Bound by Love

"Hello, I'm here to see Dafydd Wynne," I told the receptionist

"And who are you?" The young man asked.

"His wife, Ceri Wynne," I said.

The man stared at me in surprise. He picked up a phone and pushed a button, looking me up and down as he waited.

"Yes?" A woman's voice filtered through the phone.

"There's a young lady here to see Dafydd. Says she's his wife."

"Send her up," the voice replied coolly.

"Madrona will see you," the secretary told me and pointed out the way.

I took a deep breath. I hadn't been prepared to meet Dafydd's mother. I wonder if she thought it odd that her son had eloped suddenly. I was finding it odd now, that Dafydd had said nothing about his mother, and certainly hadn't introduced us.

Hopeful that she might be able to answer some of my questions, and anxious that she might not like me, I went to meet my mother-in-law.

(Dafydd)

After checking the entire house for Ceri, I opened up the map app on my phone. We'd shared our locations with each other, and I hoped she hadn't turned off that feature. I was relieved when her name lit up and I clicked on it to find her current location. My relief fled and my chest constricted.

Ceri was at my mother's house.

Terrified at what I'd find, I jumped in my Huayara and employed all its superior capabilities of acceleration, deceleration, and maneuverability to illegally and recklessly made my way through the congested traffic of the city. The drive should have taken me forty-five minutes, but I got there in twenty, fear still clinging tightly to my heart.

I burst in the door and flew down the steps to my mother's extensive basement. I rushed past the cloaked door that led to her secret lab where she dealt in magic and burst instead into her other special room, the one where she enjoyed the spicier side of arousal, her sex dungeon.

My mother wasn't a soft dominatrix of the modern era, who worked on lovers with gentle leather flogs and fur-lined cuffs. No, she was a product of a different time. I stumbled back and fell into the wall behind me when I saw my beautiful Ceri in front of me, naked and tied to a freestanding wheel that slowly spun her in vertical circles, her head flopping listlessly as she turned. Blood wept from whip cuts that had been applied seemingly at random. But nothing my mother did was random.

The tender skin between breasts and belly button was sliced, the soft mound of flesh under her upper arm, the sole of a foot, my love's cheek, all the tender places where I'd dropped my kisses most lightly were marred by slashes. Ceri's rotation brought her head towards the floor and gravity pulled her head back into the wheel with a thud. Her eyes fluttered open at the new pain, and she saw me.

"Dafydd..." She said, her voice a dehydrated whisper.

"Ah, my son, you've finally come for your little wife, have you?" My mother said, her voice hard.

She pointed a finger at me and swept her hand across the room. Propelled by her power, I slid across the floor and into a small cage. The door flew shut behind me and locked. My power was no match for hers. I was truly trapped.

My mother gestured at Ceri and thundered, "I assume this is the reason you have been absent from me all week? You've been busy making a child with this wench?"

I gasped, "She's pregnant?"

My mother laughed, "Do you doubt my skill to see it? Yes, son, you've done your job too well. I wanted her married to a miserable monster of a man, and today I find she's snared the heart most precious to me instead! How dare you?"

My mother punctuated her ire with a flick of her wrist and another line of blood bloomed across one of Ceri's thighs. My wife gasped and cried out. I knew that my mother would time her attacks so that each sting was its own agony, not to be lost in any overwhelming pain that might cause adrenalin to dull the shock.

"Please, do not punish her for my transgression, mother," I begged, my hands clenched white on the bars of my cage.

"I punish her for her own sins. Your burden is to watch what your lust and treachery have made necessary."

"Not lust!" I cried out, "I love her!"

"...Love you!" Ceri replied, her voice ragged, but louder.

My mother slapped Ceri across the cheek reflexively as she stared at me in shock, "Love? What do you know of love, boy? Love is an illusion, a party trick."

"It is not! I feel love. And she loves me too." I argued.

"Were you really so stupid, boy? Did you take that love potion yourself?"

I glanced at Ceri guiltily, "Yes, mother, I did. But it was only a half dose, and the effects faded days ago. Yet, my feelings are unchanged. This is love, true love."

My mother looked down at me thoughtfully, her anger settled by the pain I'd shown. She was always that way, never satisfied until she could see the pain, or the arousal, whatever feeling she was trying to entice. But while I could fake arousal for her, I'd never been able to fake pain.

"If this love can be proved, then I will not stand in your way, son." My mother said with a predatory smile. A small flicker of hope bloomed in my chest.

(Ceri)

Despite the pain that had been inflicted on my body, I felt joyous. My husband still loved me. He had come for me, and he argued for our marriage. And, too, I was carrying his child if my mother-in-law was to be believed. I had no doubt that Dafydd and I would pass whatever test his mother set before us. I was confident in the strength of our love.

When I'd met Madrona at her company, she'd been pleasant and warm with me. Telling me that Dafydd would likely return home after dark, and that it was best to leave him be. She'd invited me to her house for lunch, and I'd accepted, excited to get to know my new mother-in-law. The last thing I remembered was eating a biscuit, and then I'd woken, naked and bound. I didn't know how long I'd hung, and spun, but it felt like forever.

"I will set three trials to test Ceri's love for you, my son," Madrona declared.

The wheel drifted to a stop and the restraints released. I fell to the floor roughly. My arms and legs felt like jelly. When I managed to look up, I found myself in a different room. I was alone in a square room that was entirely empty, and entirely white, and there was no door.

"Dafydd?" I called, but there was no answer.

Gathering my strength, I pushed myself to my feet. I felt a silly urge to cover my breasts and pussy now that I could. But what would be the point? I spun around in a circle, looking for something that might indicate a hidden door. I wished I knew how this magic worked. I wished I knew what was going on. Most of all, I wished I had never met my mother-in-law.

As I was contemplating these pointless thoughts, the room began to fill with objects. They popped in from nowhere and just hung in the air. A fancy watch appeared right in front of my face. I reached to touch it but found that there was nothing there. I passed my hand through the image with wonder.

Soon the room was so full of floating images that I could no longer see the walls, floor, or ceiling. And that's when I heard Madrona's voice, seeming to come from everywhere at once.

"Among these things is one item that is dear to my son, which he has chosen. Identify it. You have one chance"

I turned around and looked at the room again in dismay. There had to be hundreds of things here, and I had to find the one that belonged to Dafydd? How could I?

The urge to give up and concede defeat was strong, but I refused. Dafydd was counting on me. Whatever magic he had, it was clear that it paled in comparison to his mother's. And as much as I wanted to just marvel at the revelation that magic like this existed at all, I had work to do.

Carefully, I went through the room and examined each object. But I just didn't know. I looked at a stuffed bear for five minutes, considering it. Could this be treasured remnant from Dafydd's childhood? I knew almost nothing about him I realized with growing panic. We'd had only a week to share with each other!

I shook my head, casting out the fear that threatened to immobilize me. At least, I had to look at everything. Maybe there was something that would stand out. I couldn't know if I didn't try.

It was on my fourth circuit of the objects when I found it. Well, I had seen it four times now, but only this time did I realize what I was seeing. Smiling, I pointed at it.

"It's this one. This one belongs to my Dafydd." I said with confidence.

(Dafydd)

I sighed with relief as I saw Ceri examine the book of music that I had created. It was the piano music for Chopin's nocturnes, opened to Opus 9, number 2 - the one I'd played for her most often. I was sure she would remember it.

"I concede that you have some knowledge of my son, the first trial is passed," my mother said unhappily. "Now, prove your faith in him."

The illusion surrounding Ceri changed. Now she saw herself facing a gauntlet, a hectic whirl of spinning blades, swinging hammers, and a narrow beam to balance on.

"Dafydd, guide her and see if she heeds you," my mother told me quietly.

I saw her game at once. In order to successfully make to the end of the gauntlet, Ceri would have to walk through the illusions of danger, but also avoid the real obstacles in the room, and the two did not match. She would have to trust me completely, more than her own eyes.

"Ceri, my love, close your eyes and listen only to my instructions," I called out to her.

Obviously terrified by the vision before her, Ceri still hesitated only a moment before nodding and closing her eyes. I was grateful and proud of her determination. I knew she trusted me, her actions of early this morning aside. I'd had a while to think about that now and could only conclude that it was her sister who'd suggested that Ceri break her word. I promised myself that when this was over, I'd make Awen pay for what she'd done.

"Take two steps forward, then there will be a step up, about two inches," I instructed.

Ceri spread her arms wide in front of her, searching for unseen obstacles, but that put her in danger of thrusting a hand into a wall of nails. My mother had slid a plank of wood in front of Ceri's feet that would feel like the beam she'd seen in the illusion to her. To one side of the beam was the wall of nails, and on the other was a stockade.

"Put your arms at your sides," I said before Ceri had taken her first step.

Slowly, hesitantly, her arms lowered, and then she made two steps forward, reaching with her foot to feel for the promised step up. A moment later, she was on the beam.

"Walk straight forward. I will tell you when to stop."

I could see Ceri's arms twitch with the urge to lift them again, but she resisted. Slowly, and carefully, she inched forward on the beam. In the illusion, she was now raised over a deep pit of spikes.

"Stop," I said when she neared the first real obstacle, an iron bar that hung horizontally across her path, right at the level of her head. "Bend down, then walk forward."

Similarly, I led her past a series of other obstacles that had to be stepped over, crawled under, or even climbed. She was nearly at the end when a hanging strap that I hadn't seen brushed her face, and shocked at the unexpected touch, Ceri opened her eyes.

In the illusion, a blade swung down, and Ceri screamed and threw herself down on the beam, clinging to it desperately as the false blade swung harmlessly over her back.

(Ceri)

I stared down at the pit of spikes below me, my heart hammering with fear.

"Close your eyes!" Dafydd yelled at me.

I squeezed my eyes shut again and tried to forget what I'd seen, the sure death of the blade swinging towards me and the open maw of spiky death below. Fearful tears leaked from my eyes.

"Stand up."

The command confused me. If I stood up, I would be sliced in half. I trusted Dafydd, I did, but the evidence of my own eyes told me the directive was madness. Fear glued me to the beam.

"The blade is not swinging; you must stand up now!" Dafydd said, urgency in his voice.

That urgency compelled me to action, I stood up and tensed, half of me truly expecting to be sliced in two. When nothing happened, I relaxed.

"Walk forward five steps."

I walked, choosing to trust Dafydd over the evidence of my own eyes. I reminded myself that there was magic involved here.

"Now, turn to the left and step off the beam."

My legs trembled. I had seen the beam, it was straight all the way to the end, death on both sides. There was nothing to step off into but air.

I remembered how Dafydd's body had changed before my very eyes that morning. I remembered how Madrona had moved him with her gesture and locked him away. I had seen that magic. And while I didn't understand it, Dafydd did. I had to put my faith in him.

Quaking, I stepped off the beam, and stumbled as my foot met floor just four inches below.

"Open your eyes, my love, you made it."

I was on my knees looking right into Dafydd's small cage, in Madrona's torture room once more. I thrust myself forward and kissed him through the bars, my naked boobs smashing into the cold bars.

"Shh... It's alright now," Dafydd comforted me, his fingers brushing mine.

"How very touching," Madrona drawled. "It seems you do have faith. But there is one last test for you to pass, my dear. Come with me."

Madrona made a come-hither gesture to me. I glanced at Dafydd, and he nodded, so I rose and went with his mother. She led me out of the room and down the hall. Opening a door that had been invisible to me, she stepped into what looked like a kitchen, complete with its own herb garden and a neat shelf of recipe books.

"Put this on," Madrona threw a bundle of fabric at me.

I caught it automatically. It was a brown wool dress that itched uncomfortably when I slipped it on.

Not looking at me, Madrona spoke, "This test is simple. I will free my son, and you, in exchange for your beauty."

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.

"Your youth, your perfect skin, your shining long hair, your trim figure, I will take it all from you. That is the price of my blessing on your marriage."

"You can do that?" It seemed an impossible thing, for her to just take my body from me. What would I be left with?

"Yes. Simply cut off your hair, of your own will, and give it to me. I will do the rest," As she spoke, Madrona handed me a knife.

This was the easiest test, by far. My hair meant nothing to me, my beauty meant nothing to me. The only thing left in the world that I cared about was Dafydd, in whatever body he might wear. I only hoped he felt the same.

I gather up my long braid and held it tightly, then sawed at the base of it with the knife. It came away easier than I expected. My head felt light and unburdened as I handed my hair to my evil mother-in-law.

(Dafydd)

Worry gnawed at me as I watched my mother lead my wife away. I didn't think that she would hurt Ceri, not after committing to her idea of three tests. Still, my mother could be very creative in finding ways to punish people while keeping to her word.

A half an hour passed, and then the door opened and a woman I didn't recognize stepped in. There was something familiar about her, but it wasn't until she was nearly in front of my cage that I realized it was Ceri, now dressed in a shapeless brown dress.

She was my Ceri, with rough shorn hair, dull and greasy. My Ceri with skin blemished by pimples. My Ceri with her posture bent at an awkward angle and her shape further transformed by some small deposits of fat where before she'd had none. Ceri, my Ceri, made plain and ugly.

As she put the key in the lock to free me, I knew what my mother had done. My wife had traded her beauty for my freedom. My heart filled with more love than I'd thought it possible to feel. Ceri had sacrificed for me what my mother never would, never could think of doing. My Ceri's love for me what the purest emotion I'd ever known.

A loud cackle distracted me from my revery. Crawling out of my cage, I saw my mother standing in the doorway, looking more beautiful than I'd ever seen her.

"This test is for you, son. Will you choose beauty?" she gestured at her new body, "Or the beast?"

"I choose beauty!" I said savagely.

I saw my mother's mouth turn up in a triumphant smile, then fall open in shock as I gathered Ceri into my arms.

"Ceri will always be beautiful to me, mother. No matter what she looks like. Love isn't some skin-deep illusion! I was empty and Ceri filled me. I was alone, but I will never be again."

My mother's eyes flashed with anger and her hands curled into fists at her sides, "You still chose this harlot over me? You dare cast me aside?"

Fury unleashed my tongue, letting out thoughts that I'd always kept prudently to myself before, "Remember your promise, mother!" I admonished her. "Or have you become a duplicitous hypocrite in your old age?"

"I am neither old, nor a liar, son. How dare you say such things to me."

"Then step aside, I am taking my wife home."

The tension between us lay thick in the air. I scooped Ceri up into my arms and started walking towards the door. At the last instant, my mother stepped to the side with a snort of disgust.

As I passed, she placed one had on my crotch, "When this mortal wench dies, I might forgive you, if you beg."

I just shook my head and carried Ceri up the stairs, and out of the house. Even swollen with the uneven fat she now had; she was easy for me to carry. She put her arms around my neck and placed her head on my chest. The weight of her love, and the sacrifice she'd made for me, laid heavier on me than her body.

Outside, I set her gently in my car and drove slowly home. Now wasn't the time to be reckless, not with the woman I loved most sitting next to me. I reached over and touched her belly with wonder, remembering my mother's revelation that Ceri was pregnant.

"I love you," I said.

"I love you too," Ceri replied, catching my hand to squeeze it.

"No more secrets. From now on, I tell you everything," I promised.

"Tell me this, then. Do you truly still find me beautiful? In this ragged body?"

I looked at my wife, at her sparkling eyes and expressive mouth, at her hair that still bounced with gentle volume, at her face that glowed with affection, the normal pimples of a hormonal late teen decorating it now.

"You are the most beautiful woman in the world," I said honestly.

Ceri smiled, and it took my breath away.

"You know, you are very handsome, my love. But I fell in love with you when you were fat and short and bald. Do you think that, sometimes, I might see my first love again?"

I laughed and threw on the old glamour, "Of course. But it's only a vision. If you touch me, it's still my body underneath."

(Ceri)

I understood, now, why Dafydd hadn't wanted me to touch him before. The pieces of the mystery had been clicking together in my head gradually as this very long day had progressed. I still had tons of questions, of course, but they could wait.

I examined my new body again, trying to get used to all the recent changes. Since I was no longer skinny, and I wasn't going to be on camera anymore anyway, I decided that my salad days were over. My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten all day.

"Can we stop at Denny's?" I asked.

"Anything you want, love."

Twenty minutes later we were sitting in the same restaurant where we'd had our first date. Dafydd had dismissed his glamour at my request because I wanted to get used to his real body. No one here could recognize us as the same couple from a week ago.

I glanced at the menu, but I already knew was I wanted. I ordered a strawberry milkshake and pancakes with bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns. I had decided, as of a half-hour ago, that I was done with starving myself.