Spellbound

Things take an unexpected turn for Maira, as she finds herself in unknown territory.

AUTHOR'S WARNING: The next two chapters will heavily feature bondage, humiliation, and rape. If these aren't your cup of tea, skip ahead to Chapter 5. For those wondering how this fits in with the story, I promise it is relevant to her character and the greater plot.

Special thanks to volunteer editor stbkvln, whose recommendations and questions have contributed directly to the plot, character development, and world building!

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Chapter 3

The following day, her passage through the hills and trees was nonchalant. Arrogant, even. She cared little for keeping a low profile when she already had several days of distance behind her. Her mind was at ease with the assurance of the precautions she'd taken. No human would be able to track her through such obstacles.

Her path was once again blessedly remote, and the ugly wounds of human civilization faded with each step. The renewed energy flowed warmly through her veins, and seemed to connect her to the thriving new growth. Saplings smiled at her. Wildflowers waved in the wind. Her fingertips tingled pleasantly.

The day was as beautiful as she. After sniffing out her surroundings to ensure there were no humans for several miles, she relaxed and began to sing.

A harmony of soft, feminine voices flowed forth from her lips, reverberating through the tree trunks and carrying further than should have been possible. The wordless melody was calming and alluring, never a hint of a sour note. The lilting voices dipped and wove together in a soothing dance, and her smile could be heard in each note.

Maira loved to sing. It was a oft-practiced talent which she took great pride in. But, much like her cousins in the seas to the east, men would flock to her when her song reached their ears. She had seldom needed to use it for such a purpose. More often, it was an inconvenient effect of a beloved pastime.

Her voice would also call to any fellow sisters in the area, warning them of her passage and avoiding interaction if at all possible. Maira had dealt with a handful of territorial disputes over the years, but they were minor spats which rarely resulted in direct confrontation. They were most common when on the move; a hazard she hoped to avoid by announcing her presence. A herd of deer pricked their ears at her, then quickly fled from the apex predator's path.

Maira's pace slowed as she lingered a bit longer in patches of sunlight. She ran her fingers through her hair, releasing a scent of ripe berries. It was smooth and shiny, catching the light in its night-black depths. She sang of new life and warm sunbeams. Of the soft moss beneath her feet, which begged her to remove the chafing boots and sink her toes in.

The breeches tugged at her with each step, and the pack dug into her shoulders painfully. Having worn it all for three days already, she could barely stand it.

Maira acted on impulse, changing her direction slightly toward the scent of cool moving water. A day so lovely needed to be enjoyed properly.

She had found the creek by midday, and stripped off the infernal clothing by a deep eddy. She slipped into it with a smile, singing contentedly, and her eyes slid closed. The cool waters caressed her with their tranquility.

She stretched and bathed for several hours, running her hands over every inch of her supple skin to rub the filth of travel from them. She halted her singing when a single man and horse passed by in her direction of travel, but resumed once he was beyond her effect. There was little else to disturb her. She dozed for a while on the bank as the sunlight licked the water droplets from her body.

Though she made no further progress that day, Maira didn't particularly care. Another of her many skills. Worrying didn't suit her.

She slept nearby, curled in a rotting log damp with new growth. The smell of old leaves and moss were familiar and welcoming, and the creek sang her a lullaby. Come dawn, she was so rejuvenated that even donning her clothing didn't seem so daunting. But she quickly changed her mind about that when she caught a whiff of the shirt. It stank of dirt and sweat, but Maira hadn't the faintest idea how to rid it of that. This was, quite possibly, the longest she'd kept a single set of clothes.

She resumed her previous path with renewed enthusiasm, excited at the prospect of fresh prey in her new territory. Maira was never completely certain that she would know where to stop, but she usually had the luxury of choice in her borders.

Just as she was cresting a small rise, she froze. A warm breeze carried with it a scent which set her heart pounding, and shocked her senses.

A virgin. A young, male virgin in his prime. Even diluted on the breeze, she could taste his potency. And with it came hints of beauty and the pinnacle of strength. Maira was still for but a moment before she set off upwind. She sprinted heedlessly through the springy undergrowth, her feet thudding against the forest floor. A succubus could gorge herself for days on a virgin; he was like a tree laden with ripe fruit, untouched but for her hand. She'd had the privilege only once before, and hadn't needed to feed for nearly a month afterwards.

The delightful smoky scent crooked a finger at her, pulling her upwind with a coy wink. Even with the breeches rubbing against her, she felt her loins burning in anticipation. Her mouth watered.

Legs blurring with unnatural speed, she flashed through the mid morning sunlight. She finally located the source, and wasted no time closing the distance.

The campsite was particularly remote, which was convenient for her purposes. She sensed the powerful heartbeat of a horse, which would normally have been a nuisance, but was well worth the additional trouble. Maira came into view of a large, grassy clearing, bordered by trees which cast patchy shadows. The horse was tied to a large cart nearby, and it whinnied in alarm at her approach. She paid it no mind. Her focus was entirely on the large canvas tent near the center, within which a man slept. The scent was unusually overpowering, and laced with smoke. It wasn't until later that she would stop to think how strange it was that a man would sleep while sunlight streamed into his open tent, and did not stir at any sound. She dashed into the clearing.

A bright purple glow flashed before her eyes, stunning her. Every muscle in her body slackened, and she went limp mid-step. Her delicate form crumpled to a heap on the ground. Her breath left her.

"Yes!" came a jubilant cry, "Yes, YES! IT WORKED!" The man roared and whooped victoriously, bursting from his tent and rushing towards her.

Maira tried desperately to get her feet under her, but only succeeded in flopping listlessly to one side. She felt wrong. So very wrong. It was as if a limb had been torn from her. As the man circled her, screaming joyously, strength drained from her bones. Her face pressed into the grass. It was then that she realized what felt so disturbing: she could not feel the presence of her magic. Her senses, speed, and enchantment were being siphoned away.

Maira gasped for air, then retched into the ground. Her eyes were wide with shock. The man knelt beside her.

"You

stupid

whore! Not even a moment's hesitation! Was that really all it took? A bit of herbs whipped you into such a frenzy?" He gestured towards a small bowl in the center of the clearing, where a thin line of smoke curled in the sunlight. Her stomach twisted as she realized how grave a mistake she'd made: the scent had been nothing more than a concoction of smoldering herbs. There was never any virgin. All about them was that malicious purple glow, stealing everything she was away from her.

Maira felt the icy grip of fear around her heart. Fear like she'd never experienced. Panic clouded her thoughts, and she desperately flailed her limbs in an attempt to flee. It must've looked pitiful, for the man began to laugh.

"Rise, mighty creature! Rise and fight the lowly man!" He was tall and slim. Hardly intimidating. His shaggy blond hair and clean-shaven face should have been been attractive, but his lips were curled into a cruel and revolting smile. His eyes deepened the fear in her chest. She delved deep into herself, gathering the last of her waning magic in desperation, and pushed it all into her voice.

"Unhand me," she seethed through clenched teeth, "let me go." But the man didn't react to her words. It was as if she hadn't even spoken. Maira felt like screaming, but couldn't catch her breath.

The man seized her by the shoulder and flipped her over, his face inches from hers. "Tell me, bitch. Do you remember me?" he asked, louder than was necessary. A light spray of spittle hit her cheek. She looked, but could not recall his face. He searched her expression for recognition, and when he did not find it his features contorted in anger. "Six years ago. Do you not recall? Baccus, from Edinran!" He waited again, watching her closely. Try as she might, she couldn't place any memory of him. He drew back in disbelief, and then held her head firmly in both his hands. His voice trembled with rage.

"You little cunt. With all that you stole from me... After the years I have suffered at your hand, working to learn what it was you did to me, you can't even find the decency to remember it?" He rattled her head, fingers digging into her scalp and cheeks. "You stole my life's greatest joy! Deprived me of it for years! Was that so inconsequential for you?" It was. But she wasn't about to confirm that to a madman.

It was then that she noticed a pale yellow mass protruding from his ear. She squinted... was that beeswax? Had he stuffed beeswax into his ears to keep from hearing her voice?

Baccus released his grip and stood, pacing angrily. He then stood over her crumpled form, and pressed a bare foot into her chest.

"I will have my debt repaid. You will suffer as I have suffered." Maira attempted to push past her exhaustion, shuffling away from him without any evidence of her former grace. Never had she felt so utterly out of control, and it nearly made her sick again.

He bent forward and struck her across the cheek. She yelped at the sharp sting, pain radiating through her face, and swiftly realized that this was the first time she'd truly felt pain. Her magic would normally mingle it with pleasure, no matter how great. But pain in its pure, undiluted form was sickening. She tried to flee once more, but not a one of her limbs could bear any weight.

"Try all you like, you'll never escape it," gloated Baccus as he watched her, "You're mine now." He grabbed one of her ankles in an iron grip, and began dragging her back towards the tent. She clawed desperately at the ground, ripping up rocks and patches of grass. She let out a yell that was part groan and part scream. Her pack and cloak slid from her shoulders, snagging skin as they went.

"Why so resistant, my dear?" chimed Baccus as he hauled her by the leg. "If you hadn't wanted to be found, you should've made it more difficult for me." Did he mean to kill her? Surely he could've done so already. What revenge could he have planned, to have set so elaborate a trap? She feared the worst.

He flung her leg to the ground and rolled her onto her back. She tried to push him away, but he held her wrists with little effort as he sat on her abdomen. His weight was enough to immobilize her. "What, did you think you couldn't be tracked? Those pitiful attempts to keep a low profile were your best effort? Surely, a monster like you would know better." He spit at her, and she felt it hit the corner of her lip. Anger flared in Maira's eyes. She kicked wildly, boots scraping the ground, but barely succeeded in shifting his weight.

"How dare you," she said, her voice quavering, "you are not worthy of my gifts. You deserve nothing. Unhand me!" But Baccus only shook his head and tsked. He gestured to his ears.

"You'll have no effect on me, enchantress. But, if even you can't understand that, perhaps I'll have to silence you." He hooked a thumb inside her cheek, tugging at her mouth before she could react. "I care not for what you have to say." He then withdrew a strip of cloth from his pocket, and forced it between her teeth. Maira jerked her head away, pushing at his hands, but that earned her another stinging slap which left her dazed. He knotted the cloth tightly behind her head, pulling several hairs out by the roots as he did so. She hissed.

Baccus grabbed her wrists and forced them down by her sides, pinning her arms beneath his legs. He then removed the beeswax from each ear, sighing in relief. The midday sun sparkled in his wheat colored hair as he glowered over her. She found it disconcerting that the sun could touch him at all.

His hand found her throat and held it firmly. She swallowed. He leaned forward and pressed his nose into her hair, inhaling deeply. The breath tickled her temple as he released it with a soft moan. He then exposed her neck, and licked her skin from collarbone to ear. The feeling of his slippery warm tongue sent a chill up her spine, and she flinched away from it. The gag muffled her whimpering.

"What was that?" he whispered into her ear, "I couldn't quite understand you." His tongue and teeth grazed the sensitive skin of her earlobe. She shivered.

Get off!

she tried to say, but the gag turned it into a muted plea.

"You want more, you say? Well, I've got plenty more planned for

you,

filthy creature." He bit down sharply on her ear, and then straightened. He began tracing his fingers down her neck, over the hollow of her throat, and over her chest. Her breath quickened. When he met the hem of her shirt, he slipped a hand in and squeezed. Maira writhed under him, trying to yank an arm free, but couldn't even shift it while his legs pressed down on her. Baccus was not gentle. He clutched and pinched her breast so hard that she could feel bruises already beginning to form. She winced as her magic failed to relieve the pain.

"Oh, don't act so displeased," he said, mouth curling with disgust. "You left a perfect trail for me to follow. You left magic and victims and footprints everywhere. You even left one with memories for me to find!" He gripped the neckline of her shirt in both hands and tore it open, revealing her bare torso. She recoiled at the feeling of the open air. "And then you allowed me an entire day to get ahead and prepare everything. You'll be delighted with what I have in store." His hands slid over her ribcage and breasts, and her nipples hardened against his palms. His gaze slid downward from her face. "Mmm," he cooed, biting his lip, "I see nothing has changed."

When her hands began to go numb from the pressure of his legs, he finally stood and released her. He seized her shoulders and hauled her up while ripping away the ruined shirt. She wasted no time in attempting to crawl away, and nearly bashed her head against a strange table made of heavy wood behind the tent. The dark, rectangular surface was wrought with metal and thick chain anchor points. She didn't stop to consider its purpose. When Maira's limbs again failed to carry her, she curled into a ball on the ground, arms crossed over her naked chest. The knot of the fabric gag tugged at her hair.

Baccus stood over her. "Has the monster forgotten what it was made for?" A strange leather object dangled from his hand. "Let me help you remember." He caught hold of a wrist, yanking her arm away from its protective position. He secured a thick leather strap around it, and Maira heard the clink of metal as it tightened. With a deft maneuver, her other wrist joined the first. The short chain between them was the only sound in the clearing besides the rustling of leaves, and distant songbirds who continued singing, heedless of her plight.

Maira continued to fight despite her strength being fully depleted. In truth, "fight" was a strong word for her actions; "floundered pitifully" would have been more accurate.

Baccus lifted her by the chains binding her wrists and hefted her over the table, so that she was bent over its edge. He pulled her arms straight, and then secured the cuffs to a ring embedded in the opposite edge. Her hips dug into the sanded wood as her legs failed to support her weight. She attempted to kick him as he cuffed her ankles to two of the table legs, but it was useless. He soon had her immobilized and bent over at the hips. The alien feeling made her sick with dread. She tugged at the chains, but the table did not so much as creak in response. A tiny whimper escaped her throat.

"Silence," he spat, "you disgust me."

Her breasts and chin were pressed flat against the smooth boards, and her hair flowed over her bare back. She felt hands running up the legs of her breeches, slowing when they reached the top. He ran his palms roughly over her ass, and then cupped her from beneath. Maira squeaked and jerked away, but could barely move an inch. His hand remained, and began to stroke her over the thick fabric. She tried to bring her knees together, but there was no slack to do so.

"I've waited so long for this," Baccus muttered to himself. A familiar sound of metal scraping against leather caught her ear, and she craned her neck around to see the flash of a knife. "I spent two years at the mage's guild finding and restoring my memories," he addressed her. "Two years! To puzzle out what your miserable cunt did to me." His hand tightened as he said it. He then collected a handful of fabric at the waistline of her breeches, and began to cut through it. "I travelled to five kingdoms, consulted no fewer than eight schools of sorcery," he continued as he worked his way through the garment, "gathered materials from the sunset lands, crossed two seas," he cut open one of the legs, "and practiced more spells than most mages learn in their lifetime. They all told me it couldn't be done! 'Don't waste your time. No one can resist them.'" His tone was mocking. He scoffed. "If Teegan could see me now..." he trailed off as he freed her other leg. He began to tug the shredded cloth away, and she felt the sunlight warm her bare skin. For the first time in Maira's life, she hated being naked. She yearned for the safety of the coverings, and wanted to hide herself from this man's eyes.

"Yes..." he muttered. She could hear the cruel smile in his voice. Baccus smoothed his hands over her legs and hips, as one would inspect finely carved furniture. He swept her hair aside and ran his fingertips up and down her back. His touch made her skin crawl. He seemed to be availing himself of all the smooth flesh he could reach, simply because he could. A sharp smack echoed off the trees before the pain registered, and he squeezed her ass firmly before slapping it again. She flinched.

Baccus circled the table, a thumb to his lips, and inspected her from every angle. He brushed aside a strand of hair from her forehead and pinched her chin, forcing her gaze upward. The gag tugged at her cheeks.

"You exist for this, you filthy creature. You're made to be used and discarded." Defiance flared in Maira's eyes. "A monster that's only as good as its cunt. And make no mistake, bitch: I will have my fill of it." His own hatred blazed forth from his eyes, alarming in its intensity. "I want you slick and hot for me, understood? You

will

give me all the satisfaction I've been deprived of these last six years." She shivered. Having no concept of what he'd want from her was gut-wrenching; she doubted she'd be able to refuse, and feared what he might demand.

He released her chin and strode behind her. The next thing she felt were his fingers massaging the point where her legs met her groin, and she heard him kneel between her feet. His gaze could be felt more strongly than the sun's rays, and she wanted more than anything to turn herself away. He brushed her lips with an exploratory touch, and then parted them, spreading her wide open. She felt his warm breath as he leaned in close. Maira squirmed as the discomfort became overwhelming; never had she felt so vulnerable. She was bent over as if presenting herself to him, exposed to the open air and his hungry eyes.