The Tamest

Warning: This story takes place in a setting where females have few rights, and contains some descriptions of violence against women. The story is meant to be erotic, not political, and the hero and heroine are not an abusive couple. Nonetheless, if you feel you would not be able to take the story in the erotic, non-political spirit in which it was intended, read something else.

******

The wedding was over, and Yasmin, the bride, was not looking forward to what came after. She was ashamed to feel that way, of course, as all the women in her family had told her it was an honor and a joy to be married. But as she lay curled up on the bed, completely cloaked in her robes and veils, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were just pretending. It seemed to her that her mother had barely known her father. He was gone most of the day. He would take her brother with him and go to the school or the library or the market and leave her and her mother at home. Her mother would dote over her obsessively, making sure she was a marriageable lady...of course, this meant that Yasmin had the difficult task of hiding her many books from her family. Her mother and father would have considered it a great betrayal, after all they did to make her marriageable, for her to throw it all away by learning to read. Literate women, it was thought in her country, had too much imagination to be faithful.

So Yasmin would read her books and indulge her imaginations when no one was looking. By the time she was 18, she had indulged in everything from the intense mental disciplines of logic and mathematics, to the wild and daring adventures of fantasy. And when others were around, she kept it hidden. She imagined it was all locked in a box in her mind that she couldn't access unless she was alone. Her mother never suspected that she could read, but she had always considered Yasmin's restlessness to be a slap in the face...was the life that her mother led not good enough for Yasmin? Yasmin's mother's worst fear was that Yasmin would become disobedient. A disobedient woman was the least marriageable of all.

When Yasmin was 18, Sanman came along. He was a man of twenty nine from her father's hometown, but he had already travelled much of the world. Those of her town regarded him with both admiration for his learning, and suspicion for his worldliness, but he had a way of putting people at ease until their admiration overwhelmed their suspicion. He certainly had on the day he came to Yasmin's father, and said that he would marry Yasmin, and make her the most obedient woman in the land. Yasmin's parents had not believed it possible. They said that if he could make Yasmin the most obedient wife, he would receive a dowry equal to that of Yasmin's mother and aunt combined.

Yasmin quivered at the memory. She thought of all the horrible things that she had seen men do to make their wives obey...once, she had seen a woman slapped in the middle of the marketplace for failing to walk three steps behind her husband. She wouldn't submit to that treatment if she could help it, she thought. But could she help it? Certainly not now: Yasmin was still shackled with two sets of chains, one connecting her hands, and the other connecting her feet so that she could only take tiny steps as her groom had led her down the aisle. And of course, even if her groom was gentle, there was always the matter of losing her virginity. It would be terribly painful when a man broke the stitches of the operation she'd had, the one that marked her coming into womanhood. She had been told all her life not to fear that. That was as it should be. If he was the sort of man that a woman should want, he would cause pain, and it would all be worth it.

The door opened. It was Sanman, her groom. She wished she could go back to the part where he was walking her down the aisle. Every step she had taken down the aisle had been a step closer to this, but strangely, she hadn't felt as afraid. He was a handsome man, after all, and he had a way of walking which seemed victorious, as if he had just claimed a great prize. The guests had seemed to be at ease watching him, and to some small extent, the reaction had rubbed off on her too. Looking at him now, Yasmin noticed that he had changed outfits since the wedding. He was dressed in a Western-style suit which emphasized his lean frame and defined shoulders. She could see the key to her chains in one of the vest pockets. He looked her straight in the eyes. His were a warm, golden-brown, like honey.

"Don't be afraid," he said.

Yasmin gulped. Given how hard she'd been trying to hide her fear around him, the fact that he knew wasn't particularly reassuring.

He walked over to her and felt over her robes for her arm. He stroked firmly up and down the arm, feeling the tension in it.

"Not yet..." Yasmin whimpered.

Sanman looked into her eyes "Do you trust me?" he asked.

No answer.

"I can tell that you're nervous. I can see it in every muscle of your body. I'm going to disrobe you now, but I won't do the thing you fear yet. I have much to talk about first...I will tell you about my travels...and about the ways I've found to make a woman perfectly relaxed and obedient."

He pulled off her head covering, and her dark curls spilled on to the bed. Then, he took a dagger from a back pocket and began cutting her robes. She gulped again as she felt the cold metal, and the air as her robes fell off her body. She could feel her nipples hardening in response to their exposure, and blushed. She was so cold...was it just because of her nakedness, or was it her fear too?

Sanman, for his part, seemed to be drinking in her body with his eyes. She could tell from the appraising look that he had seen others in his travels. She wondered if he liked the view...she was not as plump as some of the richer women, but her parents could afford to feed her well enough that her slim body had a bit of softness to it. Her breasts were not enormous, but were surprisingly full for her small frame, and her supple thighs and buttocks tapered down to a small waist, but she disliked her skinny calves and arms. She also wished she were lighter, as her skin was very dark.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

"That would be telling," he smiled.

"Maybe I don't care," she said, surprising herself with her defiance. Then she flinched...what would he do, seeing her not being perfectly obedient?

"Let's not concern ourselves with fictions," he said evenly, "You care, otherwise you wouldn't have asked."

"And..."

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't seem to be able to determine what you mean."

He stared her straight in the eyes, as if he was staring into her soul.

"I mean...what do you think...looking at me..."

"You want an answer to that question?"

"Yes."

"How much do you want it?"

A thrill of fear shook Yasmin. What if the answer wasn't favorable...but oh, she had to know...

"Very much," she said.

"Fine," he said, "I think many enjoyable things...I always do, when I am looking at a woman...The interplay of light and dark, of your skin on the sheets, is fascinating...for one thing...And I think of how much I will enjoy having you obedient to me...but now, there is something I want you to look at."

He pulled the key from his front pocket. She flinched...now he was going to...

But he didn't move to unchain her. Rather, he brought the key about six inches from her face.

Yasmin's brow furrowed in puzzlement.

"A trick I learned in my travels," he said, "You remember I was going to tell you about this. All you have to do is keep your eyes on the key as we talk."

Yasmin nodded. She had already been looking.

"But I still don't understand what..."

He silenced her, again seeming unalarmed by her less than perfect obedience.

"You are afraid of many things now, is that right? You're afraid of being trapped in your chains and of your new life with me, and of the pain when I fuck you."

Yasmin flinched. She had never heard anyone use such harsh language before. But she nodded...it was all certainly true.

"But I asked you if you trusted me. I said that I had much to tell you before I fucked you."

She flinched...there was that word again.

"And I was true to my word, was I not? I have not yet unchained you for my use."

She nodded.

"So you can trust me now, right."

Hesitantly, Yasmin gave a small nod.

"Then just keep your eyes on the key, and trust that my trick will take the pain away."

Yasmin kept her eyes on the key. Focusing on the bright metal was starting to tire her eyes out, but she continued to stare.

"You want to close your eyes now," said Sanman..."You may do so. Close your eyes, and begin breathing softly, deeply, as if you were about to fall into a deep sleep...let my voice do what the key once did...let it take all your fears away..."

Yasmin closed her eyes...she was surprised by how much more relaxed she was feeling...and there was a slight sensation she couldn't place, as if she was floating...

"You're beginning to relax now," he said "Let the relaxation you are feeling grow stronger. The air around you is getting warm and comfortable"

Yasmin nodded. She was deeply relaxed now, and not so cold. She also felt light, as if she were floating on air or...

"...My voice...you are floating on my voice. My voice fills you. It drowns out any remaining voices of your fears...when I speak, they will all disappear. Your mind will open to my voice, like a void that I will fill..."

Mmmm...Yasmin was going deeper and deeper into her mind. It was a pleasant feeling. She felt like she was riding off to some magical land from a story book. The box in her mind was open, the one in which she had locked away all the stories she had read...

"Yes, a story book," repeated Sanman.

Yasmin's breathing grew heavier...she wasn't aware she had spoken aloud.

"Relax" said Sanman. This time, that was all it took. Yasmin was back to floating on his voice.

"When I ask you a question, I want you to answer me with complete honesty."

Yasmin nodded.

"You have read many story books?"

"Yes."

"Have you read any other books?"

"Yes."

"Who taught you to read?"

"I did...in secret," she said, blushing.

"Then I want you to imagine a land from your favorite story...Imagine you are walking through the land, talking to the men and women who live there. You see many of the men reading and writing, and many women too. You realize that there is nothing shameful about learning to read. And your shame, too, is silenced by my voice."

Yasmin relaxed fully, into such a deep relaxation as she had never felt before. It was as if she were melting into the bed. It had been her worst fear of all, that he would leave her over her love of books, or try to take her books away. And now, that worst fear was gone. She trusted him absolutely. It had been so silly of her to hide her reading from him...

"And your love of reading only enhances my control of you. When I ask you about a book, wherever we are, you will be compelled to answer honestly. You won't be able to stop talking about it until I tell you to stop, as a matter of fact. On the other hand," here he touched her left hand, "If I stroke your left hand like so, you will be unable to talk about anything you have read, until such time as I and only I ask you to...this will prevent inconvenient persons from finding out about your love of books."

Yasmin accepted it. It would be useful to her to be able to show her love of books at her husband's behest, and to hide it when she needed to. She felt so grateful to him. She wanted to prostrate herself and thank him, but felt too relaxed to move. She focused her mind on her gratitude as hard as she could, in the hopes that he would feel it.

"Now, it is time for me to take my reward" said Sanman, "the obedient wife. When this key touches your body, you will be filled with a desire to feel me inside you, fucking you. It will grow stronger each time the key touches you."

This time, Yasmin did not flinch at the foul language. She felt the key being slid down her stomach, then her legs...she wanted to be fucked...there was no other word for it...

"When your legs are unchained, they will spread automatically, unconsciously," said Sanman. "You will be aware of all of the holes that a man can use on your body...and you will want to feel them entered, and fucked."

Yasmin nodded. Her legs must have been unchained now, because she was feeling something she had never felt before. An emptiness that needed filling, not just in her pussy, but in her mouth and ass as well...it had never occurred to her before that a man could use those, and yet here was a throbbing need in each, to be used.

"Yasmin, have you ever had an orgasm? Answer with complete honesty."

"Yes," Yasmin heard herself say, without thinking, before she could stop herself, "once, before I had the operation, I..."

"Good, and how did you feel when you had the orgasm?"

"I..."

"Don't say it," ordered Sanman, "just think, in your mind, of how good it felt. Let the thought of it, locked in your mind, echo, getting stronger, and stronger, and stronger still..."

Yasmin breathed heavily. She thought back, and the thought got realer and realer to her the more she thought it. She began to long to feel that feeling, just once more...she could almost feel it, it was humming in the back of her mind, humming between her legs...

"Whenever you know that you have obeyed or pleased me exceptionally well, you will think of that orgasm. Thinking of the orgasm will make you want to ask me for one...in fact, if you open your mouth, you may find yourself begging for an orgasm. The desire will end only when you have had the orgasm, which will happen when I, and only I, say the phrase 'you have obeyed well'."

Yasmin was aching, but it was a type of pain unlike any that she had felt before. It did not feel bad, like the other pains she felt in the place of her operation. Rather, it was an urge, so strong that it was painful, to have another orgasm.

"Do you understand?" asked Sanman.

"Yes," Yasmin could barely whimper "Yes, may I please..."

"Do you agree?" He interrupted, positioning his cock at her tunnel.

"Yes, may..."

"Silence," said Sanman. Yasmin clamped her mouth shut, knowing that opening it again would bring on more begging. As he thrust into her, Sanman said

"You have obeyed well."

Yasmin came harder than she had ever realized it was possible to come. It was as if the orgasm she remembered were echoing through her body, but amplified into echoes and echoes of pleasure. She felt the pain of her stitches breaking, but the pleasure of the orgasm was so overwhelming that even that was converted to pleasure. She bit her lip, trying to remain silent, worried about embarrassing herself with a moan of lust until...

"Scream," commanded Sanman.

She screamed. For a split second, she was scared that she might have been heard, and thought of how shameful it would be, but then Sanman's voice, ragged now with arousal, took the fear from her.

"You're going deeper and deeper into trance. Whenever I fill any of your holes with any part of my body, or any object, you will go into a deep trance. My thrusts will always bring you deeper, and deeper, and deeper still..."

And then she lost track of what he was saying. She knew he was still talking, but she couldn't consciously place the words, she only knew that they made her feel so good. Then she heard a noise that she couldn't place, kind of a squishing. Next thing she knew, a small object was sliding into her ass. Ordinarily she would have thought it was sick, or wrong, but right then, its presence was relaxing to her, pleasant even. It occurred to her that she might want to feel it inside her again. Right now, she just felt wave after wave of relaxed pleasure, washing over her. The spasms of Sanman's cock blowing its load into her were the last thing she felt before dropping off into a deep sleep.

She woke to a morning that felt perfectly peaceful and still. The shackles on her hands had been removed in her sleep. The sun shining on her skin felt pleasant. The air was warm, and the curtains of the bedroom were rustled by gentle breezes now and again. She felt the strong heat of her husband's body by her side. It felt good, and she felt submissive to him. It was a feeling like a peaceful glow throughout her body.

"Good morning, my wife," he said, "You've changed already, haven't you? I can tell that you're more relaxed now."

"Yes," Yasmin said, "It was like something out of a story book...I think I've read one like it, where a magician took control of a singer. And the way he did it was called, um..."

"Hypnotism," they both spoke the word at the same time.

"It was a skill I learned in my travels," said Sanman, "It has helped me to see many willing women, before I returned to take a wife. I found that it was a more effective way of controlling a woman than the brute force that many men of our land resort to."

"I felt submissive," agreed Yasmin "Well, I feel submissive now. I really feel it deep inside me, not like I'm acting or playing a part like I thought I would. And some of the things you made me do..." she blushed.

"Continue," said Sanman.

"Well, I used to be ashamed of the things I did. Like, that I'd had an orgasm before. I thought it would make me unmarriageable. I thought my groom finding out about the books would, too. But now, it all just feels like a part of obeying my husband."

Sanman nodded, "Then I have achieved what I set out to do. I woke before you, well, actually, I told you that you wouldn't wake up this morning until I woke up, left the bed, and came back. I sent a message to your parents telling them to meet us for dinner with all their friends and relatives this evening. I said that I wanted to show them how I had made you the most obedient of wives."

"Draw me a bath now, and prepare breakfast. After breakfast, you'll take your own bath. Spend some of the morning reading a book about an obedient woman, and the rest of it however you like. But make sure you have dinner prepared by 4:00."

It seemed strange to Yasmin to have dinner prepared so early, but she did all of what she was told. She prepared breakfast and lunch to his specifications, and found that he seemed unusually happy that day, though she could not say why. It made her think of two of the happiest moments in her life...the times when she had orgasmed. She blushed as she asked if she might orgasm again.

"You might," he said coyly, "it depends...but for now, get on with your reading." He showed her where his books were kept.

Even as she read and went about her day, she could see his eyes dancing over her. She could see him delighting in the sight of her. He seemed to like to see her lying on the bed with her knees bent up and a book propped on them, liked to see her cooking and cleaning. At 4:00 pm she was done preparing the dinner. She put the meat in the oven and felt the heat against her dark brown skin, and suddenly, Sanman's hand was firmly cupping her buttock.

"That's silly, you forgot to dress this morning," he said.

"You made me," she said. She didn't mean to sound so accusatory, but the embarrassment she felt was a bit overwhelming.

"And you enjoyed it," he replied, unruffled. "You even asked to come, didn't you?"

No answer.

"Your family is coming at 5:30. I wanted you naked today so that I could use another hole without having to disrobe you, and then dress you again."

"Other hole," she puzzled, then suddenly it occurred to her "you mean, my mouth?"

He nodded. He walked to the bedroom with her and sat down on the bed. He told her to kneel before him. She sat down on her bare soles, her back straight. He told her to lean forward and place her mouth on his cock, careful not to let her teeth touch the organ.