A Thrall Perfected

The three women stepped through the doorway twisted into being by magic, leaving the lovely little piece of land upon which the cabin sat, stepping from late afternoon to deep, starless darkness. They were farther away still, she realized, as Mara lowered her arm, pleased at her first successful use of Her gifts. It was colder and she resisted a shiver. It was nearly pitch black but she was unconcerned beyond simply noting it. Mara knew She was close and her sisters were closer, so there was nothing to fear. Mara followed Her will down a short path through the snow. She felt wind behind her and knew that Devin was swirling the snow behind them to cover their tracks.

They moved carefully but quickly, certain of where to place their feet in the dark because each one brought them closer to Her. The cave was not far from them and they entered an even deeper black. Where Mara could see a bit beyond an extended arm in a little more than darkened shadows, she could see nothing at all once they entered. Despite her unshakable faith, her heart began to beat faster, her instinctual mind waiting for a rock wall or a precipice to end her journey.

"Have no fear, sister," Imir told her, gently.

Devin added her own voice as a reassuring presence. "Breathe. Let go. Follow Her path."

I follow Her path. I follow Her path.

She found that that truth helped. It also helped that she knew that, if she wished, she could see the path through their eyes, but she decided that it was a greater offering of trust and faith for all that She had given Mara even to now, that she stay blind and let Her pull and Mara's faith in that be her only guide.

The path turned and wound left and right, but inevitably downward. There were many paths; dozens upon dozens that led in circles, dead ends, and blind passages made of rock, magic, and something not rock. If you didn't know exactly where you were going you were meant to find your way back out or die. The cold gave way to a comforting, not quite stifling warmth that came both from being deeper underground and from a source she could feel as magic. There was power here and it was Hers. That fact made Mara shiver again, but from awe.

"We know," Devin said.

They entered a cavern that was lit by a circle of lights overhead that didn't come from lanterns, but from something beyond what she'd ever known, bathing the room of polished stone in a subdued, warm yellow light. In the center of the room, there were raised steps to a pool of liquid black that cut the light moved back and forth in waves calm waves, the tiny crests of the liquid cutting the light that touched it into tiny rainbows so that it reminded her of a field of endlessly twinkling stars. At the head of the pool, opposite them were three tables that formed a three-quarter square. Closest to them was a black glass goblet with silver adornment. To the left was a chest meant to open facing outward, and, to the right, was a large bowl of similar design to the glass.

Bryana appeared, the picture of power, in the black attire that she favored as a guild mistress of one of the world's guilds that practiced their arts, explored their potential, and did so all while avoiding being known by the greater world. A black cloak covered a black dress that hugged her form tightly to the hips before flaring out slightly while still allowing her full freedom of movement. A silver belt held a buckle with an engraved, hashed representation of a predatory cat. Her eyes were a piercing blue, her features elegant, and her hair flowing in blond waves to her shoulders. She moved as though it were utterly her domain, and it was so.

Indeed, this was a place of work in alchemy and magic that was so hers that it was removed from the eyes of other guilds because it used an understanding of both gleaned from her mate, a man learned in science and magic far beyond the rest of the world, having been whisked away as a child to a near-mythical city in the wastes. If such a place was known by the other guilds in the conclave, they would demand that it be shared to maintain balance, and, much of what she now knew would do anything but that if it were known to the other guilds. Even the transportation spell used to come here was unknown to them.

Bryana came to them and the three inclined their heads to honor Her.

"I have not spent enough time with you of late."

"You are always with us, Mistress," Imir assured her.

"Still," Bryana intoned with a touch of sadness, "I like actually

being

with mine, and you need it."

"As air to breathe," Devin said, her own eyes unable to look away from Her; her love and her all.

She smiled in victory. "My case is proven." She went to Devin, and leaned forward to meet her lips. What began almost cautiously became more passionate kiss while maintaining a certain romantic gentility. Mara saw Devin's shoulders sag ever so slightly and her arms hang more limply at her sides, as if nothing but the passionate kiss was holding her upright. Devin gave no sound to give it away, but Mara saw her little finger twitch and, when the kiss broke, she could hear the quiver in her exhalation that denoted an overwhelming orgasm.

Mara then watched Bryana move to Imir and subdue and drown her in pleasure, running her fingers through that thick, lustrous hair. "This is your favorite from me, isn't it, my Imir?"

"Yessss, Mistress." She was already nearly breathless.

"Almost more than anything else." Her voice was tenderness and tease. "Just caress you. I can caress you to sleep where you dream of me. I can caress you until you cum. All I have to do is pet you like an animal."

Imir's ragged breath caught.

"My animal. My pet. My perfectly tamed pet. You do not have to hold back."

The moan that came from her tickled Mara's own spine.

"Pet you. Pet you forever. Never stop petting you. Never stop..."

Imir's dark eyes suddenly became glassy and distant as she cried out in orgasm, the tiny convulsions of her body only slowly ebbing. The smile Bryana gave in return was loving, but she enjoyed her power there, too.

Then Mara realized how nearly incapacitating Her touch could be. When She stepped between them and cradled Mara's cheeks in her hands, an army couldn't have pulled her away from it. Mistress wanted her, wanted to reward her. But, feeling that touch contour her features, as sublime as it was only reminded her of how unworthy she still was. The word, "No," blurted from her lips before she'd registered that it had done so. Then shame washed over her, so much that she wanted to recoil and flee.

Only that it would have further shamed her and Mistress in her disobedience kept her in place. Her hands went over Bryana's and, "Please" came out sounding like an apology. She clamped her mouth shut to stop the spiral of defiance.

She did not remove her hands and Her gentle voice displayed none of the anger that Mara thought it should have. "Speak."

She caressed Bryana's hands in hopes of drawing strength from her, speaking quickly to try to end and forget her embarrassment. "I am yours, Mistress. I am yours. Do with me as you please."

The response was just as sweet and calm in its command and permission the second time. "Speak, Mara."

Her mouth opened twice before sound came out. "Not now. Please, Mistress. I am not ready. My sisters are one thing, but I am not worthy of you like this." She pushed the thought away again and righted herself. "I belong to you. Do with me as you please."

"It's all right, I understand. Truly. And, to answer your demand, now, and soon. You are ready?"

She kissed Her palm before they parted, somehow knowing now that she wouldn't have to apologize for the 'demand.' "For anything that you wish, Mistress."

"Let it be time then. Come."

She led and the three followed in a straight line to the tables. Mara took a place before the cup while Bryana stood firmly behind the tables. She picked it up carefully in both hands and handed it to Mara who held it with reverence.

"All of it."

Mara tipped it to her lips, slowly at first, simply to taste it, not because there was any question that she would not do as she was told. It was thin, warm, and pleasant, reminding her of toasted bread. She swallowed by the mouthful until there was nothing left, inhaling just a bit to catch her breath after she'd finished. Mara followed Her eyes and replaced the cup on the table, waiting for the next command, meeting Her gaze without flinching as she thought She wished. She felt Mistress looking through her in ways that would have made mortals wither. She was looking through Mara to see what was Mara and what was Her. Mistress would not flinch, so she would not, commanding the part of her that was Mara to obey.

Mistress's face was inscrutable as she watched and waited. Two quick blinks broke the gaze as dizziness spun the room around her. There was a sharp intake of breath as she forced the world to right and it mostly complied. "Follow your sister."

Devin's hand was in hers and that was anchor enough to put one foot in front of the other as she was led to the upper step before the pool. When Devin began to turn her, she closed her eyes and moved in tiny shuffles to keep the world in place. When her back was to the pool, she heard something with weight touch the floor. Opening her eyes, she saw Imir lifting herself from one knee before the bowl that was now on the corner next to her before coming to Mara and reaching to lift her dress from her, exposing her body once again. Devin balanced Mara as Imir removed her shoes, exposing her full nakedness.

Ten slick fingers touched her as Mistress continued to look upon her and through her. The dizziness mixed with a warm, tingling sensation as Devin began to drench her body in the thick oil. The oil felt so good on her skin and the ten fingers rubbing it in seemed to drive it under that skin, through muscle, and into bone. Perhaps it was simply a trick of the vertigo, but she thought she could feel it ooze into her, weighting her down, making her feel deliciously helpless before Mistress. Ten fingers felt like a hundred and twenty felt good in a way almost beyond imagination. Her nipples hardened when hands touched her belly and when they began to coat her breasts she came in a long, lazy sigh, her pussy dripping her essence to the floor so that she could hear it, imagining that it was drooling the oil now, and this being sorcery, perhaps it was.

As those hands touched ever part of her, every inch of her, one of those soft orgasms would come and, after it did, the vertigo would lessen to make room for a growing euphoria. When those greasy fingers entered her holes, working gently, but aggressively, her orgasms were strong enough so that she made sounds of ecstasy that she could hear, but as though someone else was making them. Her mind was moving beyond her body. She could feel. She was aware. She was simply moving beyond the ability to truly care. Another sleepy cum came as Devin put the oil to her face as Imir completed doing so on her back. She smiled at the loving gaze from her just before Mara closed her eyes. "The time comes closer, sweet Mara," Devin whispered.

Mara even felt the thick oil mat her hair and, when she felt fingers drag to work it into her skull, she shivered as if suddenly freezing, understanding why Imir could love the touch so. When she dared open her eyes again, she saw Mistress but knew Mistress was not looking into her or even through her anymore. Her gaze was somewhere beyond them all, her body still, save her lips that muttered a song of words and tones the she couldn't have understood even before finding herself where she was now. The fingers of both hands twitched and moved independently, drawing paths of power that she could feel pass from Mistress, through the bracelet and into her body.

She saw Devin and Imir go into the final chest and withdraw rolls upon rolls of charcoal gray cloth. As they were allowed to uncoil a bit as they were set at the step below her feet she saw the rolls covered with runes and symbols drawn in gold and silver. Some stood alone, while others rolled into one another. Some of those that rolled into one another were short and others she could see went on. If she could have put much thought into it as her sisters placed the fabric in careful order, it would have reminded her of music put to paper.

She floated effortlessly and without care as her sisters in slavery wrapped her feet and legs in the cloth, then allowing them to then bring her legs together and bind them. Her arms and hands were bound and then brought together, crossed over her chest as the careful mummification continued. There was no fear. There wouldn't have been even if she was in tune with her feelings enough to have perhaps felt it. Indeed, it only added to her contentment, feeling like a hug from a loved one or armor that could keep her from all harm. And, when she felt the binding come from her neck and coil around her mouth if felt like a kiss. Imir's smile felt like she was returning that kiss as the wrappings went over her nose and her eyes, leaving her to strain just a bit for breath in blackness. Her armor was complete.

Magic was within her, around her, and even approaching her now as Mistress drew closer. She could feel it. She could feel that power before her as a force of nature and of everything. It was within her, it bound her, and now it surrounded her. She could hear Mistress whisper more loudly in her ear now, but whether that was a matter of proximity or that her incantation grew louder, her addled mind couldn't know.

She cried out when brought back into herself by the energy and the seemingly crushing force of Mistress's hands on either side of her skull. The power stiffened her body to iron and her heart raced in her chest. And, when Bryana released her, her body did not relax in the slightest as it fell backwards into the pool, only to float on the current. Her mind's eye, enhanced by Her power tied to the bracelet, she could see Her aura. Her arms were outstretched, her fingers still moving, her eyes still locked on points elsewhere. The part of her mind that was Mistress and guided the rest of her could feel the sounds now and her body felt even more as the bindings began to tighten, like a great coiled snake wanting to crush the life from her.

Like it wanted to crush Mara's body.

The part of Her thing that was Mara wanted that disgusting vessel crushed. It was useless to Her, so it was useless to her.

As the bindings tightened, she descended. Even through her closed and covered eyes she could see the little slices of rainbow darting around her as if they had thought and desire, letting those desires guide them around her. She was submerged now, and, for an instant, she feared drowning as anyone would, but Mistress wouldn't go to all the effort to down her. If She did though, Mara would contentedly drown. The question was would she drown or suffocate, and if there was technically a difference as the bindings continued to tighten, threatening to drive her arms through her chest and into her sternum. It was like there was a beast's hand around her throat now and another ready to push its thumbs through her eyes just before it's mammoth palms crushed her skull. There was pain now, blinding and paralyzing; too paralyzing even to scream.

But perhaps she would burn instead. The runes and marks on the layered bindings flared now, burning white hot against her skin. Mara had effectively been thrown into dozens of suns, one atop the other from all over her body. She tried to endure for Mistress. She tried with all that she had. When she had nothing left, her mind begged for the will of her sisters, and they were there, adding to Her will.

We endured. You will endure,

Imir promised.

You will endure. You must endure,

She commanded.

We are as much one as not. Your future is at hand. If my future was at hand, what would I do?

Mara found hope through the pain. She found strength in those she loved and that loved her. She found rage at the pain trying to break her before it destroyed her. Her mind marshaled that into a primal scream even as more pain wracked her, the bracelet at her wrist suddenly compressing against her skin and fusing to it as but an extension of his body.

She would fight.

Mistress demanded that she fight.

Her sisters demanded that she fight.

If she did not fight, she would have no future. She stepped into the unknown for a future. She took Mistress's hand even when She tried to warn her away to have a future. She remained silent when Mistress offered her a last chance to walk away because she craved that future beyond her imagining more than all else. She found bravery once in her pathetic life, and, if she allowed weakness to kill her now, she decided that she was better off dead.

I will have a future,

she shrieked.

I will have a life in Her service. I will not surrender because She would not.

Mara dared the pain to kill her and let it try, using it to feed her anger before it burst forth in a mental howl of blind rage.

The bracelet flared white. The flitting rainbows over her eyes flared white. The pain and her rage burst forth. Her body rose from the water as though waking from a night terror and now she heard herself scream. She heard it and felt it in her throat. Around her, steam rolled off the black water as though it had boiled. Mara floated in the water, her body unbound and hers again. What mattered at just this moment was Mistress at the edge of the pool, leaning against Imir and Devin, using them for support as they helped lead her to the stone table that held the cup, her movements unsteady as though the Goddess was drained after creating the universe.

She created mine.

"Mistress," Mara called out in distress, swimming to the edge and lifting herself from the water, heedless of anything but Her needs.

Bryana braced herself against the table and used the other to wave them gently away. "I'm quite all right," she said in an effort to calm the fear in Mara's voice more than anything else. "This particular process is always a bit, well, fucking exhausting," she said with a chuckle, "but I am well, Mara. There is no need for concern."

Mara believed it because She said it and she saw it in her, too. While Bryana still leaned her waist against the table; with calm, slow, focused breathing, her strength was returning. Even so, Mara took her hand all the same, trying to give Her strength. Mara's eyes gazed upward to meet Hers. And in Hers she found approval and that made Mara smile.

"Do you sense your sisters?"

"Yes, Mistress."

She shook her head, "No. I'm sorry, blame my brief fatigue for my lack of clarity. "That's not what I mean.

Sense

your sisters."

Mara reached out. They were open to her and she to them. It would always be so. She weaved a path through Imir, then Devin, and back again, the part of her that was Bryana that both consumed and shared Mara's mind knew how. It was the same way that she knew she could access the magic within the bracelet to use those magics that She wanted her to know.

"Do you understand?"

Imir and Devin were slightly dimmer in will and when it came to the absolute extremes of emotion. They were all still human, but, "I'm more. Why am I more?"

"Because triads have a leader, a first among equals that directs things, and one that contends with problems that may arise when it comes to completing the task. Taking is complex. While all minds are the same, all minds are different. Imir's will quieted much after I took her, even beyond what I needed to quiet to claim her. She feared going back to what she was, so she surrendered beyond what was required. I could have willed differently, but I knew in her heart, that she would never voice to me unless I demanded it, that she did not wish it. She is probably not even be completely aware of it."