Overview

A ~4k word lezdom submission fantasy story A knight has been captured by her ancestral enemy, imprisoned, tortured, and humiliated. Her captor's cruel laughter echoes in ears every night, and her whipped back aches with every stroke she suffered at her hands. Her noble captor, haughty, arrogant, and cold-eyed, is a woman without mercy in her heart. She can't understand why she loves her chains more than her freedom, and the lick of the lash more than the love of her family. But, crawling on all fours, head bent low as her mistress snaps the whip in her hand, perhaps she doesn't want to... EXCERPT: On some level, there were still objections in her soul. She didn't want to want what she wanted. But she wanted it anyway. She needed it. All her life she had spent burdened with command and control; commanding her surroundings and herself, inside and out; but she finally had a chance to be freed of that burden. To have all independence and autonomy stripped from her soul. She let it in a little at a time, and it felt so good... It made her happy. It was more than not being upset, more than all the comforts in the world she had ever recieved. Being owned made her happy. It made her feel weak; but all her life she had been forced to be strong. It bore down hardships on her; but all her life she had been shielded from hardship. What was softness to a soul if softness is all it ever knew? Lady Yara was strong. Ivie loved that. Not admired it, that would imply some form of personal desire for that virtue; awed by it. Adoring of it. She was a tool, a puppet (Ivie smiled with idle giddiness at that thought) for her Lady's use and pleasure. She was a vessel for Lady Yara's will. At no time did she feel so complete as she did when her only actions were those demanded of her. It was all she wanted. She realized it was all she had ever wanted.