The crack of thunder stirred him from his sleep; the pale flash of lightning that followed pulled him from it entirely. Link lifted his head, and from the slitted cracks of his eyelids he saw an oblong strip of velvety night sky across a small room; a window, he ascertained upon further examination, cut from the massive brown stones that were toppled up on top of one another, building walls around him. He looked to his left, his right, and found nothing but more stone wrapping the perimeter. A low-hung ceiling stretched overhead, cracks in its belly, spiderwebs in its corners. At the far end of the room, the only other distinguishing features to join the strip of missing stone that acted as a window were a pair of ensconced torches flanking a solitary door of iron bars. Their warm light flickered and sent shadows dancing onto the walls as a cool night breeze swept in from the window.
The breeze carried through the room and reached Link, but when he made to wrap his arms to his body and shield himself from its cold kiss, he found he had no such control. His wrists were locked in irons and pulled up over his head, joined together and affixed to the ceiling with a short length of chain that provided little slack and kept him locked in place. Because of the height his captors had strung his wrists up, he had little balance on the balls and heels of his feet, and that was made an even more arduous task than it should've been, as his ankles were locked together in fetters as well. There was something heavy around his neck too, but he could not see what. And his mouth had been gagged again; the knot of a tick cloth bulged between his teeth and the cloth itself wrapped his lower face, pressing tightly into his cheeks and the back of his head. He bit down on it and pulled a bit at his manacled hands, but found only the defiant, oppressive, sound of the chains clinking against themselves in answer.
Before he even had time to ruminate on his unfortunate situation, the sound of faint voices floating near from beyond the iron bars that served as his prison's doorway caught his ear and focused his sight their way. Upon the narrow sliver of hall he could see beyond, shadows came flickering forth, cluttered together and moving just ahead of the soft voices. A moment later, the women followed their shadows forth; though the shadows passed through the bars of his cell door; the women had to unlock it to gain entrance.
There were three of them in total, each with the bronze skin and thin frames that defined the Gerudo women. They came with wool cloaks over their shoulders—fitting attire for the chillier atmosphere of the desert at night—but wore garb similar to those he'd seen yesterday. Their lower faces were masked in silk veils, loose shirts that exposed their toned bellies hugged their chests, and baggy trousers blossomed from their belted hips. They moved across the prison, their sandaled feet kicking playfully at the patches of sand that had been, Link assumed, splashed about the stone floor to bring a bit of the desert inside, and each of their dark eyes were narrowed on his own beneath their jeweled headbands.
Two of the women pulled up a few feet short of his position and Link could hear their soft giggles drifting mellifluously from beneath their masks. The third pressed forward between the others' shoulders and stepped right up to him till the toes of her sandals pressed against his own feet. Link glared into the woman's almond eyes, flicked across her sharp features and high-set cheekbones, to her auburn hair tied back in a strict ponytail that swayed as she cocked her head and sent her own eyes trailing across his body. When they found his again, she reached for her silk veil and wrestled it down around her neck to fix him with full lips twisted at the corners into a mischievous smirk. The tip of a tongue, pink and moist, slipped from between those lips and ran briefly over them before sliding back into her mouth.
"You're act of defiance today has polarized our camp, slave," the woman said; her voice accented with the harsh Gerudo tongue, but her tone somewhat playful. Link watched her lips as they formed words. It was hard not to: they were pretty. "You did not defeat Jolene in combat… but neither did you submit," she went on. "You refused - refused right into unconsciousness." Her hand reached for his cheek and Link jerked his head away, but the act only broadened her smile and she reached out again, quicker, and took firm hold of his chin to keep him in place. "Now we have you as a captive… and half of us think you a slave, myself included. You may not have spoken your submission, but… your mind gave us what your tongue would not."
"Slave," one of the girls flanking beyond her shoulder taunted.
"Slave," the other echoed. "Our captive and our slave. Nothing more."
Some of the almond-eyed woman's mirth left her smile then as her gaze bore up into his. "But there are those of us in the camp who refuse to enslave you unless you speak your submission aloud. They want you to spar with Jo again… and again… and again. They'd have you sparring with her forever until either you defeated her or you begged for her mercy." The woman's eyes moved briefly back over her shoulder to her 'guards' or whatever they were, and her mischievous smirk returned. "But some of us girls aren't so naive as our sisters. We know there are… other ways to break a man than combat."
"Defiant little man-slave," one of the guards muttered.
The other added, "Needs to learn his place among us Gerudo."
"Beneath our feet."
"Worshipping the ground we walk on."
"My name is Aveil, man-slave," their leader said, firming her hold on his chin so his eyes were forced to her own. "I am going to be your master for awhile. If you understand, nod your head."
Link glared.
Aveil's tongue ran her bottom lip again, her head cocked slightly on its side. "Your anger excites me, slave, but I am not a Gerudo who is known for her patience. I'll ask again, and it would be wise of you to answer me this time." She leaned forth till her narrow nose was pressed to the tip of his. He could smell her copper skin. It smelled clean and fragrant. "I am your master," she growled. "Do you understand?"
Link didn't fear the woman. He'd faced far worse in his travels and lived to tell the tale… but he gave her what she wanted all the same, to calm her a bit if nothing else. He nodded.
"Good." Some of the fire left her eyes then as they fell slowly to his lips. "I'm going to remove your gag now, but do not take that as an invitation to start running that pretty mouth of yours. We've had you gagged for a reason, slave: you have no privilege here to speak without being spoken to. You are a man, and men should be silent unless called on to entertain their masters. Start talking or, Goddesses forbid, shouting, and I'll fix the gag right back on you, twice as tight. Do you understand?"
Link ground his teeth into the cloth wedged between them. He, begrudgingly, gave his acquiescence.
Aveil nodded, reached around for the back of his head, and Link felt her slender fingers working at the gag's knot there. When it loosened, she reached for the knot between his lips and, slowly, worked it free.
"You-mmf!" Link began, but the woman's hand came down immediately over his mouth, clamping firmly and shutting him up.
"I told you not to talk," she warned. "I meant it. Do it again… and I might consider cutting out your tongue."
Her hand pulled free at once, almost daring him to test her patience, but Link only stared into her almond eyes and resolved to remain silent. That seemed to appease the woman, and her hands lifted for his cheeks again. Her fingers slid along his skin, over his ears, and back to run trails in his hair. The lines of the woman's face tightened, and her eyelids fell amorously to half mast as she leaned in closer and stared at his lips. Link tried pulling away, but her hands clamped on the back of his head and held him still as she pounced - her mouth covering his own, warm and moist and full, and she immediately sucked at his bottom lip and nuzzled her nose up against his cheek. Link writhed in place, but his manacled hands and fettered feet made sure his squirming didn't get him far. The woman kissed as if she were a predator and he was her prey, and she had to keep aggressively offensive to conquer him. With each jerk away from her, Aveil moved to counter and kept at his lips with her own.
When she finally pulled away to give them both a chance to catch their wind, she swiped at her lips and heaved heavy breaths, and her hands left the back of his head to run down her own bare arms and belly as she stared at him. "I've wanted a taste of you since we came across your handsome half-naked body lying in our desert, slave," she admitted, a hungry twinkle in her eyes. "You taste… sweet."
"I want a taste of his sweetness, Aveil," one of her guards said, pushing in to loom over the woman's shoulder and sweep her eyes across Link.
"Yes. Let us have a taste, Aveil," said the other as she joined near, filling Link's vision entirely then with the three Gerudo women swarming around him in a tight circle.
"But I am a selfish woman, girls," Aveil told them without removing that penetrating stare of hers from Link's eyes. "I want this man-slave all to myself. I want him kept him in a little cage inside my tent. I want him to massage my back after a hard day's riding and wash the sand and dirt from my feet. I want him to feed me grapes and brush my hair and sing me songs when I desire them." Her hands reached forward and her slender fingers landed delicately on his bare chest, trailed down to trickle over his nipples, slid against the grooves of his muscled abdomen, and slipped into the waistband of his breeches. "And I want him and his manhood to satisfy my needs whenever they need satisfying." A bit deeper into his pants her hands went. "What say you to that, slave? Will you be my property?" Deeper. "Submit yourself to me?"
Link's skin began to run hot and itchy, his breath growing a bit shallow in his chest. Involuntarily, and as angry as it made him, he felt himself stiffen between his legs as her fingers grazed his inner thighs.
The other girls moved to his sides and then their hands were in his hair and their faces were pressing in closely to his own. He felt their warm breath on his ears, and their lips pecked every-so-slightly at his neck.
Before him, Aveil lowered herself to her knees and glanced mischievously to his eyes before returning her focus south and taking hold of his breeches at the waistband.
"Don't," Link muttered, though his throat had suddenly run as dry as the desert.
"Shhhh," Aveil hushed him and yanked his last bit of clothing down to his ankles in one fell sweep. By then, Link had grown hard enough to feel his cock swaying with the momentum of its own sudden freedom from his breeches. The wind was cool on it, but his flesh was heated with desire.
"Oh my," Aveil cooed, a flush of color coming to her bronze cheeks as she stared at his manhood.
The other Gerudo women leaned forward to survey him as well.
"He is like one of our horses outside in the stables," the girl on his right whispered excitedly.
"Yes," the girl on his left added. "This one will make a fine slave and a proper… satisfier."
They both giggled and snickered and went back to kissing at his neck and running their hands over his chest and stomach.
"What do you want me to do with this big thing down here, slave?" Aveil asked him, and when she talked, she moved her mouth just before the tip of his cock, so that with every word she spoke, a puff of warm air trickled against it.
Link grit his teeth and glowered down at the kneeling woman.
"You wouldn't think it, but us Gerudo women know plenty of ways to pleasure a man, slave," Aveil continued, her lips still sending her breath to play against his erection. "We can be good to our little man-slave… if he submits himself to us."
"Good to our slave," one of the girls echoed.
And the other added, "Good to him and his good to his manhood too."
They giggled.
Aveil leaned just a bit closer to his stiffness and ran her tongue across her bottom lip. "Beg me, slave," she commanded. "Submit to us Gerudo women and beg me to take your cock in my mouth. Isn't that what you want?"
"You do want it, don't you?"
"Want us to pleasure you?"
"Want us to enslave you?"
Aveil pursed her lips and lifted her hands to hover just around the shaft of his erection. They lingered their, fingers writhing, eager to take hold of him and have their way. "Well? Do you submit to us?"
Link closed his eyes. He could hear his heart trying to hammer out of his chest. Sweat dripped from the itchy leather that his skin had become. His breathing came in strange patterns. His body, unfortunately, belonged to the Gerudo then… but his mind was still his own. He shook his head. "No. I don't submit. And I… I don't want this. Any of this." He opened his eyes and stared down into Aveil's. "I want… to go free."
All at once, Aveil's entire facade melted away, and the only thing left staring up at Link on her knees before him was a furious, indignant, woman who'd been denied her victory.
"I told you, fool-of-a-girl," a husky voice came from the opposite end of the room.
Link lifted his head to see the Gerudo women's leader, Jolene, leaned against the window ledge with her arms folded nonchalantly across her chest. He hadn't even noticed her enter the room.
"Jo!" Aveil wailed. "I needed just a few more minutes with the prisoner and I could have-"
"Oh, hold your tongue, girl, and save us both the time," Jo interjected with a roll of her eyes. "I told you this one wouldn't be broken so easily. It doesn't matter if I give you the rest of the night to try and pry a submission out of him, you won't get it." The Gerudo leader's eyes narrowed maliciously on Aveil's. "Maybe you're just not pretty enough for him, sweetheart."
Aveil's face reddened with what might have been anger or chagrin; Link could not tell. She barred her teeth and clambered up off her knees to spin on Jolene, but when she looked ready to shout her protest, the Gerudo leader lifted a hand to halt her.
"Enough, Aveil. I gave you your chance. Now go back to camp and cool yourself down before I lock you up in chains for the night, too."
Aveil pouted. "But's it's not fair to-"
"Aveil!" Jolene snapped, and her strict tone shut the other woman up fast.
Aveil looked briefly back at Link, pouting like a spoiled child who was being sent to their room, and then stormed across the cell, passing Jolene without so much as a glance, and disappeared into the hall outside.
"Are you other two waiting for a scolding as well, or can you figure out what to do without it?" Jo questioned of the remained Gerudo girls.
They were quick to drop their eyes to their feet and shuffle out of the room after Aveil, muttering apologies to Jolene as they passed her.
When they were alone, Jo fixed her eyes on Link and shook her head in what might have been amusement. "I knew you wouldn't fall for that little game of theirs. I knew it, and yet I let them take their shot." She lifted from the window's ledge and sauntered across the cell with her arms folded over her chest and her ponytail bobbing along behind her head. "Do you know why, prisoner?"
Link was still settling himself, returning his breathing to normal, stilling his pounding heart. He shook his head.
"I let them try to satiate them for a little while," Jolene explained, coming to a slow halt in front of Link's locked-up position. "You see, my girls and I are a subversive and unruly bunch, prisoner. We broke off from our main pack a few months ago and came out here," she lifted her hands to the walls and looked back towards the window peeking out into the desert night, "to live free and on our own. I led them girls from our old camp, and I led them well. It's why they listen to me and why they respect me." She stepped closer and hooked her index finger up under Link's chin to hold the line of his eyes with her own. "But listen to me now, prisoner, I can only wrangle the obedience from them for short periods of time. They'll stay away from you because I tell them to… for now. But their hunger for you and… for this," she reached down for his cock, held it a moment, and then casually lifted his breeches and tucked it back inside them, "that hunger of theirs can't be so easily tamed. They want you. And they'll have you before long."
Link swallowed into his dry throat. "Then let me go."
Jolene smiled patronizingly. "The only way you're leaving this camp, prisoner, is by defeating me in combat. And you'll get your chance at that, rest assured. Tomorrow at high noon. But listen to my words… if you refuse to submit again, you'll only be dragged back in here and locked up nice and tight and helpless. My girls… they might stay away for a little while. But should this drag on another night after that? Or a night after that?" She shook her head. "They're going to take you, prisoner… all of you. Do you understand me?"
Link stared.
Jolene held his stare. "If you submit to me tomorrow in front of all my girls… I will promise you decent treatment as my slave. You'll rub my back and feet when I desire it and you'll tend to my horse and you'll make my dinners. On the occasion, I might require you to ride out with me and hunt. Doesn't sound so bad, does it? But if you don't submit yourself to me?" She gestured back over her shoulder. "My girls are going to get awfully restless, and I won't be able to offer my… protection. Do you understand?"
"If I defeat you tomorrow, you'll really let me go?" Link asked.
Jolene squinted. "You won't defeat me, prisoner. Don't make me send you unconscious again. Submit…. submit, and this will work out for you better than any other way it possibly could. Don't… and the vultures will descend upon you before long."
The two stared quietly into each other's eyes. A cool breeze trickled through the far wall's opening.
"We'll see what happens tomorrow, I suppose," Link told her.
Jolene nodded. "Suppose we will."
She retied the gag into his mouth and checked his chains before leaving him. At the cell door, she pulled a cup of water from an alcove and doused the torch flames, sending the room into darkness. When the bars of his prison slammed shut, Link's gaze drifted out into the canvas of indigo sky above the rolling shadowed hills that was the desert at night. He watched the stars awhile, wondering when he'd ride free beneath them again atop Epona.
Before long, his chin lowered to his chest, and he slept.
He dreamed of a pack of vultures with colorful silk veils around their beaks, circling him, watching… and waiting.