Bound 80

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To be a warrior, you must make friends with pain. It is a constant bedfellow who hung around just to say hello every so often. It lived as a reminder of the hazardous nature of the profession. It was a hazard that Helga knew about from a young age. The spirited woman was raised a fighter and proud warrior, one who shook off the occasional stabbing or attempt to decapitate her with a smile on her tanned face. In fact, she took pride in them, treating each scar as a new trophy to add to her collections of war stories. So Helga was no stranger to pain. Usually, she would grin and bear it, but this time it was different.

The poor woman's arms hung over her head, extending slightly behind her as they were chained to a point on the ceiling. It was a slow-burning pain as she had been in that position for what felt like hours. The chain gave her no slack as she fought to keep her body upright, leaning forward would only tire her more. The bind that she got herself in was ingenious as she found her legs of little use. The shackles around her ankles came with a bar that forced her legs spread, and unmoveable. The chain that bound her hands was so short that it forced her onto the tips of her feet. She knew that she was at an odd angle, her bosom pushed out while her lower body was accentuated. She gritted her teeth fighting the urge to relax a single part, less she suffers sore joints. She would need her body at its best for when she got out of these binds.

"You're back," she growled as her sharpened hearing picked up the echo of footsteps. The pitch-black blindfold around her eyes prevented her from seeing her host, but she could easily tell those steps. They fell heavy obviously announcing his presence to the bound woman, teasing her and making sure she knew he was there. The steps got closer and then she smelled it, the scent he carried. The smell of burnt wood and herbs, a unique scent that always followed mages around.

"Yes I'm back, and I'm glad to see that you're still here," he chuckled. His voice bounced into her ears and made her shake to her core. She hated to admit it, but she loved the way he chuckled out. It calmed her as she swam in the darkness.

"And where would I have gone?" she growled out. Her own mounting frustrations, combined with the slow burn of her aching muscles was doing very little for her mood. Once again the man chuckled, his voice smooth like the wine she consumed during the feast. Rolling her eyes behind the blindfold she lamented getting so drunk that she allowed herself to get into this mess.

Once again his footsteps moved, echoing out in a way that told her he was now behind her. His breath came out slow, an intentional act meant to make the goosebumps rise along the back of her neck. "Hmm, maybe you would've gone back to your chambers, or mine. The grand hall, many different places," he whispered, "I'm glad to see that you chose to stay here with me." The words floated into her ears and she shook. The chains clanked and echoed out throughout the room.

"The cuffs keep me here!" she said refusing to acknowledge him. That was partially true, the man had employed magically enhanced cuffs. Ones that were unbreakable save for a magic word...or if you had the magic power to force them off.

The smooth chuckle from earlier was replaced with a soulful laugh that shook the room. "No my fair maiden, the cuffs keep your arms bound. I'm sure if you tried you could get them off of the hook that they lie on," he said in between fits, "But something tells me you rather not. I think that you enjoy being in this position." Helga ignored him, not caring to answer the accusation he lay at her feet. Instead, she shut her mouth and tried to force her head away from his mouth. In the commotion, the man caught a whiff of her hair as it flew on the wind. The man took a sharp inhale and grinned. He took one of his fingers and trailed it from her neck and down to her lower back, and moved it back up. As she moved to try to avoid the feeling he grinned and kept it up with a little more flare. The pure electricity jumped from his finger and onto her skin as he traced her spine up and down.

"Mage! You dare use magic on me!" she snarled. All she heard back was the soft chuckle as he kept it up, the small spurts of lightning dancing on her skin. He stopped momentarily teasing her as he started to just swirl around her upper back, the lightning still crackling.

"Yes my dear maiden. I am using magic, lightning magic to be precise," he said while getting close to her ear. This time he wasn't content to simply whisper, instead, he bit at her ear. He suckled on the exposed piece of flesh causing her to jerk away, which still made the lightning jump to keep in contact. The sparkling of pain was small compared to the embarrassment she just felt.

"I'm no maiden!" she growled, ignoring the sparks of lightning that peppered her flesh. She continued to jerk and move doing her best to escape but the chain and bar kept her still within the mage's reach.

The mage said nothing instead striking like a cobra, grasping her body in his arms. His voice took on a more sinister tone as he growled, "You seem like a maiden to me."

Helga fought against the urge to collapse and submit, yet her fighting spirit one out. "You're wrong mage!" she spat out still struggling against his impressive grip.

He pulled her body back into his and sat there. The only sound in the room was their breathing. The simple feeling of his chest against her back started to uncover feelings that she was trying to avoid. Swallowing she felt the beads of sweat roll down her face, towards her body which was still viced within the man's grasp. She tried to say something but she found her throat dry paralyzing her from saying anything. That didn't bother the mage instead he bent himself low forcing his lips to her ear, and driving the smell of burnt wood into her nostrils. His voice was low and sinful as he spoke, "Oh my dear, I am not wrong. Here let me show you." He moved his hands to her shoulders and started to rub her. It was slow and tender, broaching on loving. To Helga, it felt like her body was warming up under the touch. Closing her eyes behind the cloth wrap she allowed the feeling to take over her body. Exhaling she soon found the warming sensation growing into a mighty burn. Her senses now returned as she was on edge and smelled the light wafting of the aroma of burning cloth. It was then that she placed the tingling sensation, she was being burned.

Her instincts took over and she fought doing her best to get away, "Don't you dare use flame magic on me!"

The mage ignored her cries and chuckled as he ran his hands down her body, eliminating the light cloth garments which were impeding his approaching lesson. "You know if you move too much I may lose my focus and actually burn you," he said as he worked his way to her hips. He had told her a bald-faced lie, he was too well practiced to let a simple lighting spell hurt her. The thing is she didn't need to know that. Instead, he continued taking the time to roll his hands down her hips, feeling the sturdy curves underneath his grasp. The warrior gasped as she felt the cool wind rush over her. "There we are," he said while stepping away his footsteps moving towards her front. At this point, the woman was aching to get out the cuffs, to stop the burning sensation in her arms, and to rip into the mage. Unfortunately, she knew that she was his plaything until he was satisfied. "Hmm yes you are quite the maiden," he said while admiring her form.

Helga could feel the burn of his eyes as he drank in her form. It was an uncomfortable feeling that made her want to sink within herself. For the entirety of her life, she had taken pride in her enemies seeing her as the embodiment of death, a force of nature meant to send them to the Goddess. Yet here she was prone, her womanhood out on display. To salvage the small bit of her dignity that she had left she growled out, "Mage! Cease the staring and end me."

Casually the mage walked over, allowing her to tense up as he got up close. In a display of aggression, he grabbed her face, cupping her chin in his hand. As she relished being handled roughly and not like a damsel she found herself inhaling that intoxicating scent. The rough yet masculine scent made her think of what she would do to the mage once free. Instinctively she squeezed her thighs together, attempting to find comfort before her captor spoke. "Now why would I rush to end you, when I can just enjoy your beauty," he teased. He was dangerously close to her face and she had the urge to reach out to him. He released her face leaving her jaw sore, and let his finger trail down her body. She could feel the sneer on his face as his finger ran through the strands of her auburn hair. "Oh yes, my dear maiden, these beautiful locks. Like fine silk underneath my fingers. I wonder do all Amazonians leave their hair short? Must be inconvenient on the battlefield," he growled while yanking it down. Her face was now staring at him, but the blindfold still obscured her vision. The only sense left was that smell, the wooden fragrance that held a death grip upon her. Moments passed of her simply breathing, and the mage loved it. It took all his restraint not to capture her quivering lips, but he knew the delayed gratification would be worth it. Making his dominance known he yanked again, causing her discomfort as he interrogated her, "Answer me!"

The woman shook and gasped out, "Uh yes, it is. I tie it up, all warriors do."

A soft chuckle accompanied the woman's hair being released. She thought that she was getting a moment of reprieve but his next move caused her to cry out. The mage had ended his inspection of her silken strands and descended down to her chest. The two mountainous breasts were magnificent testaments, tanned and freckled monuments that ended with brown pointed nipples. The mage smiled as he realized that he was going to have fun. Once again he focused, bringing the lighting spell to life moving to the center of her chest. Steeling her nerve Helga held still, but her breathing quickened. Not wasting the moment the mage started to move his finger in a figure-eight motion, circling around each breast. At first, he went wide making sure to encompass the entire fleshy orb, but as he continued he focused his attention. The circles got tighter and slower, causing her to flinch and gasp. The mage was looking for something more, an excited squeal or something, but the woman refused to give him one. "These are magnificent. Quite impressive, how do you fit these things under your armor?" he asked. The woman blushed but didn't answer. Like last time pain came when she refused to answer the question. He whispered something that escaped her hearing, but the way the lighting burned at her flesh gave her the message loud and clear.

"Goddess!" she screamed and spasmed. The spell while not the most intense pain was still displeasing. The man swept his finger around a few times, exciting her body and causing her nipples to stiffen in delight, while she was tortured.

"Guess you'll answer me, how do you manage these things?"

"Well crafted armor. Our smiths are trained for our figures," she hissed as she kept trying to escape.

The mage laughed and rolled his eyes before continuing. No way was he going to give this up. "Oh I know that, but even amongst the Amazons, these must stand out. I mean could the great hero himself even lift these?" he chuckled. As if he was performing some ancient experiment her scooped one of the monuments in his hand and let it fall. Standing up straight he pondered what to do next. The lighting spell while fun was getting old and a warrior such as this would surely get used to it. He pondered for another moment before a fire of ingenuity lit within him. Bending down to her ear he playful asked, "Surely these are the breasts of an unseeded woman?"

Still recovering from the literal shock she questioned him, "What do you mean spellcaster?"

"I am a man who has seen many wonders," he started, "Yet I refuse to believe your chest can be this large without being with child." He removed his mouth from her ear and dropped down to his knee, getting into a more comfortable position. The warrior was so shocked that she had no response, which didn't bother the man. "I must see, if you are with child then you must be capable of nourishing a youth," he chuckled. Now he was staring at the woman's chest, the two delicate orbs staring back at him. He leaned forward placing his lips against the bud he took it into his mouth, wanting to make sure its twin wasn't neglected he moved his right hand to the nipple. He started sucking hard, mimicking a child hungry for its mother's milk. The feeling shot through Helga's spine and she wiggled. Her body was one that was primed and honed on the battlefield, yet this feeling still cut into her. The duality of his mouth's harsh feasting against his finger's subtle manipulations made her squirm. By now she was starting to pray to the Goddess for a chance to get her hands on the man, but as long as these cuffs existed she wouldn't get that chance.

The mage was enjoying himself too much, feeling a sense of delight at the gasps that involuntarily escaped her mouth. He sat there allowing time to pass slowly as he kept his actions up, teasing the woman and dragging her towards a pool of pleasure she never knew. As the man continued Helga found herself adapting starting to handle the immediate shock better, unfortunately for her, the mage noticed this and put an end to it. With the fleshy teat in his mouth, he mumbled something, allowing the vibrations to wiggle throughout her body. Helga wondered what sick torture the man had planned but soon received her answer. At first, she thought she was imagining the growing heat of his fingers, but as time passed on and the digits swirled around her she knew it was real. The natural warmth of this man's body rose to a feeling akin to being close to a campfire. As her right half dealt with that, the opposite was happening to her left. The man's mouth was declining in temperature, and she could feel the icy sting of his spit. It was an odd sensation that made her feel as if she was losing feeling but even more alive.

The conflicting feelings overwhelmed her and she let out the first sign of weakness. It was tiny and almost inaudible, but it was unmistakable. The mighty warrior let out a moan. The mage leaned back freeing both nipples and looked at her. The woman still blinded refused to look at him, she could feel the grin sliding down her body. She could honestly feel that look drilling into the mighty wall that was her dignity. The mage himself didn't care about the dignity though, now that he heard the sound he had to continue. "Shame, no milk," he bemoaned. His voice was deep and took on a faux feeling of regret.

"I am without child you bullheaded mage!" she growled.

"Hmm but we won't know until I test the next one," he said. Like a cobra he sunk his mouth around the right one, continuing the fueding spells.

"What does this prove?" she panted out. She never wanted to admit it but the treatment was feeling delightful. The man was skilled, and she was left to wonder, how many maidens he ensnared in this trap. Was it hundreds? Thousands? Was she just another poor woman captured by a mage with less than pure intentions? While her thoughts stormed on in her head the mage was at work. He felt young again as he lapped at the numb, making sure the icy magic did its work. His tongue passed over it, striking the nub and wrapping around it. Making it hardened under the treatment. It wasn't just the enjoyment keeping him focused, but his need to keep concentrating, lest he burn her. Somehow she knew this and didn't speak or move away too much. Instead, she fought the building need to let out the primal moan that was building within her. Deep in her chest, it started to rise up, a force that would not be held at bay. As the spells worked teasing her fleshing the feeling kept building. In her mind she fought to hold it back, to build a damn that would stop it. Unfortunately, her resistance was worn down. Her arms were sore and she had to contend with the damn magic-user. All of that had taken its toll, and it showed as she gasped out. The man had successfully pushed her down the smallest of cliffs yet to come.

The pair both knew what happened, even though one of them refused to acknowledge it. The mage beaming with masculine pride stood to his feet and looked at the flush-faced warrior, her cheeks taking on a hue that was nearing the very fire that inspired his spells. "Huh, you're without child, who would have guessed," he said in a flighty manner.

"I told you that!" she screamed out angered at what had just occurred.

"Such a shame, no man has claimed you?" he said interrogating the woman.

"No man will ever claim me, or any Amazon," she sneered, her pride reasserting itself.

"No man has taken you as his prize? No man has made you squeal like some simple wench being filled" he asked.

"I thought mages were supposed to be smart," she teased with a newly found confidence, "No man has ever made me squeal like a simple maiden. Any, who decide to face me on any battlefield know I am inconquerable!"

The heavy footsteps went around to her back and she once again felt his body press against hers. "So what you are telling me is no man has been able to mount you properly. To seed this unexplored land and have you kneel at his feet," he asked while rubbing his hands up and down the silky expanse of her hips. He was obsessed with the strong lower half that existed with motherly hips and a firm backside.

"No," she said this time low as she fought the moan. His actions were gentle and well practice, there was no way that she was his first capture. He started to massage her hips, driving his fingers into the fleshy surface, reigniting her skin with the flame magic, yet to a much lesser degree. The warmth penetrated her muscles and started to coax out another soft moan.

"Does this feel good, Miss Maiden?" he teased as he nipped at her ear. She wanted to so badly say no and growl, but she couldn't fight the small pleasantry. As a warrior she barely got time to relax and rest her muscles, so now as she was in the mage's grasp she realized how warry she was. "Hmm by the way you're moaning I guess that's a yes," he whispered into her ear as she squirmed. She growled hating that he pointed that out to her, but she absolutely did not want it to stop. The mage kept her firm in his grasp, moving his hands up and down, just exploring her body. The mage was having the time of his young life, just exploring her body. It was an unreal experience to have unimpeded access to an Amazon's body. He closed his eyes and brought the woman close, he was now absorbed in the sensation of feeling the smooth muscle. Even though the woman was a warrior he noticed how soft the woman's form was, how nice her flesh felt. The feeling and smell of the woman was driving him insane. A growing portion of him was demanding he take her, demanding that he partake of her body.

Now acting on instinct he gave in to his desires, if only by a little. His hands moved down to her hips, the flame magic warming her body. Carefully he started to swirl his hands around. First, it was her plump buttocks, mesmerizing globes that were firm to the touch, a balance of muscle and fat. After those moments, he moved to her hips, flanging structures that served no purpose other than carrying young. He leaned forward enough to catch the whiff of her scent as she writhed within his clutches. He cared not if it was from discomfort or pleasure, for he was in his own world. He was enraptured by her, feeling her body within his hands. His fingers traveled forward, trailing the spell over her flesh and waking the goosebumps from their slumber. Now he was really tempting fate as he felt her tense up. Those dastardly fingers were close to her womanhood. The space between her strong thighs heated up as the fingers rested there for a second, not that it needed help. Now the woman was lost in a world of her own pleasure, the spells had the desired effect. Her body not used to being toyed with was excited at the prospects of what was to come. This man, no this god had bent the elements to his will and used it to simply ravish her.