Tournament for the Bound Damsel MF/F

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WyattW5
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Centennial Club
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Tournament for the Bound Damsel MF/F

Post by WyattW5 »

The medieval story heavily inspired by Game of thrones.

It is that time of year again. The entire Kingdom would drop their tools set aside for their toils and their troubles. For it was spring. The dawn of new life after Winters cold. And today the Kingdom was ready to witness the Tournament for the bound Damsel.

Each year. The Kingdom celebrated the spring with a tournament of Combat Chivalry and Courage. As young men would present themselves as champions for the bound Damsel.

The Damsel is always a Maiden aged eighteen through twenty-one. They are usually the daughter of the wealthiest families or the most beautiful girls in the land.

This year. Was special. For King Roderick's youngest daughter Princess Isabella. Was set to be the bound Damsel. There was always a great many traditions that befell the Damsel. The night before she was given one night of revelry. Considered as a Hen party. She was fed as much wine and mead she could stomach and amused with all the festivities she could hope.

But in the morning. The Damsel's father or Man-guardian. Would enter her room and with the help of a single maid prepare her for the festivity. Princess Isabella was not allowed to remove her bondage at any time during the festival. If she needed to perform her ablutions she would be forced to have her handmaiden assist.

Princess Isabella stands five foot two red hair that draped down to her waist should she let it. Now her long hair was spread over three thick braids before tied together.

The Bound Damsel was by tradition always adorned in a white gown. To symbolize herself suitable upon her wedding day. But as her father was the King he had ensured several other traditions would be met. Her red hair would be concealed in a beautiful sheer white veil. Her dress was white with faint gold trim and embroidery.

Now came the part to turn her to a damsel. Her bondage. While the tradition was simple rope binds and cloth. King Roderick had kept some older lesser used but more proper looking utensils.

Isabella’s hands were bound with iron shackles. Behind her back below her veil. Her ankles bound with a thin iron shackle. It was thin but strong all the same. For the Princess’ gag. He had a leather panel that would need to be added after the opening ceremony.

King Roderick took his daughter by her bound arm and commences to walk her down the halls of the castle. Whereupon the veranda, the Kingdom would hear the Damsel's last eligible words.

Walking to the veranda a total of a hundred or so common folk and nobility gather together to look upon the Princess standing shakily beside her father. King Roderick raises a calm hand.

“My people is that time again, the most joyous occasion. The Tournament for the bound damsel, and what a damsel she is” Roderick smiles looking to his daughter standing shakily the iron shackles and dress made it difficult to walk. But Isabella would hold her complaints.

She had seen this tradition talked to other maidens who had participated. And all had assured her. One small day of tribulation. A lifetime of a sensational marriage.
“Now our Damsel is allowed to speak her last eligible words as a free woman” Roderick smiles looking to his daughter curious as to what her words would be. Stepping from her father's arms Isabelle looks down on the competitors of the tournament.

“I bid you all good luck, and God bless” ending her statement her father steps forward brandishing a brown leather panel while her handmaiden had approached with a white sash. Filling Isabella’s mouth she could feel the large sash was going to be a trial all day. It lodged pretty near to the back of her throat. Wrapping the panel around her mouth her father buckles the gag below her red hair struggling around the veil he had set both buckles tight but not constrictive.

“Champions prepare yourselves the tournament has officially begun” the crowds cheered and clapped. Now her handmaiden had taken her arm and had commenced walking Isabelle from the veranda surrounded by four soldiers dressed in King Roderick's rampant lions.

Walking with these binds Isabelle struggled nearly falling three times. Tripping over her dress to feeling the restraint of the shackles. Her shoulders bent backward's she could feel what this would do to her posture. As she sat down on the second-highest chair next to the stands.

The Knights each present themselves to the Bound Damsel swearing they will rescue her. Isabelle had seen only a handful of these men before. However, each of them is more charming or more flattering than the last. More times than she cared to recall she had opened her mouth to speak when all that came was.

“Mpahphf yuphf” the knights simply bowed and returned to their place. Testing her bonds again Isabelle began to shake and wiggle. It was nearly impossible for her to sit still on a good day. How was she going to manage another six hours sitting tied up and gagged! Looking at the bright blue sky she smiles.

As the tournament went on. Isabella’s arms began to feel more and tenser. Her shoulders pulled back. Chest puffing out. Her legs seemed relatively relaxed save the extremely cold chain that would wiggle over her ankles should she try to adjust her seat.

Every attempt to cheer the competitors came out a slight low mew. Looking to the lists. She could see, there were at least another a dozen shields. Then there were the semifinals and the finals. With two, one hour intervals. Isabella was set up for a long wait.

So long as it only once a year. And this time it is her time. As the competitors began to battle each other with their strong chargers and heavy lances. Isabelle found herself thinking of future years. She would feel much-much more sympathy for the poor bound damsel. To suffer such a fate.