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The Seduction of Seleste

from the world of the mating season

Slave to You

Chapter 28

Seleste sat wretchedly on the throne beside Ahote's. She felt so stupid and lost and alone. And she was tired - so desperately tired! - of feeling that way. The gold manacles on her wrists and ankles glittered in the candlelight, and feeling their weight, she stared miserably at them. Oh, what would her father say if he could see her now? What would MeRorr say? She knew what Talisa would say - Talisa had tried to warn her! She had fallen prey to loneliness, to charm, to lies and deceit. She was a fool for ever believing a word uttered by Ahote.

Seleste squeezed her eyes shut, hating herself. It was too late and he was too powerful: she was married to him now. She belonged to him, was forced to follow ever in his wake like some serving girl or slave. When he commanded it, she made love to him, sucked him, kissed him, massaged him. It was degrading.

She was like a concubine, kept in dazzling jewels and adornments and used for his pleasure when and how he ordered it. She followed ever after him, her heavy jewels, bracelets, and anklets loud and jingling with her slightest movement, her manacles forcing her hips to sway, her feet to shuffle. Small golden clasps had been placed on her nipples. Seleste hated them. They were heavy and loud and the red tassels flew everywhere when she was forced to jog in the manacles. Their entire purpose was to keep other males from touching her nipples - which, Ahote told her, were a sacred part of her body within the tribe of the plains wolves. Among the plains wolves, a female's breasts were the beginning and the end for a male: it was from a female's breasts that a male was nursed and it was from a female's breasts that a male later derived his pleasure.

Seleste had still protested. The clamps were so heavy and made her sore! She hated herself when she began to cry. Ahote squeezed her breasts and licked her tears away. She whimpered when the clamps pinched her. She was glad when he removed them, but it seemed he only wanted to toy with her nipples. He pinched and squeezed them, then leaned down and rotated them wetly with his tongue. She clutched his head and moaned weakly, wishing she was anywhere but with him, so helpless and so helplessly aroused as his fingers found her clit.

Seleste supposed it could have been worse: she could have been forced to live with Ahote's concubines. Seven wives? What wives? Ahote had never been married a day in his life. But he kept an entire harem, a dozen or so females who lived in an underground hut adjoining his palace. Because Seleste had married Ahote and had been elevated to chieftess, the concubines hated her. The day she wed Ahote, they were to dress her in the ceremonial adornments, and they wasted no opportunity to insult her, push her, and hurt her when fastening on the jewelry.

And poor Talisa. The auburn warrior protested loudly at the wedding, and when it escalated into a physical fight between her and Ahote, the plains chief sent her to live in the harem. Because Talisa continued to fight, the other concubines decided to bind and gag her. For days, Talisa was left on display in the center of the harem, her arms tied above her head to the wall, her naked shapely body on helpless display for the servants to poke, finger, and prod. Her nipples had been laden with golden clamps much like Seleste's, but what really horrified Seleste was the thong that had been slipped up Talisa's plump butt crack. A golden clasp shaped very much like two claws was on the center of the leather thong, and its long spindly fingers held Talisa's pussy lips open wide, displaying her sex and the dark clit that normally would have been hidden in those soft layers of sweet smelling flesh.

Mortified, Seleste had attempted to set Talisa free, but the concubines threatened her, and the one in the lead - a little gray female named Hiamovi - actually put a dagger to Seleste's throat and told her to leave. Frightened and dismayed, Seleste had run back to the room she shared with Ahote, and thinking of Hiamovi's bloodthirsty sneer, she was too frightened to even tell Ahote what was going on in the harem. And she hated herself. She was so dismally frightened of Hiamovi and the concubines that she had left her friend to suffer among them!

"Wake up," present-day Ahote snapped.

Seleste blinked from her reverie and looked around. Wolves were still flitting about the throne room playing the flute. Seleste could see the banquet tables stretching through the room, the glossy meats and platters that rested on them, the flashing teeth of Ahote's merry subjects. Their tails swished as they laughed, lifted goblets, and drank wine. Seleste sat beside Ahote, feeling as if she were back in the summer village attending one of her father's festivals. She closed her eyes and her lips turned down sadly. She had been so happy then. She remembered the last festival as if it'd happened yesterday: she and MeRorr had danced together under the flowered gazebo. She had always been a magnificent dancer. How the summer wolves had gathered round to clap! How the children had laughed and hopped!

"I said open your eyes!" Ahote snarled.

Seleste cried out when Ahote grabbed her by the upper arm and shook her roughly. Her jewelry slapped her, and the tiara nestled in her mane slid down in her eyes. She snatched her arm free and glared at Ahote as she adjusted the tiara. The stupid thing. Only moon wolves wore ridiculous tiaras.

"Glare at me like that again," Ahote warned, "and I'll send you to the harem. You won't get to see the festival. You won't eat either."

"As if I cared!" Seleste snapped. But she knew in her heart that she did care. Desperate to avoid Ahote, she hadn't eaten all day. Meals were the one time she did not have to see him. And the last thing she wanted was to be at the mercy of Hiamovi.

"I threw this festival for you," Ahote snarled, his lip curling in the usual superior way, "to celebrate our marriage, and you thank me by snoring through it?"

"If you call this a marriage," Seleste returned.

"You --!"

Seleste stiffened and watched him. He looked on the verge of shaking her again, but something in him relented. He smoothed his mussed mane and nodded for a startled flute player to carry on. His handsome face spread in a forced smile as he looked upon his dining subjects. His golden eyes reflected the fire as if they were aflame, and dark shadows curved to the hard shape of his biceps and rippling belly. He adjusted the long feathered cape about his neck and the sweet musk of him filled Seleste's nostrils. He was so beautiful. God, she _hated _him.

"If you make me look bad in front of my village," Ahote warned in a low hiss, "I'll make sure you never see the light of day again!"

Seleste swallowed miserably. She had been asking for days for Ahote to let her go outside. She hated living underground by candlelight. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen the sun. She stared at her lap and her fingers clenched on her knees.

"Seleste."

Seleste looked up, fully expecting Ahote to rap out more threats. She was startled when his eyes gazed sadly at her, soft with sympathy. He pinched her chin. "I know you've been through a great deal. And I know I can be difficult at times, but it's only because I care. This is the way it _is _in the plains. You were my conquest and now you are my mate. I took you, much as I took the throne. It's tradition. It denotes strength. And it is what makes me worthy to rule in the eyes of my subjects."

Seleste angrily jerked her chin free. "That's insane!"

"Do not --!" Ahote began and pointed angrily at her. When the others in the hall paused to stare, he lowered his voice and hissed, "Do _not _belittle the customs of my lands! Had I not killed my brothers, they would have killed me. We have been in competition for life. You pity those who sold me into slavery? They knew I was the strongest and they set a trap to be rid of me. I could have let them live, I could have let them fight for you. But then where would you be? Married to one of them instead of me. Be glad I won you and not one of them!"

Seleste looked away. "I hate you!" she whispered. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Ahote's chest heave and his face clouded with misery. She couldn't believe it: he was hurt!

"Perhaps I should have married a concubine and just let you go. Only one of my own could understand the way here. You have no idea how fortunate you are I didn't just send you to the harem like your friend. One of my brothers wouldn't have even asked_ to marry you - one of _them would have forced you up the aisle. You're sitting next to me because you chose it --"

"Stop it," Seleste said. "I don't care!"

"I'll make you care!" Ahote snarled, and startling Seleste, he jerked her around and kissed her hard. He was trembling when he dropped his forehead against hers, and the way he touched his fingers to her cheek was affectionate and full of bitter longing. Tenderly this time, he kissed Seleste again. Seleste closed her eyes as the wolves crowding the throne room cheered.

"Where would you be without me?" Ahote whispered, his lips brushing hers. "I saved you! Here I am, a slave for you - for those beautiful eyes! -- and you don't even care!"

Ahote let her go and looked away again, his chin on his fist, and staring at him, Seleste realized for the first time that he sincerely meant her no harm. He was simply doing what his culture had conditioned him to do: being the fittest, being the strongest, being a survivor. It reminded her a great deal of Meleste and the thought left a sour taste in her mouth.

What was even worse was the fact that Ahote seemed to really care about her. Seleste closed her eyes tight as she realized it. He liked her and wanted desperately for her to like him in return, for her to be grateful for what he had done for her. His anger stemmed from his frustration that she didn't just dislike him but she _hated _him. Wearing the ceremonial jewelry, making love to him each night, bringing him his meals, following him everywhere he went - it was something that any female of the plains would have been more than eager to do. But Ahote had chosen Seleste, and because of this, she was the envy of every female in the village.

Seleste cleared her throat miserably. "Ahote . . ."

Her apologetic tone made his ears prick forward. He looked at her, surprised.

"You're right. I don't understand the customs here. I'm a princess of the summer wolves. Summer wolves don't wear all this jewelry and - and --" She gestured miserably at the golden clamps on her nipples. "And females are treated differently. Where I come from, females have choices. Well, not many choices - but some."

Ahote seemed amused but intrigued. He lifted his brows. "Really now? Females here don't care about choices. They care about making their husbands happy. A worthy husband is clever and strong and well equipped not only to pleasure a female but also to protect her. Choosing a male is the only choice a female of the plains has. It's the only choice she needs. Males take care of the rest." He waved an idle paw and didn't look at her.

Seleste scowled. "So because I married you, all my choices are forfeit?"

Ahote smiled at her as if she was small and amusing. "I almost wish I had told you these things before we were wed, but how was I to know your village was any different?"

Seleste folded her arms. "Maybe the whole point of courting a female is to get to know her?"

Ahote laughed incredulously. "Seleste! How many nights did we sit together and just talk? You could have told me at any time."

"And you could have asked. But you were too busying _lying _to me about everything - I don't even know who I married anymore."

Ahote grinned. "It would take a great deal of genuine effort to get to know me and there was hardly time for that. I was going to have vengeance on my brothers and I was going to have it at once. Had I delayed, I might just be dead. Once they were dead, I would need a chieftess upon my coronation. I wanted that chieftess to be you."

Seleste's breasts heaved. "Did you have to use me to kill them?"

"Yes. Sex is perfect for draining magical energy, you know that by now. They poured all their magic into you, and because of that, they were vulnerable to my magic. Had they been in full power, my little zap wouldn't have so much as singed them."

"So you led us to your village knowing your brothers would rape us!"

Ahote shrugged. "Yes."

"Ugh! You unbelievable bastard --!"

"Keep your voice down--!"

"No!" Seleste turned the other way and folded her arms. A tear escaped over her cheek and she wiped it away with an angry jerk of her wrist. She had trusted Ahote, she had actually come to like him, and he had done this!

"What would you have had me do?" Ahote demanded. His eyes flashed irritably as he watched her with the impatience of a father with a spoilt child. "I had no where else to go. Had I returned alone, they might have taken me to some isolated place and killed me. But I knew my brothers would not pass up the opportunity for sex with two young lovelies. They may have been physically stronger, but my muscle is in my mind."

"Your excuses mean nothing," Seleste said without looking at him.

"Tell me, Seleste," Ahote said darkly. "If the opportunity arouse for you to get even with MeRorr's murderers . . . you would, wouldn't you?"

"That's different!"

Ahote smirked. "How?"

"I wouldn't have used someone I supposedly cared _about to do it! And don't you _dare bring up MeRorr! As if you understood anything about love --!"

"Don't mock my feelings --!"

"What feelings? You haven't any at all. You subjected Talisa and I to degradation and humiliation just so you could --"

"Save my own hide. So you'd rather I'd died at the paws of my brothers?"

"Yes!"

"Argh!" Ahote growled under his breath. "And here I was foolish enough to think you might actually love me enough to just be thankful I was alive --"

Seleste looked at him with wide eyes. "If you think for a _moment _that I love you, that I _ever _loved you --! You lied to me! You lied to me about everything! You told me you had seven wives! Wives!"

Ahote rolled his eyes. "You knew about that days_ _before you married me, and you sure as hell didn't care then. Wives, concubines. Tomatoes, potatoes."

"And you painted this pretty picture about how you were just like me, about how you knew what it was like to be forced to a life of intrigue, betrayal, and lovelessness --!"

"And I meant every word of it!" Ahote snapped, his ears flat. "Do you have any idea _what life is like for a prince of the plains? I've been in direct competition with my brothers since I was _born. The concubines serve me in the hope that I'll give them favors, perhaps make them chieftess, not because they love me! They were given to me by my father_ _that I might pass on my magical talents. But love? Companionship? That has been denied to me. Those are things a prince of the plains must fight for. When I met you I thought . . . I thought I'd found someone worth fighting for."

"And these chains?" Seleste demanded, lifting her manacled wrists.

"You tried to run away! It's a dangerous world out there for a female. Those chains are to make sure you don't do anything foolish," Ahote answered nonchalantly and plucked an appetizer from a tray when it was brought to him. "I honestly thought you'd be happy with me. You were so broken, you'd lost everything. I thought you loved me. Perhaps because I . . . just don't know what love is." He bit the appetizer and stared at the toothpick in his fingers sullenly.

Seleste stared at him incredulously. "The audacity _to think that just because I let you touch me _once - as if I could ever love anyone except K --!" Seleste's words caught in her mouth and she bit her lip.

Ahote looked at her sharply. "Love anyone except . . . .?"

Seleste looked abruptly away. "MeRorr."

Ahote shook his head. "That wasn't an mmm sound I heard roll off those pretty lips just now. You said kk. Someone with a k name." His eyes narrowed. "Who is it? Someone in this court?"

Seleste stared at him. "I've been here a few days. That's not long enough to --"

"Please," hissed Ahote over her. "It didn't take long for you to let me finger you, did it?"

Seleste's face colored up but she said nothing.

"Who have you been fucking behind your husband's back?" Ahote quietly demanded. He studied Seleste with narrowed eyes.

Seleste's lip trembled as she thought of Keme. Her Keme. Who was probably dead. Before she knew what had happened, she had buried her face in her paws and was crying. She heard the music stop, heard the murmuring of Ahote's subjects. Then Ahote's paw was on her shoulder, firm and caressing.

"Hey, hey," Ahote whispered. "Please, don't cry, Seleste. I believe you if you say there's no one else --!"

But there _was _someone else! Seleste cried harder. Every time Ahote touched her, she was thinking of Keme, aching for Keme. Keme was the one good thing that had happened to her during all this madness, all this despair. Her mind kept reaching for him, calling for him and the comfort of his unbelievably strong arms. She remembered his kisses like yesterday, his smell, the taste of his lips, his laughing voice . . .

Ahote pulled Seleste into his arms and held her as she sobbed. "Carry on!" he called to the staring crowds, then Seleste heard him hiss, "Minkopa! Kopa! Take these chains from her! Hurry!"

Seleste lifted her head from Ahote's chest as a servant came with the key to her manacles. The heavy gold chains were quickly taken from her wrists and ankles. She sighed as the tears continued to pour. It felt as if a hundred pounds had been lifted off her! She watched dismally as Ahote, eager to make her tears stop, massaged her wrists and kissed them feverishly. His brows were pressed together, as if he couldn't stand to see her in pain.

"I just wanted to make you happy," he wheedled. "Because you make me so happy. I put these chains on you because I was scared - I was so s-scared you'd leave me. Seleste . . ." He lifted her chin and said earnestly, "You're the one good thing that's ever happened to me."

The sincerity in Ahote's eyes practically made him glow, and gazing back at him, Seleste realized for the first time that Ahote felt for her much the way she felt for Keme.

"I guess. . . ." Ahote said to her paws. He squeezed her fingers. "I guess I'm just bad at showing it. I don't know what to do with you. Nothing makes you happy. It frightens me, that I can't make you happy."

"Oh, Ahote . . ." Seleste looked at him fondly, and she remembered for the first time in days why she had agreed to marry him. She touched the back of her fingers to his cheek and kissed him gently on the lips. When she pulled back, he was gazing at her with a sort of helplessness that made her heart ache.

"I'll do anything you want," he said. "Just ask. To hell with the customs."

"You'll let Talisa out of the harem?"

"Yes!"

"Will you let me stop wearing these nipple clamps?"

"Yes and yes!" Ahote cried, and making Seleste laugh, he took the clamps from her nipples and tossed them absently over his shoulder. "Please . . ." he whispered and dropped his forehead to hers, "stay with me? I couldn't bear it if you left . . ." He massaged her wrists apologetically.

"Yes, Ahote," Seleste whispered fondly. "I'll stay."

She shivered when he kissed her, tenderly and wetly, on the lips. The watching crowds cheered and the festival continued with renewed zeal.

"I had a present for you," Ahote said. He settled back on his throne, watching Seleste with the same happy, glowing eyes.

Seleste's ears pricked forward. "A present?" Her tail stretched behind her throne chair through a hole in its back, and she felt it curl at the tip in anticipation. Her father had always given her presents at festivals like this. In fact, she had told Ahote about her father's festivals in the early days that she had known him. Looking back at him, she realized to what lengths he had gone to make her happy: he'd thrown this festival because he knew she loved them, had provided a present to make her feel at home. His clumsy efforts were endearing. She closed her paw over his and a tingle went through her when his thumb rubbed the back of her paw.

"A chief isn't the only one allowed to have a concubine," Ahote said. "Chieftesses have had sex slaves just as long, perhaps longer - especially if their chief was incapable of producing an heir. For all those nights we argue and you don't want to snuggle with me . . . well, I don't want you to snuggle alone." He gestured to a servant and said aside, "Bring him."

The servant hurried off. Seleste eyes snapped on the curtained doorway on the far side of the room. She could hear scuffling outside the throne room, grunts, laughter. One voice shouted, "He's a wild stud, I'll give him that! I almost envy the chieftess!"

Seleste swallowed hard. Females in the summer village did not have lovers outside their husbands - even the chieftess did not do such a thing. No, Seleste had only heard of such a practice in the moon village, and even there it had been rare. She looked at Ahote's happy face, not knowing what to think. The crowds were hushed now and as anxious as she.

The curtain was thrust aside, and two males entered, a bucking male between them. The two males were huge, and Seleste figured they had to be: their struggling charge seemed strong enough to have thrown them both to the moon. Each time he bucked, they were almost lifted off their feet. But they seemed to be enjoying themselves. The slave grunted and growled around a cloth gag that was tied back in his lustrous mane. His arms were tied behind his back, and he was being wrestled into the room by his bulging biceps. Seleste could see even from this great distance that the male was very muscular and fit. His straining muscles, his flexing thighs, his flashing tail made the females of the festival giggle, fan themselves, and sigh. His penis - deliciously large - was flapping everywhere. The laughing males who dragged him in would sometimes grab his penis to make him roar behind the gag.

"Isn't he magnificent?" Ahote said to Seleste. He watched the slave with narrowed eyes, a fascinated smile hovered around his lips, and she thought he sounded as if he was appraising a prize bull. "I bought him from some wandering wolves. Harmless creatures who like to camp near our lands. They have been known to trade with my village for years. They capture slaves every now and then, bring me new concubines on occasion. I don't always take them, but this one I just couldn't pass up." He squeezed Seleste's fingers and said in a lower voice, "Maybe one day when he's tame, we could share him."

Looking at Ahote, Seleste's heart fluttered and she blushed. But her eyes went back to the muscly male who was being dragged through the room against his will. It was a long way to the throne chairs, and as the slave was pulled past the many banquet tables, the excited murmuring of the crowds grew. Under the press of so many eyes, the slave kept his head down but continued to struggle nonetheless.

"I haven't named him yet," Ahote said when the slave was brought close. "Thought I'd leave that up to you. He's yours, after all."

The slave was brought to the throne chairs at last. Seleste watched with a fluttering heart as he was forced to kneel. He grunted and growled when his knees were kicked from under him. Seleste couldn't take her eyes off his rippling belly and the thick penis that it led to. His quiet phallus lay soft near his hard thigh, thick and dark and very beautiful in shape. Thick with veins, it reached from a curly nest of dark fur and lay there smelling of musky salty sweat. It was a sweet smell. It made Seleste want to suck him.

"Ah," said an amused Ahote and touched the back of his fingers to Seleste's cheek. "He arouses you. Good."

Seleste lowered her eyes and blushed crimson. God, was it that obvious? She squeezed her thighs shut tighter and her tail flashed low behind her throne chair.

"Lift his face," Ahote ordered, "that the chieftess might appraise her present."

"Yes, my chief," said one of the males. He grabbed the slave by the mane and ripped his head back, forcing him to look at Seleste and Ahote.

"Ah!" the slave snarled in pain, but when his eyes found Seleste, he froze in utter shock.

Seleste froze as well. It was Keme.

Ahote chuckled. "My chieftess is lost for words," he said, kissing Seleste's fingers. "Then the present is pleasing to her highness!" He waved his paw at Keme as the crowds murmured their approval. "He will do anything you ask, when you ask. One day when he is tame, he will serve as a personal bodyguard as well. And all those days you feel the need to walk my plains in the sunlight, he will be there, guarding you. Come, Seleste. Have him kiss your feet. It is custom - he is a slave to you."