Out of nowhere, while striding along the castle rampart one summer evening, Queen Xicralia sensed a force impinging upon her mind. Though obviously a desiring force, its specific objective could not be ascertained, so she barricaded her mind and instructed her guards to find the source of this force—and then bring it to her.

 

They discovered it almost immediately, sitting meekly outside the castle gates: a bedraggled woman dressed in cheap fabric, much of it torn and sullied. Her head lolled toward her chest, and her eyes were downcast, barely open. She seemed perpetually on the verge of slumber. She hardly reacted when the guards grabbed her, and she was no more vital as she was brought to a cavernous chamber, restrained, and then left alone with Queen Xicralia and her most favored courtesan, Jahla.

 

From a throne of baleful obsidian, clad in a violet cloak and long black boots, Queen Xicralia surveyed her captive while Jahla stood demurely off to her right.

 

The woman hung suspended in the air before them, a complicated assortment of ropes and straps holding her fast, her limbs stretched taut so that her naked body formed a rigid X. Her head was unrestrained, and it drooped pitifully to her chin. Looking thoroughly trounced, she seemed unwilling or unable to meet Queen Xicralia’s gaze.

 

“It was all too easy to bind you so,” boasted Queen Xicralia. “How meekly you submitted to your fate.”

 

Jahla recalled it similarly. The woman had seemed sluggish and impotent. Not once had she resisted the rough handling of Queen Xicralia’s guards. In fact, it was as if she had acceded to her enthrallment.

 

“Yet prior to your capture,” continued Queen Xicralia, absently noting the gleaming silver buckles of her own long boots, “I sensed a vigorous effort to encroach upon my mind. No doubt this was your furtive attempt to enter and control it. Is this not true, psychic vulture? Is this not true, foul mind-ruffler?”

 

The woman rolled her head slightly and saliva dribbled to the floor. But she did not respond.

 

“Enchanters and thaumaturges far more powerful than yourself have sought to access and control my mind,” noted Queen Xicralia, looking now at her captive, “and yet none has succeeded. Your feeble attempts were destined to fail. I am impervious to psychic entreaties.”

 

Jahla thought back to the various times that necromancers—either for their own gain or on behalf of obscure employers—had attempted to force Queen Xicralia into mental submission, and how inevitably they had failed. She shuddered, knowing well the queen’s dominant tendencies and her lust for punishing those foolish enough to challenge her. A few fools had tried, and all of them had encountered the queen’s unbreakable resistance before suffering unspeakable fates—sometimes at the hands of the queen’s torturers, sometimes at her own.

 

Queen Xicralia was a vicious, domineering figure, in whom Jahla could discern no softness. In fact she had never, in Jahla’s memory, exhibited any sign of vulnerability. She did not experience suffering; she meted it out.

 

Surely the bound woman now recognized this as well—though Jahla doubted, based on the woman’s drooling, listless countenance, that she were capable of recognizing anything at the moment.

 

“Your efforts, though impotent, have obviously strained you,” observed Queen Xicralia, frowning in disgust at her captive. “It would have been wiser to hone your capacities before attempting such a foolhardy endeavor. Earlier this evening, I thought I had detected a powerful sorceress to combat and lord over. But clearly I was mistaken.”

 

Jahla recognized the tenor of her ruler’s voice. She knew how much Queen Xicralia enjoyed toying with her captives, yet she also knew the capriciousness of her sadism, and how quickly it subsided into idle curiosity and then, abruptly, into total indifference. She suspected the proceedings would soon end.

 

“In a moment I will depart this room,” announced the queen, “and you will begin a slow death at the hands of my torturers. I am not sufficiently intrigued by you to personally deliver torments upon your body.”

 

Hearing this, Jahla felt a surge of fear, or perhaps lust, for this meant that the queen would almost certainly redirect her unspent sadistic energy upon her favored courtesan later that night. It was a not infrequent occurrence.

 

“But now, before I take my leave,” spoke Queen Xicralia, “I must confess to an idle curiosity.”

 

She paused, placing a long, violet-lacquered finger to her lips, studying the woman.

 

“Your powers were unrefined and unremarkable, to be sure, but I did feel a strong current of desire behind their use. It has been some time since I detected desire so potent.”

 

The queen’s eyes narrowed.

 

“So I now command you, clumsy mind-trifler: Find your tongue and tell me what you so ineptly sought.”

 

All of a sudden, for the first time, the woman’s body roused from its lethargy. An imperceptible electric charge coursed through her limbs and her hands stretched wide, fingers straining. Then her head steadied and she looked up slightly, just enough to rest her still-barely-open eyes upon Queen Xicralia’s boots.

 

Finally she spoke.

 

“Your feet, Queen Xicralia. I should like to see your bare feet.”

 

At this, the queen threw back her head and laughed uproariously, the sound echoing around them.

 

“Ha! My feet? You should have sought my gold.” She grinned malevolently. “Nobody in the realm is permitted to see my feet. Not even Jahla, my most favored courtesan, has seen them.”

 

It was true. Despite years of service, in both official and intimate capacities, Jahla had never been granted a glimpse of her queen’s debooted feet. She had wondered, however…

 

“So too is it known,” continued Queen Xicralia, gesturing toward her legs, “that these boots can be removed only by my hand. They were custom built for me by the Magician Flidivia: a sorceress far more powerful than yourself, but one who, alas, no longer lives.”

 

Queen Xicralia smiled, as if remembering a fond memory.

 

“Before Flidivia’s… shall we say timely demise, the sorceress ensured that these boot buckles could be loosened only by my hand, and only if I willed it.”

 

Haughtily, she leaned forward in her throne and spread her long legs, snarling down at her captive.

 

“But of course I do not will it.”

 

She lingered for a moment in this imperious pose, but then she leaned back and sighed.

 

“But why am I prattling on? Surely this lore is known to you, as it is to the realm. Very likely it is precisely this lore which has given rise to your desire. Whatever the case, you shall remain unsated, as others before you.”

 

She tapped her lacquered fingers on the throne, waiting for a response—or at least some further movement—from her captive. None was offered. The woman merely stared at the queen’s boots.

 

“I grow weary of this interaction,” declared Queen Xicralia, her eyes darkening. “Frankly, I expected to be more amused by it, perhaps even challenged. You have been a disappointment, a bore—and so now I leave you, witless witch, to your slow and painful death.”

 

Queen Xicralia was on the verge of clapping for the guards when, without warning, the bound woman raised her head enough to make eye contact with her captor.

 

The queen found herself looking into eyes without color, two pits of stygian darkness, and she found herself perched on their edges, dizzy with apprehension as she peered not at these eyes but rather down into them. She stared into their darkness, communing with it unwillingly, and in time she noticed that this darkness was generated not by a void but by two iridescent tempests—violent, ricocheting squalls of light that she had not noticed before, but which now tugged at the margins of her mind, smearing its edges while flustering her sense of self. She strained against this visual assault but could not resist its savage beauty, and soon she was screaming and thrashing internally, at once fearful of what she saw and desperate to be touched by it. Then, without warning, the experience ended.

 

Queen Xicralia blinked slowly and looked around, readjusting to the cavernous setting.

 

The bound woman was no longer making eye contact; she had apparently lowered her head again. Jahla looked on blandly, as if barely any time had passed.

 

The queen realized that she had been fiercely gripping the throne, and as her fingers relaxed, she felt a wave of tension release from her body.

 

It was a rather pleasing sensation, and in this moment she began to feel strangely… calm, even motivated.

 

But motivated to do what?

 

“Queen Xicralia.”

 

The voice was coming from the center of the room—from the bound woman. The queen looked upon her with interest.

 

“Queen Xicralia. Can you see Jahla beside you?”

 

“Yes,” said the queen.

 

The bound woman raised her head and made eye contact with Jahla, who instantly moved two steps backwards.

 

Then she spoke again to the queen. “Can you still see her?”

 

“Just about,” the queen responded.

 

“Keep looking forward so that Jahla is on the edge of your vision. Relax your body as much as you can, and allow your breathing to become steady and easy. Listen to what I say, and if your eyes feel tired, allow them to close.”

 

In the cavernous room, Queen Xicralia was aware that Jahla stood to her right, stock-still, breathing quietly.

 

“Keep Jahla in sight and listen to me, and while you do so I would like you to start counting backwards to yourself, count to yourself, count from five hundred downwards, start now, keep counting, and listen to what I say, but keep counting slowly 499 to yourself, and breathing 498 very gently and slowly, and think 497 of nothing but seeing Jahla and 496 counting slowly backwards listening 495 to what I say, and feeling your body very relaxed 494 and comfortable, very comfortable, your legs 493 feel very heavy, your arms feel very heavy 492 and now your eyes are beginning to feel 491 very tired, so if you wish you can close them, let them close, but keep 490 counting slowly and listening, your body is very relaxed 489 and now your eyes have closed but you are 489 488 still counting slowly, while you feel you are drifting backwards, very relaxed as you drift backwards, and now 487 you are feeling very drowsy, very comfortable as you drift backwards, feeling drowsy, listening to what I say but getting drowsy, drifting deeper and deeper into sleep, but still listening to what I say…”

 

Queen Xicralia felt comfortable and relaxed and drowsy, but still aware of all that surrounded her. Her eyes were closed and she was listening to the bound woman, but she could sense other things as well. Toward the ceiling of the cavernous room she could hear the jangling of ropes and levers, and to her right she heard Jahla’s quiet breathing. Beyond the room she thought she could hear the sound of chainmail and her marching guards. Acquiescent to the bound woman’s suggestions, her body felt completely relaxed even as her mind remained alert.

 

“… drifting backwards, feeling drowsy, listening to me, your body is relaxed and you are sleepy. Good, Queen Xicralia, very good. Now continue breathing very steadily, but what I want you to do is concentrate on your right foot. Think about your right foot, and how it feels, and concentrate on it, and perhaps you find it is resting on something very soft, something very light, very light, something that is supporting your foot, something that is pressing up very gently from below, lifting your foot, lifting your foot…”

 

As the woman said these words, Queen Xicralia felt to her amazement that her booted foot was lifting up from the ground. It moved gently upwards, until her leg was nearly parallel to the ground.

 

“Very good, Queen Xicralia. Now feel it in the air, feel the air around it, supporting it gently. The air is holding it up, the air is holding it, holding it, and now you cannot pull the foot down again, the air is holding it…”

 

Thinking she should try, the queen flexed her leg muscles and attempted to bring her booted foot down… but the sensation of something soft and supporting was too much, and her foot stayed where it was.

 

“… holding it up, but now I want you to lower your foot as soon as I have counted to five, as soon as I count from one to five, your foot will fall back, but not until I reach five, Queen Xicralia, one… two… your foot is still held up by the air… three… four… now you feel the air is releasing your foot… five… your foot is free…”

 

Seemingly of its own will, the booted foot fell slowly back to the ground.

 

“… that’s very good, Queen Xicralia, very good. Now I want you to continue breathing slowly, your whole body relaxed, but when I tell you I want you to open your eyes, not until I tell you, you can open your eyes and look around the room, and when you open your eyes and look around the room, I want you to look, but not until I tell you, I want you to look for Jahla, look for Jahla, but you will not be able to see her, she is here but you will not be able to see her, but don’t open your eyes until I have counted to five, when I count from one to five I want you to open your eyes…”

 

The bound woman droned on and on, and the queen, listening closely, found her voice irresistible, compelling.

 

“… open your eyes when I reach five… one… two… three… four… I want you to open your eyes… five…”

 

Queen Xicralia opened her eyes, and saw the bound woman in the center of the room, looking at the floor, listless as ever but still droning on.

 

“You cannot see Jahla, but I want you to look for her, look around the room but you cannot see her, look now…”

 

The queen turned to her right, knowing Jahla was there. It was where her favored courtesan always stood, and just a moment ago the queen had heard her breathing quietly, but when she looked she was not there. Thinking she must have moved, the queen looked around the room, but saw her nowhere. She looked back to her right, knowing she was there, but was unable to see her. She tried to imagine Jahla’s familiar courtesan robes, but it was of no use. Jahla had quite simply vanished.

 

“You can speak if you wish, Queen Xicralia.”

 

“Where is Jahla? Has she left the room?”

 

“No, she is still here. Now, please sit back again and make yourself comfortable. Close your eyes again, steady your breathing and let your limbs relax, you’re feeling drowsy. Good, that’s good. You can feel yourself starting to drift again, starting to move slowly backwards, and now you feel very sleepy indeed, very sleepy, and you are drifting deeper and deeper, that’s very good, deeper and deeper, and now I’m going to count to ten, from one to ten, you will drift deeper and deeper, and with every number you will drift deeper, and feel sleepier and sleepier, one… very deep… two… you are drifting further and further… three…”

 

But then there was a gap.

 

Queen Xicralia next heard, “… seven… you will feel very refreshed, very happy, very calm… eight… you are beginning to awaken, you will be fully awake, fully alert, very calm… nine… your sleep is now very light, much lighter, you can feel your eyelids, and in a moment you will open your eyes and be fully awake, and you will be present again… ten… you can open your eyes now, Queen Xicralia.”

 

The queen waited a few more seconds, comfortable in her throne, her arms resting atop it, sad that the experience—or whatever it was—had ended. She was reluctant to break the spell; during it, she had been free of her tendency toward mental vigilance, and at no point had she felt the familiar urge toward physical or emotional violence. But then her eyelids fluttered, and a moment later she opened her eyes fully.

 

Something had happened.

 

This was her first thought as she opened her eyes. The bound woman was no longer bound, and she stood a few yards away from the throne, looking impassively at the ground. Jahla stood off to the woman’s right, slightly behind her, occupying the same position that she normally did in relation to the queen.

 

“How are you feeling, Queen Xicralia?”

 

“I feel, I feel…” she muttered, but she was confused, and already her mental vigilance was returning, along with her desire to dominate and establish order. “Why would I… Wait just a moment—why am I…” She looked at the woman. “How did you escape your bonds? Why are you… ?”

 

The queen was feeling suddenly, deeply befuddled—and quickly this feeling turned to anger.

 

“Just what is the meaning of this?!” She turned now to her courtesan. “Jahla, explain yourself! Explain yourself to your master! Why do you stand there? Why do you stand so willingly beside this woman—this matted creature of doubtful arts? What has she…” The queen’s confusion was increasing, along with her rage. “What is the meaning of this?!”

 

No response was offered. The woman stared at the ground and Jahla stood listlessly.

 

And so, with a sudden surge of vicious hate, seeking to strangle them both, Queen Xicralia sprang like a cat from her throne and took a menacing leap forward.

 

But something wasn’t right.

 

Something was terribly wrong.

 

For when she bounded from her throne and landed her first step, she did not hear the familiar clack of her bootheel—it should have echoed throughout the cavernous room, but what she heard instead was far quieter, and far more disturbing… for what she heard was a soft gentle slap, as of flesh against stone, and what she felt was an unfamiliar sensation—that of warm skin against cold ground.

 

Queen Xicralia realized that she was barefoot.

 

The realization was shocking enough to immediately curtail her pursuit and derail her anger, and with eyes wide and fear in her heart, she looked down to her feet. It was not, as she had desperately hoped, a tactile hallucination. She was completely barefoot. But she was never barefoot! Her boots were always worn! How could this be?!

 

“Yes,” said the now-unbound woman, smiling slightly. “Totally barefoot. Actually, I should thank you for allowing us this rare pleasure of seeing your pale, slender feet. For you yourself granted us this vision. You granted it, of course, while under hypnosis. But how willingly you removed your famous boots and revealed your dainty bare feet! And how surprising it was, how delightful, to see your nails painted violet—and how delicious it was to see your graceful soles and sloping arches! To touch them. To enjoy them. You were so obedient and cooperative. So vulnerable and willing. Thank you, Queen Xicralia, for being so permissive—for submitting so easily to my control.”

 

The queen was too humiliated to speak, and her cheeks reddened visibly.

 

And then she noticed, for the first time, that Jahla was holding, behind her back but dangling visibly, her famous boots. The queen felt suddenly distanced from herself, disassociating perhaps, and with a shudder of embarrassment she attempted to hide her feet, but since she was standing she managed only to put one foot on top of the other, switching futilely back and forth, failing to hide her naked pale toes.

 

It was a shy, girlish display, and it brought the now-unbound woman much delight. She smiled, and then she directed Jahla to put the queen in the currently unoccupied restraints.

 

Jahla responded immediately. Her manner was absent yet unhesitating. She dropped the boots to the floor and rushed to grab Queen Xicralia in a vise-grip, and as her former master struggled and screamed, she calmly fixed her into a rigid, bounded X in the center of the cavernous room.

 

“Guards, guards!” the queen screamed, but nobody seemed to hear.

 

Jahla returned to her position and picked up the queen’s erstwhile boots, and soon she was following obediently as her new master walked toward the door to exit.

 

The woman paused with her back to the bound queen, and without turning, she directed a final remark to the wailing, flailing captive.

 

“By the way, thrall—it will perhaps interest you to know that, before she died, the great Magician Flidivia produced a daughter. And to this daughter,” said the woman, smiling to herself, “she passed down all of her secrets.”

 

Then she continued walking, Jahla trailing behind her. When she got to the door she opened it, and she spoke to the guards outside, who by now had gathered en masse.

 

“Enjoy your queen,” said the woman, and they all rushed in.