This is the draft of my first assignment. All comments welcome... This is much longer than anything I have written before, one side effect of being without internet access.
Helen listened to the heavy rumble of the anchor as it unrolled. It had been a long time since she’d last heard that sound, she and her crew were long since over due some shore leave, and vitally now, some fresh food. That was her officers’ priority, hers was different. Her crew, with their nerves silenced for a while, were shouting to one another as they secured the boat. She took another glance through the small panes of the window at the land they had come so far to find and then returned to the chart spread out on the table in the centre of her cabin. She had only been a few years old when she had first seen this chart and her father had entertained with her stories of lands far away. She could never hear enough of them. She would excitedly point to an island and then wait to be told of strange people and exotic food. Just occasionally her finger would point to the land at the very edge of the map, and she would turn to her father, beaming up at him, knowing how his voice would be about to change as he said ‘Ah my dear, there be dragons’.
She had grown up a lot since then and her father’s blood ran through her veins. When her mother died she easily persuaded her father that she should accompany him on his voyages. Her tender age, cheerful personality and eager willingness to learn and work soon made her a favourite of the crew who would vie with each other to entertain her and ensure she was well cared for. She had grown up wise in the ways of the sea and of running a ship, and when she turned 21 her father had no hesitation in giving her her own ship. The ‘Young Lady Captain’ was respected at ports around the known world. When her ship docked it was always the tidiest and the most ordered, and more significantly her crew were probably the healthiest and most motivated, disproving the old adage of never going to sea with a woman. Despite her achievements in a male world she maintained her femininity. She was strong but gentle and took as much care of appearance as did her contemporaries whose outdoor experience was limited to a perambulation around a neatly groomed park.
There were times on long still days when the sails scarcely caught the wind when she would dream of romance. Of a stunning man who was strong enough to take her and hold her secure. She dreamt of him caring for her, treasuring her for who she was, not what she had achieved. She even dreamt of being in his bed, and in her wilder dreams, the ones she had at night when she slipped a finger between her virgin lips she dreamt of being tied with ropes like the ones which lay curled above the roof of her cabin. It was not as if she had not had offers, but they were never ones to tempt her to either leave her ship or share it. Often they were from business men whose primary interest were the lucrative routes she had established. The other offers came from a different type of man, men who had seen her steady command and they wished for that command to be extended to them. Neither group interested her.
As she sat at the table in her spacious captain’s cabin looking at the chart she had a private moment of doubt. There was no record of anyone crossing this land which marked the end of the known world. There were many myths about it, mostly contradictory, the only thread which seemed to run unbroken through them all was talk of a castle. Some spoke of people being unable to approach the castle, kept away as though by a magic force, some spoke of hearing a terrible roaring from within, and others told of agonised screaming.
She selected a pen and some coloured inks and carefully added the tall imposing castle which she could now see through her window to her father’s old chart. It was a castle straight from the fairy tale her father had told her all those years ago, with small windows, towers, turrets and spires. She even had a chuckle to herself as she wondered if a Sleeping Beauty lay slumbering in a chamber in one of those towers. Oh well, if she found one, she would have to return to her ship for someone suitable to give the time honoured kiss, because she had determined that she was going to face the castle alone.
Her crew had argued and reasoned with her against this, but finally she simply pulled rank, and gave them permission to complain to her father when they next saw him. She had agreed that they would replenish the ship which whatever provisions they could find on the island and then wait for two moons before abandoning hope of her returning.
She sprinkled sand over the chart to blot the ink of the freshly drawn castle, shook it back into its pot and then lovingly rolled the chart once again and stowed it with the others. Taking a key from the bunch which she wore around her waist at all times she unlocked and opened the drawer under her bunk. Her fingers ran over the rich cream silk of the dress she had brought for this moment. Pushing it slightly to one side she pulled out a small box of soft sweet scented soap, so different from the more utilitarian one she normally used, and a small plain bottle with a glass stopper wedged down to seal the precious liquid inside.
A knock on her cabin door and a line of sailors entered carrying pitchers of precious desalinated fresh water. Normally, when she was at sea, she used salt water for washing, demonstrating by her actions how important it was to be frugal in the use of precious provisions, but today was different. She wished to look her best for whatever fate awaited her. Her small private tub filled, she thanked them politely and quickly stripped down and first washed her long straight sun bleached hair and then her body in the refreshing water; the steam lifting the scent of the soap as she inhaled and felt wonderful. Relaxing into the luxury she breathed deeply as her hands took the weight of her cupped breasts. Each one just filling her hand as she ran her thumb down over the soft soapy flesh until catching her hardening nipples between it and her index finger. She pushed down hard, first feeling the hardness of that bud and then as she pushed harder feeling a comforting pain as she squeezed and rolled. Then she released the two captives only to repeat the process, but this time massaging her breasts too as she closed her eyes, sighed and contentedly threw her head backward, and once again experimented with just how hard she could squeeze them.
Normally she would just let her hair dry in the sea wind, but today she wanted to look her best, so first, standing just out of sight of the long picturesque panelled windows of her cabin she stood allowing the water to trickle down off her body as she rubbed the excess water from her hair. Then kneeling on her bed, she bent over and hung her head over the side, brushing first one way and then the other the falling mass as the air dried body into it and her soft bristled brush polished the natural sheen. She loved having her hair brushed. It was best when someone else did it for her, but only once on board had one of the older sailors offered to do it. That had been the just before arriving at a major port where she had been wishing to make an impression. She had taken up the same position then, but with her modesty preserved by a towel wrapped around her. He had seemed to enjoy it too, as they chatted intimately of shared memories, and he had teased her with how he had not seen her quite as vulnerable since the time when her father had unceremoniously taken her across his knee. At that point the sailor had playfully used the back of the hairbrush to tap her elevated posterior. She sometimes mused on that interchange, not understanding her reaction, but fascinated by the interplay of powers.
When she was finally satisfied she sat up and threw her hair back, and gave it one final light brush to put it into place. It would be more comfortable to not to bother with a corset in such weather, but she had long ago determined never to let the rigours of a life at sea effect her standard of dress. Whilst she was unable to get the tiny waisted hour glass figure which was achievable when someone laced it for her, she did her best, reaching round and working her way down the laces tugging and then tying them off, resting and then going down them again and tying off the additional length. She then stepped into a long underskirt before finally pulling the soft ivory dress over her head. She tied the golden cord which crossed between her breasts behind her back, and looking down, adjusted the fabric so that an equal amount of each mound displayed. She then took the little glass bottle and eased the stopper from it. The light musky floral scent more reminiscent of an elegant dinner party than a captain’s cabin, she dabbed it on, replaced the stopper, took a deep breath, gave a lingering look at all which surrounded her, and walked out onto the deck.
Her chosen deputy was waiting for her and he helped her climb down the ladder into the waiting rowing boat. She deliberately did not look back for fear of weakening at the last the moment, but sat upright, looking straight ahead, her hands resting lightly in her lap. The water was almost motionless and a deep blue. A shadow passing beneath her boat showed it was rich in fish. Her captain’s eye surveyed the land. It seemed to be loosely wooded with a clear path going from the obvious landing place. The variety of birds and the sweetness of their call indicated that there was fresh water, and fresh water should also mean a fresh supply of fruit. She pointed all this out to the same old sailor who was now rowing her ashore as had once playfully taken her hair brush to her. He chuckled at his beautiful young captain pointing out such things to him, and almost silently whispered to himself something about her being in need of a good hiding.
The boat crunched over the pebbles and he leapt into the water carrying her shoes and pulled it as far as he could onto the shore. Lifting her skirts and gathering them up she climbed out into the clear warm water, swayed as she found her footing and then whispered to herself “Here be Dragons”. He knelt down to put her shoes on for her, they bid each other a formal farewell, and then with mixed emotions he took her into his arms and reminded her that she was her father’s daughter and wished her well.
The path was almost manicured. Wide enough for three people to pass easily, grass green enough and smooth enough to have come from a cricket pitch back home. This path certainly did not resemble the threatening and sometimes impossible approach of the myths. Only once did she look back at the beautiful schooner anchored in the bay behind her. Already there were other small boats in the water. They would be filled with men detailed to replenish the ship’s supplies. Her solitary mission was to discover the secret of this land. Diplomacy insisted that she first introduced herself to the occupants of the castle. She did wonder for a moment what she would do if the occupants were dragons, but decided to face that one when she came to it, although she thought it unlikely since all the stories she had heard of dragons had them living in dark underground caves, not fairy tale castles.
The closer she got to the castle the more it resembled a fairy tale, its proportions were airy and magical, yet there was a dark foreboding aura which hung around it. As she approached she was less sure that there would not be dragons, she was even less sure that she wanted to proceed. Behind her was her ship; her home and the crew; her family. They would think none the worse of her if she was to simply take the safer option and return to them, using this island merely as a market place for the ship’s stores. But if she returned now she would have nothing more to ink onto her chart. Her mission and dream would be unaccomplished, she had to proceed. Feeling her heart heavy she climbed the semi circular steps to the door which appeared to be the main entrance. As she lifted her hand to knock on the great heavy door it creaked open revealing a panelled baronial hall, complete with a huge fire blazing in the stone fireplace. Apart from the door she had just entered by there was one other door and a stone slab in the middle of the room. Otherwise the room was empty. Her footsteps echoed as she first walked over to the fire and then returned to inspect the slab. Engraved on the slab was a message. ‘Welcome brave traveller to the end of the world. You now have a choice, once you have decided there will be no turning back, so take time to think carefully. Turn back and leave through the door behind you, and may leave this land safely; go through the door ahead of you and will discover much.’
It was a challenge she did not wish to resist, her heart racing she walked over to the second door, her hand resting on the handle, and then she pushed. The heavy door moved easily on its well oiled hinges and she stepped into a large library. The walls were covered with massive leather bound tomes reaching from floor to ceiling. There were three large tables for reading at, one of which had what appeared to be a chart spread over it. Around the fire were two high backed, winged leather arm chair.
“Close the door and come in.”
The voice carried such authority that Helen did not think of doing anything other than obeying. The door closed with a solid thud, and then there was silence in which she suddenly realised what she had done. Her muscles tensing and her palms sweating she breathed deeply to control her rising panic. “Welcome, do come over here and sit by the fire so we can chat” said the disembodied voice. Her legs heavy, she compelled them to move, terrified. There was an eerie stillness which framed the sound of her footsteps on the wooden floor and the murmour of her skirt. Each step was agony and she dreaded what she was taking herself forwards to.
She did not know what she had been expecting, all sorts of fears had passed through her head, but the stunningly attractive man who stood to greet her had not been one of the possibilities she had considered. His powerful green eyes moved over her, inspecting his visitor. “Well you are a sight for sore eyes” he said, chuckling to himself. “Not many people come through that door, and those who do are usually hardened sailors, armed and determined to kill dragons. Whilst I can’t say you’re a surprise since I’ve been watching you for the last day or so, you are a most welcome change. Please do sit down.”
Her curiousity grew, she did not know what she had been expecting, but it certainly was not such a gentile everyday greeting. It was impossible to age the man who watched her, his rich green eyes held the wisdom of centuries, and his spirit a maturity which she had never felt before, but he did not look older than 40. He was wearing a simple long robe with a burgundy cloak wrapped around his shoulders. He repeated his invitation, indicating the chair the other side of the fire “please, do take a seat”.
“Well, let me start by apologising for the drama of the anteroom, but the message was right, and is all part of the magic which guards the end of the world. Had you opted not to come in here and return to your ship the door would have locked behind you as you left, and quite simply that would have been that. As it is, you have chosen the more interesting option, it will not be an easy one for you, but something tells me you have the strength to unlock what you seek. But more of that later, I am forgetting my duties.”
With that he waved his hand and she suddenly noticed a small table between the chairs with a couple of glass and a jug of what in other circumstances she would have guessed was homemade lemonade. “You must be thirsty, have a drink, and then please tell me about yourself. Not many people come this far these days, and it’s been ages since I have had the chance to listen to an adventure.”
As she drank the lemonade she felt refreshed in the way a swim in fresh water refreshes at the end of a long day, she sat back in the chair and smiled back at him, and started to recount her tale. Rather than feeling uncomfortable, she enjoyed the way his eyes would sometimes wander over her as she talked. They made her want to fidget, but only in a good way, and she felt more feminine than she had done in a long while. Yes, his look and attentive listening definitely gave her a warm glow, and one she liked. She found herself confiding more and more in him, telling him things she had not shared with anyone. Each time she started to falter she would take another sip of the refreshing drink and she was invigorated to continue. Finally her tale got to the point of her drawing the castle she now sat in and she rested back waiting for him to speak.
“Hmmmm, and you have not asked me how you travel beyond this point. And let me assure you it is possible, but that is perhaps best left for tomorrow. But it’s fast approaching dinner time, I hope you’ll join me”
He stepped up to her and with his eyes smiling; he offered his hand and led her through a door leading away from where she had entered the castle. The wide passage way was lined with pictures of strange plants and animals; she lingered over a few assuming that they would be what she would see when she continued her travels. A shiver of excitement flowed through her as she thought of the new chart she would one day draw and the fantastic illustrations. “Keep those thoughts; they will help you with what you must go through if you are to see them for yourself.” It was as though he was reading her thoughts, although surely it was just applied logic. But looking at his eyes as he watched and waited she was not so sure. Perhaps she should be careful what she should think. He chuckled.
Taking one last look at a particularly spectacular bird she hurried to catch him up. “There is strong magic protecting them. As long as there is a dragon here it will possible for a few to see them, but one day there will be no-one to guide and help travellers through the portal, so it will be good if you can record them.”
“So there really are dragons here?”
“Oh yes” he replied with the wry smile, “well one dragon, one rather lonely dragon truth to be told.”
Helen looked startled and felt a little nervous, not to say confused about the easy way he talked about the dragon. “What is he like? I mean, have you seen him?”
“Well, he looks much like dragons you will have seen on your charts, although very rarely does he breath fire, yes, he can, but it has the down side of setting things alight, so like all dragons he learnt early on how to control that; and his other powers. He is covered with burgundy coloured scales and has deep green eyes. In your eyes he is ancient, but is actually in the prime of his life; time when he would normally be mating for life, but it is hard to do so when you are alone.”
He held the door open to a richly decorated dining hall. The long polished table decorated jewel encrusted silver vases holding flowers akin to lilies which filled the air with a heady scent. A banquet had been laid and after months of careful rationing of all fresh food to a sailor’s eyes it appeared to have come straight from the Garden of Eden. “All from the other side of the portal, but your crew will be able to fill their stores with similar supplies. As you can see the animals from that side are different to those here, and are not for eating. Well, we can be formal, and sit at either end, or we can be both practical and friendly, and you can come and sit next to me.”
“Oh I want …”
His eyes cut her short. “You want?” he repeated with an emphasis on the want. She felt like a child again and stuttered “I would like to sit next to you, if I may.” she corrected. His face softened again and he pulled out a chair next to the head of the table “And I would like you to sit next to me too”, he nodded. She was filled with a sense of pleasure at having pleased him. It was a strange sensation being corrected; as captain and daughter of her ship’s owner she was not used to it, but something about the way he looked at her made her feel secure and cared for, and she liked it.
He stroked an imaginary hair from her face, “Umm, yes, it is very nice to have you here with me, very nice indeed. And I hope that I will be able to persuade you stay a little while once you have rested from unlocking the portal, it would be so nice to enjoy your companionship.” His hand lingered and his eyes rested on hers as he spoke. She struggled to find a reply, suddenly everything which came to mind seemed childish and silly and she really wished to impress. Eventually she spoke through the frozen time “how do I unlock the portal?”
“I will explain tomorrow, but first you must eat and then rest.” He broke his gaze to pour two glasses of wine and sipped his, nodding appreciatively. “I have lived here far longer than you might assume, yet I will never fail to be impressed. Do try some.” She lifted her glass to her lips and sipped, and then drank, blushing when she suddenly realised that she had just drank best part of a large glass as though it were water. He chuckled at her, once again as though reading her thoughts “I see you find the same.” He refreshed her glass and stood up “I think you had better have something to eat to go with that.”
He guided her through the buffet, doing his best to explain what the different items tasted like, but it really was a nearly impossible task, and in the end she just copied what he had. As they ate she became intoxicated with the range of fresh and powerful flavours, her senses seeming to heighten the longer she was in the castle. Her senses and her emotions; as her plate emptied her attentions became even more focused on her strange host. It was hard to say what was ‘wrong’ about him, other than he seemed slightly different. Not in a bad way, but there just seemed to be more of him than there is of other people, and he had a strength, a self-assurance and a stillness which felt almost ethereal. She listened to his descriptions of some of what she would see on the other side. Slowly she leaned closer to him, and when he covered her hand with his her emotions started to soar, the room fading and her eyes closed. She heard his voice reassuring her that everything would be all right and that he would be there looking after her.
Picture after picture formed in her mind as she listened, but fascinated as she was, her eyelids got increasingly heavy until in her dazed state it seemed the most natural of things to feel him to pick her up and carry her from of the dining room and along another corridor to a room which a had a large four poster bed in the middle of it. He placed her gently on the bed, pulled a cover over her and bent down to kiss forehead tenderly. Her first land bed after so many moons felt strange. She missed the creaking of the ropes, the footsteps and sailor’s talk, the wind or lack of wind. She normally lay in bed doing a quick mental check that all was well, but instead she listened to the only sound she could hear; his breathing as he sat on the edge of the bed holding her hand. As she slept she missed hearing the soft whooshing of a tail along the wooden floor followed by the dull thud of her door being closed.
She had no way of telling how long she had slept, but she awoke feeling more refreshed than she could ever remember.
“Well good morning Helen. I don’t think I need to ask if you slept well.”
Bleary eyed she felt confused as her brain rapidly strove to pull into place all the information from before she had slept. “Hmmm, good morning.” Seeing her dress draped over the foot of the bed she glanced down anxiously to check that she was suitably covered. “Oh, don’t worry, that is all I removed, was far too nice a dress to sleep in, and even though you were miles away, I can assure you that is all I did.” He smiled at her and as she looked at those deep eyes she could hear the reassuring tones he had used as she been falling asleep, the feel of his masculine hand around hers, and she wistfully thought that she did not think she would have minded if he had done more.
“Well, I am pleased you feel that way, not only for my own ego, but you have a tough day ahead of you.” Now he had her full attention, pulling the bedclothes around herself, she sat up in bed. “I had a feeling yesterday you could read my thoughts. Can you?”
“Well, I guess that was a bit of a give away, but you can’t blame me for trying to impress a lady as beautiful as you. And you need not worry, anytime you tell me to stop doing so I will. I may not be quite what I seem to be, but I am no cad.”
“Ummmm, well I suppose there is really no need for me to talk now, but if you excuse me for doing so, I will continue, it is after all my normal way of communicating, if that makes sense. So tell me, what is going to happen today?”
He sighed and then took a deep breath as though reluctant to tell her. Deliberately speaking in almost clinical terms he explained to her. “The portal to what you know as the end of the world, which is actually just another world is closed to your people by a magic which was created when the worlds divided. The intent had been for it to be impermeable, but there was a minor fault with the spell which means there is a portal which can be opened. This fault is known only to the dragons, or as the case is now, dragon, who guards it. If someone who appears to be of worthy character, and from everything I have seen of you, and from your dreams you are clearly such a person, they are given the opportunity to break it. Yes, I did read your dreams.” He smiled at this point, remembering one in particular, and thinking how he would like to make it come true for her. “But don’t worry; they were all beautiful, although some were a little unusual.”
She blushed wondering which ones she had had that night, but quickly moved on. “How do I break the spell to let me pass through?”
“The spell can only be broken by cries of pain.”
She looked shocked. She did not know what she had been expecting, but that was certainly not it.
He paused letting it sink in for a little while. “In a little while I will take you down to the castle dungeon and there I have a number of ways of ensuring you scream enough to open that and or any other portal. Once you have opened it you will be able to pass freely in both directions.”
“Is there no other way of opening it?” She could feel herself scared, although also oddly excited at the idea of him taking her down to his dungeon. She could not help but wonder what ways he had of making her hurt.
He shook his head “No.”
“This is no ordinary level of pain you are going to have to experience, I am sure you have witnessed onboard disciplinary whippings, and the cries of those poor victims. Those cries would not be enough to more than dent the portal. You have my word that although you will feel pain which is sometimes far beyond your imagination you will not suffer any long term damage.”
She might have replied, if she was not too busy feeling trapped by a strange tingling all over her body and a slowly building panic as to what was before her. She had seen hardened sailors shake at the idea of a naval beating and her mind blanked as she tried to picture something even worse.
“And there is no other way to open the portal?”
“No, and when you chose to come in and not return to your ship you committed yourself to going through with this. The best way is not to fight it, relax as much as is possible and just trust me to do what is needed.”
She looked at him, tears already forming in her eyes, frightened. Gratefully she accepted his embrace as he came over to her bed once again and held her tight. Rocking her gently he whispered reassuring words, repeating his promise to her and reminding her of the wonders she had already seen illustrated. She clung onto him, her head buried in his shoulder, slowly calming enough to prepare herself.
She breathed deeply in and then out again. “Okay then.”
“Good girl, you’ll be fine, and I can promise you that you will not regret your initial decision.” With that he gently and affectionately kissed her forehead, took her hand and helped her to feet, and helped her into a soft robe which was lying along the bed.
The fabric was teasingly sensuous, making her breath harder as she became even more aware of his proximity. She looked up into his deep eyes, smiled as she felt his hand gently squeeze hers in reassurance, and then she followed him. He led her from her sumptuous bedroom, along a passage she did not remember from the night before to a heavy wooden gothic door. It looked as if it should have creaked as he opened it, but it swung effortlessly revealing a wide torch lit staircase curving downwards. As she paused nervously she he reassured her once again “You will be fine, I will be looking after you all the time.”
At the bottom of the stairs was an iron bar gate through which she could see what she instinctively knew to be a dungeon. It was not damp, it was also lit by torches, and heavy with equipment the uses of which she tried not to think about. He opened the gate, held if for her, and let it swing shut when she had passed through. “Remove the robe please.” She looked shocked. “I need to hurt you and your clothes will be in the way, please remove your robe.”
Her eyes saw the neat coils of chains, two of which rose up to go around pulleys, the rack of whips and canes, a table with assorted tools, an easy chair, which she did not think she would be sitting in, and a number of benches of different heights and breaths. “Don’t worry, I won’t be using most of these on you today, different keepers of the portal each had their own preferences, for this task mine are very simple.”
Nervously she undid the sash around her robe and then pulled it off over head, the fabric trailing over her sensitive skin. The word today skimmed the surface of her awareness, but she was distracted and flattered by the way her host tried not to watch, but failed. She was even more flattered by the “Beautiful” which he whispered. He sat down in the chair she had noticed. “And now the rest”. He did not now move his eyes from her, clearly expecting her to obey, and clearly giving her no alternative. Nervously she stepped out from her underskirt, carefully folded it and placed it with the robe. He waited. “And your corset.” Reaching round she loosened the ties, and then unclipped it so that she was standing naked before him. The sweet scent of her perfumes in contrast to the harshness of her surroundings she fidgeted slightly as she waited for him. His eyes shamelessly moved over her. “Put that down with your other clothes and then go and stand under those pulleys.”
She could hear herself panting, scared of what was going to happen. She could hear echoes of sailors she whom had seen beaten, she could hear his words “This is no ordinary level of pain you are going to have to experience.”
“Must I? I mean is there no other way? Can’t you, I mean can’t you just open it for me?”
He shook his head. “No, there is no other way. Please do as I have asked.”
Her bare feet reluctantly padded across the cold flags to where the pulleys where waiting. Determinedly she breathed in deeply and stood tall, looking over to him and waiting. His green eyes seemed to almost glow in the muted light of the dungeon and she could feel the magic in the silence. She knew enough about rigging to work out how the pulleys would be used, and although she was dreading what was about to happen she also felt a tingle of excitement. She blushed, trying to push her thoughts out of her mind, knowing that he could read them.
“That tingling will help you.” She looked puzzled. “I saw in your dreams last night how you fantasized about being taking over someone’s lap. I could not work out who it was, but I could read the power of your excitement. This is going to hurt a lot more than a spanking, but you might find enjoyment in it all the same.”
She stuttered an acknowledgment that she had heard him, unwilling to admit to what he already knew. From the table he took four cuffs and then walked over to her, his breath hot as he stood close and gently fastened two around her wrists. She could have sworn he lingered as he slowly knelt to fasten the two around her ankles. Her skin glowing with warmth from where he she believed he had paused.
She watched, horrified but fascinated in a macabre way as he fastened chains to each of the cuffs.
“Part your legs”
She edged them open a little.
“No, wide apart.”
She clamped them shut, trying to protect herself. “No, please, not there.”
“Yes, everywhere. There is not going to be a bit of you which is not going to hurt, including those sensitive folds between your legs.”
Shaking, she started to sob in fear, but was pulled up sharp by a firm slap across her face. “Now open your legs wide before I have to make you.”
Still shaking she eased them slowly apart as he patiently watched. “Further.”
She obeyed. Feeling almost hypnotised by his calm insistence and control she stood perfectly still as he pulled the chains attached to her ankle cuffs tight and fastened them to huge rings to either side of her. The cool air she could feel between her lips told her how wide and exposed she was. Had she thought about it, it would also have told her how moist she was.
“And now your arms.” He attached the chains dangling from the pulleys to her wrist cuffs, and then went to a large wheel and started to turn it. As the chain clanked over the pulleys and then around the wheel as her arms were pulled up above her head. First so they were upright, then so they were stretched, and then finally so that there was continuous muscle tension flowing from the chains holding her ankles, up through her legs, along her spine and then finally up her arms. He turned the wheel another eighth turn and locked it.
She watched as he picked up a black cloth and returned to her. “You will need a blindfold now, there are some things I think it is better if you do not see.” Suddenly her world closed in on her. The soft fabric immediately focused her in, her awareness limited to what she could feel or hear. She could feel that tingling between her legs turning into an ache in the stillness of the dungeon; an ache which was becoming the centre of her being. She heard him chuckle softly and she felt herself blush, and to her frustration, longing for him to touch that ache, to tease it and soothe it. It was a feeling similar to ones she had felt alone in her cabin but so much more intense, so focused, so demanding. It felt good to be exposed and vulnerable to him, she wanted. Not quite sure what she wanted, and in the overwhelming tide of emotions she missed hearing herself say “please”.
She shuddered as suddenly something hard moved down her cheek, a sharp intake of breathe revealing her nervousness. The touch was so light that it was hardly there, but the intensity of it made her bite her lip as she could do nothing but wait to see where it lead. It went under her chin, down her exposed neck, down the curve of her left breast and then pushed in a little harder before flicking off her nipple.
“Hmmmm, so hard and sensitive.” She tensed and screamed as all of a sudden a pain seared through her nipple. It was continuous but eventually slowly fading. She was could not help but be fascinated in how the sharp pain was softening to an almost enjoyable ache. Her unthought out wish was almost immediately granted as her other nipple screamed out. This time she did hear the swish of a heavy tail along the floor, although in the cacophony of emotions it did not register. She was struggling, taking comfort from the sharpness of the pain subsiding and whilst courting its previous intensity.
“That is why I am going to attach these weights, each time they swing those clamps will bite into you again my dear.” Instantly the pain shot into them again and she could feel herself feeding on it. Hating it, but strengthened by it.
“Now, just one more thing before I start. This will help you, because although you are not aware of it now, it takes a lot of effort to hold your head up, so this will do it for you. “Chin up please”. Something hard and smooth pushed her chin further up, and then wrapped firmly around her neck. There were a couple of dead sounding metallic clunks and it was still. She experimented and found that she could move her head a few degrees to either side, and also tip it backwards an equal amount but that was all. Her last bit of available movement had been taken from her.
She did not remember his footsteps sounding like that, it was almost as though he had claws hitting the stones of the dungeon floor, but neither did she remember his breathing sound as heavy as it did.
Then there was a soft swishing noise and a stinging on the outside of left thigh and then another swish and another stinging on her right. She jolted and winced. It was not as intense as the pain in her nipples, more like a strong blanket of sensation around her. To her secret pleasure the pain in her nipples also increased as her body was swayed. She felt addicted. Each swish announced another small blanket of delicious contact with her flesh. She could feel her eyes moistening behind her blindfold, she could also feel her tenderest of parts moistening, and she loved it; her soul welcoming each impact. He was relentless. A clockwork action striking her body. She never knew where it would hit next; sometimes on a protected area like her arse; sometimes on a sensitive area like her inner thighs; sometimes hitting a previously untouched part of her; but now more often somewhere which was already alert to his attentions. Each time her nipples were clamped hard as the weights swung. She now knew the bite of the clamps, but each time they claimed her tender nipples she felt increasingly aware of her inability to stop what was happening. She was already glad of what was holding her head up, as it enabled her to travel into the incredible sensations he was giving her.
Then he stopped. It was horrible. Her world suddenly felt empty. She hated it, wanted him to start again; wanted him to hit her harder. She could feel herself splayed out and exposed in the echoing room. Without him touching her she felt more vulnerable and she strained to hear what he was doing. The swish was different when it came. More like a whistle cutting through the air, a cut into her and then an agonised scream. It was more like the pain in her nipples; hard and demanding, not caressing as before. And again, close to where the last impact had been. A double impact, she could not work out why, but each strike seemed to hurt twice. She heard herself screaming out again and then sobbing as there was a slight pause before the next whistling swish. It hurt but it also felt good. She hated it. Her screams testified to that, but she also loved it. This time he varied the timing of the strikes as well as their target. She dreaded each strike, but as the impact of each one died she waited in eager dread for the next one. She strained at her chains to try to escape the erratic cascade but to no avail, although had she been able to think, she would have realised that she would have distraught had she been able to break free. Her throat was not also tender from crying out and sobbing. There was a longer pause between strikes, and she felt the that hardness run down over her breast and suddenly her nipple was screaming with her, rapidly the other followed, before she had a chance to assimilate the pain there was another swish and a strike across those two tender points, rapidly followed by strike after strike on her soft breasts. Her body attempted to curl to protect itself but was unable to stop the shower of strikes which were raining down on her. She felt giddy and trapped. Her sobs were continuous, the strikes too frequent now to elicit screams. She felt crushed, her mental and physical resistance gone. Inside herself she stopped trying to escape the blows and slowly relaxed just letting herself hang as he did what he wanted. Behind her blindfold, with her head held in position, she felt serenely content.
The blows stopped, she could feel his warm breath comforting her, gently taking the place of the strikes. Then, once again, nothing. Not even sounds of his movement. She strained to hear as she was forced to wait. Then a slice through the air again and her clit was suddenly on fire, twice and then a third time, she yelled through everything she had felt so far. She was only distantly aware of a huge metallic thud followed by a creaking of a heavy, little used door.
As she cried into herself feeling small and frightened she missed the significance of change of pressure around her ankle cuffs and was almost past caring when her hands started to descend. As she was picked up her heart went out in gratitude to him, she wished she could see, but just felt safe. There was nothing she would not do for this man. She was laid down on her stomach on a soft mattress. Then she felt a soft cooling as he so gently smoothed something over her upper arms and then her back. Although she was lying on her painful, untreated front she started to relax again, feeling secure in the blanket of pain. Her sobs slowing to non existence as the sting was taken out of each wound in turn, she enjoyed his attention to her. She started to be aware of different sensations, this time ones which emanated from her, from deep inside her belly. Her spine rippled slightly, the flesh on her front reminded her of its condition, his gentle touch continued to intoxicate her and she moaned softly.
“You did well little one, you have opened the door, but now it is the time for me to care for you. This gel I am putting on will ensure that you heal quickly, although I suspect it will be a week or so before you are ready to go exploring again. You took a lot of punishment from my cane, and your muscles are not going to be thanking you for it.”
She listened, her clit still excruciatingly throbbing, not surprised to learn that is what had been hitting her.
“Now I am going to turn you over, I will be as gentle as I can.”
She tried to muffle a whimper, but failed. A caress along her cheek and she heard him whisper “you don’t need to hide your feelings from me” and then the soft gel touched her breasts. Her breathing slowed and deepened. She felt safe and cared for. She felt secure as she had as a child in her father’s arms, but now she had this demand too from deep inside her making her feel very unchildlike. Her body was pleading that it be touched in a very different way now. And the more he rubbed the soothing gel into her breasts, the more she wanted. She could not keep her spine still as he moved down over her belly, all the time tending to her needs.
“Open your legs again little one.”
“Hmmmm”, she moaned as she obeyed. Her moans continued as he rubbed the gel into her inner thighs and she parted them even more for him.
Her sharp intake of breath marked the touch of the cold gel on her swollen clit.
“Yes your dreams were true, you do like this” he said as he slid not only over her clit but along her swollen and soaken lips. She moved her hips against him. Using the tenderness in her upper back to augment the sensations he was creating. She pushed against him and he chuckled. “Well, well, perhaps you would like me to attend to that other ache too?”
Trancelike she whispered “yes please”. She was alone for a moment as he stopped touching her, and then she felt the mattress move and he was between her legs. Her wrists were taken again and held up above her head, and an impossibly beautiful caress started between her legs. She gulped and shuddered at the intensity. Crying this time with the beauty of what was happening. Then she felt a new pain as he pushed inside her. It was a good pain, an addictive pain, and one which caused her to roll her hips a little to explore further. Then she felt herself filled, her stretched muscles contracting around the welcome intruder.
“Please may I have the blindfold off?”
There was a pause, “you may, but I would not advise it”
She felt his grip on her arms loosen slightly and an anxiety in his voice she had not heard before. She moved under him, too fascinated and enthralled by the sensations within herself to pay much attention.
“Please.”
“You see, I am not quite what you think I am.” His voice held both sadness and pride as he added “I am a dragon.”
She stiffened underneath him, but his gentle movements soothed her again.
“I take on human form when I am talking to humans, it just makes matters simpler. It is simple magic, but like any it takes concentration. Flogging you, caning you and now this has robbed me of that ability to focus on the magic so I have resumed my natural form.”
“I would like to see you please.”
He sighed, let go of her hands and still keeping his weight off her abused body and removed her blindfold.
She looked up to see eyes she knew. They were the same strong green ones which had captured her in the library when she had first arrived. Now they were filled a mixture of passion and concern as they looked down at her. The face was different; it was more akin to a gentle lizard’s but the eyes held her. Her peripheral vision took in his scaled body and immense wings which he currently seemed to be supporting himself on, but her attention was held by the power she saw in him. “Please will you remove this thing around my neck now.” A clawed hand lifted up, pulled at two fasteners and it fell loose. Free, she was able to lift her head, move towards those eyes and rest her lips on the side of his face. She then closed her eyes again, lay back, smiled and rolled her hips.
