Eternal Bondage

Eternal Bondage

By Lucius King

Chapter 2: Whipped


“As you requested, my Lord,” Kayton announced, handing Aravath the long-handled, full-sized whip.

“Have him chained to the wall,” Lord Aravath commanded. He took the whip and began pacing the hall, turning the handle thoughtfully in his hands.

Edwyn resisted but was easily overcome by the three Amagoth warriors that surrounded him and dragged him to one corner of the room.

“Strip him,” Aravath ordered.

Kayton turned to look at the lord, raising an eyebrow. “Everything?”

“Everything from the waist up,” Aravath clarified, his jaw clenching as he imagined the young man completely naked before him. The thought was provocative—too provocative, and he felt a surge of blood warm his groin. No; it wouldn’t do for Edwyn to know that he found him attractive. He didn’t deserve such an honor. He would be whipped, and that would be it.

But the image of doing something a little more had already penetrated his thoughts, and Aravath found it difficult to completely obliterate the scenario that spilled into the private recesses of his mind.

He would be a good fuck. Aravath’s breathing became a little more erratic as this thought pooled to the front of his consciousness. I’d fuck him so hard....

Edwyn was chained to the ringlets on the stone wall that were mounted there for just such a purpose, his arms above his head and his back bared. He could hear Aravath pacing the hall and he focused in on the sound of his boots clipping against the stone floor, trying to still his beating heart.

He still couldn’t believe he had been captured.

And now he was about to be whipped. Raw, sharp-edged fear flooded through him. What was he going to do? Would Aravath really bring his family to the castle, or was that a vacuous threat? Did Aravath know they were in Amagothica, too?

He was furious at himself for agreeing to venture into the lord’s territory. And it was all for mere pleasure—the games at Darpour. How had he allowed himself to be talked into it? He should have known Aravath would be watching the city for bordercrossers. But how had the lord known he was a gatekeeper?

Aravath slowly walked up behind Edwyn, his gaze taking in the young man’s beautifully-sculpted upper body. His back was glorious, his skin flawless. It would be a shame to spoil it with the angry end of a whip; but after all, he was a Welythian. He deserved it.

“I’ll give you another opportunity to cooperate,” he whispered, moving in close behind Edwyn. He could smell the young man’s fear; the air was charged with it. “Speak the incantation, and I’ll spare you the whipping.”

“Never,” Edwyn hissed. He could sense Aravath’s warmth behind him and had a sudden urge to feel him press up against him. Just having this thought made him feel sick—how could he possibly even entertain such a notion? Aravath was the enemy!

“No? Then we’ll proceed. Tell me, Edwyn...have you ever been whipped before?”

It was a ridiculous question, one that Edwyn didn’t bother to answer. Of course he’d never been whipped.

“I think you’ll enjoy it,” the lord continued. “I know I shall.”

“Piss off,” Edwyn grumbled.

Aravath laughed—a low, sensual sound that sent a shiver through the young man.

“I thought you Welythians were clever. You’ve been far overrated, I see. How wise is it, I wonder, to provoke me when I’m standing here holding a whip, about to punish you?”

Edwyn had no answer to this and was furious with himself for being unable to hide his anxiety—he was shaking head to toe.

Aravath noted his trembling with a smile, finding the whole scenario extraordinarily satisfying. He still couldn’t believe that his men had found a gatekeeper. He had expected a few Welythians, of course, since for some reason they couldn’t seem to resist Darpour, especially during the games. But to have an actual gatekeeper in his custody was far more than he’d ever dreamed possible. And now he might actually be able to bring down the famous enchanted gate—the one thing that kept him from exacting his revenge on Welythia.

He would enjoy hearing a Welythian scream.

“Very well, if you have nothing more to say, we’ll begin.”

The lord took a few steps back, rolling his shoulder a few times to loosen his arm. Then he pulled his arm back and let the whip fly. With a sharp snap, the tail slashed into Edwyn’s skin.

Edwyn cried out loudly, completely unprepared for the magnitude of the pain.

“Ah. I think you see I’m serious, now,” Aravath remarked, pausing for a moment before he administered the second strike. Blood was already dripping down the Welythian’s back like tiny paths of crimson tears.

Edwyn closed his eyes and tried to focus his mind around rising above the pain. It was agony—far worse than he had even imagined. He had no resources to deal with it. His magic was restricted to the gate, or at least he’d never explored personal defensive spells. He’d never had to.

The whip burned into his back again. Edwyn opened his mouth and uttered a long, gut-wrenching moan.

Aravath paused for a moment, rolling the handle of the whip between his fingers. “Shall I keep going? Or are you ready to give me what I asked for?”

“I don’t...know anything about the gate,” Edwyn answered. “Please stop.”

The lord sighed with obvious irritation. “If there’s one thing I detest, it’s being lied to. I’ll show you what I think about it.”

With that, Aravath unleashed the whip on him again, putting a little more force into it.

Edwyn screamed, unable to even process the pain. It was unbearable.

“I want that incantation!”

“It won’t do you any good,” Edwyn whispered.

Lord Aravath paused, tilting his head. “What? What do you mean?”

“You...you need all three gatekeepers.”

Aravath frowned. “All three?”

Despite his pain, Edwyn laughed. “You really think we’d be stupid enough to put the security of all Welythia in one person’s hands?”

The lord considered this for a moment. “So you admit you’re one of them.”

“Yes.”

“Why did you lie to me?”

Edwyn laughed again. “You really want me to answer that?”

“I detest being lied to,” the lord murmured, looking away for a moment. Then he turned back to Edwyn, cracking the whip just to watch his body jerk in response. “You’ll tell me who the other gatekeepers are.”

“That won’t do you any good, either,” Edwyn answered. “They’re both back in Welythia.”

At least, he hoped that was the case.

“So you say,” Aravath remarked. “But you could be lying. Perhaps you’re lying about needing all three of you.”

“Why else would there be three gatekeepers?”

Aravath had always wondered this himself, and Edwyn’s assertion that it took all three to unlock the gate actually made sense. “I want their names.”

“I don’t know them. I’ve never even met them.”

“That’s a lie.”

“It’s not,” Edwyn insisted, wincing. His flesh felt raw and exposed. He didn’t think he could take one more strike from the whip. “It’s not a lie. We each work alone. We’re not told who the others are.”

In fact, this was a lie—Edwyn knew exactly who the other gatekeepers were, but he hoped Aravath would believe him.

Kayton stepped forward and whispered something to Lord Aravath.

“Ah.” The lord smiled as a young boy was led into the hall. “We have your brother, Edwyn. Let’s see if he agrees with your story.”