An Oath to Mida

The room revealed by the swing of the door was not large, muddy reds and blues and greens and browns darkened still more by the lack of brightening light from the window. Here and there upon the floor cloth lay discarded coverings, weapons belts, strapped footgear, and the like, well-tended weapons alone covering the walls. Much did I wish even one of the weapons within my grasp, yet was such a wish idle. Quickly did Nolthis slide a bar of metal across the door to prevent its swing, and then I was pulled to his sleeping platform, where his foot cleared a space upon the thinning floor cloth. With various sized pots and soiled coverings aside, I was forced to my knees upon the floor cloth, and quickly were my wrists bound behind me.

“We have some hind yet before I must report for duty,” said this Nolthis with a grin, straightening from my wrists and beginning to remove his covering. “I shall not take the time and begin slowly with you, for too much time has already been wasted so. Within a matter of feyd shall you obey me completely, for I shall have little patience with you.”

I made no answer to the male, fighting the fury within me silently, so that I might find myself unbound the sooner. Instead, I attempted to regain my feet, but this was contrary to the will of the male. With his foot, he knocked me to my side upon the floor cloth, and then was he free of his covering. Broad and hard was his body, scarred with marks of battle, and eager indeed was his maleness for Jalav. Quickly was he upon the cloth beside me, and his muscled arms nearly brought a gasp from me as they circled my back.

“Still feel the lashing, do you?” he chuckled, his hand going to my clan covering without removing it. “A good lashing it was, too, and well deserved. I shall have to procure a lash for my own use, should the need arise. Best you hope you never earn it, wench, for a lashing at my hand will not be as light as that which you received from the High Seat.”

His fingers moved below my clan covering, teasing my blood to stirring, yet I felt a quivering of another sort within me. Not again was I willing to face the lash, not again did I wish the agony of its touch, yet was I possessed by one who would joy in its use, one who was eager to see me writhe beneath it. Within my soul a wail began, and the face to whom the wail called was not that of Mida.

“I have heard that you wenches made practice of capturing men and using them for your pleasure,” said Nolthis, his hand leaving my body to slowly remove my clan covering. His green eyes looked close upon my face as he spoke, and my covering gone, his hand returned to my body. “I do not care for the sound of such,” said he with a grin, “therefore shall I show you that your pleasure is no longer of consequence. You are not yet ready to receive a man, therefore shall the lesson be sharp.”

On the cloth was I forced flat upon my belly by him, and then were my hips raised. In such a manner was I first taken by him, his hands hard to my breasts, and naught save pain did he seek to bring to me. My body, unknowing, attempted to respond to his, yet was this not as he wished. No response but resistance did he seek, his strong fingers clamping tight to my nipples to force upon me the need to attempt escape. There was no escape from his driving maleness and determined hands, though in desperation I made the attempt, and much amused was the male by the actions he produced.

“Good,” he panted, moving upon me with strength. “Try your will against mine, wench, and learn that much sooner that my will shall prevail. Now shall you be shown another thing.”

His maleness left the place he had brought to heat, and then was I stabbed at in another place, a place no male had ever gone to before. In pain and shock I cried out against such use, yet he forced himself within me with laughter. No escape was there from such shaming and pain, no escape from his raucous laughter, no release from the burning need he had begun. The male found full release where he battered against me, not once but twice, yet no relief was I vouchsafed. When sated, he lay back upon the cloth by me, his fingers toying to increase the aching need he had brought, his chuckle filled with full satisfaction.

“I knew the fire burned within you,” said he, his other hand holding to my arm to keep me within reach of his fingers. Moaning was I in my need, yet no interest had the male in such. “The fire shall continue to burn, till I see fit to extinguish it,” said he. “Come closer now, wench. I would sample the taste of you. ”

Easily did he pull me to him, so that his teeth and tongue might touch me. No breath had I left in the gasping he produced, and I could not resist the feelings he forced upon me. The moaning would not cease, and when he placed me upon him as he lay upon his back upon the cloth, I attempted to take his reawakened manhood with me, yet he prevented, such with great laughter. The hairy belly of him pressed to mine, he kept me from his maleness with his fists in my hair, disallowing more than the faint touch of its end against me. At first, he allowed me to believe I might attain my goal, watching as I, bound tight in his leather, writhed about upon him, yet had he no intention of allowing me to take him. When the strain grew too great upon him, again was I thrown to the cloth upon my belly, to be used as previous, in a manner which gave pleasure solely to him. At long last was his play done, and when once again he was within his coverings, I could not look upon him. Never had I felt such hate for another, never had I so wished to see a male’s blood paddled at my feet, to be spat in and left for the children of the wild to relieve themselves in. I lay upon my right side upon the thinning cloth, knowing naught save pain, my knees pressed close to my chin, the male’s laughter heavy in my ears.

“Such will have to do us for now, my lellin,” said he from where he stood, buckling on his swordbelt. “Later I shall return to continue with your lessons—and my own pleasure. Let us make certain that you shall not fly from my grasp.”

With such words he fetched further leather with which to bind my ankles, and then he placed a length of it about my throat, the other end of which was knotted to the metal of his sleeping platform. With a final pat was I left so, bound near to choking, to await his return. No slack was there in the leather, no edge was there to cut it upon, no strength had I to fight its confinement. No more was I able to do than listen to Mida’s fury beyond the confines of the room, and ask how I had this time failed her. Truly must her anger with her warrior be great, to allow such a male as Nolthis to possess her. I prayed that the capture was no more than punishment, a matter to be endured till at last it was done. In no other manner would I allow myself to think of it, for I was Hosta, and Midanna. I closed my eyes more tightly and held fast to the memory that I was yet Midanna.

Three further feyd did I pass with Nolthis, each worse than the last. The tears of Mida continued to fall, which brought him quickly to a foul humor. His hand lashed my face harshly when I refused to beg his favor, and little liking had he for my lack of speech to him. Much of the time was I unbound and loudly challenged to try my strength with him, although Mida taught me that my strength was not meant to match a male’s. When I did not try him, he laughed aloud and threw me to the cloth, there to use me in the manner he most preferred. Once, I attempted to reach a weapon, a thing he had taunted me to try. I had no hope of reaching it, yet had the trying been necessary, for much did I wish to send the accursed male to Mida’s chains. When caught, I was beaten with the swordbelt I had nearly had in my hand, a thing which brought such ill to my unhealed back, yet I cared not. As I still wore my life sign about my neck to guard my soul, the thought came that perhaps the male would succeed in ending my life, an action which would free me from his capture. No more than pain unending was there from his touch, and high grew my hatred of all things male.