"How do you feel?"<br/><br/>The question should have been simplistic, a roll of the tongue to answer, yet the petite blonde beauty with crystalline blue eyes hidden behind a silk-soft cloth and her wrists bound above her head found her voice lost to her. When the sweet slave approached Daphne in the market square all those weeks ago the young woman had not the faintest idea of what would come in the weeks to follow. Eirene had made it her mission to grow close to the fairer woman and, in time, Daphne's trust was placed firmly in her hands.<br/><br/>Whispered secrets and conversations would accompany the companions on long walks and late into their shared nights until souls seemed bared for the other. They spoke of dreams and hopes, fantasies and stories of both times of great happiness and those of great sorrow. No matter the conversation, it proved to be another layer stripped from the distance society considered acceptable until the two were closer than lovers on an emotional and mental scale. Psychically, save for the caress of lips on a cheek as they murmur goodbye or the delicate brush of fingertips against flesh exposed by the fabric of their clothing, they remained chaste until a soft, seeking kiss was placed on willing lips.<br/><br/>Daphne had heard the rumors. She knew of the stories that swirled about Eirene, concerning her more unorthodox desires: ropes, chains, dominance and firm control. But late at night as she lay in her own bed, or in that of her close friend's, she thought of these rumors with a barely contained excitement. Her pulse raced with such contemplations and her body clenched in a way she was unfamiliar with. In truth, she was unsure of what it was exactly that excited her so, the acts themselves that ran rampant through her mind or the luscious older woman that played the lead in all of her fantasies.<br/><br/>With their first kiss she knew she was lost for all time, how could she turn away when her heart cried out for more? Yet following the kiss, things returned to normal for the two friends. Eirene continued to instruct Daphne in the arts, in language and in the composure desired in a young woman as far as Athens was concerned. She was instructed to have her own opinion and to voice her thoughts and feelings with ease, she was taught humility and humble modesty but each second that slipped by caused Daphne to become more and more aware of the brunette woman that instructed her. The soft skin that brushed her own, the piercing eyes that seared her very soul and left her breathless, the curves Daphne found so like her own yet a mystery to her inexperienced hands, the delicate shadows and hollows of her body concealed by thin, breathable cloth. To want was a torture and an ecstasy that left the young woman desiring more and more.<br/><br/>Soon though, the teachings held a more carnal lesson to them. Although sawing, painting, singing and language were still taught with a firm yet loving hand, so too was the appreciation of her own body and that of the female form. Once brief touches now lingered, kisses touched more than a mere cheek and exploratory fingers probed untouched flesh. Cries of pleasure would ring through the room on any given day or night to accompany the soft rattle of chains or the delicate brushes of rope upon rope.<br/><br/>Now Daphne stood as commanded, her posture guided by the rope until her body was stretched taut, the violet chiton she had worn lay pooled at her feet and the golden delicate waves were tied back in a long braid leaving her face, and therefore her anticipatory expression, visible. The deprivation of her sight enhanced the rest of her senses until nothing was above her notice. The pleasurable burn of her wrists as she rubbed against the soft rope, the slight breeze that caressed her naked flesh until her pale pink stood erect from the chill and her body quivered, the slight movement of her lover as she moved around her bound partner. Nothing escaped Daphne yet as those whispered words reached her ear she felt unable to answer them.<br/><br/>Could she not see the hunger that beat at her? Could she not see the flesh that yearned for the slightest touch? Was she blind to the need that throbbed impatiently between her thighs or deaf to the pounding of her heart?<br/><br/>With a hushed sound, truly no more than a whimper, she replied, "I want... I need more... I feel that I shall burst into flames at any moment, I do not know if I can stand it."