“Your body is the church where Nature asks to be reverenced.”
Marquis de Sade
The young woman sat motionless on the plank floor in the striated light of the moon cascading through the reed window covers. Her nakedness in this strange place left her afraid and unsure of what to do. Only her training and discipline kept her frozen in the cool blue-gray light striking a pattern on her nervous flesh.
Outside, the clear night beckoned the boreal creatures of darkness to sing, to rise, to hunt, or mate. The buzz of insects and croaking tree-frogs blended with the scream of a Whippoorwill. The woman shuddered.
“Be still,” Commanded a harsh alto voice.
The shivering body became an alabaster statue worthy of Venus or Diana; goddesses left over from the time of Romans in the Carpathians Mountain range.
“Ras, my love, can you do it? Asked Moira.
“Yes, it will take time and a lot of rope to make the body suit,” Ras answered.
“Can she be suspended by the suit too?” Moira continued her query as if the model were real stone without feelings or senses.
“No, the suspension would ruin the suit. It’s better to use the traditional knots on the legs, arms, and body. I can develop a suspension plan that will play well with the suit. The girl will be a work of art,” Ras promised.
“That is precisely what her master wants,” Moira replied. We have to be done in three days when the moon is full. We have a special request from the Castle Rặzvan.”
“What do they want?” Ras furrowed his brow while he studied the girl.
“They have selected a new Wolfmaster, the first in 40 years. We are to test her strength and resolve to care for the Rặzvan wolves,” Moira explained.
“Do you know the protocols? I have only heard of them from the old ones. I’ve never participated in such a test,” Raz said with a tone of irritation.
“The mad witch of Rặzvan taught me everything she knew before she died. She was a Wolfmaster before the knots and loneliness took her mind.” Moira replied, her voice now soft and low as if to give reverence to her memory of the witch she had befriended.
“She was not lonely in your hands, Moira.” Ras snapped.
“She was still mad as a rabid fox, Moira said, her voice returning to harshness. That is why I loved her.”
“So it was, Ras said, his voice now guided to the proper tone with his mistress. Back to the girl. Has she had training with the ropes?”
“Her master tells me you will find her a willing and able student. Take her breath away, but don’t harm her soul,” Moira warned.
Moira watched with deep fascination at the hulk of a man, dressed only in balloon pants and a wide sash to hold them up, move toward their student. His tattooed back rippled in the striped light and dark shadows as the lines cascaded down his back.
Ras bent down and placed his hand on the woman’s lower back and whispered in her ear. She looked up into his face and found pleasure there. Moira could see the young rabbit’s eyes soften in Ras’ presence; he submitted her with only a touch and the look of sternness in his eyes.
Moira felt a twinge of jealousy as Ras lifted the model from the floor with two fingers under her chin. She obeyed with a natural gracefulness. Taking her hand in his, Ras led her away to a back room and closed the thick wooden door.
Moira knew with intimate detail how Ras would own her. His creative use of rope and knot was the perfect balance of pleasure and pain. He knew the very second the mind turned from ecstasy to agony and he was there to release the bonds where the flow of blood could render his subject drunk on the high of oxygen and body chemistry. His subject would be ready for his style of love.
Moira felt her tingling arousal distract her from her work. How she wished it was her in that room with Ras. A smile turned up the corners of Moira’s lips, blackened with lipstick to match her kohl eyeshadow framing dark green eyes. Anticipation was a type of foreplay that could kill a person with erotic distractions; she mused to herself.
She looked down at her inks and natural herbs. A new Wolfmaster called for a special ink that would have the appointee in a proper state of mind for the tests. Moira laughed with a wicked sound in her throat. The mad witch’s daughter would join her and Ras in three days. The once in a lifetime ritual would be her most covetous moment in life. The insane witch returns to me in the form of the daughter. Such a soul possession would make me the queen of darkness and ensure my and Ras’ knotted art survived.
Moira heard the Whippoorwill screech again. Ah, no. It was only the girl.