Chronicles of Raan

Chapter 3: Wedding Night of the Mage-King


The wedding passed without a hitch. The crowds lined up for hours on the main processional road to watch Salif ride to the Hall where we would be wedded. My dress was fiery red, the traditional colour of celebration. Red to match the red sky of Raan.

Once the ceremony was over, I was whisked away by my handlers to be prepared for presentation to the Mage King. I was bathed, every hair on my body removed. My hair was brushed and perfumed lotion rubbed into my body. My eyes were delicately enhanced with kohl; rouge applied to my cheeks; oil to my lips. Delicate jewels were placed at my wrists, ankles, neck and ears. I was clothed in the softest of red gossamer silk, soft sandals were tied on my feet. Red, to match the red sky of Raan. Red for love.

Finally, I was judged worthy. My lead handler bade me rise. “Come, my queen. Your husband awaits.”

My heart was thudding nervously. “This is ridiculous…” I chided myself. I wasn’t a virginal maiden, about to be presented to a man in the grip of mind-lust. I was a woman who had trained to be a pleasure slave of Argentia, a woman who had slept in the arms of her beloved the previous night. But the ritual of preparation was designed well, and my palms were damp by the time I had reached the door of Salif’s chambers.

“My queen.” The lead handler bowed to me. She knocked on the door, withdrew.

The door opened. Salif stood there, bare chested, eyeing me without expression. “Come,” he said, standing aside, as I walked into his chambers. He shut the door behind him, made a terse hand movement. I could hear the locks click, a spell of silence take effect. I gulped. The spell ensured that any noise I made would not be heard outside these chambers. It was unnecessary; I could cry out for my life, and no one in Argentia would dare disturb the Mage King. But my nerves were at knife’s edge that he’d thought it necessary to use the spell.

He gestured towards a small door off the main entrance room, I obeyed, walking over, entering the room.

Only to stop in shock at the contents of the room I’d walked into.

Once, I mentioned that my love was two men. Last night, I’d seen the one that was laughing, kind and patient.

Tonight, from the looks of this room, I was going to meet the Mage King of Argentia. The one who was absolute ruler of all he surveyed.

The room was bare; the walls covered from floor to ceiling in mirrors, torch brackets set at intervals, flames blazing. They filled the room with flickering light, light picked up and reflected a million times by the mirrors. At one corner, a cross with leather ties for arms and legs. At another, a flat bed of wood, also with ties so I could be restrained as the Mage King desired. In the center of the room, a steel pole stretched to the ceiling. By the pole, a naked, kneeling girl. Leila.


I looked at her with quick concern. She was my pleasure slave, we were bonded. Her well-being was entrusted to me. But her breathing was even, she was calm.

“Mistress…” she greeted me, her eyes on the floor. In private, we’d dispensed with the formalities of her training, but she would observe the forms in front of the Mage King. Her voice was, as ever, musical. I felt lust rise in me for this beautiful creature, one of the genuine treasures of Argentia.

Salif looked at me, now with a twinkle in his eye. “You do remember the punishment I decided you needed, my Queen? When you used magic against me to bind me to stillness?”

I remembered well. I had almost killed Salif that day.

“My Sorceress Queen. Your magic is sufficient to stop me here. But it would please me immensely if you yield tonight.”

I knelt at my husband’s feet. I met his eyes; I didn’t hide my need from him. I craved both versions of my beloved; the kind patient lover, and the harsh master.

“Mage King. I am yours to command.” My words were fervent. My p-ssy creamed as I spoke; my body exulting in my submissiveness.

“Rise.” Absolute command in his voice. “Disrobe.”

I complied instantly.

“The rules tonight for both of you.” He addressed Leila and me. “You may not speak. You may only moan.”

I inclined my head in submission to his order; out of the corner of my eye, I could see Leila do the same.

A wave of his hand, and we were pushed together, bodies pressed together, our breasts touching, Leila’s soft lips next to mine. I wanted to reach out and kiss her, to taste that sweetness. My nipples hardened. I could feel hers do the same.

Another wave of his hand, and ties bound us together, at the ankle, thighs and waist. Our arms were bound together, and then raised in the air, and we were suspended, by the power of Salif’s magic so that we were on tip-toe, struggling to maintain our footing.

I could feel Leila’s breathing quicken slightly, her lips parted. The lust was visible in her eyes, as my body moved against hers, as I fought to steady myself. My p-ssy was steadily getting wetter, and I hadn’t been touched yet. Except, of course, by the very naked girl tied up against me.

Salif walked over where I could see him. I could see the approval in his eyes at my obedience. He made a gesture with his hand, and a flogger appeared in his hand. I gulped, as I eyed the flogger, and my heart started pounding.

The flogger was red suede. Red, to match the red sky of Raan. Red for love. And now, red for pain.

“I will never hurt you, my love.” Salif spoke in my mind, a caress in his voice. And he raised the flogger, and brought it down on my ass.

I moaned. The stroke had been just hard enough to dance at the edge of pleasure and pain. My trainers would have admired the skill behind this stroke. I swayed away from the flogger, writhing, grinding into Leila’s body.

The strokes continued, falling on me, falling on Leila. We moaned, our voices forming a melody in the flicker of the room. I could see our reflection in the mirrors as we danced, and I couldn’t tell if I was dancing away from Salif, or thrusting my ass out towards him.

The strokes moved higher, now to lash at my upper back, and my breasts were ground into Leila’s. I saw her bite her lips in longing, could see the sheen of sweat on her body. Her breathing was coming in short gasps; I realized mine as well. Salif was building up our arousal with great skill, each stroke causing us to rub against each other; climb higher and higher on the path of arousal.

“Now, my sweet Queen. You will not orgasm without permission.”

I bit my lip to still my whimper of protest. My mind was unshielded; Salif could feel my pout as I fought to comply with this order. I could hear him chuckle as I struggled to obey. My breathing grew short; sweat covered my body. My hands, tied in the air, were clenched; my fingernails biting into my palms.

“Leila.” His voice was amused. “You may come at will.”

Oh, I was going to kill him. That thought was unshielded as well, and as he caught it, Salif threw back his head and laughed.

“Now, now, my sweet Raina, I heard something about you being mine to command, didn’t I?” His voice was chiding, but still amused, the whip swung against my ass again. “You should be thankful I’m not whipping your p-ssy…”

I held my breath, hoping that was an idle threat. If he whipped my p-ssy, I would not be able to hold back the orgasm.

The whipping resumed, its strokes taking us higher and higher. I could feel Leila erupt in orgasm, her body trembling against mine as she came. I could smell her in the air, that sweet mix of jasmine and musk that was the distinctive smell of my pleasure slave. My p-ssy could feel the vibrations of her p-ssy as it quivered in pleasure. My fingernails ground into my palm, drawing blood, as I struggled to hold back the orgasm that was rising in me, threatening to engulf me.

“My Mage King wills this.” The thought came to me, and I struggled harder to stay the deluge. I would please my king.

Unnoticed by me as I struggled to hold back my orgasm, the whipping had stopped. Salif was watching my struggles, utterly expressionless. The minutes passed; I teetered on the edge of an orgasm, holding it back out of sheer will alone. “I would please my king,” I repeated, the words a mantra in my head.

A hand gesture, and the magic responded. Our bodies were lowered slightly, our legs spread apart, bound to two iron rings on the floor. I bit my lip as the cool air found my p-ssy.

“Come for me, my queen.” His voice, commanding, his flogger finding my spread open p-ssy in a sure gesture, and I was exploding in orgasm, stars appearing before me as my awareness narrowed, and nothing remained except for my Mage King, and the body of this girl bound into mine.

I slumped in my bindings, Leila was kissing me softly, her tongue finding mine in a delicate dance as my King watched. I kissed her back, savoring the taste of her sweetness as I recovered from my earth-shattering orgasm.

I could see Salif’s reflection in the mirror as he watched me kiss Leila, a blaze of arousal in his eyes. He let us kiss, watching us with a slight smile as we clung together.

“Enough.” His voice, when he spoke again was mild. He flicked an elegant wrist, and our bindings were loosened.

“Leila, you may rest for the present. I will bathe with my queen now.”

I swallowed. He wasn’t done with us yet.

A gesture, and I led the way in the direction Salif had gestured. I’d never been in his chambers before; he had opted not to use his father’s old chambers, having those razed to the ground. These chambers were newly constructed, no doubt to some very precise specifications.

I entered the bathhouse. Steam rose in swirls from the large pool in the centre of the room; the air was warm.

“Disrobe me.” An order.

I knelt at my husband’s feet, removed the buckle of his pants and helped him step out of his clothing. He took my hand in his, almost the first time he’d touched me that night, led me up the stairs into the water. We sank into the heat together. I moaned, as my muscles complained from being tied up.

My husband was next to me, and his strong hands found my shoulders, and massaged them gently to relieve the stiffness. I sank into his chest, closed my eyes. Right now, this moment of simple contact was what I craved. I turned, kissed him passionately. He was mine.

He kissed me back, his hands in my hair. There was need in both of us; wild, uncaged need. But his control was impeccable. He pushed me away, his eyes glinting. “Not yet, my queen…” he growled. “I’m not yet done with your punishment…”


My body responded to the roughness of his voice. In the water, I could feel my nipples elongate, my p-ssy moisten.

“Wash me.” This time, not an order. The tone in his voice made it clear; this was very much a request.

“Your will, my king.” My words were soft, submissive. Salif didn’t know how I burned inside, how the urge to please him was consuming me. I reached for the washcloth, ran it over his body softly. First, his hard chest, with its sprinkling of hair. His arms, firmly muscled. His hands that wielded so much control over the flogger. I moved the washcloth lower, avoiding his hard cock for the moment, washing his muscular thighs, his calves and his feet.

“You seek to tease me?” A growl from my king.

In response, I held my breath, dipped my head below the water and bent my mouth onto his erect cock. Salif groaned, his hands tightening on my hair under water. I felt a momentary, instinctive fear that I might not be allowed to breathe, but my fear was unwarranted; his hands eased as I moved my mouth over his rigid cock.

I moved my hand to grasp the base of his cock, and slid my mouth up and down his length. I could hear him groan; his thighs clenched in response to my worship of his hardness. I came up for air, then went down under the water again. The bathhouse was lit in dimmest light, and the warmth of the water and my husband’s length in my mouth were acting as potent aphrodisiacs. I felt unexpectedly powerful, utterly female as I was reduced to just the feel of him, my mind empty of all thought other than to give him pleasure.

“Come with me…” Muttered words from Salif. He pulled himself out of the bath; towelled himself briefly; towelled me much more lingeringly, till every nerve of my body was screaming in arousal. He dropped the towel on the floor, and made a gesture. I knelt before him in response, took his cock in my mouth, sucking on him, licking him, running my hands up and down his length.

“Raina…” he muttered, his hands in my hair. His eyes were clenched shut, his hands tight in my hair. I could tell he was close to release; I redoubled my efforts; moving my mouth down the full length of his cock, withdrawing, and moving back down again. His cock was hitting the back of my throat; I could hear him groan in response. My p-ssy gushed at the effect I had on him, his reaction to me.

“Sweet Raina…” he rasped, as he pulled me closer and erupted in orgasm into my throat. I swallowed eagerly, sucking every last bit of his essence, licking him clean.

He bent down, lifted me up. His lips found mine; he kissed me gently, his hunger satiated for the moment. “You please me greatly, my queen...” he murmured into my hair. My heart sang at the love in his voice. We lingered in each other’s arms, reluctant to break the moment. Finally, after a few minutes of silence, Salif drew back, kissing me briefly once more.

“Not done yet, my love.” He looked amused. “Let’s go find Leila, shall we?”

My p-ssy was wet with need; I gazed at Salif with hunger and longing in my eyes. His eyes softened. “Soon, my sweetness. Soon, it’ll just be you and me.”

“But I’m not done punishing you yet.”

I smiled inwardly. I was ready.

Leila must have heard us, because she was once more kneeling at the steel pole. Salif gestured to the wooden bed in the corner, a gesture of absolute command; we moved instantly to obey, standing by the bed.

“My queen. A choice for you. The two of you will lie on this bed; one on top of the other. If you are on top, you will feel the brunt of my whip.” A flogger had reappeared in his hand. “But you are queen, and can order Leila to take your place.”

My sweet Leila, whipped on my account? I rejected that idea instantly.

“I will go on top, Mage King.” My voice was steady.

He smiled at me, the smile not reaching his eyes. “A chivalrous choice, my queen. But probably the wrong one; I judge Leila to crave the pain far more than you.” He was right; Leila needed the pain in ways I didn’t. Salif was perceptive.

He positioned us so that I was lying on top of Leila, my mouth positioned at her p-ssy, her mouth at mine. My legs were spread open, as were hers. There was nowhere to hide.

I gulped. So close to her sweet juices, I couldn’t help myself, my tongue reached out, took an exploratory lick. She tasted delectable; her soft moan a powerful aphrodisiac. I creamed in response.

Crack. I flinched, but the whip had cracked in the air.

“You will both come for me.” His voice was soft, dangerous. “You may not use your hands, just your tongues to pleasure each other. And I will whip you till you both come.”

My Mage King. Were his words supposed to be menacing? I knew him well; I knew him incapable of causing us true harm. My mind had unravelled over grief at Katya’s death; but despite that, I would never forgive myself for doubting him.

The flogger swung. It caught my ass with a sharp flick; little waves of pain coursed through me. “He might not cause you true harm,” I thought to myself ruefully, “but the flogger can still sting.” I bent myself to my task; that of making Leila come.

I could see our reflection in the mirror. Her firm legs, her soft thighs, right now, strained open in obedience to Salif’s command. Her brown p-ssy lips, open to reveal the soft pinkness underneath. The glistening, as the excitement rose in her, as it did in me. I licked her lips delicately, and watched her hips thrust up into my mouth. Sweet Leila.

The flogger swung again, distracting me. Her tongue was dancing in my slit, she knew how to make me come; she sucked in my *oris between her lips, flicking it with her tongue in a movement that was designed to drive me insane. My hips thrust upward as my body mutely begged her to continue. I could hear Salif chuckle in the background, watching my response. The flogger swung again, this time on my upper back, leaving blazing warmth against my skin. I moaned into Leila’s p-ssy; she arched into me in response.

Again and again, the strokes fell, raising me higher, lifting me to a world where pain and pleasure were intermingled, and I had no ability to tell them apart. I could sense the presence of my beloved, watching with dark eyes as we took our pleasure in each other. My body could only feel; my mouth taste the gushing sweetness of the girl under me; my skin on fire as the flogger struck me with unerring skill; the flicks of Leila’s tongue against my *oris, causing me to writhe, to moan, to silently plead for her to keep going.

“Mistress…” a muttered moan from Leila, and I could feel her explode in my mouth, her p-ssy pushing hard against me as she came in shuddering waves. And that was all it took to push me into orgasm as well. I bit my lip as I was engulfed in the tide; my body shaking, my p-ssy quivering, my entire body stiffening as the pleasure overtook me.

Time passed; awareness slowly returned to me. I was still atop Leila; but Salif had stopped whipping us. He moved towards us; a quick nod of dismissal to Leila. He lifted me up in his arms; strode to his bedchambers. Finally, we were alone.

I lay on his bed, and looked at him with glazed eyes, still recovering from the intensity of the orgasm that had ripped through me. Salif smiled back at me. When he spoke, his voice was silken.

“So, my queen. You decreed that I have no pleasure slaves, and I have promised to take you in all the forbidden ways…”

I bit my lip, lowered my eyes. “Your will, Mage King.”

I felt him grab something in his hand; my eyes were drawn to it. A wooden object, clearly designed for my nether passage, its length carved into balls of increasing size. The whole thing must have been a foot long; the largest ball, at the base of the object, was wider than the length of my hand. I gulped, nervously. Even my trainers had never used something so large on me.


“So, Raina, what do you think? Shall we call for a pleasure slave instead?”

I stiffened. No other woman would serve my king. I looked at him, resolve in my eyes. “I am here to serve you, my King,” I said quietly. I lowered my gaze again, as I inwardly chanted the chant of peace; reminding myself that Salif would never truly hurt me.

I heard him chuckle.

“Kneel on the bed; put your head on the pillow; arms on your ass.” The orders were terse. I complied quickly; my p-ssy gushing in response.

“Spread your knees wider.”

I spread my knees as wide as they would go. It appeared that Salif didn’t agree with me; he slapped my inner thighs till I spread them still wider; as wide as he desired.

“I can see you cream for me, my queen. It appears your body desires what I do to it.” An arrogance in his voice, but also, pure, male pride. My heart swelled in love. My beloved.

“Spread your cheeks for me, Raina.”

I swallowed. I would have to hold my cheeks open as he invaded me with that monster. I obeyed, with hesitation.

He had noticed the hesitation. “Not too late to call for a pleasure slave, my love.” His voice was filled with amusement; he knew that I would not yield.

I gritted my teeth, used my hands to open my ass cheeks wider. There would be no pleasure slave, not if I had any say in the matter.

I could feel the oil trickle down my back, feel Salif’s strong fingers massage the oil into my puckered bud. He inserted two fingers in without warning, twisted his fingers in me. I bit my lip; his fingers were sending pleasurable waves through my body.

He added a third. Now, a tiny hint of pain, but his fingers were stroking my p-ssy as well to distract me. He was well trained in the art of pleasure. I moaned softly, as the feelings cascaded over my body.

In the silence, I could hear the drip of oil on the wooden monster. I silently gulped. From the brief glimpse I had of it, the first ball wouldn’t be much larger than Salif’s three fingers, I told myself. I can take that.

I could feel the object at my puckered hole, I forced myself to spread my cheeks; to keep myself wide open. Salif’s hands were exerting steady pressure, pushing, pushing, and then the first ball was in. I groaned, but there was no respite. He was still pushing, I could feel my ass yielding under his steady assault, and now, the second ball was in me as well.

I moaned. The feeling of fullness was overwhelming. I could feel Salif’s hands running over my body, running over my hands, caressing the sides of my breasts, stroking my jaw.

“How does that feel, Raina?”

“I wish only to please you, my lord king,” I replied automatically.

Whap. His hand had smacked my ass, jostling the plug, moving it in me. I moaned.

“Try answering my question, Raina.” His voice was icy.

Too late, I realized I’d triggered one of Salif’s demons. After Katya, he no longer was enamoured by pleasure slaves who were unthinking in their obedience. Katya’s training had held till death; and it had taught him that a training so thorough that the slave would always obey instantly was a training to be feared; constant, unquestioning obedience was a double-edged sword.

I paused; took stock of how I felt. “I feel full…” I said, from my position on the bed.

“Does it hurt?”

I took stock again. “No…” I said, thinking about it. “It was a little painful going in, but now, I just feel full.”

He probed me; checked for himself the truth of my words. He had learned caution after Katya. In a few seconds though, I could feel him touch the object again.

“You can take some more, then.” It wasn’t a question. He pushed again, I did my best to relax my muscles, keep my ass cheeks spread for my king.

I felt stretched, violated, the waves of pain pulsing through me, but the pushing was steady, and now, the third ball was in. I winced. This was probably as large as the largest object I’d learned to take in my training as a pleasure slave. I dreaded the final two balls.

“We will get the final two balls in, my love…” His voice was soft. “But not today. Today, I need you too badly.”

With those words, he plunged his steely length into my wet, waiting p-ssy.

To say I felt full would be an understatement. The balls in my ass; Salif’s cock in my p-ssy; my head on the bed, my arms still holding my ass open; I was completely in the power of my king, and my king was determined to take his pleasure. He pounded into me, hard, fast, as I whimpered into the pillow, lust rising in me. I moved my hips back to meet him, each of his motions provoking a response in me, a fiery response that was determined to be heard. My cheek rubbed against the pillow; staining the white of the linen with the rouge of my cheeks. I was uncaring; reduced to just sensation; the feel of him as he slid in and out of me, the sound of his groans as his cock was stimulated by the balls in my ass; and finally, the tug in my hair, as he came, with a muffled shout into my p-ssy.

He removed the anal invader quickly from my ass, and then we were lying next to each other in bed.

“Was that my punishment, then?” I asked, the faintest challenge in my voice. I left unsaid that I wished him to repeat this, to devise other punishments for me in the future.

But Salif was Mage King, and my mind was unshielded to him. I couldn’t hide my thoughts. He laughed, a rich, life-giving sound, took me in his arms. When he spoke, there was a world of promise in his voice.

“Your will, my queen.”