Page 43 of Bound by Love
“Tonight, I want you to write a new fantasy for me.”
Her heart fluttered when she heard his command. Her journal was like a blueprint for Sir, giving him inspiration whenever he wanted to surprise her with a special scene. And, lucky for her, the man wasexceedinglycreative with his interpretation of her words.
“It’s been a while since I’ve written one of these,” she mused as she took the journal from him.
“I enjoy the challenge of them, téa.”
Hearing him calling her by her sub name made Brie feel all warm inside.
He gave Brie a chaste kiss on the forehead. “I look forward to reading it while you lie sleeping in my bed.”
Brie settled in for the evening after feeding Hope. The nurse had taken the baby to monitor her overnight since they both were being released in the morning.
It meant Brie was alone for the first time in the hospital. It would have been depressing, if it hadn’t been for Sir’s assignment.
She got out her beloved journal and picked up the special pen the Submissive Training Center had given her. Sifting through the pages to find the first blank one, Brie opened the book wide, laying it in her lap. She smiled as she stared down at the lines that begged to be filled.
Brie unconsciously nibbled on her pen as she contemplated what fantasy she wanted to see played out. Her recent daydream of not having a safeword had been alluring, so she decided to go with that and a variation of her Warrior Fantasy…
I hear them coming and know we are in trouble. The marauders are without mercy, taking whatever they want—supplies, weapons, food…and women.
I run, knowing my life depends on it, but I am smaller than the others, and my short strides keep me from catching up.
I hear the hard breathing of an approaching horse and the shrill cry of its rider just before my feet become entangled in bindings and I fall hard to the ground. The impact is so great, it knocks the air out of me. I struggle to breathe as the dark shadow of a marauder hovers over me. He grabs my feet, undoing the bindings he has so skillfully wrapped around my ankles with his throw. Before I have time to break away, he forces my wrists together and binds them quickly, dragging me to his horse.
I know if I cannot escape now, I will never see my village again. I scream and thrash as he tries to throw me onto the horse. When I won’t cooperate, he chooses to tie me on the back of the beast like a sack of goods. He jumps onto his horse and heads north, toward the Sheik’s territory.
I try to scream for my father, but the bouncing hindquarters of the beast continuously knocks the wind from me. I leave my home with only muffled cries, watching the village burn down behind me.
My future is lost…
The journey is long, and those of us who have been captured are given little to drink. One of the younger girls dies along the way, but I do not know the cause. We are nothing now. Slaves to the Sheik—without status or names. Forced to work until our dying breath.
I weep in the dark of the night, knowing my life is over before it has really begun.
When we finally arrive, I am confronted by a sea of tents. The sheer number is as amazing as it is horrifying. The Sheik is a very wealthy man.
We are taken off the horses, tied together, and led away. I glance around desperately, hoping to see a kind face in the crowd of strangers. These people are nothing like mine. They are nomads, dressed in expensive robes and turbans, flaunting the wealth they’ve gained off the backs of those they have plundered.
I know the Sheik is a powerful man, feared by all who are unfortunate enough to cross his path. His reputation is the stuff of nightmares. He is ruthless and cruel—terrorizing the land with his merciless bandits.
I think of Dabir and tears come to my eyes as we are presented to a group of men. Dabir will never be my husband, our young love one more casualty of the Sheik’s marauders. In the blink of an eye, I go from having a future with a husband, to the bleakness of being a slave with none.
The men before us appear to be important, based on their ornamental attire. The marauders separate me from the group and bring me before them. The two men talk amongst themselves as they look me over critically. One touches my hair and then nods.
Rather than being returned to the others, I scream in terror as I am dragged away.
A large stranger covers my mouth with his hand, lifting me up over his shoulder to carry me to a nearby tent.
I understand now what is happening to me and thrash in terror. I’ve heard horror stories about young girls being used by the bandits—it is the worst fate imaginable.
I realize now that being made a slave would be a gift compared to this. Although I have been silenced, tears run down my cheeks as I struggle for my life.
Death would be preferable to this…
A woman opens the flap, and I am carried inside. I instantly relax when I see there are only three women standing before me. No men.
Once I stop struggling, the man sets me down and immediately leaves the tent.
