Bound at the Ball (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Lea Barrymire

  Moments passed as she lay in the darkness. What were they waiting for? She was already a throbbing pile of need. Perhaps that was another part of the ritual. If she was to endure a long period of arousal, she needed to get a handle on her body. She sucked a deep breath into her lungs and stifled the moan. The air tasted of sin and release, carrying the oil on the steam rising off her bath.

  She was jerked from her thoughts by a large palm being wrapped around her wrist and a rough slide of fabric over her skin. A second hand wrapped around her other wrist, and she fought weakly in their grasp. Washing clothes moved over her, strumming the heat, fanning the flames threatening to burn her from the inside out. The coarse texture of the material scraped across her stomach, skimming down the inside of her thighs. Her body wanted to melt into the caresses, but her mind was screaming to flee.

  Large, rough hands slid down her arms and over her ribs. A male was touching her. In a panic she tried to move, but more hands rested heavily on her arms, holding her with a strength she couldn’t break. Her voice stuck in her throat, the scream trapped by overwhelming need.

  “Don’t struggle. You’re safe with us.” A deep, unfamiliar voice broke through her thoughts. She shook her head in denial. “Shh. I promise no harm will come to you. Relax and let us cleanse you.”

  A nod was all the response she could give. Slowly she was washed. A coarse cloth moved across her sensitive skin. She slowly relaxed into the caresses. Every moment that slid by and nothing but pleasure surged through her body and loosened her muscles, letting her melt into their touches. She bit back the moans of need that threatened to escape with each drag of the material. Every part of her body was rubbed, caressed, but only with the cloth. She ached to have flesh-on-flesh contact with the males. Even as fear and anger bubbled inside, she couldn’t resist the need. The oil was doing its job, robbing her of her good sense and strength. Soon she knew she’d be begging for someone to give her release even as her mind baulked at the lack of control.

  By the time her body had been cleansed, she shook with need. Her breasts were swollen and hot, between her thighs ached and throbbed. She couldn’t keep the gasping sobs from rushing through her lips. Her breaths rasped in and out of her lungs. It no longer mattered that silent men touched her. She hurt with the need to come. She knew her clit was swollen, could feel it nestled between her pussy lips, pulsing. How to ask for relief, though? Tradition would have her waiting, only accepting what the males were willing to give her, but she was so achy. Would they punish her if she asked? Would begging and pleading get them to forgive her and take away the throbbing?

  “Spread your legs, little girl. We’ll make the heat stop for a while.” The male’s deep voice whispered through the cloud of discomfort in Rella’s head. She did as asked, letting her knees fall to the sides, resting against the cool tub walls. Even that small movement caused water to flow across her sensitized skin. She moaned. Heat spiked and a rush of want centered in her pussy.

  More hands skimmed down her belly, pulling an incoherent plea from her lips. Finally she could feel their skin, rough and wonderful. Other hands moved to cup her breasts. A pressure started between her legs, more fingers moved along the inside of her thigh. Someone clasped her nipples and rolled them. The hands on her legs kneaded her flesh, slowly getting closer and closer to the apex. Every nerve in her body centered on those palms, and when they moved to cover her pussy, she sighed with acceptance. Someone was going to help her. Fingertips moving through her folds were rough and thick.

  For a single moment, she tried to resist, to sit up, but a set of large hands held her in the tub by her shoulders. A large palm wrapped around each knee and lifted her legs from the water, forcing her thighs apart. Another set of hands captured her wrists, pulled them back behind her head and held them with gentle restraint. It was too much. Even with the near pain of her arousal she couldn’t handle all the foreign hands touching her and holding her down. Fear forced its way through the fog of need and iced her veins. She tried to scream, but a large hand covered her mouth, trapping the sound inside.

  “Shh, nothing bad will happen to you. Your sisters are right outside the door.” The male whispered in her ear. His breath tickled the hairs along her neck. “I don’t want to place a gag in your mouth. Nod if you understand.”

  Every hand on her body stilled. She groaned at the loss of movement even as she craved to get away. Emotions warred in her head. This obviously was the plan. Her sisters had expected males to attend the ceremony and carry out this torture. Her body knew what it wanted. She could feel her muscles relaxing into the palms even before she responded to the male at her ear. As she mulled over the predicament, the need built, gaining strength as she thought. There was no way out of this. She had to endure. She nodded and groaned when all of the callused hands resumed their ministrations. The palm across her mouth lifted, and she blew out a sigh.

  The hands that had been touching her breasts squeezed her flesh and lightly pinched her distended nipples. Sensations bordering pain flashed through her body. Her breasts felt swollen and tender, but the light pressure was too much. A keen, long and low, escaped her lips. She tried to pull her hands down to brush the hands from her chest but couldn’t move. Molten, liquid heat flooded her body. Each time she tried to free her hands another rush of heaviness grew in her pussy. She knew in the recesses of her brain that she should be panicking, fighting the males that were touching her most private areas, but she needed the fire in her belly quenched.

  “Please,” she whispered, begging whoever touched her. “I hurt. Please help me.”

  All of the hands stilled for a moment. She wiggled in the water, burning with need. She wondered if she wasn’t supposed to ask for help. Was this an endurance ritual? Why hadn’t anyone told her what to expect and what the rules were?

  Her breathing had ratcheted up to short gasps. She couldn’t hear anyone moving over the sound of her own panting breaths and heartbeat. She pulled on her hands again, hoping those fingers holding her had also relaxed. A moan slid through her lips when she once again found her arms trapped. Unable to move at all brought more heat to her mound. Tears started to fill her eyes and were slowly absorbed by the blindfold. Why wouldn’t they help her?

  Just before the male spoke again she felt a warm breath flutter along her neck. “Did you ask for our help, little girl, to stop the pain, or are we hurting you?”

  “Not pain, but something isn’t right with me. I ache so badly I’m going insane,” she whispered. She squirmed in the restraining hands. “Please.”

  “Hmm, so you would like us to take the throbbing away? You want us to touch you until it all stops?”

  She nodded. Hands caressed her skin again. She thrashed her head and moaned. A pair of fingers spread her folds and rubbed against her clit, making her jerk against her restraints. Her muscles froze, straining to get her closer to whatever fingers and palms touched her. Her breasts were hot and heavy. Her nipples were being plucked and rolled until they were tender, but the slight pain seemed to make the throbbing below her belly even worse.

  “In a moment I’m going to give you permission to come. If you’ve been taught in the traditional beliefs, you probably don’t know what that means, but your body will.” The voice was back in her ear, hot and seductive. The sounds this male made had her shivering and goose bumps erupting on her skin. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, press her ear to his chest, and just listen to him talk. “Nod if you understand.”

  She started to nod but then stopped. She did understand, but would that get her punished for admitting she knew? Was that part of this ritual, to determine if she’d gone against the teachings? “I don’t know what you mean.”

  He chuckled, and the sound of it sent shivers through her body. “We will show you, just let us help you.” Then another whisper of breath moved over her cheek. His voice was low and secretive in her ear. “But you know, don’t you, little girl? Do you touch yourself at night when your sisters are in b
ed? Do you push your beautiful fingers deep into your pussy until they’re wet?”

  “Oh, yes.” She moaned her agreement before she could stop herself. She froze for a single moment, waiting to be punished, reprimanded.

  She was surprised when a masculine sigh skated across her skin. “Oh, little girl, you are perfect. We’re going to give you an orgasm far better than anything you’ve had by your own hands. We’re going to be inside you, stroking your channel, touching your clit, tugging on your perfect nipples until you explode. Do you want that?”

  She couldn’t think around the feeling in her body. Every word he said conjured images so hot she felt heat rushing to her pussy. She nodded, the only answer she could give him. Her legs had started shaking, and she could feel her release approaching. His words coupled with the hands touching, pulling, twisting, were pushing her closer to an orgasm so much better than any she’d given herself. Her cunt muscles were clamped down, spasming with wanting. Her skin was hot and tight, tingling from the water and the perfectly coordinated movements of so many palms across her body.

  One of the sets of hands separated her folds and slid deep inside her channel. She gasped and moaned, trying to push her pelvis closer. More fingers circled her clit, increasing in speed and pressure. She could feel the moment she crested the torturous erotic wave. One moment her life was centered on all of those hands, the next she was flying, blowing apart, imploding. She could hear loud pained cries echo through the room as she tried to thrash in their hands. In the back of her mind she knew the sounds were hers, but she was too lost in the feeling to worry.

  Chapter 3

  Before Rella had completely caught her breath, the hands lifted from her, released her wrists and knees. She sank into the water like a boneless lump. A whimper of regret passed her lips. Whatever just happened was one of the best things she’d ever felt. The needy pain had passed as well. She’d experienced orgasms before, but this one had removed her from reality. She could still feel her pussy clenching, rippling contractions that made her want to wiggle anew.

  “We will see each other tomorrow night, little girl. This was the best initiation ceremony I’ve ever performed. You are beautiful.” That male voice was enough to make her melt even further into the water. She felt a slight press of lips to her neck before he was gone. “I will send your sisters to tend to you.”

  “Are you all right?” Lena’s voice came on the heels of the male’s kiss. It was soft and close.

  A small, feminine hand pulled the blindfold from Rella’s eyes. She squinted a few times until her eyes adjusted to the light in the bathing room. She blushed. Her sisters stood around the foot of the tub, staring at her with a mixture of emotions on their faces. The knowledge that multiple, strange males had just been touching her made her gasp. Her mind finally seemed to come back from the orgasmic vacation and to reality. Why hadn’t she fought them? Females were taught from a very young age to never allow a male to touch them, especially in their sexual areas. What had she been thinking? She dropped her face in her hands as shame and embarrassment crashed down on her shoulders.

  “Why did you let them do that to me?” she said from between her fingers.

  “Everyone goes through this, Rella. It wasn’t something we could stop. Tomorrow is your first Unity Festival. Your ceremony has been scheduled for a full year.”

  She turned and glared at Bana. They had known for a year that this was going to happen?

  “You couldn’t warn me? I’m naked, sitting in a bath full of oils that make my body crazy, and you couldn’t explain what was going to happen?” As she spoke she could feel her body heating again.

  Marena stepped forward and looked uncomfortable. “We weren’t allowed to tell you. The males needed to test your receptivity without your knowledge. It’s part of the ritual. I am sorry.”

  “Can I get out, now? The oils are working again and I don’t need anyone to tell me that I’m going to be really uncomfortable really soon.”

  Bana knelt with a huff. “Enough. You had to go through this. We all did, and you will survive it just as we did. The longer you argue, the worse you will feel.”

  Rella nodded sharply, too keyed up to argue. She rose from the bath and took the drying cloth offered to her. She stood, shivering as her sisters emptied the bath and filled it with fresh water. Her body swung from being overheated and throbbing to icy cold with fear. The lack of control over her own desires terrified her. Linax oil was spoken of in whispers, behind cupped hands. Now she understood the fear and uncertainty that others showed when faced with a question about the substance. It robbed the victim of free will, forcing them to an arousal so much stronger than normal, with no way to combat it save release. She shuddered with the memory of the males and their rough hands stoking the flames of her arousal. Her body craved more, wanted to find them and beg to have those hands on her again. Her mind screamed at the weakness she showed.

  After another bath, this time without anything but clean water, Rella found herself standing in her own bedroom. She wasn’t tired, but she couldn’t face her sisters for another moment. They still refused to answer any questions about the ball, about the males that had so intimately touched her, or about the reasoning behind keeping it all secret. They told her to go to sleep and try to forget about it. Not likely while her body hummed with the memory of those hands skimming her skin.

  She groaned while she flopped on her bed. She couldn’t figure out why the males would have done what they did. How could that have anything to do with the ball? Her sisters said it was to determine how receptive she was, but to what? Being held down? Touched? Her face flamed with the memory of her voice reverberating around the room when she’d come.

  Tomorrow she was to wake, fix food for their morning meal and then wait in her room for her ball outfit. At least she didn’t have studies or chores to do, but sitting all day waiting for the ball would be torture. She sighed and rolled over. She needed to get some sleep, even if she knew she’d be dreaming of males and their glorious hands.

  * * * *

  Sabar stood outside his dwelling and breathed deeply. The scent of night invaded his lungs and calmed the raging hard-on he’d been sporting since leaving the Cinder residence. The smell of Linax oil still clung to his skin, but it was the memory of that female’s admission to touching herself and the noises she made as she came that kept his cock at full attention.

  When he’d stood outside the bathing room with the other males, they’d listened to Rella talk to her sisters. Her words and manner screamed of dominance. No, that girl was not a submissive, meek flower. She was strong and brave enough to question the traditions. That strength was something he hadn’t seen in many females. He’d walked into that bathing room with respect already taking root in his mind for her, but the moment his eyes fell on the creamy skin and hard, pink nipples, he’d lost all thought of everything.

  The urge to growl at the other males for touching her had been tough enough, but to be gifted with her words and honest answers, to be given the joy of sending her over the edge into orgasmic bliss was awe-inspiring. He’d wanted to cover her mouth with his so he could drink in her cries.

  He would definitely seek her out at the ball. There was no reason for him to even jockey for position with the other males. He’d won the right to claim a mate many times over. Perhaps he should just go make her his before the ball even started. A plan started formulating. Turning quickly he strode into his home.

  “Tannard?”

  The soft footsteps of his servant announced his arrival. “Yes, master?”

  “I’ve met the female I want to claim as a mate. Could you contact the magistrate and let them know that Rella of the Cinder dwelling will be mine tomorrow after the ball? I will deal with any payments or paperwork tomorrow morning.” He grinned at the surprised look on the older man’s face. “Oh, and prepare for her arrival. I’ll be bringing her home tomorrow after the ball.”

  “Yes, master. I’ll do as you bade.”
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  “Good. I’m going to bed. Please make sure a small meal is prepared for first sunrise. I have a lot to do tomorrow.” Joy and something close to giddiness put a boyish hop to his step. Sabar had much to take care of, but he needed a cold shower and some sleep before he could face the task of taking a mate. He just hoped that she was as excited about it when he explained it to her.

  Chapter 4

  Rella sat, impatiently tapping her foot on the floor of her bedroom. It’d been hours, hours, since she’d gone to her room. She was tired and ill-tempered. Sleep had been hard to find the night before. Thoughts of the males, her release, and everything else that had happened during the cleansing ceremony plagued her thoughts. Each time she tried to close her eyes the memory of rough skin moving over hers brought heat to her pussy and a blush to her cheeks. If she let her mind conjure the male’s voice, she moaned out loud.

  She jerked from her thoughts when she heard footsteps racing up the stairs. Finally. She could deal with the unknown of the evening if she had something to do before they needed to leave.

  Her sisters burst into her room wearing—nothing. She blinked and gawked at their bodies. No, they weren’t completely nude. Each wore a set of intricate metal bands on their wrists and a very thin strip of cloth covering their breasts. Each of them wore metal rings strung together into belts, beautifully tooled pieces of jewelry. From the belts were beaded thongs that were strung between their legs and connected again with the belt at the base of their spines.

  She was dumbstruck as she stood, staring and blushing. She blinked a few times, trying to get over the view of all three sisters covered in close to nothing, standing in her bedroom. Their skin glowed of oil that smelled of spices and made their skin glisten in the late third sun’s light. She’d been raised to find nudity around other women to be acceptable, but it wasn’t what she expected, not at all.