Chapter Thirty

‘Knaala at my feet, Child.’

Ronnie knelt, spread her thighs apart, and placed the palms of her hands on her thighs. Her pussy lips felt gloriously sensitised and sore. Theo nodded for her to start reciting the sacred Bonding words.

‘With a free mind and open heart I, Ronnie Weaver, request that you, my Learned and Destaurian Guard, rightfully and judicially accept the submission of my will unto yours and take me into your care and guidance however you see fit.’

He nodded, and looked down with pride written over his face as she knelt before him, tears of happiness in her eyes.

‘What do you offer me in exchange, girl?’

‘I promise to satisfy your wants, desires and whims, which are consistent with my desire as your Child of Destiny to be found pleasing to you,’ she said, with a slight shakiness to her voice. She hoped her nerves were not showing because she might forget her lines, the last thing she wanted to do during the locking of the Collar of Commitment around her neck. It meant too much to both of them for her to mess it up.

‘How do you propose to do that?’ Theo asked sternly.

‘To give you the use of my time, talents and abilities as one of the owned, devoted and fully committed to only you, my Learned.’

‘Girl, as a Child of Destiny, a host for Hope, do you accept the power vested in my role, and the keeping of your body for the fulfilment and enhancement of my sexual, spiritual, emotional and intellectual needs?’

‘I do, my Learned,’ she nodded. ‘I request that you guide me in any sexual behaviour, both together with, and separate from you, in such a way as to further my growth as your subservient property; your Child of Destiny.’ Ronnie paused to wipe a stray tear from her eye, took a deep breath and carried on. ‘My Learned, I beg of you to make use of me. Mould me, shape me, assist me to grow in strength, character, confidence and being.’

He smiled, and looked deep into her grey eyes. ‘Do you accept your irrevocable surrender as my property, with sincere humility and understanding, that you will always belong to me, unless I choose otherwise?’

‘This, I Ronnie Weaver, do entreat with lucidity, and the realisation of what this means, both stated and implied, in the conviction that my offer will be understood in the spirit of Hope and Devotion in which it is given.’ She swallowed and blinked back another tear, trying hard not to burst into tears in front of all the witnesses.

‘No other man shall own or touch me, unless your permission is granted or you give me away, my Learned.’

If he ever washed his hands of her and gave her away to someone else to keep, she swore she would never survive.

‘Very well. I accept your offer of complete surrender, which under Destaurian law shall serve as your contract of consent and bind us together.’ He looked over to Artemis. ‘The collar.’

In her hands Artemis held a plush, red velvet pillow, on which sat a steel band set with an amethyst gemstone in the centre. He picked it up, opened the ring at the hinge, and walked round behind Ronnie.

‘In recognition of our bond, my ownership, and the attachment between us, I lock this Collar of Commitment around your neck to signify your permanent place in my life as your Guardian, and owner. May it serve as a powerful reminder of the control you have surrendered to me as my Child of Destiny - my property.’ Cold metal touched her skin, and snapped shut with a satisfying click.

She shut her eyes for a couple of seconds and smiled, wanting to remember this part, lock it away into her memory for the rest of her life.

‘Locked in place the Collar of Commitment will keep you within your bond and exclude all others’ powers over you. If anyone tries to come between us I will destroy them. I hereby declare in front all every witness in this room, and in accordance to Destaurian Law, you are now mine.’ He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. ‘Mine,’ he repeated with a breathless voice, which made her pussy quiver.

‘A toast to my Bonded, my Child of Destiny!’ Theo said, taking a glass of Ambrosia from Artemis. He raised his drink to the audience; first those seated around the stage and then up to those in the galleries. Then he turned to his newly bonded, held up his glass and said, ‘To Ronnie! May you Live and Die by the SWORD’s Code of Honour!’

To which every Destaurian in the room chanted in unison, ‘Serve! Worship! Obey! Respect! Defend!’ And the Bonding Hall, to Ronnie’s amazement, erupted with cheers and whistles drowning out anything they tried to say to each other from thereon. The noise was deafening but Ronnie didn’t care, for amidst all the commotion she just looked up at her Guardian and smiled, happy in the knowledge that whatever had gone on in her past would be revealed as and when, and if her Bonded should allow her to delve into it. Until then none of that mattered any more for locked tight, and resting gently around her throat, was the cold steel Collar of Commitment. Finally the honour of being truly his, by law, was hers.