Kaylon Summer is woken by the pounding on her bedroom door. The young lady sits up as the door is pushed open and her cousin, Andrew, peers in. Kaylon always thought her cousin had an air of cleverness about him, but today he seems subdued, his large pine-green eyes are subdued as he looks at her. “It’s time,” he says quietly.
Kaylon throws back the covers and stands to her feet, wincing as her bare feet land on the cold stone floor of the castle. Like her cousin, she has a slender build,her own deep-set eyes are the color of ivory, her wavy, silky, blue hair hangs over her head, across her shoudlers and down to the middle of her back like the spines of a procupine. She looks down at herself, dressed in a sleeping gown. Normally, she would immediately cross to her chest of drawers and begin dressing, but today there is no point.
Andrew opens the door wider and steps in, letting Nolak in behind him. Kaylon’s maid is slender, the poor dimwitted woman has coarse strawberry-blonde hair, black eyes and a high forehead. She wears a dark green blouse, her best, as she strides in, bearing a heavy basket. She sets it down with a grunt, and rubs at her eyes with the back of her left hand. “I’m sorry, mistress!” she cries out. “I hate to see you go!”
Kaylon draws a deep breath and her eyes meet Andrew’s; the maid’s pessimism is not helping her prepare for the great test she must face today. “Be quiet,” he snaps, turning to Nolak. “And help me prepare your mistress!”
Oh, yes. Kaylon hesitates, staring at Andrew. But there is no point in putting this off. She Turns her back to him and glances over her shoulder at him. he meets her gaze and shrugs. She turns away and draws a deep breath, then grabs her sleeping down and pulls it off over her head.
Her pale skin gleams in the bright morning light streaming in through the large leaded window, the white light from sun and snow running over her tight round ass and long lean legs. Kaylon turns to face her cousin nd her maid, making an effort of will not to cover her body; inevitably, Andrew’s eyes glance over her slender body, her full firm breasts, her narrow waist, and down to the thin tuft of blue hair between her thighs. She blushes a dark red as his gaze lingers there; she had known Andrew her entire life, thought of him as a brother, but this - ! She blew her breath out, and saw it mist in the air before her; she felt her skin form goosebumps, and felt her nipples harden.
Nolak, with the instinctive sense of timing the simple often have, strides between her mistress and Sir Andrew. “Here they are, mistress,” she says, almost plaintively, holding out the two skates she had taken from the basket she bore.
Kaylon glances about, her eyes striking the high-backed chair before her writing desk, situated before the window. “Here,” she says, striding to it. She grabs the heavy wooden chair and pulls it away, turning and sitting sideways in the high-backed chair.
Nolak hurries after her, kneeling by Kaylon’s naked legs, carefully handling the skates: knee-high boots of soft black leather polished to a shine, the long sharp skates capped in leather guards to protect them. Andrew folows, bearing the other item from the basket: a long armbinder made of the same shining black leather, supple, but strong and firm, Kaylon sighs and puts her arms behind her as he walks behind her, linking her hands together to form one fist.
She shivers in the cold air as he slides the supple leather up over her arms, from her hands to her shoulders. He wraps the first buckle across her chest just above her firm breasts, wrapping it up from her left side up over her right shoulder, pulling the end through the buckle there before pulling the other straps the other way, crossing the straps above her breasts, ensuring that she can not escape from the armbinder. Kaylon shivers, not entirely from cold as she hears the second buckle clink as he slides it shut. A sense of helplessness is driven home as she realizes now that she is physically helpless: she can’t use her hands, she can’t use her arms for anything, not even for balance, certainly not to fight.
That, of course, is the point.
Nokal slips the tall skates onto her feet, the supple black leather sliding over her naked skin up to her knees; custom-made by the greatest leatherworker in this northern kingdom, they fit her like a scond skin.
Behind her back, Andrew grabs the laces of the armbinder and begins to pull them tight. Kaylong grunts as the laces pull the leather tight, drawing her elbows together behind. Her shoulders are pulled back, forcing her naked breasts sharply out,. She can feel her breath quicken as her slender body is compressed by the tight bindings her heart hammering in her throat as Andrew pulls the laces tight, then ties them off. He reaches around her shoulders, his firm fingers glidsing over her naked skin to grab at the straps across her chest once more and pull them even tighter. Kaylong grunts, her body trembling with cold and anxt as he re-buckles the straps tight, squeezing her helpless body in its bonds.
The kneeling maiden likewise pulls the laces of her skates tight until the supple leather fits her legs like a second skin. Nokal sits back on her heels and looks up at Kaylon with tears shining in her eyes. She bursts into tears, looking up at her. “Oh, you look so beautiful, mistress!” she sobs, dabbing at her eyes.
Andrew reachesd down, wrapping his arms around Kaylon’s bound body. “Come on, Nokal,” he says. “We must get going!” He straightens up, lifting Kaylon in his arms.
Kaylon gasps as his arms wrap around her naked body, then he lifts her easily, and she looks up into his dark eyes, astonished at the ease with which he holds her, the strength in his long arms. he looks down at her, his eyes glancing past her eyes to run over her full breasts, pressed out by the armbinder, then down between her crossed legs to her womanhood. She flushes again, then he raises his head, turning away toward the door.
Nokal holds it wide open, and Andrew carries her out into the dim castle corridor. kaylon shivers with cold even the warm light of the sun is left behind and he bears her naked through the cold interior of the castle. She finds herself instinctively pressing herself against his chest, her left breast rubbing in his body. She blushes a deep red, but can’t stop herself as he carries her through the cold castle, the ancient dark stone relieved only by the occasional tapestry.
Servants hurry aside as Andrew bears her by, staring at her with a variety of expressions, from a few admiring glances, to fearful looks, and more than a few lecherous leers at her naked body, her bare ass hanging down beneath her, her bare breasts in plain view for all to see. Kaylon tries to ignore those, concentrating on her breath, her heartbeat, trying to remain calm and ready.
That attempt is ended by her aunt, Rhona.
The middle-aged lady stands in the hall , pacing back and forth, ignoring the steward’s attempts to calm her. She has fine, straight brown hair, like Andrew, but hers is gathered in a thick braid. She wears a dress made from made from white, pastel yellow, vivid purple, and silver fabrics. It has a medium-length poofy skirt with a loose waist and strap sleeves. Accented with a belt, Kaylon almost winces at the sight of it; as much as she loves her aunt, the woman does love the expansive dresses. Rhon whirls around as Andrew carries Kaylon in. She looks at her ward with large green eyes so like her son’s, and almost sobs. “Kaylon!” she exclaims. “Are you certain you must do this?”
Kaylon nods her head, a sharp jerky motion. “Yes, dear aunt,” she says. “I must.” Her ivory eyes narrow in anger as she thinks on what she is doing, and why.