Limbo between Kings

Day 4 - Inside the pages

The sun never seemed to touch the ground underneath the mare’s hooves. Days could have gone by without Olivia knowing, yet her abductor seemed capable of counting the minutes. And as mid-day came and passed with the cloth gag shoved deep into her blistering mouth, she began to regret her previous hostility. Never bite the hand that feeds, they say. Or spit on their face, it would seem.

Sweat poured from her brow, the cool day felt as if it were steam against her cheeks. The cracked corners of her lips split with every moment denied water, her tongue shriveled with each attempt to dislodge the fabric, only succeeding to roll it tighter against her teeth. She was a roasted hog with an apple shoved in its mouth, served on a silver platter to the scorned king.

Olivia groaned, the sound lost against her muzzle. Anger burning the tips of her ears, a small patch of red swelling her chest. She had always felt like a tomato in her aggravation. Another flaw her brother had found, another mockery to add to the list.

How easy it would have been for them to ask for her hand, and how quickly she would have accepted, to escape her beloved brother. But to be punished for a crime she didn’t commit. To be gaged and tied for actions she had condemned was infuriating! Being penalized for another’s crimes wasn’t unusual among women, and being of noble birth seemed not to change matters. Yet, Olivia had spoken strongly against invading the west, having suggested a trade instead. Her brother had dismissed her, claiming his right to the lands, a pompous thought nearly every king believed he had.

How ironic the trade she had suggested would happen against her will.

Huffing through her nose, a small tendril of hair blew to the side of her face. There wasn’t use in mewling about her situation now. She could whimper and sob into her restrains all evening, but little difference it would make.

Olivia shifted her weight to the side, hoping to relieve the burn between her thighs. Another shift stretched the growing wound, seeping down her leg and cooling her hot skin as it streamed. No matter how much she adjusted herself, she could not escape the festering pain.

“Be still.” He growled into her ear. His calloused hand gripped her forearm, tightening his fingers on her skin so she would cease her movements. The longer she remained still, the harder it was to ignore. Yelling into the fabric, she wiggled sharply against him, his body shifting to create space.

“For fucks sake, What?” He seethed with a sharp pull of the cloth that had bound her tongue. The release of her gag surpassing any sex.

“I need to relieve myself.” Her words felt sloppy, the slack of her jaw numb after hours of being pried open. She would invent any excuse to remove herself from the monster he called a horse. He sighed, the warmth of his breath sending chills down her spine, “Hold it.”

“I’ve been holding it,” Olivia snapped, circling her eyes to the sky.

“We make camp at sundown. Until then, hold it.” He dismissed her. His head turned to the fading rays of sun peeking through the dense trees. With a click of his tongue, he urged the horse into a trot, keen on making use of as much time to distance them before the descending sun fell.

“I will soil your saddle if we don’t stop immediately.” She warned.

“How uncouth of you,” He mocked, “go ahead, then.” The dare boldened her, and a pressed smile split her chapped lips. The idea of looking at his face as she urinated on his oiled saddle was too enticing to pass.

“If you insist.” She relaxed her rigged frame, feigning the beginning of a release.

Exasperated, a sigh of breath blew against her cheek. His hand pulled back, ordering the Chesnut beast to halt.