Beneath The Fleece

No pain, no gain

I've often heard that without pain there isn't any gain. One of my earliest memories is of my father pulling me to my feet after having knocked me down for the umpteenth time. He would grumble "Without pain you cannot grow, little mouse". At the time I thought it was stupid and made little sense but in the grand scheme of things he had been right. If it didn't kill me, it helped to make me stronger. That was something I desperately needed to be.

"Dear God!" Sebastian groans, his deep voice vibrating. The taunt muscles of his shoulders and arms flex with effort. "I don't think it can be any tighter "

Darkness tinges the edge of my vision as I struggle to suck in a breath. The pressure seeming far to great to bare.

"Are you sure you want me to keep going?" He huffs raggedly.

"N-no, but you have to." I rush out in a whispery reply, feeling light headed.

"Fuck." He grunts once before going again. This time my breath halts and I choked on a cough, feeling as though I might black out. One final squeeze before his body slumps slightly.

"Alright I'm done." He sighs heavily dropping his rough hands away from me. The tightness squeezing against my chest was intense. So much so that I was motionless for a long while, attempting to even my breaths.

"Are you sure you're alright Lyr?"

"I'm fine!" I hiss out frustratedly.

"I truly wish things were different." He whispers, stepping back and distancing himself from me.

"You and I both." I say sourly, pulling a large dark sweater over my torso. The material was thick and it pricked at my skin. I know that it isn't an appropriate choice for the warming spring weather, however it helps hide the feminine physique beneath that I condemn. Sebastian is watching me, his soft amber eyes holding that damn look of pitty he often sends my way.

"Bash, I'm fine!" I bark at him, refusing to make eye contact through the tall floor length mirror, while rolling the sleeves of the woolen garment up to my elbows.

"I just.." He trails, sharp jaw set in emotion as he looks over my features.

"I know." I sigh heavily, running a hand down my face. "I will be down in a minute." My words a not so subtle dismissal.

He nods, dark sable hair dropping over his brow. He makes it as far as the door before his movements cease, hand resting on the rusting brass door nob. Looking back over a broad shoulder he opens his mouth as if to say something, only to change his mind last minute. I watch his tall, muscular form retreat, eyeing the way his thin dark gray tunic conforms to his toned upper body. As he moves beyond the rickety door way jealously pangs in my gut briefly.

The soft click accompanied by the sound of boots falling against the wooden slated floor of the hall tells me I am finally alone. Refocusing my attention to the lanky figure staring back at me, I take in my reflection. Short wavey chestnut hair brushes my forehead, trickling into my eyes and curving around my ears. Had it been allowed to grow out, it would surely be a soft swooping tumble. Light freckles dust the bridge of my little button nose, a feature that would be admired on a woman. The thought makes me sick. Wide hazel eyes flicker across my features, a look of disgust filling them.

Dropping my gaze and taking in my slender frame, I shudder. To anyone else it would appear to be the body of gangly young man in his early teens, but I know better. Underneath the layers of thick fabric is the curvaceous figure of a woman. My only saving grace being that my breasts were a moderate size, easily hidden under the leather binding. Unease floods through me and bile creeps up my throat at the thought of what being a woman in this world means. I swiftly stuff the mental images down, moving from the mirror.