Bonds of Silver, Bonds of Gold 09: Present (Part 1)

Once within his room, Mister Dion wasted little time in giving the rest of Miss Aura’s work a thorough evaluation. His first order after he shut the door was to undress him completely; the second was to lie on his bed on top of his quilt and wait. After helping me with both of those, he spent several long minutes rummaging in a small chest at the foot of his bed, while I stretched out, watching the lights around me dance, breathing slowly in and out. By the time he was finished with his inspection, I had become quite glad that he had chosen to abuse the sage’s training. He found several things he could fairly say I hadn’t done before, but I was thankfully in no position to comment on them.

The vole’s enthusiasm might have been unflagging, but his flesh eventually did. When he was satisfied with Aura’s artistry, he collapsed onto his bed beside me, one arm around my waist. “You’ll make quite a gift for the baron, Taneh,” he murmured, patting my stomach lightly. Then he shifted, pressing himself to my side as I lay unmoving next to him, breathing slowly in and out, doing my best to focus on the witchlights in my mind. After his exertions, it didn’t take him long to drift into a light sleep, and soon he was snoring gently, tucking his legs up beside him, crossing one over mine, pinning me against the bed as he dozed.

How long I lay beside him, listening to the pulsing of blood in my ears and his whistling snore, I couldn’t tell. The trance state made the passage of time difficult to judge. The sun hadn’t quite reached high noon when I stepped inside Baris Keep, and Mister Dion’s explorations had lasted some time, but aside from that, I had no means of knowing. I could feel the trance state fading on its own as I slowly became aware of my surroundings, like waking from a daydream. The warmth of the vole’s body against mine was cloying, compounded by the tapestries on the walls and the woolen rugs on the floor that trapped the heat inside. Wet and sticky patches dotted my fur, and my hind had begun to grow numb from the envoy putting his weight on my shin. Plus, I was sore in places I had no business hurting.

That last finally drove me to extract myself from under Mister Dion’s clutches and stand. A paw between my legs came back lightly spotted with blood, which didn’t surprise me but still made me worry. Stretching my arms and legs did little to relieve the ache within me, but it did help with the numbness in my hind, and so I did my best to limber up in silence before walking in place. The leash from my collar remained tied to one of the bedposts, but I could move enough to send a fresh wash of pins and needles down my leg. Biting back my hiss of discomfort, I knelt and rubbed at my fur with my pads, stroking it against the grain and then back again, combing it flat with my claws.

“Awake on your own, Taneh?” The voice above and behind me startled me onto my rump. As I scrambled back to my knees and bowed my head, Mister Dion yawned lazily and reached down from the mattress, his clawtips stroking the bases of my ears. “I should be quite cross with you for leaving my bed, you know.”

His voice was light, but it concealed a core of iron that made me shiver. I’d seen how casually callous he could be and no desire to make him mad. “Yes, sir.” I tucked my chin against my chest.

The envoy made a show of stretching and yawned again exaggeratedly, then swung his hinds over the edge of the bed. “Fortunately for you, I’m in a forgiving mood, and any reprimand I could deliver that would be remembered would be noticed later. So, I’m prepared to let your actions slide.”

I squinted my eyes shut at that, grimacing. “Thank you, sir,” I mumbled, trying to feel grateful and failing.

Mister Dion tousled the fur between my ears playfully. “I am nothing if not magnanimous,” he lilted, then lifted one hind and held it in front of my muzzle. “So, wash my pads.”

I blinked, then looked up at him. “Sir?”

The vole looked down at me, his brown eyes placid. “Yes, yes? Is there a problem? Is your tongue dry?”

My ears flushed, but not just with embarrassment. “No, sir,” At that moment, I realized that not only did I loathe Mister Dion, but that I was right in doing so, despite my status as a slave. It made me faintly grateful for Miss Aura’s actions on my last night, if only because it prepared me for what had followed. Miss Aida’s words came back to me, of wishing someone to be for me what I had been for her cook; in that instant, I rejected them. I couldn’t wish anyone into my position, or his.

None of those thoughts, however, took me away from the situation before me. I resolved not to give Dion the satisfaction of seeing me cringe and whimper with each new degradation, and so I parted my lips and slid my muzzle down around his largest toeclaw, caressing the underside with my tongue. His leathery pads tasted of dirt and sweat and stone, musky, bitter and faintly sour, but it wasn’t as if he’d been traipsing through the stables that morning. I suckled at the digit, gliding my tongue along the rough skin, flicking across the cracks and moistening them as best as I could as I worked more of my muzzle around his hind.

Mister Dion’s head rolled back as I worked, and he leaned on one paw, cooing at my attentions. “Good, good, Taneh,” he mumbled, reaching out to stroke between my ears. “Cover it all, nice and clean, such a good slave.” His claws stroked my ears, but I did my best to push those sensations aside, focusing on the pads further down, tongue gliding between them, over the ticklish patches that made him squirm, along the sides and between his toes, dragging squeals of delight out of him as I lavished attention upon the envoy’s hind. Then, even as I finished wetting the first, I reached out for his other leg with my paws, pulling it to my muzzle and diving into that one as well.

“Eager now, are you?” The vole sounded amused, with a twinge of disappointment. “You’re quite the little slut, aren’t you? I almost wish I could keep you for myself, but that would delay things far too much, I’m afraid.” He sighed as I finished washing his hind with my tongue. “Best to keep to the plan.” He hopped down from the bed and untied my leash from the bed, then strode over to a wardrobe behind the door, extracting a corked glass vial and a kerchief. Then he slid a bathrobe around his shoulders and fetched his pants and a thick towel. “Follow.”

Most of those that we passed turned to look, but few spared either of us more than a cursory glance as Mister Dion led me at the end of his lead through the halls of Baris Keep. That alone was enough to make me wonder how many other slaves had come through here. I thought of the rumors to which Aura and Dion had alluded, but I did my best to put any thoughts beyond out of my mind. From time to time, the envoy tugged at my leash, and I picked up my pace as best as I was able, letting such thoughts drift away again.

After some meandering about the halls, Mister Dion brought me to the baths. Once there, he helped me into one of the tubs filled with cool water, whereupon my teeth immediately began to chatter from the chill. The vole chuckled and set down the bag he carried, then held up the vial and cloth. “Hinds up, up, all of them,” he said, motioning for me to lift my arms as well. When I did so, he took one in his paw and dripped sage’s water onto the manacle, rubbing at it with the kerchief until it cracked and fell away, leaving only a brown ring of rust in my fur. He clucked his tongue. “That’s going to take soap to clean,” he grumbled, but he didn’t stop in removing the cuffs. “Scrub at those as best as you can.”

While I rubbed my paws ineffectually against the rust stains at my wrists, the vole grabbed a bar of strongly scented soap and worked a square of rough wool into a lather. It took some work for him to scrape the worst of the stains from my fur, but eventually he pronounced me mostly clean and turned his attention to the other soiled patches he’d left behind earlier. Those, too, faded under the harsh minty scent and his rough scrubbing, and soon he had me standing beside the tub while he rinsed the soap from my fur.

“There,” he lilted with a smile. “The worst of it is done, and the rest will fade in time, like any memory, really.” He grabbed a thick towel and mopped my fur mostly dry, then tossed it into a hamper at the side of the room. “Now, we should back to my quarters to finish getting you ready for your presentation.”