His tone was ice-cold, menacing. Sweet Isaac and the spectacular something had disappeared. She breathed in sharply, pain coursing through her heart.
“I would not do that, Your Majesty. It is my own confusion I am reprimanding.”
A tiny light of hope flickered as the faintest glimmer of last night appeared in Isaac’s eyes, true wonder and magic lurking there. But it disappeared as quickly as it had arrived, leaving her more confused than ever.
“I will ensure you learn all you need to know, Talia, for there will be little talking during your training. All will become clear very soon and your confusion will be alleviated, I promise.”
It sounded more like a threat than a promise. An erotic threat. There was an underlying sensuality to his tone, suggesting all the answers to her questions would be of an erotic nature. Her people connected sexually in an open and joyous manner without any constrictions or restraints. Her sexuality was an instinctive, intimate thing. This training was not natural, but somehow she had to endure it without becoming damaged or disturbed. It would be difficult for her, a woman used to spiritual and sexual freedom. Isaac had helped her adapt so far, his innate humanity flooding through his need for dominance and control. He had threatened to give her to his stable hands if she didn’t obey him, and she had flown away to the spirit realms with her angel hawk to escape the cruelty of his world. But Isaac had rescued her, held her against his chest and comforted her. His hand had rested tenderly on her hair while she existed in two realities at once, using one in order to endure the other. And he had carried her to this bed and reassured her.
It’s alright, Talia, I’ll warm you up. I’ll take care of you, I promise.
After his beautiful words, there had been a wonderful succession of events. Lying in this bed, in his warm arms, she had listened to his soft words of reassurance, but had not allowed herself to return to reality in case it became unbearable again. She had stayed with her angel hawk in the spirit realms, safe and secure. And then Isaac had tipped her over the emotional precipice on which she had been teetering. You need help, Talia. I’m getting help. To her traumatised, confused mind his words had meant only one thing: Isaac was giving her to his stable hands. Something had instinctively told her what she had to do. Her behaviour had been crazed, desperate, but the instant her mouth touched Isaac’s manhood peace had enveloped her, wrapped her up in a protective cocoon where only she and he existed. She had left the spirit realms to return to an enchanting reality that promised a spectacular future for them both. She had been in a Talia/Isaac trance, in a place of peace and safety where nothing could ever hurt her. All that had mattered was the tenderness and warmth she and Isaac shared. She had been stunned when Isaac brought the magic to an end by telling her she didn’t need to pleasure him. Need? She did. For herself, not him. His tenderness and concern had been so affecting she had willingly fallen into his arms and embraced their union, honestly and openly as was the Lokian way. And Isaac had astounded her by just as openly declaring his tender feelings. Everything had felt so natural, so right. He had taken her body with infinite gentleness, his face over hers, watching her reactions, his words soft and reassuring as she murmured incoherently beneath him. There were so many questions still without answers but she had surrendered to him, blindly, trustingly, ignoring the mystery of the unknown between them and luxuriating in the beauty of their bond.
Her mind wandered to their intimacy just a few short moments ago. Isaac’s casual words had stabbed and twisted into her heart.
I will make you do this every day, Talia, whenever and wherever I desire. You belong to me, you will always be my slave.
Those devastating words had confirmed her place, in Isaac’s bed, his captive sex slave. They were the words of an owner and master, not a lover and an equal. Yet just as he…
“Talia? My sweet?”
Not yet, I’m thinking… Just as he was about to destroy her, he had saved her again. He had seen the effect of his words and eased her pain by tenderly stroking her cheek. He had shown her she was still Talia to him, a woman with feelings and needs. Her body had relaxed, accepting the truth of their inexplicable bond. Whatever Isaac said or did, their shared spiritual energy transcended her captivity and his mission to learn about her people. He was powerless against the truth of that.
Powerless against the spirit realms…
“Talia? Please, please come back to me.”
She shook her head and focused on the here and now. Isaac was crouched beside the bed, wearing a beautiful sky blue shirt the colour of his eyes… his worried eyes…
“Are you alright, Your Majesty?”
She stroked his cheekbone, caressing the exquisite bone structure like the work of art it was. He breathed out, slowly, deeply.
“Am I alright? Talia, where did you go? I thought I’d lost you to a Lokian trance again.”
“You’ll never lose me.”
The truth slipped out as it always did. It was the Lokian way.
“Never?”
His smile was enormous, but his eyes guarded by dark shadows.
“Never. I am yours… for as long as you want me.”
Sadness swept over her, but Isaac’s lips brushed against her forehead, banishing it instantly.
“Katrina is here, Talia.”
Katrina had materialised as if she had been standing outside the bedroom door all night, awaiting her king’s summons. Talia hoped that wasn’t the case… both for poor Katrina’s comfort and her own selfish pride. She really did not want to entertain the idea of Katrina overhearing their passion, the joy of their union, their shared climaxes…
Their kiss.
The wonder of the kiss.
She was dazed again, her head spinning. Isaac reverted to being distracted and distant and stared silently out of the window, making it easy for her to leave. She welcomed some time apart from him, hoping she could regain equilibrium and make sense of her jumbled thoughts. Katrina helped her dress in a paper-thin gown of white silk, and then Talia obediently followed her to God knows where. The gown was so light it was transparent, and she felt vulnerable and exposed as they wandered the corridors, the contours of her body visible to anyone they might meet. Yet they saw no one on their journey… Isaac had clearly ensured they were undisturbed. She didn’t know whether to feel special or terrified.
The windowless bathing room was lit only by dozens of tiny candles scattered about the marble shelves. Just like the blue room, it was a world unto itself, a haven for body and spirit, but she could not relax. She was consumed by thoughts of the daunting day ahead, by the unknown between her and Isaac, the man she already unfathomably adored. Her rational mind taunted her. Foolish Talia, it chided, you cannot trust this man, he is your captor, a self-obsessed king driven by power and lust. What finer, tender emotion does he have to offer you? She shook her head firmly and ignored its jeering logic. There was only one way she could cope with her captivity. She had to cling to the intimacy they had shared last night and believe in the truth of their sweet connection. It had burned so brightly and intensely and could do so again regardless of Isaac’s rules. She was sure of that. She had to be. It was all she had. She would nurture the beauty of their shared spiritual energy and would make the magic happen again and again and again.
Somehow…
“Are you happy for us to bathe together, Talia? It will be easier for me to prepare you that way.”
Talia nodded. She was at ease with the naked human body.
“This ritual is much valued by His Majesty, and the silent contemplation will assist you with your mental preparation for the day ahead.”
Talia’s sense of quiet despair intensified despite the warmth and softness of Katrina’s voice. This was a ritual enacted many times before for many other women – she was not special, she was nothing to Isaac, merely a toy. It was a devastating realisation. Katrina was not even permitted to talk with her; they were bound by yet more of Isaac’s rules. She was isolated, existing only for
her king’s pleasure. Shamefully, she was more than a little aroused by that…
The ritual was simplicity itself, consisting of little more than bathing and ensuring there was not even a whisper of hair regrowth anywhere on her body. She tried to empty her mind and relax in the warm, milky water, but it was impossible. The unknown gripped her mind and spirit, and the bath merely delayed it excruciatingly, each second seeming like an hour.
And then finally, Katrina took her on another long walk that ended outside the door she would never forget. The blue room. She was here again. The unknown was about to begin. Katrina still did not speak. She simply nodded at the door, which Talia obediently opened. With one last glance into Katrina’s kind yet distant eyes, she stepped into her unknown.
The Blue Room Revisited
He felt as if he had been waiting for hours. This was ridiculous. Never had it been so difficult for him to retain control, keep the mask of king firmly in place. He was the most powerful man in Cornicunia but inside he was floundering. He had absolutely no idea how to play the game with a woman he passionately adored. This was all new. This was the unknown alright. Talia had been wise in her assessment of the situation. I’m scared of the unknown between us. She was scared. He was fucking terrified. Today was not to be about the pleasure of sexual dominance or even the satisfaction of winning her trust. It was not about his intelligence and strength of character, his ability to psychologically assess Talia’s emotions and needs. These things so revered by him had been rendered useless by one small Lokian… they were no longer the point of the game. Talia had changed the rules. Who was in charge here? She was his captive, his slave, but he was adjusting to her… her needs, her impact on him. Today was all about discovering the truth of his destiny, learning how to communicate with the woman he had waited for so long. It was a momentous thought, and he felt an irritating vulnerability that did not sit well with his power as King. What if he messed this up? It was too important to get wrong and Talia was not a simple, uncomplicated woman. The women of the court were easy to understand. They were euphoric if he blessed them with a kind word and when he decided they should service him sexually there was no restraining their enthusiasm for the erotic task ahead. He shook his head as his mind flitted rapidly over the countless liaisons he had enjoyed over the years, a long succession of assignations, hour upon hour indulging in pleasure with desperately eager women, yearning to please him in any way he desired. It had all been immensely erotic, but ultimately meaningless. Worthless, forgotten as soon as it was done. But it had been his life, and in one night, Talia had changed everything.
And therein lay his problem. Talia had changed everything because she was his destiny and this was testing him as never before. He had to do this right! There was no other option. Talia was his destiny. The blue room had always been his destiny. And now the two would meet and create a wonder he could not even begin to understand. The only thing he was certain of was that this would be a day of profound consequences, but what would they be? Would there be a moment of magical perfection or would their very different natures cause an implosion of the most devastating kind? He had always hated uncertainty and strived to analyse every situation so he could plan and plan again to impose his will on events. His intelligence and courage had won him a reputation as the most fearsome and admirable of kings, but he had a terrible feeling that kind of adulation would not be forthcoming today. All that had gone before would count for nothing. This was just him and Talia.
He was alone in an empty room, the room of his destiny, awaiting the beginning of the rest of his life.
He was fucking terrified.
***********
She trembled as she stepped into the blue room, determined to stare the unknown in the face and confront her future however horrific it might be. Isaac was wearing the sky blue shirt and simple black trousers, barefoot and expectant, waiting for her. The unknown stretched into infinity, the rest of her time on earth to be spent in the blue room with her beautiful captor who had loved her so tenderly last night…
So much had happened since she had last been in this room.
“Take off your clothes.”
She stared at his expressionless eyes, his dominant wide-legged stance. Where was the tender man of last night? Was he lurking behind the steeliness in Isaac’s eyes?
“Take off your clothes, Talia!”
She bit her lip and continued to stare, desperately searching for the spectacular something as her hand moved to the strap of the silken gown.
“Talia, when I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it immediately, procrastination is not acceptable. You are my slave and will obey me instantly at all times. I told you to always keep your eyes lowered and yet you are blatantly staring at me. This is not a good start, I am most disappointed. Whenever you disobey me you will be punished. As this is the first morning of your training I will be lenient and kinder than you deserve; you will go without breakfast today.”
Her heart thumped and did a high dive in her chest. Her head spun. She was hungry and lightheaded after her warm bath – she needed to eat. He had said she could ask permission to speak in such circumstances but something told her it would not be wise to do so now. Isaac’s cold eyes were hard as diamonds, glittering ferociously in the dim light.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she whispered as the horror of her new existence burned deep into her soul.
This was hell.
“And you are still looking into my eyes.”
Was there a glimmer of amusement in his voice?
“Please forgive me, Your Majesty.”
She dropped her head, confusion whirling through it. Was he amused by her defiance? Or had she imagined it? Had Isaac already driven her mad?
“You are still wearing your dress, Talia.”
His voice was a cold, menacing whisper, piercing through the tense silence of the blue room. Her heart was breaking and her fingers trembling as she eased the straps down over her arms. The flimsy gown fell eagerly to the floor, leaving her naked and vulnerable. Isaac’s rules were unbearable – he expected to control her as if she were a marionette, not a Lokian visionary. She could not live like this.
“Good, little visionary, good.”
As soon as she obeyed him, his voice became a caress, its warmth wrapping around her trembling body, bringing new hope for a future not spent entirely in the bowels of hell.
“Are you cold, Talia?”
“No, Your Majesty, but thank you for your concern.”
“A simple no will suffice. If I ask you a question I expect only yes or no as an answer.”
There was amusement in his voice but she took no comfort from it. He was stripping her of all personality, denying any self-expression or choice. She was gripped by a sudden surge of anger and could think only one thing. What is the most terrible thing that can happen? What will be my punishment if I defy him? She was a Lokian visionary, not a toy, not a sex slave to a king. She had to retain herself, keep hold of Talia. And so she had to discover the most terrible thing…
She raised her head to stare defiantly into his shocked eyes.
“What possible pleasure can you derive from this, Your Majesty? You are reducing me to an object, without thoughts or emotions, and that cannot possibly excite a great man like you. If I cannot be free to express myself I would rather be dead.”
Isaac’s eyes hardened. The spectacular something was nowhere to be found – it had deserted her in her hour of need. He stepped forwards, his body taunting her with its masculine power, his face inches from hers. She felt the barely controlled violence emitting from his taut muscles, saw it in his hard, glittering eyes. He wanted to force her to bend to his will, break her with his physical power.
But he didn’t.
Isaac was too good a man to do that.
She was stupid. Ridiculous. She wanted to believe the best of him even now. She still wanted to believe in their shared spiritual energy.
“You will not die, Talia,
but you may soon wish you were dead. You will spend today in solitude and use the time to consider your rules. They are very simple to understand and they are not negotiable. I will not discuss them with you. I am your master, Talia, and you will do as I say. You will not win this battle.”
He plucked her discarded gown from the floor and strode towards the door. She stared helplessly at him.
“You are leaving me here? For how long?”
She no longer cared about the consequences of her behaviour for she had to discover the most terrible thing. She would go down fighting. She would be Talia until the very end however fearsome her punishment might be. Isaac’s eyes bored into her quivering soul, darkening with contempt and fury. That was the most terrible thing…
“For as long as it takes for you to recognise the error of your ways. You have to accept your life has changed, Talia. You belong to me now. If you choose to obey my rules, I will treat you kindly and fairly, but if you persist with your insubordinate behaviour, you will experience only suffering and pain. It is your choice. You are the mistress of your own destiny.”
“No!” All her fear, anger and confusion burst forth in one tiny word, exploding into the blue room and shattering its sacred energy. Blue. The spiritual colour she shared with Isaac, her transcendental tool. Destroyed. Defiled. Just as she had expected it to be. “How dare you say that to me! You have forced me into this intolerable situation. I do not have a choice! I am Talia, Lokian visionary, I am not your slave. I am an intelligent person with needs and feelings, I do not exist for your pleasure. I would rather be left here alone and die from lack of sustenance than subjugate myself to you.”
“That is your choice, Talia. Your wish is my command.”
It was as if last night had never happened. If the beauty they had shared meant anything to him surely he would have relented now? Or was he so obsessed with dominance and power that he couldn’t see her devastation? Isaac had built a wall in his eyes and imprisoned the spectacular something behind it. All she could see there now was dark, twisted desire glinting malevolently. It was terrifying. She wasn’t fighting for control – she was fighting for freedom. Fighting for her right to be Talia. She couldn’t live like this. She was not a submissive woman, willing to do anything for Isaac’s pleasure and lose herself in the process. And that was her stark choice… the death of her body – or the death of her soul.
Talia and Isaac Page 10