GEETWO STORIES - PAGE 022
- AND THE WINNER IS ... -
For many years, Asha, the White Witch had been locked in an unrelenting struggle with Kayla, Priestess of the Dark Path, to resolve the question of who was the more powerful. Asha saw herself as the brave defender and rightful ruler of the local human populace, while Kayla considered mere mortals to be her natural servants and therefore to be forced to bend to her will as their Queen.
In their many inconclusive battles of magic … battles made even more bitter by fact that the two were twin sisters … crops had been laid waste, the land ravaged and the people reduced almost to starvation by the potent force of their competing spells, but neither had been able to score a decisive victory.
The war might have continued forever, until the villagers discovered the courage to demand an end to it, vowing that if no solution could be found, they would take up arms against both, even if it cost them their lives.
So it was decided that Asha and Kayla would meet for one final, climactic battle and that whichever emerged as the victor would become unchallenged Queen, with dominion over the land and everything in it ... including the fate of the loser ...
On the appointed day, with the villagers watching from a safe distance, the two female champions met in a wide glade in the forest and the contest began. Lightning blazed and crackled, flame seared the air, thunderbolts burst with ground-shaking explosions as the two fought for supremacy, their magic wands glowing with unearthly light as unimaginable forces were thrown against impenetrable defences for hour after hour, Yet still neither could gain the advantage until, at last, the wands slowly dimmed as their magic became weaker and weaker and was finally exhausted.
It was then, as the two witches confronted each other in the centre of the devastation their enmity had created, that a tall stranger in a long black cloak appeared from the surrounding trees and raised his hand as he walked towards them. Instantly, an unseen force snatched the magic wands from the fingers of the sisters and sent the faintly-glowing devices spinning across the glade and into the raised hand of the stranger.
Asha and Kayla cried out in alarm as the symbols of their power were taken from them, for both knew that without the wand, their magic was gone and that without their magic, they were as weak and vulnerable as the mortals they ruled over.
With a howl of fury, Kayla launched herself towards the stranger in a flying leap, intending to snatch back not only her own wand, but also that of her sister and thereby win the battle to become Queen. In mid-air, half-way to her goal, the air shimmered and invisible hands seized her and held her suspended, her clawing fingers frozen and her mouth wide in a silent scream.
A fraction slower than her sister, Asha, too, had a similar idea, but before she had taken a single step, the air around her shimmered and an unbreakable paralysis gripped her entire body, immobilising and silencing her. The stranger pulled back the cowl of his cloak to reveal a mass of long, white hair above a seamed, deeply-lined face that told of great age and wisdom, then turned to the watching crowd of silent, awe-struck villagers and spoke in a deep, vibrant voice.
“My friends,” he began, “You have suffered greatly at the hands of these two witches, but thanks to your bravery in standing against them, your sufferings are at an end. I am the wizard, Oziran, and I am here to put a stop to the endless bickering and fighting that has cost you all so dearly. Without these magic wands that I hold, these witches can no longer harm you and from now on, your crops will flourish, your cattle will grow fat and your families will prosper without the fear that you have known for so long. As I promise it, so will it be.”
He paused and turned his bright blue eyes on the unmoving figures of the two witches beside him, then gave a small smile.
“It is also my responsibility to decide on a suitable penalty for your tormentors,” he said slowly, “And as they both wished to rule over you as your Queen and the highest in this land, it seems fitting that they should both now become the opposite.”
He clicked his fingers once and to the astonishment of the watchers, the glittering white robes that Asha wore and the gleaming black leather armour favoured by her sister, fell from their bodies to leave them utterly naked. A second click and wide, heavy, seamless iron collars appeared from the air and clamped snugly around the throats of the naked pair, a length of thick chain dangling from a ring on the front of each. A third, and unseen forces pinioned both women’s arms behind their backs, high up between their shoulder-blades as matching cuffs materialised around their wrists and a short chain linked cuffs to collars. A fourth and their ankles were manacled and linked by only a foot of chain. A fifth and their lips were stretched into a wide circle as a large metal ring fixed itself behind their front teeth.
The wizard waved his hand and as Kayla was gently lowered to the ground alongside her sister, a six-foot wooden post sprang from the ground between them and the ends of the chains dangling from their collars rose to hook over a heavy ring, effectively tethering them as the paralysis released its grip on their bodies and minds.
Kayla and Asha shook their heads dazedly, clearly not understanding what had happened to them, but as their chains rattled and they felt the implacable grip of heavy iron on their limbs and throat, each gave a wordless scream of dreadful anguish and fought vainly to escape as the awful reality of her nudity and captivity became all too obvious. Ignoring them, the wizard spoke again.
“My work here is done, my friends, and so I will wish you well and leave you to do as you will with your former rulers and would-be Queens.”
He lifted the cowl of his cloak, then stopped as a voice shouted.
“Give them rings. Like our cows!” and others joined in.
“Yes. Ring them!” rising to a swelling roar of, “Ring them! Ring them! Ring them! Ring them!”
He smiled in acquiescence and spoke once more.
“Very well. As you wish!”and as he turned to Asha and Kayla and lifted his hand, the two naked, heavily-chained witches screamed in terror and shook their heads frantically from side-to-side, their eyes pleading to be spared.
“It would seem that your people have little love for either of you,” he told them firmly, “and would prefer that, instead of being their Queen, each of you will serve them in other ways. Ways better suited to your present condition and state of dress ... as their slaves.”
His blue eyes swept over their firm, high breasts, softly-rounded bellies and long, slender legs and at his nod of appreciation, alarm and fear and horrified understanding chased across their gagged faces as his words struck home. His fingers clicked for the last time and the women whimpered when thick, shiny rings materialised through the delicate flesh of their nipples, labia and noses. Their shame and misery was made complete by the small, shiny bell that dangled from the tip of each jutting breast and chimed musically at its smallest movement. The wizard chuckled.
“I should apologise for the bells.” he smiled, “Just a whimsical little idea of mine. But now, I really must be leaving.” And with a theatrical swirl of his cloak and a puff of green smoke, he vanished.
Asha stared at the spot where he had disappeared, then met the wide, frightened eyes of her sister and, as each recognised the full horror of what had already occurred, and what must inevitably follow when the villagers overcame their caution and came to collect them both, they tugged and twisted and jerked at the manacles and chains that confined them, all enmity forgotten in the struggle to avoid the terrible fate that they would share if they failed to escape.
A witch without her magic wand is nothing more than a soft, weak female and the bonds they now wore had been fashioned by the wizard and could not be loosened or slipped. When the villagers gathered around the post, drawn by the sound of tinkling bells. They found Asha and Kayla still perfectly secured, their naked bodies hopelessly vulnerable and their faces wet from the tears that trickling down their gagged cheeks, to glisten on their offered breasts and bellies. The two once-powerful witches who had dreamed of becoming their Queen, were now but collared slaves, and would be treated as such.
- EPILOGUE -
A hundred years had passed since Asha and Kayla’s final battle and the village had prospered exactly as the wizard promised it would, all of its people healthy and happy as they worked the fields and tended their crops and animals.
The years had had little physical effect on witches and after a century, Asha and Kayla had aged not at all, their bodies still perfect and faces those of beautiful young women, but the years also mean nothing to magic chains and manacles which had bound them so long ago. They were still as strong and effective as on the first day of their captivity.
For a hundred years, they had been forced serve the village as slaves, in the homes of their human Masters and Mistresses, in the fields as workers and beasts of burden and in the beds of anyone, man or woman, young or old, kindly or cruel, who wished to avail themselves of their abundant charms. At first, they had tried to resist, but for chained, hobbled slaves, in a village full of men and women with long memories, strong arms and a surprising amount of ingenuity in the employment all manner of domestic and agricultural tools to discipline and punish their recalcitrance, such attempts were not only unwise, but also painful enough to be extremely effective.
Unwilling to subject themselves to more of the same, the sisters then tried to escape, only to discover that the wizard’s spell could not be overcome so easily. Whichever direction they tried, by road, across the fields and even by way of the small river that ran through the valley, they always ended up back in the village, to be greeted by mocking laughter and yet more stinging punishment for their efforts.
Within a year, both gave up the futile struggle and accepted their fate, and as the seasons rolled by and their original captors died and were replaced by succeeding generations who had been handed-down the story of their battle and subsequent enslavement, Asha and Kayla served these new Masters and Mistresses just as they had served their parents and grand-parents.
Until, one hot, bright summer’s day, a tall stranger in a long, black cloak, came to the village and introduced himself as Oziran, the wizard. With the entire village assembled, Asha and Kayla were brought forward and as they stood before him in their chains and with their heads bowed as required of slaves in the presence of any Master, he told them that their penalty was complete and that, if they wished, he would release them from the spell.
“But be warned!” he cautioned firmly, “I can only undo that part of the spell which will remove your chains and collars and gags. So think well and choose wisely, for this can be a dangerous world for two such beauties as you.”
His sage advice fell on deaf ears, for even after a hundred years of slavery and enforced obedience, the arrogant presumption of their natural superiority over mere mortals that had led Asha and Kayla to battle for the Crown, still lay so close to the surface. At the prospect of freedom, neither gave sufficient thought to his words, their minds filled with images of past glories that would surely be theirs once more when they resumed their rightful dominion over their human subjects.
Time enough when they were free to seek a way to extract revenge on Oziran and the villagers for subjecting them to long years of humiliation and servitude. When the wizard asked for their decisions, both women choose to be freed. Oziran clicked his fingers twice and their manacles and gags vanished into thin air, but the rings transfixing their noses, labia and belled nipples, did not.
Their angry remonstrations were met with the flat response that they had been told quite clearly that only their gags, chains and collars would be removed and that it was hardly his fault if they had misunderstood. There was nothing Asha and Kayla could do but glare at him and accept that the only-too-evident symbols of their time as slaves would have to remain humiliatingly displayed in their flesh. Furious at what they felt to be a cruel trick they turned on the gathered villagers, demanding the finest clothes, shoes, wine and food that they possessed and reminding them that they were their natural superiors and would, inevitably, soon regain their rightful power over them.
Their arrogance brought a resentful growl from the crowd of villagers and when, in their pride and hauteur, the women impatiently repeated their demands, the village’s headman stepped forward.
“No!” he said defiantly, “We will give you nothing. Neither clothing, nor food, nor even water. A hundred years ago, you ruled over our forefathers and brought them only war and famine and misery. We will not help you to bring those times back. You chose freedom and now you have it, so go! Leave this valley and never return.”
The two sisters paled when they heard that they were to be exiled, then turned to Oziran.
“Help us, wizard.” they implored. “We must have food and water to sustain us and clothes to warm us.”
He was unmoved.
“Then you must buy what you need with what you have.” he told them and before they could ask what he meant, he disappeared, leaving only a puff of green smoke to mark his departure.
With no other option left to them, Asha and Kayla were reduced to begging.
“Please, headman, have mercy on us.” they addressed him humbly, “We ask only for a little food and water and something to cover us. Then we will leave your lands and never return. Please, we beg for your help.”
The headman smiled coldly.
“You ask our help and yet you do not offer to pay.” he replied. “That is not the way of free men and women, but of beggars and slaves.”
“But we cannot pay!” his supplicants replied bitterly, “We have nothing, as you well know, for as your slaves, we were permitted nothing.”
“That is true." he nodded, "But is it not also true that as slaves, you were given food and water, clothing to cover your bodies and even warmth and shelter from the chill of winter? And did you not pay for these things with your work in the fields and with your service in our homes and in our beds?”
The two women stared at him anxiously, their cheeks reddening in shame, then he snapped.
“Well? Do I speak the truth?”
They nodded their unwilling agreement.
“So it seems that you do have the means to pay for what you ask us to give you for nothing,” the headman said firmly, “and the wizard's wise and just counsel shall be followed.”
Asha and Kayla gasped and stammered.
“But ... But ... we are free ...”
“Free to starve,” he retorted harshly, “or to freeze in the ice and snow of the mountains. Free to leave and fall prey to the teeth and claws of wild animals, or into the hands of cut-throats and thieves,” he paused as the women shuddered, then continued more gently, “or free to earn what you need, here in the safety of the village.”
“As ... As ... sl-slaves?” the question came in a low, soft moan of despair and as the headman nodded, “How ... How ... long?”
He pondered for a moment.
“One month for food, another for water and two for clothes. Only then, when you have paid in full for everything you have received, will you be freed.”
It was a hard bargain, but the sisters knew they had no choice if they were to survive their exile and realise their dreams of power and glory.
“We accept.” the deal was struck, the terms accepted and as Asha and Kayla became slaves once more and sank to their knees with their heads bowed, the headman called for the village blacksmith and instructed him to set to work.
That evening, the village gathered a second time to witness, as their forefathers had, the chaining of two enslaved females. This time, though, there was no need for the magic that had defeated and bound Asha and Kayla so many years before, for their wands had not been returned. Without them, witches are no stronger or more powerful than any mere human female ... and no more able to break free of the manacles that the headman required them to wear until they had honoured the terms of their bargain.
The sound of the blacksmith’s mighty blows echoed through the night as tight and heavy bands of iron were riveted about the throats and wrists and elbows and ankles of the two cowering sisters. When their arms were restrained in a single, painfully-stressed column behind their backs and the unrelenting tension forced their breasts and belled nipples to jut provocatively in bondage that was even more stringent and secure than that imposed on them by the wizard, their horrified protests and pleas for release told of their growing fear that something was horribly amiss.
With short, thick chains linking their ankles and another from their wrists to the centre of that chain, limiting their steps to little more than inches and preventing almost any movement of their arms, they could neither flee nor resist, but then a long, thin chain was attached to their nose rings to serve as a convenient leash and each understood how utterly defenceless she now was and how easily even the smallest, weakest child in the village could capture and control either of them and make them into a helplessly obedient plaything for their amusement, simply by seizing and tugging on the dangling lead, their eyes met and filled with fearful dread.
The clanging of the blacksmith’s hammer died away into silence and as the headman walked towards them, the frightened captives fell to their knees and bowed their heads in submission.
“Lift your heads!” he ordered and as they raised their eyes to his, he nodded in satisfaction and took their nose-leashes in his hand, “You are slaves, are you not?”
“Yes, Master. We are slaves.” the sisters whispered in unison, then cried, “We are slaves, Master!” when he tweaked the chain warningly and commanded them to speak up so that all the village might hear.
“Of your own free will, in return for food and water?”
“A bargain that you will honour with your bodies?”
A red glow flushed their cheeks.
“Yes, Master. With our b…bodies.”
“Then it is agreed!” he said flatly, “You will serve as full slaves until our bargain is complete.”
“Yes, Master. We will serve as full slaves for the four months.”
He gazed down at them and his forehead wrinkled.
“Four months?” he said, as if puzzled by the words, then his brow cleared and he gave a deep chuckle, “Ah, yes, I understand. In four months you will have earned the supplies you need to leave. But what of the food and water you will have consumed during those four months? That, too, will have to be paid for, of course.”
Asha and Kayla gaped at him, their mouths falling open as his lips curved into a cold, cruel grin.
“Surely you did not think we would simply give you that food for nothing? You must earn it as we and our wives and daughters earn ours. Day by day and week by week. A day’s food for a day’s work.”
For ten long seconds there was silence as the two kneeling slaves struggled to come to terms with the stunning impact of his simple words. Until, as the implications crystallised in their reeling brains, the sisters shrieked in fury and fought madly against their bonds, their eyes wild with anguish as they realised the trap into which they had fallen.
“Noooo! It cannot be! You have tricked us. We trusted you and made a bargain! You have cheated us and we will not honour the agreement. Release us, or we will ... we will ... kill you ... destroy your village ... scatter your people to the ends of the earth!”
The headman simply smiled, ignoring their empty threats, then the terrified, vainly-struggling sisters whimpered and sobbed in misery and despair, knowing that they would never escape the iron which confined their slender limbs, nor the abject subjugation to which their thoughtless folly had condemned them.
They must have food and water, but to earn it, they must serve the villagers as slaves, their bodies and the pleasures and delights contained within their heavily-chained and enticingly-offered forms, the only currency available to them ... and even that only exchangeable on a daily basis ...
Devastated by the knowledge that their “bargain” with the headman could never be completed and that their dreams of freedom and power were at an end, Asha and Kayla shuddered helplessly as they were gagged with thick metal bars drawn deep between their teeth by buckled leather straps encircling their heads. When they had been silenced, the headman tugged on the leash to their noses, forcing them to rise to their feet.
Paraded before the watching villagers, with their out thrust breasts, mercilessly-bound arms and cruelly-restricted steps causing much amusement in the crowd, the two sisters could only weep in fear and humiliation while the headman was applauded and showered with praise for his cleverness and the skill with which he had deceived them into accepting his “bargain.”
At last, the villagers grew tired of mocking and jeering what were, after all, only a pair of slaves who could easily be tormented, or whipped, or taken whenever they pleased. The headman led his sobbing captives to his home, there to begin their infinite service as chained, obedient and utterly-helpless slaves to generation after generation of Masters and Mistresses. Each would succeed the one before in an endless stream and each, in turn, would discover the limitless pleasure to be found in the training, disciplining and subjugation of the ever-young, ever-beautiful faces and bodies of the two enslaved sisters.
To the very end of time ...