip, wanting it, desperate for the helplessness it promised. Another swish, and it was as if her body ended at a shallow wedge around her pussy. He tied the rings into place like some kind of strange, mostly invisible, exposing underwear.
Biting her lower lip and softly intoning her pleasure and excitement, she rolled her hips, now all there seemed to her, below the waist.
Sliding his fingers up her waist, he trailed up more strings, feeling every inch of her sides. He slipped the other two rings around her arms. They tied now not only to each other, but the top pair to the bottom, for a full harness that would barely move no matter how she did. The strings, though small and frail-seeming, bound, embraced, and framed her body, tying her in and offering her no opportunity to break them.
He rose to kneel over her, straddling her truncated hips. For the first time, it was as if he was actually bigger than her. There she lay, completely helpless, body laying purely exposed before him. He could feel her heart beating almost as fast as his. Her eyes…
He could never fully account for what he saw in her eyes. Gazing up at him. Loving. Wanting. Pleading. Wanting everything to be taken from her. Wanting to be taken. To be taken by, of all people, him.
Why him? He refused to question it, now. It didn’t matter if he understood. It was what she wanted.
He sat down and lifted her up, drawing her into his lap. He began with a nipple…
* * *
Theristriel didn’t look up from her work, weaving giant spiders’ silk around silver wire in the beginnings of a particularly special suit of armor. She liked to focus on the peaceful and the useful. With work taking up the forefront in her mind, it was like the head of Balrick only half-existed. Balrick wasn’t especially peaceful, and as for his usefulness, she had to take his former companions at their word. It seemed he’d completed placing his order, leaving the question of why he was still (partially) here.
“Oh, and one more thing…” the human added slyly.
His head retreated through the ring, to be replaced a second later by his hand. Out of the corner of her eye, Theri thought she caught the tail end of the gestures for prestidigitation. The workshop filled with the smell of roses.
“How about you meet me at the base of Naa Dorthore’s airship tower tomorrow night, say, sunset?” he suggested upon his head’s return. “There are restaurants there I hear are heavenly, and we can watch the airships come and go.”
Though the proposal was a surprise, and not one she liked the sound of at all, she kept control of her expression. “A date? Thank you, but no. I don’t think it could ever work out between us.” She repeated his spell, returning the room to smelling as clean and fresh as a mountain stream.
Balrick’s smirk turned to shock, which quickly twisted to a sneer. “Should have figured a grey elf would be frigid,” he grumbled, then was gone.
Serene. Graceful, she chanted to herself inside her head. Her day would not be ruined so easily, though her thoughts turned to Rorin and Leshanna, not without a touch of envy. Rorin felt like something of a kindred spirit, and to have found compatibility in someone like Lesha had seemed so unlikely.
Something emerged from Balrick’s Ring Gate. Something floppy, with two other somethings in a sack.
For a second, Theri only stared. What possessed the man? What does he hope to accomplish? However, now she had a perfect idea.
Serenely, gracefully, she flowed from her chair to the ring gate, taking her project with her. As foolish as Balrick was to present his manhood to her like this, he was doubly foolish to leave it there more than a second.
She opened one of the clips holding the ring in place, then closed it around one end of the wire. Then, she quickly looped it around behind the intruding penis and scrotum. The sheet of webbing stretched across the ring, looking almost like an embroidery hoop.
The presented package pulled back, scrunching together in the confines of the wire, then was quickly relaxed again.
The artificer laughed lightly. If what she’d heard about testicles was correct, that hurt quite a lot. He had only himself to blame, though.
As she attached the wire to the ring, the captured manhood moved forward and back more carefully, then fingers emerged to probe against the sheet of web. He wouldn’t have any luck with that either, however. It was flexible, but stronger than steel.
She removed the ring from the rack, stepped out on her balcony, and placed it facedown in a hanging plant pot before returning to work, beginning on a different piece of the spiderweave armor. For a moment, she wondered if Balrick wore robes. He probably wouldn’t be able to hide the ring under anything less. A ring that size in his pants would surely raise some questions.
He could have his privates back when he asked nicely. He was a wizard. He could find a way.