Dearest Ch. 02

I was awakened by the sound of a door slamming shut and footsteps approaching. Though I could not see, I could tell that I was laid out flat on my back in a large bed atop the softest linens I had ever felt, with a small pillow underneath my head. Yet they provided no comfort, for my arms and legs were outstretched to the four corners and bound tightly, leaving me wide open. A dull ache troubled my jaw. I probed with my tongue and found that it was held open by something large, round and leathery. Down below I felt a fullness that made me wonder at first if I needed to relieve myself, but as my groggy mind continued to awaken, I realized the sense of fullness came not from my bladder but from a foreign object inserted where it did not belong. Anxiety and confusion swirled in my head, but the blindfold over my eyes prevented me from discerning anything else about my current situation.

Soon the footsteps stopped near the edge of the bed. Hands grasped at my extremities and I was untied one limb at a time, but my wrists were quickly tied back together. The blindfold was removed and after the initial shock to my eyes I saw a plain room illuminated by slivers of sunlight filtering in through a trio of high and narrow windows. Two women attended me, and by their attire I assumed them to be maids. I sat up and glanced at my surroundings. The lofty chamber was made of stone from top to bottom, such as what one would find in an ancient castle. Strange, for I knew of no castles anywhere the road where I had been abducted. Perhaps I had been transported over a much larger distance than I had originally thought. I began to fear that my guardian would never discover my location. I scanned the room quickly and furtively for possible weapons but found none. Neither woman seemed particularly concerned with me attempting to escape or attack them anyways. I presumed that a phalanx of guards stood within earshot on the other side of the chamber door, ready to assist if summoned.

After removing the ball that had gagged me, one maid went to arrange a pile of clothing on a low-lying settee across the room. The other, who appeared to be much younger, stood by a basin of water with a sponge in her hand. I understood I was to approach her and be bathed. But first I had questions that needed answering.

"Do you know who I am?" I asked, tentatively, rubbing my sore jowls with one hand.

The two maids glanced at each other, and the one with the clothes shook her head at the other almost imperceptibly. Neither answered me.

"Please," I beseeched them, gesturing with my tied hands, "you must know I am here against my will."

Still no response. The maid with the sponge beckoned to me again.

"I don't know how you expect me to obey if you won't talk to me! Listen: my guardian no doubt is searching for me right this moment. I am sure he will be more than generous with both of you, were you to help me escape this place."

The older maid dropped her armful of clothing on the settee, turned and approached me swiftly and deliberately, and spat in my face. She grabbed my tied wrists and forcibly dragged me over to the basin. I spat back.

Nonplussed, she drew back her right arm and smacked me across the cheek, then grabbed both my nipples and twisted them so cruelly I thought they would separate permanently from my chest. She released them, smacked me again and kneed me in the groin. I stumbled to my knees in pain, subdued for the time being, but she was not done with me yet. With one hand she grabbed my hair and jerked my head back, and with the other she fished out of an apron pocket a small flask from which she poured something foul and stinging directly into my throat. I was prevented from spitting it out when she quickly replaced the leather-covered ball gag, tying it securely at the back of my head. Bending to grab my nipples yet again she dragged me back to standing and smacked my bottom for good measure before returning to the settee. I stood trembling, barely suppressing the urge to retch from the nauseating liquid she had forced upon me.

The maid with the sponge had regarded this violent episode with great horror. She was clearly not used to seeing such treatment up close, but she did her best to hide her true feelings once she noticed me looking her way. With a decidedly gentler touch, she grabbed my wrists and guided me to stand in the basin. I caused no further trouble while she scrubbed gently over every inch of my skin, taking extra care where I had been abused earlier. I was grateful for this small kindness, and I attempted to smile my thanks at her from behind my gag despite my suffering.

When I had been scrubbed clean and dried, my nipples were teased outward and clamps were applied to keep them stretched indeterminately. As a additional injustice, the older maid placed her mouth on my golden bud, still painfully swollen from earlier ministrations by the mysterious gentleman who had assaulted me, and relentlessly teased it into attention over my incomprehensible objections, shooting me a wicked grin when she was done.

I was directed to stand in front of the large dressing mirror and spread my legs as wide as possible while I was dressed in a tightly cinched corset. The phallus-shaped intruder within me was removed and replaced by one much larger, secured in place by leather straps that were bound to rings embedded in the waistline of my corset. I noticed the back portion of the strap was actually two separate pieces that were tied off to adjacent rings. I shot a questioning glance at both women only to be met with silence.

As the phallus-rod was secured the leather strap dug sharply into the groove between my thighs, and I could see marks developing in the mirror. As I looked more closely I noticed the strap contained a thin slit, much like those on a man's belt but longer and narrower. I soon discovered its purpose. With a pair of silver tweezers, my lady in waiting reached through the slot, found my squashed, reddened bud and teased it through. Once it had emerged on the the other side, she gave it few firm tugs and with her other hand attached a small clamp that affixed it in place.

From within the folds of her apron she produced a thin brush and a small box with a metal clasp that she opened carefully. She licked the tip of brush to wet it, then dabbed it into the box. It emerged coated with a dusty white powder that she then applied to my captured bud. The sensitive organ grew warmer almost immediately, and in less than a minute it had swollen to more than twice its original size, acutely throbbing. Taking care not to touch my skin, she removed the clamp and my bud remained in place on the outside of the leather strap, grotesquely extended and trapped firmly by its new size.

On top of this intricate apparatus, I was attired in a plain but well-made gown of deep blue, after the fashion common in the province, save for one detail: my breasts were prominently on display. They rested on a small ledge built into the top of the corset into which I had been severely laced. Decorating each nipple was an sapphire teardrop set in silver, hanging from a small silver clamp affixed tightly enough to cause discomfort but not bruising.

My preparation was complete. I soon realized that with my aching bud in this new prominent position, even the slightest rustle of my skirts would reverberate through my body. Only with much difficulty could I walk, and my steps were slow and halting.

The older woman departed, satisfied that I would act out no further. I was led from my bedroom by the younger one into an antechamber, where a delicious breakfast was laid out for me on a large, ornate table. Here, natural light filtered in from a covered opening at the center of an intricate mosaic that decorated the vaulted stone ceiling. My lady in waiting pulled out a chair on the far side of the table and beckoned me to come and sit. I approached, slowly acclimating to the new sensations of walking, then stopped in my tracks as I saw the chair up close. Protruding from the flat wooden seat was a thinner, shorter version of the phallus-rod currently buckled between my legs. She motioned to me to lift my skirts again. I looked questioningly at her, wondering where on earth this one was supposed to go. Ah, Eos! It couldn't possibly be intended for...

It was.

I shook my head furiously and made my way back towards the bedroom, tears streaming down my face with shame and anger. She moved to block me but I pushed past her.

"Dearest!"

Shocked that someone had finally spoken to me, I turned and froze.

"Dearest, please," she whispered with a worried look. "Or I'll have to call in the guards."

She motioned to me to return to the breakfast table, and after a long moment's hesitation I acquiesced. As she held my skirts aloft, I reached down and parted the leather straps that crossed my backside and impaled myself slowly and painfully, weeping openly at my predicament. Doubly stuffed, I took my morning meal in stilted silence, reflecting only briefly upon the strangely familiar appellation she had used to address me.