“I just want to see.”
“There’s a reason we don’t see what’s beneath the hood. Nobody wears a long robe like that for fun.”
Lora bit her lip and tilted her head a bit, signaling reluctant agreement. “Ehhh… yeah, I guess so. But you’ve got to be curious.”
Evlin exhaled, indicating the answer. “Hah. Of course I’m curious. I mean, he calls himself “The Lictor.” He wears a shimmering cloak. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him float around the house. He took us on as apprentices without asking any questions. So yeah, you could say I’m curious.”
“Okay, we agree on all but one point - the “he” part.”
Evlin arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean, Lora?”
“I mean I don’t think it’s a “He.” You ever listen to The Lictor’s voice when he speaks? I think it might be a female. Or maybe something else. Like.. like an elemental force or a spirit or something.”
Lora chuckled, running a hand through her short-cropped hair. She had dyed it platinum blonde, and it contrasted vibrantly with her ebony skin.
“Hah hah. Do elementals have genders?”
“Maybe? Ghosts have genders, right?”
“I think the undead have the same sex as when they were alive.”
Lora tightened the knots around Evlin’s ankles. Evlin kicked slightly, testing the bonds and the rope slide free. Lora stared at the knot-book and started again.
“There’s a thought. Maybe the Lictor is deathless. Maybe he’s a lich!”
“Maybe it’s a Lich.”
“No,” said Lora, “It would be a he. Because he was probably a human in life.” Lora’s second knot held a bit better. Evlin wiggled her toes, tugging at the careful bindings and the silk rope.
“Crazy idea,” Evlin said with a slight accent. When she spoke quickly or when she was flustered, it brought out her druidic drawl. “Crazy, totally crazy idea. What if we ask him? It. What if we ask our teacher when they return?”
Lora was staring at the knot-book, but nodded. “I thought about it. But we’ve been wizard’s apprentices for just a month. I’m afraid that if we question our teacher’s methods, it’ll displease her. Or it. Or him. You know what I mean. I dreamt of being a mage since I was a tiny child.”
“I’ve wanted to be a wizard since I was a wee lass too, but shouldn’t we at least ask when he gets home?”
Lora threw the ropes to the ground. “Okay, we’ll ask. We should also ask if he has any other books on knots.”
They had spent nearly an hour trying to work with the ropes. Evlin had volunteered to be bound first, and at first she had been eager. Now, she was chipper but a bit impatient. She wanted to struggle and kick and be heavily wrapped up in biting ropes. Lora was too much of a perfectionist; she kept trying to mimic the stylish and exotic shibari bindings in the back of the book.
Evlin reached behind her head and took off the collar. It was mostly covered by her curly red hair, in any event. “Okay. I say we switch places.”
Lora chuckled. “I’m not sure if I want you dominating me. We’ve got different tastes.”
“It’ll be fun, Lora! We can play Inquisition. C’mon - tied to a stake, packed up with a thick gag, and the inquisitor giving you a thorough “interrogation…” Evlin was practically drooling at the thought. Lora wasn’t quite the “role-playing” type.
---
Another hour passed. Evlin had given up on bondage games for the evening, and was busy copying down a spell’s formula into her spellbook when Lora burst in.
“Didja find something, dearie?” Evlin propped up her head with her hand. She leaned on the desk with a bored expression. Lora was grinning as she gently placed the end of some simple brown rope on the floor of their house.
“It found me, really.” Lora smiled, stepped back, and the rope got to work.
It snaked towards Evlin , but did not slither. The animated rope needed nothing so mundane as friction to move, instead gliding across the floor and up the bed and around Evlin’s ankles on ether and arcane energy. It didn’t need a careful bondage artist to wind around her ankles twice and then twice again, creating a delicate bow that secured her feet and ankles both in place. It was autonomous and fulfilling the earnest wishes of its controller.
Evlin was overjoyed. Lora was not entirely displeased as well. Magic was hard. Though the Lictor had warned them against shortcuts, using a magical device seemed like the perfect solution to their problem. Evlin seemed to agree. The rope was able to magically separate and then reform, forming binds that would have been impossible otherwise.
A careful net-like web wound up Evlin’s bare legs, creating a net-like restraint between her thighs before pulling tight with a jerk. She began to blush, clutching at her face. She felt warm, and her cheeks grew redder. Her smile grew wider. Evlin daintily scooted the chair away from the desk, allowing the rope to perform further.
She grinned as it brought her wrists behind her back. They were wrapped together with unbreakable knots and impossible connections. Lora stared at her fellow apprentice. She noticed that Evlin was biting her lip, trying not to yelp as the bonds grew tighter.
Lora had difficulty keeping her hands off of Evlin. The rope wasn’t yet finished when the apprentice took a seat on her fellow student’s lap. She leaned in close, bringing Evlin’s head tight against her own chest. The rope continued on, binding her to the chair but not interfering with the two students’ intense work.
---
Sleep came naturally after an engaging evening. The rope was possessed by unseen powers, and bound to the will of Lora. It had released some of the restraints from Evlin as in on cue, allowing Lora to gently escort her colleague to the bedroom as the sun went down. The rope further eased up on the Evlin’s form, giving her the room needed to be comfortable as the two lay together in the small bed. One had her arm over the other, a unifying force above a tangled web of brown rope. Ungagged and unperturbed, the two covered themselves with a simple woolen blanket and drifted off to an early slumber. Any passer-by would be forgiven in thinking this to be a bland evening.
Of course, the two knew otherwise, and they experienced fulfilling and pleasant dreams while they slumbered. Bound to Lora’s will, the rope continued its work.
---
Lora woke to the finishing touches of the rope’s enchanted endeavor. Only when it force itself between her lips in an effort to form a cleave gag did she wake. Overnight, the rope had continued its labors with exacting precision. The house had been rearranged - reagents carefully stuffed away and windows locked shut. The bright-haired Lora of course, had been the main focus of the rope’s work - a task which had been exceedingly difficult to achieve without waking her.
But it was successful. Lora looked down at her body and felt grogginess drift away from her mind - replaced with surprise, a modicum of fear, and unbridled desire.
Her hands were bound in front of her with an embellished bow of rope. It was exatly the sort of sumptuous ropework that she so craved. Her ankles were bound in much the same way, with extra bindings at her calves, knees, and thighs.
Lora, being a highly competent mage, wasted no time in rectifying the situation. She knew that Evelyn - still soundly asleep next to her - couldn’t be responsible. She rolled from the bed and landed on the wooden floor with a powerful thud. A clay cup on the nightstand fell over as she fumbled at a drawer, retrieving a rondel dagger and cutting the bindings along her legs in a single swoop.
She was about to do the same to free her arms when the rope repaired itself. Fibers enmeshed end entwined together, becoming stronger than before. Another length of rope swooped the single-edged blade from her hands threw it out an open window.
Evlin sat up. She tilted her head.
“Let me guess,” she said. Lora turned to her, chewing on the length of cord wedged between her teeth. “Rope came alive in the night and tied you up?”
Lora nodded. “Uhhhgh-hhuuh.”
“Well, the enchantment probably won’t last much longer, will it?”
Lora looked down. A pit formed in her stomach. She wasn’t actually sure - she hadn’t done the enchanting. That was the Lictor, who was gone until tomorrow.
And then, Lora turned back to Evlin. Somehow, seeing her friend - her fellow student, her comrade through her journey - smiling. It was the same alluring smile, the same inviting expression that had sent Lora into a teased tizzy the day before. That arousing grin flashed once again.
The nervousness seemed to fall away. Strangely, so did the gag.
“See? Like I said. Probably only a few minutes of energy more. Now you get to enjoy being bound alongside meee.” Lora and Evlin both laughed. Just a few more minutes, she thought, as she climbed back into bed - a bit more difficult with her wrists bound, but ultimately worth it. It was barely dawn, in any event, and another hour of sleep would do them good. Lora pressed her lips against Evlin.
---
When the morning sun woke them again, it was Evlin that first tried to get up. To her surprise, the magical bonds still held. When she shifted, the bonds shifted. Her circulation was never cut off, but she could never wriggle free. Any attempt to undo the knot was an exercise in frustrating futility. Any attempt to force the rope away was worthless.
“Lora.”
Her companion blinked awake.
“Lora, go to the disbinding room.”
“Why?”
“The bonds are still active. Go there, disbind the spell.”
“You’re not enjoying this?” Lora laughed.
“I’ve been wearing these bindings for nearly ten hours, but most of that was me asleep. Either way, I think I’m ready to get back to my studies.”
Lora got to her feet. To her surprise, the ankle bonds held fast.
“I’ll be back in just a moment. We’ll be free in no time.”
Lora hopped out of the room towards the casting chamber.
---
The mid-morning sun beat down on the two. They wouldn’t admit it, but the increase in restraints had coincided with an increase in a certain unspoken stimulation. Lora’s failed attempt to release them had resulted in an increase in bindings and position.
Each of the two apprentice mages sat on simple wooden chairs. Each of them had their dainty hands bound up with multiple layers of restraints; both had found socks forced across their hands and then wrapped with the same rope, creating a simple mitten. Each was heavily bound to the chair at the waist and thighs.
Evlin actually quite liked it. When she shifted, she could hear the rope squeaking and straining against Lora. Clearly, they were bound together - though it wasn’t entirely clear how. After all, both had also been blindfolded. The sashes normally as spellcasting reagants now stole their sight. Still, new sensations - such as ropes tightly harnessing their chests - held sway.
“We just both have to go at once.”
“Obviously.”
“The rope grabbed me and brought me back, but there’s not enough rope in the house to get both of us. Most of it - well, most of it is already keeping us bound.”
“Clearly.”
“So, we both run to the disbinding chamber on the count of three. Once we get inside, the magic should turn off. We can get the blindfolds off and finish up afterwards.
“Certainly.”
“Are you ready?”
“I’m ready to run.”
“Can you remember which way to go?”
“I’ve lived in the Lictor’s tower for months. I know my way around.”
“Okay, on the count of three. Are you ready?”
“I already said yes.”
“One…”
---
Evlin was a bit worried about what their master would say. Or maybe mistress. Or maybe some unknowable third gender. Or maybe it was an “it.” Regardless, she worried about the Lictor’s opinion on their session.
Binding up each other and enjoying some extracurricular was study. This was a bit much. For twenty minutes now, they had been forced together in every sense of the word. Wrapped at discrete and obvious points, they had become one being - a beast with two backs. Their curves were forced to rub and kept in place by strong layers of seemingly endless rope. Evlin was blushing, she knew - her cheeks were bright red from minutes of their breasts ‘squished’ close and the occasional, tantalizing touch of more sensitive spots. She knew that she craved more, but didn’t know if Evelyn felt the same way.
Not that they could discuss it. Their lips touched in a permanent and inescapable kiss. Their tongues had, on more than one occasion, brushed against the other. Such sensations were so deep, so strange, and so intimate! It didnt’ help that their hands had been tightly pressed against their respective partner’s rear end - one hand on each cheek - and held in place with some sort of glue.
They rolled left and right on the fur carpet in the Lictor’s personal quarters. They had never been inside, and any clues were hidden - they spent most of their time with eyes shut or locked in bashful pleasure. Both breathed heavily, eagerly enjoying the distinct aroma of their partner. Half the pleasure of kissing was that unique sensation, a combination of sound, sight, and smell. Sound there was in droves as well, with both of them wriggling and moaning in earnest.
Lora was loving every moment. She didn’t want to push things further - not without permission - but didn’t want to be apart. It was heavenly, even if she was teasing herself rotten. She huffed.
But, just as with Evlin, a creeping dread began to grow. She didn’t know what ills their teacher would visit them. She didn’t know how harshly they’d be punished. It was a dangerous combination. She loved every moment, but in that temporal instant, she wished it would end.
It ended, if only for a time. The ropes disintegrated from her and solvents faded away. She pulled away from Evlin reflexively.
“Oh - not that I wanted it to end-”
“Certainly, but-”
“The knife!”
“The knife! The knife! Go! Go, the - the chamber! Forget the knife!”
As soon as she pulled away, she felt longing to return to those lips and her partner’s scent. The ropes were after her.
Lora dashed to the door and exited the bedroom. On her right, more ropes were animating, exiting the enchanting and disbinding chamber. On her left, the door to the exit. She darted for it, running at full speed despite her indiscretions. She dashed out the door and into the noontide sun. Yelps of acclamation were audible from inside the tower as Evlin cheered.
“Run! Go! Go to the town! It’s only a few minutes away! Go quickly!”
Lora nodded and turned to face the valley. She’d go to the town, talk to the other local mages, and ask for a very discrete individual to help them with a minor mishap.
She took a step, and ruminated for no more than two seconds on Evlin - on her scent, her grin, her gagged mewls.
---
The strips of leather had sewn themselves shut. There was no needle nor thread ; only the split fibers of the rope. That, and the completely mundane bits of leather left around the sanctum. Scraps from the crafting room that had been perfectly innocuous hours ago now helped enclose each apprentice in her own world.
They were aware of the afternoon sun on their bodies, but helpless to do so much as comment on it. Their mouths were thickly packed and covered in bandanas - much the same as their eyes and ears, which had each been ensconced with tiny wads of cotton. The patchwork leather hoods that covered their faces kept it all together - custom fit on the spot and arcing over their faces with all the grace of a masterful leatherworker. Of course, it wasn’t arms nor armor that they wore, but masks of restriction, isolation, and anonymous shame, smooth and recently polished.
The rope had been inventive, using other mundane scraps to create an elaborate series of restraints - long straps from bits of leather, a spreader bar from the curtain-rod, and plenty of careful, winding coils of rope. Lora found herself webbed to the bed, legs spread and face hooded, with each arm comfortably kept locked to her sides under an unyielding harness of enchanted rope and improvised, if mundane restraints.
Evlin found herself in a more compromising position. Her hooded head was squarely placed on Lora’s most intimate and sensitive of spots, between her legs. She could breathe just fine, but the same elements that had drive the two of them into frenzy earlier remained. Evlin’s legs were kept wide open thanks to a spreader bar, and her arms trapped behind her in a boxtie. A thick sheath of cotton - presumably a pillowcase- seemed to ensconce her arms, which were wrapped above and below the decorative layer with the endless reams of rope.
The irony was palpable. The magic had well and truly worn off, and not a moment too soon - unbeknownst to Lora or Evlin, the rope had been preparing to find additional victims and visitors. Of course, this did them no good. The mundane and arcane made no difference. They were stuck. They bucked and moaned and communicated without words, the arousal of the morning and afternoon finally sending Lora over the edge. The sights and sounds and smells (or lack thereof) were just too much. The two of them were stuck, and they were loving it. Lora worked herself to another release, bucking and groaning with reckless abandon. Unaware of the passage of time, the two existed in a hazy existence until teatime when the Lictor returned home.