Dragon Day was held on the vernal equinox, a time that the spring famine, when there is one, starts to bite hard. The day was not one of elaborate feasting or celebrations for the villages, but serious business conducted with minimum ritual. The weather was unpredictable and changeable. Dragon Day that year had been clear and warm with a brisk south wind. During the night, the wind had weathered through west on its way to the northeast and a storm, but that storm had not come yet.
At first light, I roused them. “Rise, my ladies. There is much to do today, but the first task is a cleansing … to wash off your old life.” I had a bag of soaps and lotions with me that filled the air with fine aromas.
“We are going out?” said Ana.
“Yes, my dear, to the nearby stream. There you will wash away your cares and concerns. Pick something from the closets now to wear after that—something suitable for kitchen work. You will prepare a meal when you are finished bathing.”
I stepped out of the room for several minutes. This time all three ladies picked out a dress.
“Before we go, I will bind you,” I said, as I pulled some ropes from the bag and slung them over my shoulder. There were looks of mild disappointment.
As Ana’s hands came behind her, they rested side-by-side on her rump and her shoulders slid back in a most pleasing way. The skin of her arms was quite delicate, and when I pulled them away from her body to slide rope around her wrists, they came away easily. She was quiet and still as coils of rope circled her wrists and were then cinched. She was bound. I patted her on the rump and she moved away.
Marija was quite limber. When I pulled her arms behind her, her elbows touched and she drew a quick breath. Her hands were held well away from her body, palm-to-palm. This woman had experienced bondage and enjoyed the experience, at least in her fantasies. The invitation was … too inviting. I bound her elbows as well as her wrists, and her body was subtly but clearly thrilled. She was going to be a pleasure!
Adrijana walked up, turned, and presented her wrists crossed behind her back. I tied them there, and tied them well. There was great tension in her arms; I though perhaps she was trying to get some slack so she could escape later. After her wrists were tied together, I tied them tightly to her waist so she couldn’t squirm them around.
With my ladies ready for a walk, I led them out. “Walk around. Enjoy the garden first,” I told them.
Elsewhere Dragon Day is not the prettiest time for plants, but I always took pains to have the garden behind the workshop look as much as possible like early May, with spring flowers out and in bloom. The Dryads who assisted me in this still felt indebted to me for what I did during the invasion by the Turks and Kalnichovs.
The ladies were impressed. They wandered a bit, prancing gracefully through the dewy grass in their bare feet and kneeling down to smell the flowers, the dawn sun glinting in their hair. I enjoyed the garden oh so much more when “my ladies” were bound in it.
After a few minutes they came back to me and we continued along the path to the banks of the nearby stream. At this point in its course, the stream fell noisily over a waterfall five meters high with a deep undercut, into a brilliantly clear pebble-bottomed pool. On the grass sward above the pool I had the ladies kneel. Next to the water I threw out a blanket and set the cleansing potions on it, many fine bottles filled with brightly colored liquids and wafting delightful fragrances into the glen air, and equally colorful and fragrant bars of soap.
“I will release you, now. Please take off all your clothing and bathe. Wash thoroughly, body and hair, and … enjoy yourselves.”
I took the rope from Marija’s elbows and wrists. At first reluctant, finally she asked, “May I undress in the water?”
I was usually asked that. The clothing was designed to survive such treatment. “You may. Of course!” I picked out a red bar of soap to wave gently under her nose.
Marija took the bar, waded into the water, gasping a bit at the chill, until breast deep before removing her dress.
“Throw the dresses back on the shore,” I told the three and Marija did so.
As I released Ana, I saw a flash of concern on Adrijana’s face. Ana moved into the water and disrobed, and I moved behind Adrijana. While we walked she had managed to slip a loop off of one wrist—both her wrists were reddened with the effort. Instead of untying her immediately, I played with her hair against her neck as I spoke softly into her ear. “Some look upon this as a paradise on earth, but you seem to have other thoughts. Tell me what they are.”
At first she said nothing. I waited, continuing to stroke her hair and neck in a careless way. I was in no rush.
Finally she said, “Until yesterday, no man was my master. Some had tried, but I am strong.” Her arms strained against her bonds. “Then yesterday, I was thrown into a cage, hauled off against my will, and bound to a stake. Today, I am bound again. You may enjoy this, Baron, but it is not to my liking.”
“My dear, your feelings are understandable given your upbringing. But … your world has changed, and because it has changed, your expectations, and feelings must change. … Do you like how I am touching you now?”
“No!” She squirmed a bit, trying to move away. Fortunately for her, it felt delicious in my hands, because I could sense the beginning of ambivalence. I felt a small spark of that feminine instinct to enjoy a man’s touch … a small one. That would have to be fanned, if she was to survive.
“You are now bound to the world of men,” I told her. “And it’s unlikely you will ever be free of them again. If you were to free yourself now, where would you go? To your mother? And get her disgraced … perhaps killed by a mob?”
“Somewhere!” She leaped up, moved a meter away, and faced me while she struggled furiously against her ropes. I found it quite sensual the way her shoulders circled around her ribs as she fought the waist rope and tried to straighten her arms. She did not try to run away, so I knew this was a protest, not an escape. That was good, and she moved well. She could be a world-class pleaser of men if I could convince her that it was in her interest.
Ana and Marija gaped at her from their places in the water.
I took the rope I had pulled off Marija and made a quick snapping motion at Adrijana. With magical accuracy it wrapped three times around her neck without tightening. Her struggles stopped with almost as quick a snap, and I dragged her towards me until she knelt in front of me, sobbing quietly.
“Poor, poor Adrijana,” I said in genuine sympathy. With another quick motion I unwrapped the rope from her neck and turned her around. This time she did not resist. I unwrapped the wrist and waist ropes and slipped the dress from her shoulders down to her waist. The skin of her back had the redhead’s classic sprinkling of freckles.
“Stand,” I said gently. She did, and the dress fell gracefully from her body. The freckles ended at the small of her back. Her spirit had now abandoned her body, leaving it ready to suffer any indignity that I, a man, would inflict upon it. Her body might suffer; her soul would not. I knew it to be a classic female response, an ecstatic thrill for a young man who had not experienced it before. I myself had seen that state in a woman many times. In mankind’s long, violent history, I wondered, how many successful bondings between man and woman had started this way?
But taken at a time like that a woman is forever broken, like a wild horse conquered—she will serve, but she will never know passion while she serves. She can never know the mystery of romantic love. While some men are satisfied with this, and some even revel in it, I do not! That was not what I had I mind for Adrijana. I wanted her to love and enjoy love.
“Arms behind you.” She crossed her wrists behind her back, standing strong and rigid, like a soldier at ease. A more flexible woman would, as Ana did, have placed her hands side by side on her rump, while the most flexible, like Marija, would pull her elbows far behind, hands palm-to-palm.
But I did not bind Adrijana. I circled around her, my hand wandering over her shoulders, chest, and back, sliding up and down her arms, feeling her ribs and stomach, noticing that her hip bones protruded nicely over her tight belly. In her current state she was not ticklish. My hand wandered further, across her thighs and rump. Finally, she looked at me with a spark of curiosity. She had not been taken, so her soul was now impatiently waiting to return into her body. The instinct had been aroused but not implemented, so she would be more resistant to going out of body in the future. Good!
In a final gesture, I fondled her breasts a bit … I am a man, after all … before telling her, “Go cleanse.”
She headed mechanically into the pool. I called out, “Ladies, Adrijana needs your help. You must cleanse her, and cleanse her well. Top to bottom, and all that lovely hair.”
I watched as the shock of the cold water snapped Adrijana’s spirit completely back into her body. Marija and Ana starting giggling and whispering as they doused her with water and lathered her with soap. Adrijana looked back at me quizzically, then I saw her taking notice of Marija and Ana’s soft hands and sensuous strokes. Their warmth melted the terror of the moment before.
The women laughed and played in the pool. They tried the various ointments and unguents. The water, their hair, and their skins became a cacophony of colors and scents. Meanwhile I had Elf children bring up luncheon supplies and start a fire in the hearth subtly carved in the rock cliff.
“Enough for now, my precious ladies!” I shouted. “Now, you must earn your keep!”
They looked up inquiringly.
“You must prepare my breakfast.” I gestured towards the hearth, and the table that was filled with the beginnings of a meal.
Somewhat reluctantly, the girls came out. They took their time drying themselves, complaining that they could do nothing with their hair even as they combed, shaped, and braided. The results were stunning. Never underestimate how much beauty hides in a long-haired woman half a dozen years past puberty.
After dressing they went about a familiar business: Preparing a meal for a master. All of the last twenty-four hours had been new and strange for them, but this was a ritual they all knew very well. The conversation became muted, the hands moved deftly and quickly, and soon tasty morsels appeared.
From the picnic bag I pulled out a small folding table and chair and sat down. Each woman brought me a plate.
“When you are not preparing, you may sit by me and touch me,” I told them.
Normally, they had prepared, served, then left quietly, so they were not quite sure what to do now. I motioned for them to stand beside me. Marija and Ana did so. I took a hand of each and put them lightly on my shoulders.
“Where you go, there will be new customs,” I said.
Adrijana stood off. “I choose whom I touch.”
“Then put your hands behind you.”
She did. I made what the peasants call a “magical motion”—this time it was, in reality, a hand signal to the invisible Dryad whose service was to keep this grove charming. Ana and Marija gasped as one of the ropes floated off the ground and bound Adrijana’s hands. She calmly tossed her head, moving that wondrous mass of red hair. Her breasts bobbed delightfully as her shoulders accommodated the growing mass around her wrists. Then the rope snaked about her waist and she was once again helpless.
“Kneel.”
She balked for a moment, then a knee buckled; the Dryad had helped her down. Her head held high over that tall body, she glared at me—very unladylike. Where did this woman learn her manners? Still, there was intelligence in those eyes, and so some hope for her.
“I humor you today, my dear, because it’s a wonderful day and it suits me. But you are no longer master of your own fate … not that you ever were. If you are not able, and willing, to learn and obey new customs, you should become Dragon food.”
I paused to sample some of the food on the table. The hands of Ana and Marija were still on my shoulders, somehow adding a wonderful flavor to the meal. It was a pleasurable time, and I was still in no hurry.
“If you will not touch me, entertain me,” I ordered Adrijana.
Her head finally bowed at what must have been a familiar command, and it evoked a familiar response, thank goodness! There was indeed hope for her!
“How may I do that, my lord?”
“Your hands are tied. Use your mind and your voice.”
After a moment the girl began a popular song in the region, “The Black Wind”. When the chorus came, the other two joined in, their hands dancing a bit on my shoulders. Ahh … Truly a wondrous piece of music! I was well pleased. On the fourth chorus, I was chiming in as well.
I fear that my lack of poetic talent hurts the translation below, but I hope the meaning is clear enough.
The Black Lynx then was a prince of men.
And the knights came round and round.
None could stand when his sword came to hand.
And the knights came round and round.
Oh the black wind, oh the black wind,
When the knights came round and round.
He sallied forth to right all wrongs.
And the knights came round and round.
But Lackluster Jan had other plans.
And the knights came round and round.
Oh the black wind, oh the black wind,
When the knights came round and round.
Jan struck him high, Jan struck him low.
And the knights came round and round.
The Black Lynx took a mortal blow.
And the knights came round and round.
Oh the black wind, oh the black wind,
When the knights came round and round.
On a hillside topped with black rocks tall.
The knights came round and round.
Jelena saw the Black Lynx fall.
And the knights came round and round.
Oh the black wind, oh the black wind,
When the knights came round and round.
The song was about the ambush two decades before of a popular leader whose nom de guerre was “the Black Lynx”. He was Adrijana’s father, Robert O’Keefe, retired from my army but still serving me domestically. He was reputed to be a bandit who robbed from the rich and gave to the poor, like Robin Hood in old England. The giving to the poor was real enough; I financed that. His reputation meant that malcontents naturally turned to him, and Robi kept an eye on them for me.
But it also meant that the Kalnichovs chose him as an ally in a plot to assassinate my father Baron Patrik Rostov and me. The plot was foiled and they unfortunately concluded it was the Lynx who had betrayed them. They had him ambushed among the black crags of Squirrel’s Perch.
I respected Robert greatly, and I paid a minstrel for a song about him. In order to enrich my peasants’ lives I requested it in a new form that I had heard in my travels. “The Black Wind” remains widely sung, and its form widely imitated. I hope that wherever Robi is he gains some satisfaction from my tribute, and from his daughter performing his tale so powerfully that day.
I also saw to it that “lackluster Jan” and his bandit-knights paid dearly for their incursion. They were quiet deaths; the fever they died of is quite efficient at closing the throat, and is even more feared in this valley than rabies.
There is no fifth verse to chronicle that part of the episode.
When I finished eating, I said, “That was excellent. I would like more.”
That was a critical point. Ana and Marija returned immediately to the preparing table, but Adrijana remained kneeling, staring defiantly at me. There are limits to my patience, and it was shorter then than it is now in my age. While I applaud spirit in any person and it would have given me no pleasure to make Adrijana the first woman I returned to the Dragon against that woman’s will, I could not support someone who habitually rebelled without hope of success. In my mind, I began counting: One … two … three …
Then I saw in her eyes that she had decided to change her strategy. She rose sinuously, walked to my side, and knelt again with her head down and the rope knots within easy reach for me. I undid one knot so that the rope around her waist fell away but the coils around her wrists remained. She rose and stood beside me, slowly working her wrists. The coils did not give up their grasp, but I nearly gave up a gasp; I could not let this woman’s instinct for sensuality be lost!
“Will Master assist me?” she asked quietly.
I patted my lap, and she sat on it. I caressed her thighs and belly again. My touch still did not warm her, but that would come, and for now she had made a giant leap towards surviving. I released the coils from her wrists and she joined the others in serving me second helpings of everything.
As servants do worldwide, the women ate when I was finished. That custom I would not try to change.
Then we sat on the lawn, I with my back to a tree and each in turn sitting before me so that I could get them used to the touch of a man. As I massaged the first, Marija, I told them all, “Should you choose to live, you are headed for lands where men have come from far away to work hard and have become very rich. But while working hard they have had no time to look for wives. Some expect that when they get rich enough they will go home to look for a wife. When they do, the women of their far-away homelands are very happy. But some of these men become rich and, though still young and strong, somehow still find no time to look for a woman. That is where you ladies come in.”
Marija’s head was bobbing, her eyes half shut, her breathing shallow. When I grasped her dark hair to shift her head, it moved willingly, and when I pulled an arm behind her back, the limb stayed until I moved it forward. I was confident she was developing a taste for man’s touch, so that she would not choose the Dragon but rather highly pleasing some man.
“My lord, will you not keep us yourself?” asked Ana.
I motioned her to take Marija’s place. That morning her blonde hair was in a loose braid that descended to mid-back. I undid it and started combing her wavy hair. “I suspect you will serve a man well, Ana, but it cannot be me or any of my people. One reason is the risk. Even in my most remote holdings, the wrong person might discover you, bringing scandal on your family and mine. Gossips would say I created and promoted Dragon Day just to lure maidens from my villages. I cannot risk that.
“Second, you will do much better where I’m sending you. The men there are rich, which makes their wives rich, too. With any luck, in years to come you will have some wealth at your command. This may seem wildly optimistic to you now, but it is true. Then if you choose to support your family with your wealth, I will see that your family and your village benefit from your sacrifice without knowing that you have sent the money or even that you are alive.”
This thought warmed Ana up immediately. She was not as tangibly excited as Marija by my touch, but, as my hands moved around her back and arms she relaxed herself more.
Finally, I gave Ana a couple of thumps on the back and declared, “Time for Miss Okiv.”
When after a moment’s hesitation she sat in front of me, she put her hands behind her.
“You wish to be bound?” I asked in surprise.
“I have not given you permission to touch me. If you want that privilege you must take it, as you have done repeatedly.”
Frustrated, I tied her quickly and somewhat roughly, her arms held high up her back by a loop around her neck, her head pressed down to her bound knees.
I made the massage as leisurely as the binding was quick, with my touch asking questions of her body.
“Do you like this light, brushing motion?” my fingers asked her back.
“Are you partial to long strokes up and down here?” my hands asked her thighs.
Overall her response was muted. She still felt stiff, like a soldier being strong against torture. But nevertheless she was submitting, so that I could hope her body’s natural response would soon come into play.
After we returned to the workshop and the ladies prepared lunch, I chose their clothing for the afternoon myself, setting out dresses of common cloth—scandalously short-skirted by their village standards, but clearly working clothes nonetheless. From a closet outside their cell, I set out brooms, mops, cloths, and buckets.
“I apologize, my ladies, for the mess I have allowed this workshop to become, and I beg you to spend the rest of the day cleaning it for me. While you are doing that, I will be working on my equipment.”
All the women understood this work well and took right to it. In a large workshop filled with nearly a year’s worth of dust and grime, they would be busy for quite a while.
I spent the afternoon and evening preparing my dragon machine for storage until the next year. As a modern mage I mixed magic in with my machinery. Despite its looking to be mostly mechanical, quite a few elementals and Imps were involved in helping my dragon operate. Those had to be released from service—and well rewarded, if I hoped to see the dragon operate the next year—while the machinery was broken down for storage.
Thus my ladies and I stayed busy until sunset, when I directed them to the kitchen. Most of the year, it was used by Elves, who helped me when I researched there. But when I have ladies in the workshop the Elves stock up the pantry and then stay out of sight at first.