The Last Flowers Ch. 01

"It'd have to be a much better design for me to put my girl in it more regularly. She has a lot of work to do and I don't want her slowed down," Sarielle's father said quietly.

"Zarek, you of all people..." he shook his head. "If your daughter were mine I'd never let her out of a belt. Sarielle's already sampled the libidinous temptations of sin. She's proven she's too weak to control her urges. It is only a matter of time before she seeks a dagger to sheath in her burrow. It's up to you to protect her virginity."

The patriarch put his hand on Zarek's shoulder. "If a dog draws blood from your sheep you must put him down, for he will develop a taste for it."

Sarielle pressed her forehead against the cool wood and shut her eyes. She didn't want to sleep with a guy. They were...there just wasn't anything that drove her to them. Sometimes she heard girls talk about who they thought was cute and she might mention she thought Caspian was good looking. But the thought of kissing him? —Disgusting. She didn't even want to hold his hand. She hated the thought of getting married. Sex had always repulsed her...until that day. It had never occurred to her that two women could do things to each other. Thinking about that didn't gross her out like sex with a man did.

"That's not..." she started, too ashamed to finish.

Kerensa gave her a pitying look. "I've kissed Caspian. Just to know what it was like."

Wanting to know what kissing was like was tame in comparison, but she appreciated Kerensa trying to cheer her up.

The topic had moved on again, so Sarielle sat down with her back against the wall. "I don't like boys."

"Still? I always thought that was because your mind was pure of those thoughts. But after..." Kerensa made a face.

"I'd rather marry a goat than any of the ones we know."

"So would I, but there are cute ones that sometimes come in bringing supplies." She had a guilty look. "I've kissed one of them too."

Sarielle sighed. "I just want to live in a cottage out of town by myself." Inside, the meeting sounded like it was wrapping up. "We better go."

They hurried to the edge of the roof and dropped to the ground, fading into the darkness, racing in different directions to beat their fathers home. Sarielle took her coat off as she neared her tiny house and hung it up as it was when she got inside. She sat at the table and picked up a needle and thread, trying to calm her breathing.

Her father came in a couple of minutes later, not acknowledging her until after he'd taken off his coat.

"Hello, Father. How was your meeting?"

"Fine."

She pretended she'd only just finished his shirt, folding it neatly and holding it out. "All fixed."

"Have you finished that lace?"

She groaned. The townspeople were primarily artisans who relied on the selling of crafts to make a living. Her mother used to make bobbin lace, but she wasn't around to teach Sarielle and it was tedious by herself.

"I'm no good at it."

"Then you need more lessons."

"Madame Bridget is a terrible teacher."

Ignoring her, he poured himself some mead and sat down by the fire with a book. Sarielle begrudgingly got out her pillow and bobbins to work on a boring doily. An hour later, she packed everything away and came to stand before him.

"I'm going to bed now. Can you unlock me?"

He glanced up from his book. "No, you're to keep it on as punishment for talking back."

Sarielle took a shallow breath. That wasn't the reason at all.

She stormed off into her room, a small alcove with no door and little more than a bed. Her mattress couldn't cushion her steel underwear and she struggled to find a position that was tolerable. How quickly her father would change his mind if he were the one who had to wear such a thing.

***

On Friday morning Sarielle woke early to help pack the goods for market. She could see her breath in the cold dawn air as she lifted the crates into the cart. Her father covered them with canvas and tied down the load. Sarielle shivered. Elhuvens didn't wear shoes and her knee-length dress did little to keep her legs warm. Escaping the chill, she went inside to pack some food for the journey. He came in, all dressed for the road, and smiled as she handed him the box.

"Go get your belt."

She did as he said, coming out with the thing already in place so he only had to turn the key in the padlock.

"See, now when I go you don't have to stay with someone else. I can leave you here by yourself." He patted her on the head. "I'll be back on Sunday. You know where to go if you need anything."

She stood in the doorway to watch him leave. "Farewell, Father."

He flicked the reins and the horse pulled the cart into the street. Sarielle closed the door and set about making herself breakfast. She was actually looking forward to having a little time by herself.

Once she'd eaten and fed the goats, there was milking to do and gardening. Her chores kept her busy all day. She made herself a simple tea and stole her father's seat by the fire. But its extra padding didn't help much and she sent herself to bed early.

In the morning she lay there, content with the knowledge that she didn't have to get up until she wanted. It was lovely, except for the belt. In the past she rarely gave her genitals any thought, but something rubbing against them all the time was hard to ignore. Most of the time it was just uncomfortable, but sometimes it made her tingle. And thinking about it tingling made it tingle more. It didn't help that she'd woken from a dream that included some naughty things.

Her finger reached down to touch the edge of the metal. It slid under the side where it had made the skin raw, then it travelled curiously over the surface of the belt, feeling the decorative star shape cut out over her mound. Below that was a straight slit, not even wide enough for her pinkie to fit through. She could feel the metal move against her when she pushed on it. It felt good to rub it back and forth. She knew it was bad to touch herself. That was what whores did. It had been easy not to before she knew how nice it felt. Ever since she'd felt Evadne's fingers in her passage, felt something building within her, she'd been wanting to find out what it was. Not anywhere near as much as now, with this cursed belt teasing her constantly.

"Forgive me, Gods."

She pushed down hard on the metal, making it brush her clit and labia. Hungry for more, she repeated the movement, finding it more and more delightful. Her hips bucked by themselves, trying to meet something that wasn't there. Gods, she just had to fuck something. Her hand worked faster, cupping her sex and forcing the metal against it. The building feeling returned, urging her faster, harder. Her breath caught in her throat as her body lost strength, floating away. Her hips continued to move, trying to milk the feeling. Once it passed she lay there feeling guilty and dirty. When she sat up clear goo leaked from the slit in her belt. More of it was smeared over her sheets. She carried them out to the tub to wash them, hoping her father wouldn't know what she'd done.