Thanks everyone for the wonderful feedback and encouragement, it keeps me writing, and puts the pressure on to perform! I'd expect chapters 4-6 to take a couple weeks each to edit, and the last two chapters (7-8) or so are not written yet so might take longer. I wish I could do this full time, or even part time. And there's still time to influence the story, so if you'd like to see something, or not see something, please tell me! I love reading your comments or feedback, they are like little nuggets of gold. :)
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Lana watched the man anxiously as he took the chains and unhooked a tiny clasp. There seemed to be a circle of chain with two small hoops on opposite sides, and a metal hook, whose function Lana couldn't fathom. Another chain had a thin metal manacle on each end, and passed through the two rings.
Lamare reached toward her, then fastened the circular chain about her waist, where it fit snugly just above the top of her skirt. Then he gently took each of her wrists in turn and fastened one of the metal manacles around each. The manacles opened by pushing a latch and pulling them apart with brute strength, a maneuver that was difficult if you were wearing them, and it presumably impossible for most females. When he was done, Lana noticed that the chains holding her wrists each passed through a ring on each hip to meet in front of her, below the metal hook that stuck out a little. She still had good freedom of motion, and could raise her hands almost to chest height. Nevertheless, the feel of hard metal around her wrists, and the chain around her narrow waist, was disconcerting to say the least.
"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" said Lamare, looking at her. Lana tried to hide her anxiety, not wanting to show anything resembling fear to this man. She thought maybe he looked a bit disappointed. He raised an eyebrow. "Tell me, girl, do your Arbiter abilities allow you to . . . escape these bindings?"
"Perhaps," said Lana, cryptically. She could not think of how she might free herself, but he didn't need to know that.
Lamare moved closer so that he was standing unpleasantly close to her. "Do not take that tone with me, girl," he hissed. "If I am to assure your survival, you need to be forthcoming with me."
Lana shrugged, "I will assure my own survival, I don't need your help." Lamare clearly wasn't used to such attitude from a young female, and his hands came to grasp her upper arms. His painful grip drew a gasp of pain from the girl.
"You will cease this insolence at once. If a slave speaks to her master in such a manner, she will be sorely punished, is that understood?" When she shrugged again he took it as agreement. Then he smiled, as he looked down at her jutting breasts. "Have you noticed your body becoming more sensitive?"
Lana gasped then as his hands moved from her upper arms to her breasts, to cup them in his rough hands. His touch was like an electric shock, and she stepped back immediately to break the contact. "Don't touch me!" she accused, her eyes narrowing in anger.
"You had best become accustomed to a man's touch, if you are to fool anyone into believing you are a Dellune native," replied Lamare.
"I am not unfamiliar with a man's touch," she answered indignantly. "I just prefer it not be yours." Lamare laughed, then quickly moved toward her. Lana stepped back again and bumped into the hard edge of the table, which gave the man an opening to put his arms around her, pinning her chained hands against his front. As she struggled to free her arms, Lamare rubbed his thumb across the bare skin of her lower back. Lana tensed at his casual touch, her mouth flying open as she squirmed against his hard body. Lamare chuckled at her reaction. "Familiar with men eh?" he said. "I would guess from your reactions that you are still a virgin."
Lana looked up at his face, only inches from her own, "Why you . . . you have some nerve," she sputtered. "I am an Arbiter, and you will not speak to me this way!" Lana realized as soon as she spoke how vain that sounded, and she immediately regretted it. Her instructors had always warned her about vanity. This administrator seemed to easily get under her skin.
"I can and I will, slave," said Lamare with disdain. Then he released her. "You are lucky we are on a schedule, or I would discipline you myself." Then he spun her around, "Let's go."
Lamare strode out of the room, and Lana paused before discretely retrieved the vial of salve from her pile of dirty clothing and tucked it away in her hand. With his back turned, she looked at herself, wondering where to hide it, and decided the only secure place would be her underwear. Pulling the chain on her right wrist to get enough reach, she slipped the vial beneath the front of her panties. Then she followed Lamare out of the room and downstairs. Walking through the lobby of the inn, Lana cringed as she was barraged by lustful looks from the male eyes, and she hurried to catch up with Lamare, her breasts bouncing in a way that drew cheers from the crowd. Her face flushed in embarrassment, she tried to tune out the sound of laughter behind her, the men amused by the shy slave in chains. It was a relief when she passed through the double doors of the inn into the quiet street. Outside, the cool breeze brought renewed awareness of the sensuous feel of her soft clothing.
She turned to see Lamare maneuvering his horse over to where she stood. Instead of mounting the tall animal as Warrick had done, he gestured for the girl to put her foot in the stirrup. Then he hoisted her up onto the horse with his hands on her hips, and Lana grabbed hold of the pommel to hold herself in place. Lamare mounted the horse behind her and goaded the animal into motion.
After a minute, they passed through the rear gate of the town, following the dirt trail down a hill and past a picturesque blue pond, before entering the woods. Lana leaned forward in the saddle to keep her partially bare back from touching Lamare's chest. But it was an uncomfortable position, and after some time, she settled back in the saddle and begrudgingly let herself lean back against Lamare. If he noticed, he didn't say anything, and they rode in silence for several hours, during which Lana became sleepy and began nodding off.
"We are crossing the border," said Lamare, his voice bringing her awake. "I will need to keep you restrained from now on."
Lamare stopped the horse, then reached up to her waist and grabbed hold of the chain at her belly. Firmly he pulled the chain away from Lana's waist. "Hey!" yelled the girl in surprise, the chain pulled her wrists in tightly against the metal rings at her sides. Then he wrapped the excess chain in his hand around the pommel of the saddle, securing it, leaving her pulling on her captured wrists in confusion.
With the slack of the chain now taken up, Lana's hands were locked to her sides just above her hips, and she found the sensation of being bound to be frightening. She felt his breath on her ear.
"What's the matter, girl, are you embarrassed to be bound before me?"
"You are confusing embarrassment for revulsion, Lamare," she retorted. He ignored her, getting the horse going again. He pulled the reins to maneuver the horse around a sharp bend in the path through the woods.
"This is how we will ride until our rendezvous, little Arbiter," he said. "How do you like your chains?"
Lana didn't like them at all, and she said so. Lamare kicked the horse into a trot, and Lana suddenly felt helpless with her arms pinned at her sides as she bounced around unable to hold onto anything. She gripped the horse's flanks tightly with her thighs to keep from falling out. That worked for a while, but her thighs began to tire. "Lamare," she protested after almost losing her balance, "how am I to keep from falling off?"
"You must ask for my assistance," he replied, calmly, as the horse picked up the pace, trotting through the streets. Lana was bounced around, and she leaned back against Lamare to try to keep from falling off. It didn't help, and she was damned if she was going to ask for his help.
By that time, Lana's legs were starting to cramp from keeping herself in place. Lamare clearly wasn't going to help her, and asking for his help was an unpleasant proposition. They were alone in the woods now, so she had an idea.
Lana closed her eyes and concentrated. She could tell immediately that her abilities were amplified by the fruit, she felt almost electrified, an intoxicating feeling. With a smile, she looked down to see the chain unwinding from the pommel. She used her mind to keep the chain in a ball, so that Lamare wouldn't notice. Free of the pommel, she suddenly leapt into the air, flipping over Lamare and the horse, to land on her feet some distance behind them on the trail. Startled, Lamare stopped the horse and whipped it around, to find the girl standing, hands on hips, smiling up at him. She held up her hands, and he gasped as the manacles on her wrists suddenly opened of their own accord, falling to her sides, still held by the loops at her waist. Lana smiled broadly. The leap was longer and higher than she'd ever done before, and removing the chains, while seemingly a small thing, was incredibly challenging for a telepath. She'd done it with ease. The fruit was simply amazing. She had to inform the Institute of this incredible development.
Lamare was dismounting, having recovered his wits. He looked positively furious. "Are you mad, girl?" he hissed, keeping his voice low. "What if someone had seen your stunt?"
Lana ignored his scorn. She took one step, then leapt over him, landing softly on the back of the horse, making the animal turn its head and snort at her in annoyance. She patted the animal on the neck, saying "I'm sorry, dear, I'll try to soften my landing next time. Come, Lamare, we are wasting time," she said, looking behind her.
As he moved to mount the horse, she used her mind to swish the horse's tail to smack him in the nose, then was unable to stifle a giggle at the look of annoyance on the administrator's face. With a grunt, he pulled himself up into the saddle behind her, then reached down to reattach the manacles to her wrists. When he was done, he pulled the chain, bringing her wrists tight to her sides, then wrapped the chain about the pommel again. Suddenly there was a clink, and the two manacles clacked open, freeing her wrists. Lana smiled at her mischief. She knew perhaps she was being childish, but it was too much fun.
Then she cried out in pain, as Lamare reached up to grab a fistful of her hair, and pulled back and turned her head to face him. "Now look here, girl," he hissed. "You will cease this at once, or I will call off the mission."
"We both know you can't do that," responded Lana, enjoying his frustration. "And let go of my hair." When he didn't comply, she closed her eyes, concentrating on the difficult maneuver. To finely control five separate fingers of another being, to her knowledge had never been attempted. Even with the aid of the fruit, she found it difficult, but she concentrated, sweat beading on her temples. She would not let the bastard win! Finally, with pain building in her head, she felt his fingers being slowly pried open, freeing her hair, then she pulled back on his arm. Lana smiled and opened her eyes when she heard Lamare cursing. She felt a thrill ripple through her at the feat, and a bit of apprehension. Power had corrupted great Arbiters in the past; she must not let her newfound abilities swell her pride.
"Let go of my arm!" ordered Lamare. His hand was still stuck in mid-air, held there by her mind.
"You must ask nicely," said Lana, giving him an innocent look. Lamare cursed, reaching up with his other hand to try in vain to move his arm. When that failed, he let go of his frozen arm and reached for her neck, as if to choke her. Lana quickly froze that arm as well, and Lamare cursed in an unfamiliar language, now unable to move either arm.
Suddenly, the mildly painful feeling in her head grew into a searing pain, and she brought her hands to her temples, crying out in pain. Lamare's hands were freed in the same instance as she lost her abilities to the debilitating pain.
"What is it?" said Lamare, his voice devoid of sympathy.
