Ruinous Shackles

Spoiler Tags: MF, Straight Sex, Goddess, Explorer, Short Story, Magic, Fantasy

Hefting my pack onto my back, I cleaned up the remains of my breakfast and doused the small fire I'd used. Clutching at the amulet of my faith, I whispered a small prayer to my goddess, an appellation for guidance and fortune. An archeologist by trade, I'd been mapping out a series of temples left by the Ancients, noting their relative positioning. In doing so, I realized that there was a gap within the Silparthan Steppes. Taking my discovery to my patron and friend, I'd quickly secured funding for a solo expedition to put my theory to the test. What I'd found had outshone my wildest expectations. Here was a nearly pristine temple, preserved by the combination of high altitude, harsh environment, and limited fauna.

My excitement had outweighed my caution and I'd ventured forth into the temple. Three days, one observation filled notebook, various charcoal sketches, and the majority of my rations later, and I felt I was nearing the core of the temple. The silence of the stone hallways was only broken by the distant howling of the wind and a faint sound of some as yet unseen underground river.

"Regardless, this is my last chance to find something to define my legacy," I said to the empty hallway. I'd acquired the bad habit of speaking to myself, a product of long hours of solitude pouring over musty tomes or puzzling over the meaning this or that nicknack. Stomping my feet firmly onto the ground, I twisted the ring on my finger, activating the latent magic to produce a dim beam of light that did a fair job of illuminating the stone corridor. Holding my fist up chest high, I set off down the labyrinthine sprawl that led ever downward.

I made it ten steps.

The stone beneath my feet crumbled away, leaving me to whatever cruel fate gravity felt like dealing me. A clamor of noise accompanied the fall, the heavy blocks smashing against the ground and each other. At the end of it all, I found myself unscathed but for a smattering of bumps and scrapes.

"Blessings upon me by the God of Luck, for surely has he shone his light on me today." My voice echoed loudly in the cavern within which I found myself. The entrance created by the collapsed floor had filled in with rubble, leaving me separated from the path I'd taken into the ruins. The light from my ring was heavily obscured by the dust, significantly reducing my visibility. My heart beat heavily within my chest as I tried to remain calm despite the burgeoning realization that the odds spoke to the likelihood that I would die in this place.

Logic is your friend. Logic is your friend. Logic is- What the hell is that?

In my exploration, I found a gigantic chain of shimmery red metal that the Ancients favored for their weaponry. Following the taut length led me to a thick anchor on an otherwise plain wall.

What in the four hells is this place?

Heading the other direction, downward along the slope of the chain, led to something much more... interesting than a featureless wall.

The chain was attached to a shackle that encircled the pale blue-skinned wrist of a kneeling woman. I blinked with surprise. She was as motionless as carved marble, her limbs spread wide. My light darted up to illuminate her face.

The first thing that caught my attention was the curved silver plate that covered her mouth and gagged her, extending back behind her head. A head which was covered in gossamer white locks so pure they seemed to capture the motes from my ring and emit them in a rainbow glow. Her figure was well-muscled, like those of a fieldworker, and indicated a life filled with heavy physical labor. Kneeling, her sex was obscured but her firm round breasts allowed me to make certain assumptions. The proportions were slightly different than an average humans, larger and more solid in some manner.

Wider shoulders? Or perhaps it is the length of her legs? It's hard to tell with their positioning.

Whatever it was, my instincts were telling me that whatever this statue was showing, it wasn't exactly human. Unnerved and excited in equal measures by the thought, I eagerly resumed my dissection of the undeniably tremendous work of art. Continuing to her backside, she had the normal number of toes, partially obscured by sweeping curls of her hair. The color of her skin was another indicator that she wasn't human, a delicate blue hue to it. It also looked impossibly soft, considering the tautness of her prominent muscles. My fingers itched to touch it, but some unknown force prevented me. Perhaps it was appreciation for the artist, or maybe it was respect for the statue itself, which I couldn't help but increasingly think of as a woman that demanded respect.

In my analysis, I'd done a slow circle around her figure, taking in every aspect of her appearance.

"Exquisite," I whispered with wonder. My voice surprisingly loud in the chamber. I brought my light back up to her face and I began to notice a small detail that'd so far eluded my attention.

Is that...?

I crept closer, watching her eyes. With glacial slowness, almost beyond that of human perception, her brilliant blue irises moved. Rotating along the same path I'd traveled, they continued until they met my eyes and stopped.

Looking directly at me.

I stumbled back, shocked and a little unnerved by what I saw there. Breathing heavily, the scientist in me began to ask questions:

Why was she imprisoned?
How is she still alive?

What is she?

Has she been here this entire time?

What could she teach me?

The man in me readjusted my pants, suddenly uncomfortable with an unusual tightness that'd come from examining the lovely female form combined with weeks of lacking companionship of any kind.

Shaking off my arousal and thoughts of the woman's predicament, I focused on my own. A discovery of this magnitude wouldn't do me any good if I died finding it. Pointing my ring back towards the wall, I ran it up and down in a careful search for a way out of this prison.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Whatever... Whoever you are, someone went to a great deal of trouble hiding your existence." I sank down onto a piece of rubble. My hand scratched at the fuzz on my chin looking over her from a safe distance. In my exploring, I'd discovered the source of the sound of water as well as the cause of my unfortunate fall. Sometime over the centuries of the temple's abandonment, an underground river had cut through the stone of the floor, eroding the foundations. It trickled down the wall and over one of the anchors that was connected to the metal chain that held her arms out wide. Exquisite craftsmanship met the timeless patience of nature and lost. Half the stone material of the anchor was gone, worn away by time particle by particle.

Thus, I was left with a conundrum.

"What am I to do? You were obviously placed here for some reason by a society I respect and have studied for the majority of my life. What that reason is...? I have no idea. Normally, I wouldn't give a second thought about leaving you to those who have more knowledge about how to deal with you. But, faced with my own mortality, I find the thought of potential salvation of your release intriguing." I sighed and let my head fall back to look up at the darkness that concealed the ceiling. "You are potentially calamitous. Probably calamitous," I amended. "I've never seen a cage designed such as this. A veritable work of art." I ran my hand along the metal chain. She didn't move, didn't react in any way. If it wasn't for the now obvious motion of her irises, I would think her a statue, and her figure the work of a master craftsman. The decision was left to me and me alone. I knelt in front of her matching her pose but for my folding my hands in my lap. Closing my eyes, I prayed.

Centering myself, I reached into the universe for guidance.

And...

Against all odds...

It answered.

The pile of rubble rumbled as one of the lower, more unstable blocks shifted, revealing a still ancient magelight that'd been reactivated in the fall. It was dim, and barely functional. But the beam of light cut through the still dusty air, illuminating the water-worn chain anchor.

Not one to argue with fate, or impending oxygen deprivation, I let my determination set me into motion. Ripping a long strip of fabric off my pants, I wrapped my hands and grabbed the sturdiest piece of rubble I could comfortably manage. Holding it to my chest, I waddled over to the anchor. Hoisting the piece above my head, I almost fumbled it for a moment before catching myself. Then I slammed the chunk of stone down as hard as I could. There was no visible mark, no reaction. Sighing, I bent over to pick up the rock.

Lifting it up, I slammed it down again.

And again.

And again.

I slammed that rock onto the anchor until that crude hammer crumbled into dust. So I got a new one and continued slamming it down. I slammed that rock until my hands bled and my muscles screamed in terrible protest.

But still, I continued.

I had no other choice. My survival was on the line.

So I slammed.

And I smashed.

And I bled.

And I suffered.

I would continue until my body gave out or that anchor did. Determination, survival, and my growing hatred for that anchor were the only things keeping me upright. Over time, my slamming tools grew smaller and smaller as I grew weaker and weaker. My current stone barely filled up my hand as I leaned on the wall, propping myself up as I continued to hammer at the anchor. Blood dripped down the wall from various crimson handprints. Every survival instinct in my body whispered sinister things to get me to stop.

"It doesn't matter. You'll never break it. Better to just give up and save yourself the pain."

"A short break won't hurt. Just a quick nap."

My lungs bellowed, straining to draw the last motes of oxygen from the air. Each breath shallower and quicker than the last.

"Is that chest pain a heart attack? You should slow down if you don't want to die."

My brain clung to the truth with claws that grew more tenuous with every moment.

If I ever stop. I am going to die.

So

I

Continued

To

Slam

That

Stone.

Over and over. Sustained by the ponderous rhythm of lifting the rock and bringing it down in a primal beat the told the universe of my desperation to survive.

Then there was a strike that was different from the others. My arm and hand came down, and this time, instead of bouncing off and painfully vibrating my hand, it was the anchor that separated from the wall with an innocuous 'plink' of the chains clattering against one another when they fell to the floor. What came next happened in a span of time so short that my senses were unable to capture it. The chain flared under the strain of an onslaught of divine power that flooded the red metal. Unable to bear the load, the metal melted in a cascading failure that traced the path back to the woman's wrist. Flexing once, she reveled in the long-sought freedom of her limb. Wasting no time, she reached up and ripped the mouthpiece from her face, tossing it negligently into the dark corner of the room with a metallic clink. Setting her feet, she barked a word of power while wrenching with her still imprisoned arm. The Ancient's prison was no match for her implacable will, the anchor giving way taking a chunk of wall with it. The second chain met the same fate as the first, melting into fading slag on the floor.

Closing her eyes, she breathed in deep, the first taste of freedom in centuries. Opening them slowly, she focused in on me before lowering her body in a controlled kneeling motion, her hands spread out to read the traces of the still divinely thrumming sigil that was there as a safeguard against her release. A failsafe that would lead to her death in minutes if she took one step from the containment circle. She smirked and took strode from that circle into the web of magic, the last bar of her almost broken cage. The curse that assaulted her flesh was nearly impossible to stop.

But nearly impossible is not the same as impossible.

And the goddess had experienced many years in captivity to consider the problem.

I only heard a cacophony of noises that rang out in my ears as I stared blearily at the broken anchor that fell on the floor. Turning, I was met by blue irises not an inch away. Taking a step back, I would've stumbled to the floor if I wasn't caught by an impossibly strong forearm that both saved and captured me in one smooth motion. She stared at me, and I stared back, my eyes dipped to her pale lips amidst her strange blue skin.

I think she took it as a suggestion because she leaned forward.

"I don't think-"

Whatever I'd been about to say was lost under the impossible softness of her lips against mine. The experience reminded me of biting into a succulent peach, all feathery and full of sweetness. She consumed my senses without manhandling me, taking me on a journey away from the fear and pain that'd been my companions these last few hours. Adding to the confusion of my tired, addled brain, when she released me from the hold of her lips, my hands at her hips no longer hurt. I blinked at her in confusion.

"Healing is not exactly my domain but that doesn't mean I'm completely useless at it."

Staring her in the eyes, I was enthralled by their brilliance. "Who are you? What are you?" The questions slipped from my brain to my lips, any filter that could've stopped them worn thin by the tribulations of the day.

She clicked her tongue frustratedly. "Makes sense. There used to be a time that no one in the land didn't know my name on sight." She punctuated her words with another soul-stirring kiss. "But first, I need something from you."

"...What?" I asked, somewhat breathless as her tongues exploration of my mouth.

"I must insist on taking your hand in marriage."

It took me a moment to process. Her tone was even and honest despite the ridiculous content of what she said. "Excuse me? Did you just say... marriage?"

"Yes." She nodded once. Stepping back, she finally released my lower back. Her fingertips slipping across my skin with divine grace, finishing by covering my hands in her own.

"What?" I felt like a crazy person.

Maybe this is all an oxygen deprivation hallucination? Or something I'm only seeing because I cracked my head on a stone when the corridor collapsed and I didn't notice?

The stunning woman seemed unconcerned by my current wrestling match with sanity. Releasing one of my hands, she took a pure white length of cloth she produced from thin air and bound our wrists together, maneuvering my hand so I would take her forearm in my grasp while mirroring the grip with her own. Then she began to speak in a language I couldn't understand. The syllables blurred and slipped across one another in a playful musical dance, each one flowing from the next in what felt more like singing than speaking. It was beyond beautiful.

I was smitten.

Or would it be smote? Is this what the language of the Ancients sounds like?

Regardless, I couldn't take my eyes off her striking skin, tracing the curve of her chin down the swell of her neck. Down her shoulder to her-

What's that?

There was a black section on her upper arm. It was a creeping darkness that reminded me of a root system of a weed after it'd been dug from the dirt. Pulsing, it continued to spread even as the goddess, for she could be nothing less, continued speaking. Drifting towards the darkness, my fingers went to touch it. Slapping me away with her free hand, she shook her head, staving off further attempts with a stern stare. The cloth began to glow, illuminating the space around it with a calming glow. My blood-stained bandage slipped from around my hand, revealing flawless, undamaged skin. The mending had happened during one of the scorching kisses that had stolen my senses and obscured her actions.

Whatever else she's doing, she's also healing me. Maybe I have a shot of getting out of here after all.

What I didn't get was why she was doing what she was doing? Before I could continue down that train of thought, her speech reached a crescendo.

"Do' alloine sebatha de Girra!" Her eyes met mine and she whispered urgently. "Repeat after me: Sin sellogasta depothest toma carrar."

I had an instant where I thought about hesitating, but the gentle pleading in her eyes washed away my resistance. "Sin sellogastra depotest toma carrar?" I spoke haltingly.

Frowning she wobbled her head in thought. "Close enough. Keep going. Do' alloine sebath de- Then your name."

I narrowed my eyes. There was something building in the air, like an electrical charge before a thunderstorm.

In for a ruble in for a rubee.

"Do' alloine sebath de... Roman." The ground beneath us seemed to rumble, though it might have been my legs that grew weakness at fear.

Around us, twin streams of brilliant white flame poured up around is in a vortex, erupting from the ground in a silent stream. I could tell the flame was impossibly hot, my clothing disappearing as they burned free from my body, turning to ash that rode the streams upward jetstream. And yet, the magic tickled and teased my body like a dozen playful tongues. The goddess had her head tilted back, her long white hair bouncing around in the flames. A grateful, satisfied smile stretching her cheeks as she closed her eyes, her arms outstretched into helical streams of magic. Her palms cupped and tickled the magic. As quickly as it came, the torrent of fire was gone.

The two of us were left in a perfectly scorched circle on the ground. Blinking my eyes I looked around, taking a deep breath, astonished that I was still alive. The air tasted different, and I sniffed experimentally. The goddess took pity with an amused expression, giving me a hint with a finger pointed upward in front of her still naked chest. Looking up, I could see the scorched earth hadn't been constrained to the ground. Boring through unknown tons of rock, her ritual had opened a tunnel that led all the way to the sky, a tiny blue dot that existed a great distance above us.

And yet, I'm unharmed.

"Hey hubby."

I was considered an expert in my field. An up-and-comer in the study of the Ancients with a brilliant mind and a bright future. Thus it was quite disappointing that all I could manage to conjure was a dull, "...What just happened?"

She laughed, a short bark of amusement. "We'll get to that. But first, there's a matter of great importance to me." Her eyes burned with something I couldn't quite decipher but nonetheless made me extremely nervous. "Something I've missed sharply through these many years." She took a step forward. "I'm going to fuck you, Roman. And you're going to like it."

My mouth was suddenly quite dry at her rather juggernaut-ish approach.

That isn't to say I don't like such boldness in a woman it's just...

Seeing as how my clothes had gone the way of the kilatly bird and vanished from the planet, there wasn't much to hide my body's reaction to her appearance and her words.

Her hand was warm as it caressed my hardening manhood. "That's right," she cooed, stepping even closer to me until my skin practically vibrated with her presence. "Get hard for your wife. Consummation is a very important thing for my race," she teased.

"I don't even know what that issSSS!" My words dissolved into a shriek as I instinctively tried to take a step backward, my heel catching on a piece of rubble. Even as I fell to the ground, the goddess somehow managed to remain right next to me, effortlessly following my every move, easing my transition from upright to supine. Her breasts dangled tantalizingly from her position on her knees and hand above me, her other still firmly grasping my cock.