A Use of Power

"How long?"

Maurelle understood my question and answered flatly.

"An hour so far, but we can take as long as we choose."

I suspected that this was not quite true; the guard would not leave his post indefinitely but then I realized that she had said it to try and unnerve our captive.

I could see how she might pass as a young man. Her hair was shorn and her face had angular features which when set firm, as they were now, gave her a brooding look. A little dark powder to suggest a beard would be all that it would take.

She wore only a white shift and her body, thus revealed, was lean and muscular. There was something about her that made me think she would be good with a bow perhaps suggested by her square shoulders and modest breasts.

"How does this work?"

I trusted that Maurelle, having arranged this particular form of restraint, had versed herself in its intricacies.

"The skill is to take it slowly. The body must be allowed to adjust to the stretching each time. The pain comes from the ligaments and not the muscles. A skilled man can keep a victim on the verge of dislocation for hours and I understand that it is particularly agonizing."

I did not look at the woman to see what effect Maurelle's well studied words had had upon her. Instead I moved to the head of the rack and toyed idly with the sturdy wheel which turned the drum.

"Another notch perhaps?"

The wheel moved smoothly but took more effort than I imagined. The ropes gave a satisfying creak and then the pall of the ratchet found its home securing the ground that I had gained.

The woman did not cry out but the strained muscles in her arms and legs stood out as her body fought against the irresistible pressure.

My original intention had been to interrogate her in her cell. I pride myself on knowing more about the ways of women than most, and I hoped to extract something from her, but this new turn of events engineered by Maurelle was beginning to excite me in a way that I would never have considered.

"She looks strong enough..."

Maurelle cast a sharp look at me as I took hold of the wheel once again. This time I had to brace myself as I gave it another fractional turn but I was rewarded by the anguished groan which escaped from between the woman's clenched teeth.

With the wheel once again locked in place I was sorely tempted to experiment with some of the implements that lay to hand but I feared to cause some permanent damage and something told me that she was still prepared to resist.

I decided that I would take a different approach, one that she would be least expecting.

As if reading my mind Maurelle handed me a short bladed knife and I carefully eased it under the neckline of the woman's shift.

The poor material, dampened by her sweat, yielded easily to the knife's keen edge as I ran it down to the hem. Two more deft cuts at the arms allowed it to be peeled from her body altogether.

She braced herself, no doubt fearing the worst that the chamber had to offer, but she expressed complete surprise as I gently ran the back of my finger over her nipple.

It was surprisingly dark, with almost no surround, and notwithstanding her predicament it came quickly to attention. I teased its twin to similar prominence and was amused at the shocked look on her face as I licked my finger and thumb.

I pinched at the pronounced teat with a pressure just short of pain and was pleased to feel an increased swelling.

She tried to twist her body to avoid the contact but only succeeded in adding to her own torment. She relaxed once more, to the extent that the ropes would allow, and reluctantly submitted to my ministrations.

Over the next few minutes I caressed her nipples by turns and her struggle to escape pain transmuted into an effort to deny the ever increasing arousal that she had begun to feel.

When I had her primed I began to run my hand over her exposed body. I could feel the coiled tension in her muscles which relaxed momentarily with my passing only to seize up tightly once more.

Now she tried to raise herself to meet my hand but I kept my touch as light as possible flitting across her arms and legs before returning to her torso whilst still teasing her nipples.

I could see from her eyes that she had no idea what to make of this. No doubt, before she set out, she had made her peace with God and girded herself for the possible consequences but the particular nature of this exquisite agony was beyond her imagination.

Only when she began to pant did I bring my hand lower. The covering on her sex was dark and silky but very sparse making me wonder if she attended to herself but I doubted it. She gasped as my fingertips grazed her mound and then I cupped it in my hand.

Her look told me two things. Firstly, she had had no experience with another woman and, secondly, she was fearful. I found it amusing that she had demonstrated extreme, if misguided, bravery in her thwarted attempt only to tremor at my touch.

"Would you like to tell me who sent you?"

In answer she closed her mouth tightly for which I was glad. Had she given me a name so soon I am sure it would have proved a lie and, besides, the game had just begun.

I smiled at her and gently increased the pressure on her sex and wondered if, perhaps, she was a virgin altogether. The temptation to find out was strong but I held myself in check. Over the next few minutes I kept up a gentle palpitation doing little more than allowing the weight of my hand to rock back and forth.

At one point she tested herself against the unyielding ropes and grimaced as the pain immediately reasserted itself. This played into my hands as it served to reinforce the efficacy of my soothing touch.

I looked to Maurelle and, with a nod of my head, I beckoned her towards the head of the frame. She knew what was required of her but she displayed an unaccustomed reticence causing me to issue a terse command.

"Another turn."

The girl looked at me in horror. She had been unwillingly lulled by my hand, and taken to a place where pain could be overcome, but now I was determined to make her even more dependent upon me.

Maurelle was stronger than I and the wheel turned more easily in her hands. I could almost feel the coiled tension in the forbidding framework as the rope groaned once more accompanied by a muted scream from the girl.

I could see that she had reached her limits and, if Maurelle was correct, her joints would be burning with the fires of hell but I was about to offer her succour. To begin with I soothed the rigidly strung muscles of her inner thighs but then I returned my hand to her sex.

This time I used my middle finger to seek out the taut juncture between the base of her sex and that darker place. I massaged gently using just the pad of my finger and I could feel her quickening pulse.

I was delicately poised, representing both a promise and a threat. For her, it was an abhorrent choice but my touch was now all that stood between her and a world of pain.

With calculated slowness I drew nearer to her sex and then traced a line along the length of her exposed lips. Her body tensed, causing immediate anguish, but this was counterpointed by the totally new sensation of my knowing caress.

Her sex was elongated and the matched wings were delightfully pink and russet fringed. As I made a second pass I could feel them swell beneath my touch and I knew that she was mine.

Candlelight played over her skin as I continued to take my time repeatedly stimulating her lips but no more than that. After some while her whole body glistened as she became ever warmer and, in spite of the pain it caused, she tried to raise her hips.

Now, with each traverse, I began to linger at the apex to her sex where her clitoris remained well hidden and her eyes widened in surprise at the power of this new stimulation.

She began to push against my hand with more determination as if the pain had been conquered or had, somehow, been turned inwards and allied to the relief I was granting.

I found this fascinating. In fulfilling my selfish desires I know that I am guilty of bestowing a measure of discomfort upon my supplicants but it is of no consequence to me. Here, however, was the suggestion that pain could be subsumed and perhaps even desired. I made note to investigate further.

A bead of sweat formed between her breasts and I used it to moisten my finger before returning my attention to her sex. I carried on as before but this time with just a little more pressure and I was rewarded as I felt an increasing oiliness beneath my touch.

By degrees, I probed more firmly until my finger was sliding deeply along her cleft and her face reflected her bewilderment as her body betrayed her in ways she would never have imagined.

Now, deftly, I turned my hand and she stopped breathing as I purposefully invaded her with my two fingers pressed together. She was no virgin but it was certain that she had no true concept of the act of lovemaking.

Notwithstanding my talents I found her surprisingly wet, so much so that the squelch of moisture was audible within the room. She looked quite mortified and so I began to gently thrust at her to increase her embarrassment.

Within moments her body gave all the signs of approaching release, possibly for the first time in her life, and I slowed my movements to a stop.

She looked at me with an unalloyed craving in her eyes. She now sought not just relief from pain but the fulfilment of an, elusive, fundamental urge.

When her breathing had settled I resumed where I had left off and proceeded to bring her to the brink once again only to cruelly deny her. By the time I had repeated the process four times she had the expression of one on the edge of madness.

Her eyes were wide and her body flexed as she traded pain for the possibility of an unfathomable outcome.

It was time for the final refinement. I parted her sex to reveal the succulent interior and, with a single finger, I began to tease her clitoris from its lair.

She began to pant as she incredulously realized that an even more intense experience was within my gift but there was a price. I brought my face close to hers and the touch of my finger was so light that we were joined by no more than the dew of her arousal.

She turned her eyes towards me and desperately whispered "please...".

I judged the moment and drew her to the very edge before easing away whilst, at the same time, I spoke at her ear.

"Who sent you?"

I could see the inner battle rage, and tears shone on her cheeks, but she knew that she was lost. As she whispered the name I triggered her release and watched as her stretched body tried to accommodate both the agony of restraint and waves of pleasure the like of which she had never known.

Chapter Five

That evening Maurelle and I talked long into the night trying to make sense of what we now knew. Why did De Guigane's youngest son want him dead? We could not fathom what he had to gain. Should he die the eldest son, Donald, would return from court to assume the title.

The next day I sought out the countess and asked her what she knew of the two brothers. She described Donald as a loyal, personable, man but of limited intellect. His brother, by contrast , was thought a schemer. He presented a cold demeanour to all who met him but he remained his father's favourite.

Maurelle, for her part, went out into the market. Many of the stallholders were recently returned from the annual fair at castle Fouché and she hoped to pick up some gossip.

What she learned only added to the intrigue. Rumour had it that woodsmen were being paid to work on the borderlands and the perceived wisdom was that the defences there were being strengthened.

Maurelle remained unconvinced. She obtained a map of the borderlands and showed me where castle Fouché stood dominating the narrow plain with hills forming a natural barrier to either side. We were ignorant militarily but neither of us could see where new defences might be usefully thrown up.

It was later that night, as I fought for sleep, that I was struck by an idea. I hastily summoned a slightly ill-tempered Maurelle from her bed and bade her to produce the map once again.

I asked myself what purpose might be served in employing woodsmen if Gilbert's intention was to harm the kingdom rather than protect it. Our whole defence was based on the idea that the south could be held until the armies of the north rallied.

I enjoyed a moment of superiority as Maurelle failed to see what had occurred to me and then I put a finger on the map pointing to the river. In the spring it was navigable from the border all the way to the capital.

"You think they are felling trees for boats?"

"Why not? They could be crudely built as they would be needed for but one journey."

"But the river turns and narrows. It passes less than a league from here."

"And my husband to be would no doubt be alert to it...but Donald?...in the confusion of an accession?"

"You think that Gilbert conspires with our enemies?"

"I only know a little of him but it makes sense. He's unlikely to inherit and his ambition is not served by a political marriage to the Fouché family."

The more we talked the more sense it seemed to make.but we had no way of proving any of it and certainly no way to convince anyone. We were no further forward in our thinking when, two days later, a general commotion ensued. My husband to be had returned unexpectedly in company of his son and daughter in law.

Maurelle surmised that Gilbert was anxious to ascertain the fate of his assassin but it gave me an unforeseen opportunity to judge him at first hand.

Gilbert and his wife made a striking couple and I was given some inkling of how handsome Alphonse must have been in his prime. His son was lean and well muscled with dark eyes dominating his attractive face.

I knew his wife, Isabel, to be a few years older but it did not appear so. She was well made and her green eyes sparkled with a youthful vitality. She was very aware of her own charms and dressed to enhance them.

At dinner Gilbert was polite but aloof and paid me no more attention than protocol demanded. Isabel, by contrast, was garrulous and presumably saw in me a kindred spirit.

I listened to her patiently but, all the while, I was watching Gilbert noting his self assurance and the way his father doted on him. I feared that there was no way that Alphonse could be turned against him.

Later that evening I conferred with Maurelle. I was minded to find an excuse to go north and try and find someone at court to hear what I had to say but she dashed my hopes. She concluded that whatever was schemed must be imminent. The failed assassination attempt attested that and she believed that Gilbert's presence in his father's home had a darker purpose. It was then than she outlined an audacious plan.

I listened in stunned silence. It was foolhardy at best and dangerous beyond measure but Maurelle spoke with a passion that made it seem possible.

I wanted pause to consider but she insisted that it had to be done now. Gilbert was still deeply immersed in conversation with his father and it gave me the excuse that I needed.

I had not felt afraid for such a long time that it took a moment to recognize the fear in myself as I went to Isabel's room. She was already attired for bed and looked surprised to see me but then smiled in welcome. I spoke quickly before I had a change of heart.

"Our men folk seemed determined to ignore us and I, for one, feel aggrieved. Would you pass the time with me? I have a new dress from the east and would value your opinion."

She looked momentarily confused but her obvious love of fine clothes, and a sense of mischief, won out. She touched me on the hand.

"Wait for me. I will call my maid."

I smiled at her.

"We have no need of maids for are we not like sisters?"

With that I took her by the hand and drew her out into the corridor. I feared that my boldness had frightened her as she set her eyes warily about her but I whispered reassurance.

"My apartments are just here..."

Our rooms were near opposite and she was palpably relieved as I ushered her inside.

I went to my wardrobes and sought out the silk dress that Maurelle had obtained from a ship's captain and gifted to me on my eighteenth birthday. With its whorls of exotic flowers and animals intricately woven it could not be worn at court but it afforded me a private pleasure beyond measure.

When Isabel's eyes fell upon it I could see that she too was enraptured.

"It is beautiful, but how is it worn?"

As if on a whim I held it out to her.

"I would see it on you."

She looked excited but at the same time uneasy.

"I have no underclothes..."

"No matter, I will turn my back."

I theatrically turned on my heel and smiled as I sensed her hesitate but then I heard the rustle of her embroidered night shift. A moment later she gave a delighted squeal and I turned to find her admiring herself.

"It's so soft...but so daring"

The silk flowed with the movements of her body delineating the beautiful curves of her breasts and hips as well as the swell of her derrière. She looked at me conspiratorially.

"To wear anything beneath it would be a sacrilege..."

"Alas, I can only wear it for my own delight...but wait, I have another you must try."

I handed her another gown and turned around once again. As she changed she giggled girlishly.

"I need your help with this."

In truth the fastening was simple but to one used to being dressed by a servant it might prove awkward. I moved to assist her closing the buttons at the front not without difficulty as she was more fully endowed than me.

The gown lifted up her milky breasts and as I completed my task I brushed my finger across the taut surface.

"Your skin is so beautifully smooth. You must let me have your secret."

Her initial shock passed quickly replaced by a glow of pride induced by my flattery.

"Now you must turn your back."

She turned away but found herself looking at the full length mirror I had brought with me from the North. It was a present from the King himself and I had never seen its like. It was a perfect reflecting surface as she could now attest.

I stripped naked, in seeming innocence, confident that she would take advantage of the offered view. Maintaining the pretence I slowly slipped into the silk gown she had just removed and made a play of smoothing it down over my body.

"You may look now..."

As she turned to face me I anxiously awaited her reaction. If she did not immediately make her excuses and leave then I knew there was a chance.

She looked unsure but my apparent flaunting of all the rules of social intercourse had her intrigued. Over the course of an hour she tried on several gowns including my trousseaux. With each change of clothing she became more at ease and undressed in front of me without thought.

For my part I kept an anxious eye on the tapestry on the wall and when, finally, I saw the faint glow of a candle behind it I could not suppress a gasp. Fortunately, Isabel thought I had reacted to her as she bent naked to retrieve her own discarded clothes. She smiled playfully touched her own derrière.

"My husband finds it fetching..."

If all had gone to plan her husband would be afforded a view that was far from fetching.

Maurelle had remained stationed in the corridor knowing that, at some point, Gilbert would demand to know what had become of his wife. Her daring plan was to lead him to my communicating chamber and then incapacitate him.

Her woman's body belied her strength but she was physically no match for Gilbert. She intended to render him insensible with the ring she had given me for protection as a young woman. Its face could be lifted to reveal a pin which was impregnated with the venom of a snake not native to our shores.