Sally & The Cult

“Are you Aaralon?”

Aaralon looked up from the bowl of gruel he had been served as breakfast and into the face of a bright-eyed young blond woman. She was dressed in the same drab sackcloth clothing as everyone else and yet she somehow managed to radiate an almost physical sexual allure. Even to Aaralon, who at that moment viewed women as about as sexual as trees, couldn’t help by admiring her. “That’s me.”

“I’m so happy to meet you!” She exclaimed as she says down across from him. “I’m Sally!”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too,” Aaralon replied coolly and for a moment he reflected on how he could talk to her without nerves. Before all this happened, in his few interactions with girls of his own age, he had always stuttered and mumbled and looked anywhere but at them. Now he had no trouble looking at her or talking to her. A silver lining to his Master’s toying with his mind.

“I’m got everything organized for the show,” Sally was speaking quickly, like an excited dog. “I hope that is alright with you?”

Aaralon shrugged in agreement, he honestly had no idea what he was supposed to do here but he trusted his Master would show him the way. “I was wondering if you could maybe give me a tour of the town.”

Sally looked like she was about to explode with pride at the request. Jumping out of her seat with glee. It was strange, in many ways the way she acted reminded him of the Thralls yet there was something there unlike anything within them. As enthusiastic as the Thralls could be there was always that emptiness in the eyes. A reminder that they had been subsumed by the Master. Aaralon had stared at himself many times in the mirror, trying to pick out that same look in his own eyes but had never been able to find it. Maybe that meant he still had himself in some fundamental way or maybe you just couldn't see it in yourself.

Either way, Sally had the flare of life behind her eyes as she led Aaralon out of the Tavern and into the streets.

He watched her as she walked and understood perfectly how she had been able to form a cult in a scant few weeks. Even in the form destroying clothes her wide hips and ample bosom were clear to see. Somehow the fact that she was so covered up only seemed to excite the mind more. No doubt there were plenty of men in this town who would agree to do pretty much anything if it came with a chance of seeing her take off those clothes.

“I would like to meet some of the other members of the group if that is possible,” Aaralon asked as they walked. Sally firing off descriptions of the nondescript hovels they passed by. At the request, she seemed to become even more excited than before and they began to head towards the blacksmith.

“This is Shane,” she said with a flourish as they stepped into the stifling heat of the forge.

Shane was a tall man, easily a head higher than Aaralon. He was dressed in a leather apron and gloves, his chest and arms mostly bare underneath. Aaralon let his eyes roam over his chest and arms as he worked a glowing length of metal. In his current state of mind Aaralon help but wonder what it would feel like to have those arms wrapped around him.

He was snapped out of his reverie when Shane finally turned towards the pair of them. He had a face that spoke to a life either out under the hot sun or bathed in the heat of a furnace. The hard lines that must have once made him quite the lady killer softened by wear.

He smiled at them as he pulled his gloves off and moved across the forge. “So you must be the big wig.” He said, holding out a hand for Aaralon to shake.

Aaralon took his hand, again the images flashing across his mind, vivid, of those hands playing across his naked body. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me a big wig before but sure.”

Shane pulled his hand away with a smile. “Sally tells me we are going to have a meeting tonight. Anything I should bring along?”

At the question, Aaralon felt something strange, a sensation not unlike when his Master entered his mind, yet this was more like something within himself had awoken and was whispering things to him.

He moved around the forge, taking in the assorted tools and half-finished projects. His eyes searching for something. “What kind of, equipment, do you have here?”

The tone of the words made it clear that he wasn’t talking about hammers and tongs and Shane seemed to understand that right away. He gestured to Sally, who moved over to the door, holding it closed as he went rummaging through a pile of castoffs in the corner. Eventually, he pulled out a sack, dumping its contents onto the table for Aaralon to see.

It was a mix of a few items, a set of leather handcuffs, a ball gag and a set of clamps. Aaralon vaguely knew what each of these things where for although that knowledge again came from the strange whispering place within him. He picked up the cuffs, looking them over, they were well made, strong enough for what was to come.

He tossed the cuffs to Shane. “Bring these,” as he spoke he noticed the way Sally was looking at the cuffs and he got curious. “Who have you used them on so far?”

Both Shane and Sally jumped at the suddenly blunt question and they looked between each other guiltily.

Sally was the first to speak up, “I, uh, let Milo use them on me at our last meeting.” For the first time, she actually looked embarrassed.

Aaralon smiled and nodded. “Good to know they work then,” he picked through the other items but didn’t find anything else he wanted. “Just don’t forget those.”

Shane began to pack the stuff away and Sally was already heading for the door. A part of Aaralon wanted to prod further, he had a feeling that Sally was not the only one who had used them but he knew the moment had passed.

Something to bring up later, perhaps.