Cold, bitter wind rushed through Sara's rain-drenched hair. Around her was nothing but empty ground turning to mud around her bare feet, darkness in the horizon, and a heavy rain in her face. She was wearing a bronze chestplate and an armored skirt, a sword in her hand.
She easily recognized the sinister, savage face of Henrik Rasgoz as he stepped out of the darkness, clad not too differently than he'd been that horrible night. Sara brought her sword up and howled angrily the first moment she saw his smile, knowing it as the same one he had when he had finished hurting her.
A weapon appeared in his hand, another sword, and he used it to deflect the couple of blows she tried to land on him before he knocked the sword away with a single swipe. A push with his free hand sent Sara onto her back on what now felt like a rug. Something kept her from moving, making her feel restrained while Henrik's sword sliced through her armor. He pulled it away and Sara saw she was nude underneath. She developed tears in her eyes as he forced her legs apart. Then he sword between her legs and said, "This belongs to me now." It had been the same thing he had said after he had raped her.
Sara didn't give him the chance to strike with the sword or anything else. She just leapt up, screaming in fright. And she found she was still naked, but instead of being on rough, muddy ground she was laying on a comfortable mattress with a fine silk cover sheet and another sheet of the same kind above her. Sara looked down at her body and saw where her wounds from the wolf and the horsemen were all stitched up. Breathing heavy, she laid her head back and was pleased to find a pillow filled with soft down. Not just one pillow, as when Sara looked in either direction she found other pillows. She looked back up at the ceiling and saw it was a fine marble material, like something out of a grand European palace, with pillars of fine ivory and an amusingly risque fresco of two angels making love.
The sound of a door opening made Sara's head turn to the right, where she saw the nice white wood-paneled door open. A young tan-skinned woman came through, wearing a silk white skirt that flowed down to her knees and a transparent silk sash around her breasts. Around the girl's neck was a necklace with a stylized K ornmanet, which dangled in her cleavage. A shorter necklace which didn't go below the shoulder blades had a golden set of manacles on them, and Sara was all too sure of what those meant. "My Lady, are you okay?"
"I'm fine, I'm fine." Sara stood from the bed, a little embarrassed to be butt naked in front of a stranger. "Where are my clothes?"
The girl fell to a knee. "His Majesty has set aside a new ward robe for you, m'lady. It is in the closet and the dresser behind you."
"You can stand up, you know. And I take it you're a..... slave?" Sara nearly spit the last word out.
"Oh yes, my Lady. I am Helena, a Slave of the King."
"And this is....?"
"You are in the Palace of Kalunda, my Lady."
"My name is Sara, you can call me that."
"Very well, Lady Sara."
Sara sighed at that. "So, what is it you're here for?"
"His Majesty ordered me to be your ladyservant during your stay," Helena explained. "I am here to attend to your every need and pleasure."
"Pleasure?"
"Yes, Lady Sara." Helena smiled happily. "I can be your partner in the Palace's Pleasure Yard or I can help you try the Dungeon of Love. Or we can have sex here in this room, if you prefer to be private with your fantasies."
Sara merely stared at her for a moment. The offer was not something she'd accept, though she did have to admit she was more inclined toward sex with Helena than Martina. That had more to do with what Martina was than anything else, though. "That won't be necessary, Helena."
"Oh." The girl seemed crestfallen.
"What's wrong?"
"If you'll excuse me saying so, Lady Sara..."
Sara was losing her patience. "I already asked what was wrong."
"I wanted to have sex with you, Lady Sara," Helena admitted openly. "I find you very beautiful and I admire your strength."
Sara tried not to break out laughing at the girl's admission. She did ask, "My strength?"
"You killed three Stirlins, Lady Sara," Helena said with awe. "And you escaped from the Normans!"
Sara's expression soured since she didn't want anyone to know about that. Martina must have been running her mouth. Or at least that was her first thought before Sara remembered that the slave tattoo placed on her thigh hadn't yet washed out. "I take it that's pretty rare?"
"You are the first we have known to escape Norman slavery." Helena kept her head up while Sara walked up to her. "We all fear the Normans. The Normans are not nice to their slaves, not like our Kalundan brothers."
"Oh?" Sara thought of something and found herself asking, "You refer to your 'Kalundan brothers' like they're your masters. Are only men allowed to own slaves in Kalunda?"
"Oh, no Lady Sara. Women can own them too. But, most women in Kalunda are slaves anyway."
Sara had remembered what Martina had said about the Kalundans, but she was still surprised to hear that. "Why?"
Helena stared at her blankly. "Because women are natural slaves." Helena noticed Sara's increasing anger and meekly added. "That is why, Lady Sara, I wanted to bring you to the Dungeon. I.... I wanted to show you the pleasure in being a slave."
Sara said no more after that, not wanting to terrify the girl with rage. She merely ordered Helena out in a calm, neutral tone and went to the closet to get clothes, determined to leave Kalunda as soon as she humanly could.
"The Road to Hell": Potential Original Sci-Fi Univ
Moderator: LadyTevar
”A Radical is a man with both feet planted firmly in the air.” – Franklin Delano Roosevelt
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
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There was a quaint air to the Kalundan palace, Sara found. Made of marble, ivory, and limestone, the designer seemed to have had the Taj Mahal in mind. Beautiful frescos and murals covered the walls. It boggled Sara's mind to how much the palace might have cost to build, even if had used modern day construction technology. For a primitivist society, the Kalundans seemed to be rather wealthy.
She was less enthused over what she'd been provided to wear. She had been given a couple of formal suits and some normal ones, but they were all rather immodest. Not a single one of them covered her belly, and quite a number emphasized her cleavage. It was as if the only thing women wore in Kalunda were halter tops and bras. She had finally chosen some of the white silks to wear. A white skirt that was calf-length and tied at her waist combined with a strapless top that was, essentially, a sash that wrapped around her breasts and the upper half of her stomach. At the very least it covered her cleavage, though Sara realized it emphasized her breasts more than she would have preferred.
It was still, she supposed, a better suit that some of the slaves had. She had seen a couple of the other slave girls of the palace while Helena had been showing her the residential wing. They were clad in the same kind of dress as Helena, with differing colors.
As they left the guest chambers, Sara asked Helena, "Where do you sleep?"
"In the slave quarters, Lady Sara."
"Do any slaves get their own rooms?"
"The older ones do." Helena brought Sara down a flight of stairs to the bottom floor. It too appeared to be composed of residential suites. As they came around the corner Sara heard some giggling coming from another corridor. She and Helena turned another corner toward what Sara imagined to be the "center" of the Palace. The source of the giggling was soon obvious. Martina was walking ahead off her, a slave girl to her front and rear. Martina wasn't even dressed save for the loin-cloth at her waist, and her hands were bound behind her back by a silk cord. Curious despite herself, Sara picked up her pace a bit and was followed by Helena. "Martina!"
Martina turned, prompting the girls with her to do the same. They were not dressed as Helena was, Sara realized. One, a half-Asian and half-Caucasian girl, was as undressed as Martina, while the other girl - who was brown-skinned - had a suit that was essentially a band that went from her neck down to between her legs and back up on the other side. "Sara, good to see you're finally awake!"
Sara nodded. And then, again being too curious, she asked, "What are you doing?"
"Oh." Martina smiled one of her "sexy" smiles. "Erosia and Venusa here decided I've been a very bad girl, and they're taking me to the Dungeon to punish me. Aren't you girls?"
"Oh yes, Lady Martina." The brown-skinned girl, which Sara presumed to be Erosia, smiled sweetly and patted Martina's hip. "We will punish you very harshly."
Sara shook her head, making Martina laugh. "Oh, come on, Sara. I know you enough that there's a little Calvinist girl deep inside you who wants to be punished for her bad, horrible sins. Why not let Venusa do it? Or the girl with you? All of the girls here are experienced in this kind of thing."
It was the haughty nature of Martina's tone that told Sara all she needed to know. Martina no longer needed her to survive. She couldn't expect friendly treatment from Martina anymore. Finally, to answer Martina, Sara sighed and remarked, "You are the most disgusting woman I've ever known." She then turned and walked off, with Helena following. Martina shrugged and let the girls drag her off to be "punished".
"Lady Sara, if I may ask...."
"No you may not."
Helena nodded submissively and continued to show Sara about. The courtyard of the Palace was beautiful, filled with small trees and rose bushes, flower beds, and stone paths with sitting benches placed in the shade of the trees or near the fountains, which were all beautifully sculpted. Sara thought the entire thing was rather beautiful while she strolled through.
Stepping into one corner of the park, Sara took a turn through some grass hedges and stopped at the sight before her while Helena came up behind her. "My Lady, this is the Pleasure Park."
The "Pleasure Park" was a small partition of the courtyard, sealed off from the rest by thick grass hedges. There were benches and chairs everywhere. Some of the benches had belts which Sara imagined were used to hold someone's wrists in, given the Kalundan fetish for bondage. She looked to the center of the park and found a raised circular dais with a pole in the middle, at the top of which was placed a pentagon shaped object. Each side of the pentagon had a pair of metal manacles hanging down from them. Sara saw that two were occupied by naked girls, wearing only a slave necklace. "Why hasn't anyone let them loose?"
"They're not supposed to be." Helena looked at them. "Rose and Magni are First Tri slaves. They are placed here daily for the use of others."
Sara's head whipped over to face Helena's. "What?! That's crazy! What if they don't want to have sex?!"
Helena seemed confused at first. "Not have sex? Um... why would they not want to? Slaves love to have sex. We live every day for it. To be forbidden from sex is punishment."
Sara opened her mouth to reply and decided it'd be better not to. She did the only thing she really could by turning and walking out of the Pleasure Park.
After the courtyard came a brief visit to the Main Gate of the Palace, and from there Helena took Sara back to the main building. They came up to the third floor's open-air ball room, which was currently empty save for a couple of slaves cleaning the floor. Helena brought Sara to the railing so she could see outward from the palace.
Sara looked out upon the City of Kalunda and was quite surprised. It was humble but large, with many one and two stories buildings laid out from the palace off toward the distance. Sara couldn't see where the city ended at first, until she noticed the walls in the distance. "The city is walled?"
"Yes, to protect it from raiders and enemies," Helena said. "Outside of the walls are our city's farms and silkworm ranches. The silk we wear is all from our homeland, and it is the most prized silk in the East."
Sara nodded slowly and looked back out over the sprawling city for a few moments. As she did, another girl walked up to them. She was Asian, with short dark hair and a petite, cute body; a thin band of green silk held and covered her small breasts while another covered her hips. "My Lady, His Majesty wishes to see you."
Drawing in a breath, Sara stepped away from the rail and nodded. Well, time to see what my benefactor is like, she decided, feeling a sense of distaste in her stomach from the forboding sense that this was not going to end well.
She was less enthused over what she'd been provided to wear. She had been given a couple of formal suits and some normal ones, but they were all rather immodest. Not a single one of them covered her belly, and quite a number emphasized her cleavage. It was as if the only thing women wore in Kalunda were halter tops and bras. She had finally chosen some of the white silks to wear. A white skirt that was calf-length and tied at her waist combined with a strapless top that was, essentially, a sash that wrapped around her breasts and the upper half of her stomach. At the very least it covered her cleavage, though Sara realized it emphasized her breasts more than she would have preferred.
It was still, she supposed, a better suit that some of the slaves had. She had seen a couple of the other slave girls of the palace while Helena had been showing her the residential wing. They were clad in the same kind of dress as Helena, with differing colors.
As they left the guest chambers, Sara asked Helena, "Where do you sleep?"
"In the slave quarters, Lady Sara."
"Do any slaves get their own rooms?"
"The older ones do." Helena brought Sara down a flight of stairs to the bottom floor. It too appeared to be composed of residential suites. As they came around the corner Sara heard some giggling coming from another corridor. She and Helena turned another corner toward what Sara imagined to be the "center" of the Palace. The source of the giggling was soon obvious. Martina was walking ahead off her, a slave girl to her front and rear. Martina wasn't even dressed save for the loin-cloth at her waist, and her hands were bound behind her back by a silk cord. Curious despite herself, Sara picked up her pace a bit and was followed by Helena. "Martina!"
Martina turned, prompting the girls with her to do the same. They were not dressed as Helena was, Sara realized. One, a half-Asian and half-Caucasian girl, was as undressed as Martina, while the other girl - who was brown-skinned - had a suit that was essentially a band that went from her neck down to between her legs and back up on the other side. "Sara, good to see you're finally awake!"
Sara nodded. And then, again being too curious, she asked, "What are you doing?"
"Oh." Martina smiled one of her "sexy" smiles. "Erosia and Venusa here decided I've been a very bad girl, and they're taking me to the Dungeon to punish me. Aren't you girls?"
"Oh yes, Lady Martina." The brown-skinned girl, which Sara presumed to be Erosia, smiled sweetly and patted Martina's hip. "We will punish you very harshly."
Sara shook her head, making Martina laugh. "Oh, come on, Sara. I know you enough that there's a little Calvinist girl deep inside you who wants to be punished for her bad, horrible sins. Why not let Venusa do it? Or the girl with you? All of the girls here are experienced in this kind of thing."
It was the haughty nature of Martina's tone that told Sara all she needed to know. Martina no longer needed her to survive. She couldn't expect friendly treatment from Martina anymore. Finally, to answer Martina, Sara sighed and remarked, "You are the most disgusting woman I've ever known." She then turned and walked off, with Helena following. Martina shrugged and let the girls drag her off to be "punished".
"Lady Sara, if I may ask...."
"No you may not."
Helena nodded submissively and continued to show Sara about. The courtyard of the Palace was beautiful, filled with small trees and rose bushes, flower beds, and stone paths with sitting benches placed in the shade of the trees or near the fountains, which were all beautifully sculpted. Sara thought the entire thing was rather beautiful while she strolled through.
Stepping into one corner of the park, Sara took a turn through some grass hedges and stopped at the sight before her while Helena came up behind her. "My Lady, this is the Pleasure Park."
The "Pleasure Park" was a small partition of the courtyard, sealed off from the rest by thick grass hedges. There were benches and chairs everywhere. Some of the benches had belts which Sara imagined were used to hold someone's wrists in, given the Kalundan fetish for bondage. She looked to the center of the park and found a raised circular dais with a pole in the middle, at the top of which was placed a pentagon shaped object. Each side of the pentagon had a pair of metal manacles hanging down from them. Sara saw that two were occupied by naked girls, wearing only a slave necklace. "Why hasn't anyone let them loose?"
"They're not supposed to be." Helena looked at them. "Rose and Magni are First Tri slaves. They are placed here daily for the use of others."
Sara's head whipped over to face Helena's. "What?! That's crazy! What if they don't want to have sex?!"
Helena seemed confused at first. "Not have sex? Um... why would they not want to? Slaves love to have sex. We live every day for it. To be forbidden from sex is punishment."
Sara opened her mouth to reply and decided it'd be better not to. She did the only thing she really could by turning and walking out of the Pleasure Park.
After the courtyard came a brief visit to the Main Gate of the Palace, and from there Helena took Sara back to the main building. They came up to the third floor's open-air ball room, which was currently empty save for a couple of slaves cleaning the floor. Helena brought Sara to the railing so she could see outward from the palace.
Sara looked out upon the City of Kalunda and was quite surprised. It was humble but large, with many one and two stories buildings laid out from the palace off toward the distance. Sara couldn't see where the city ended at first, until she noticed the walls in the distance. "The city is walled?"
"Yes, to protect it from raiders and enemies," Helena said. "Outside of the walls are our city's farms and silkworm ranches. The silk we wear is all from our homeland, and it is the most prized silk in the East."
Sara nodded slowly and looked back out over the sprawling city for a few moments. As she did, another girl walked up to them. She was Asian, with short dark hair and a petite, cute body; a thin band of green silk held and covered her small breasts while another covered her hips. "My Lady, His Majesty wishes to see you."
Drawing in a breath, Sara stepped away from the rail and nodded. Well, time to see what my benefactor is like, she decided, feeling a sense of distaste in her stomach from the forboding sense that this was not going to end well.
”A Radical is a man with both feet planted firmly in the air.” – Franklin Delano Roosevelt
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
Helena led Sara back to the ground floor and to the very center of the palace. Once through a pair of large ivory doors, flanked by halberdiers in velvet clothing and ceremonial armor, Sara finally met the King of Kalunda. Helena led her up to about fifteen feet away from his throne and then dropped to her knees and bowed low enough that her forehead touched the floor. Sara, not sure what to do, decided to give a polite courtsy. She then faced the King and waited for him to speak.
The King was a younger man, athletically built and rather handsome. He had a light tanned complexion, brown eyes, and dark brown hair. His clothes were a silk robe of violet purple and trousers of matching color, with gold fibers woven into both. To his right on the throne was another girl with a slave necklace, her silks those of the same color of the King's clothes. The King's first question was simple and to the point. "Your name is Sara?"
"Sara Proctor, Your Majesty."
"You needn't address me like that, Sara." The King smiled at her and stood up. "Only slaves call me Majesty anyway. And you're not a slave."
Sara got a chill up her back from her imagining "Yet" at the end of that sentence.
"My name is Julio," he said. "You'd probably call me Julio IV, but I don't care for being the fourth." He walked up to Sara and took her right hand with his. She did not stop him from lifting her knuckle to his lips for a respectful kiss. "Thank you, dear Sara. Your bravery is unmatched in the East."
"I'm happy I saved you and your friends, Julio."
He smiled at her use of his name. "The Stirlins will not be back for some time. Kalunda's borders are again safe. Thanks, again, to you."
"You're certainly exaggerating."
"Oh, but I am not." Julio's eyes were twinkling as he continued to smile at her. "Can I have dinner with you tonight? I wish to learn more about you. How you escaped the Normans and came to be here."
Taken off guard for a moment, Sara nodded in agreement. "Oh, well, certainly, King Julio."
"Excellent. And, if you don't mind me asking, please wear the red silk provided to you. It suits you."
Sara nodded, even if she wasn't liking how the King was looking at her. "When is dinner tonight?"
"About seven o'clock," was the answer. "Helena will explain to you how time is kept here."
"Then I'll see you there."
Julio turned to Helena. "Helena, have you shown Lady Sara around?"
"She has seen much of the palace, Your Majesty," Helena replied.
"Then show her the rest. Take her to the bath and give her anything she desires."
"Of course, Master."
"See you tonight at dinner, Sara," Julio said before returning to his throne. Sara curtsied again in respect and walked out with Helena behind her. After they had walked a short distance from the throne room, Sara looked to Helena.
"Where's my horse?"
The King was a younger man, athletically built and rather handsome. He had a light tanned complexion, brown eyes, and dark brown hair. His clothes were a silk robe of violet purple and trousers of matching color, with gold fibers woven into both. To his right on the throne was another girl with a slave necklace, her silks those of the same color of the King's clothes. The King's first question was simple and to the point. "Your name is Sara?"
"Sara Proctor, Your Majesty."
"You needn't address me like that, Sara." The King smiled at her and stood up. "Only slaves call me Majesty anyway. And you're not a slave."
Sara got a chill up her back from her imagining "Yet" at the end of that sentence.
"My name is Julio," he said. "You'd probably call me Julio IV, but I don't care for being the fourth." He walked up to Sara and took her right hand with his. She did not stop him from lifting her knuckle to his lips for a respectful kiss. "Thank you, dear Sara. Your bravery is unmatched in the East."
"I'm happy I saved you and your friends, Julio."
He smiled at her use of his name. "The Stirlins will not be back for some time. Kalunda's borders are again safe. Thanks, again, to you."
"You're certainly exaggerating."
"Oh, but I am not." Julio's eyes were twinkling as he continued to smile at her. "Can I have dinner with you tonight? I wish to learn more about you. How you escaped the Normans and came to be here."
Taken off guard for a moment, Sara nodded in agreement. "Oh, well, certainly, King Julio."
"Excellent. And, if you don't mind me asking, please wear the red silk provided to you. It suits you."
Sara nodded, even if she wasn't liking how the King was looking at her. "When is dinner tonight?"
"About seven o'clock," was the answer. "Helena will explain to you how time is kept here."
"Then I'll see you there."
Julio turned to Helena. "Helena, have you shown Lady Sara around?"
"She has seen much of the palace, Your Majesty," Helena replied.
"Then show her the rest. Take her to the bath and give her anything she desires."
"Of course, Master."
"See you tonight at dinner, Sara," Julio said before returning to his throne. Sara curtsied again in respect and walked out with Helena behind her. After they had walked a short distance from the throne room, Sara looked to Helena.
"Where's my horse?"
Off to the rear of the palace, on the same side as the guest rooms, the Palace Stables were located. There were a number of horses inside, including the King's horse. Helena led Sara to it, taking her over the small cobblestone walk between the Palace proper and the stable building. As they walked by, Sara noticed a vent nearby in the ground. It seemed out of place, almost modern in how it was constructed. Before she could ask Helena about it, the slave girl had entered the stable.
It was in a stable near the entrance that Sara found her mount. Her horse was being brushed by a young tan-skinned woman with long dark hair. She had a slave necklace too, but she didn't wear silk at all but what looked to be a simple sleeveless cotton blouse and knee length pants, both black colored. Sara walked up to the stable and got the attention of the slave. "So here he is." Sara put a hand on the horse's head. "Here's my handsome horse."
After the horse snorted lightly, the girl chuckled. "He suits you, my Lady. What's his name?"
"Name?" Sara blushed a little and whispered, "I didn't give him one yet."
"Oh?" She bowed her head. "If you don't mind, my Lady, might I recommend a name?"
"Go ahead."
"You should call him Brego. It's the name of a hero's horse from a story book my father read to me when I was little." The young woman patted the horse's neck. "It fits, doesn't it?"
"You like it? Then it's yours." Sara looked at the stable girl and said, "Can I have your name?"
"My name is Ambrosia, my Lady."
"You can call me Sara."
"Yes, Lady Sara."
Sara scowled and let out a sigh. "You don't have to add the first part. Just 'Sara' will do."
Ambrosia smiled at her. "Slaves aren't allowed to address free people by their first names alone," she replied. "My apologies, Lady Sara."
Sara rolled her eyes at that. Still, Ambrosia seemed less timid and subservient than Helena. "If I may, why aren't you wearing silk? Is it because you work the stables?"
"More than that, Lady Sara." Ambrosia went back to work brushing Brego's hair. "My plain clothes mark me as unservile. I am also forbidden from having sex."
"Why?"
"I said no to sex on too many occasions in my Second Tri. So when my Third Tri came, the First Slave ordered my silks taken and barred me from sex." Ambrosia kept her attention on her duty. "It is a harsh punishment, but one I have carried as well as I can."
Sara moved around Brego and knelt beside Ambrosia. "I do not quite understand your ways, but I see you have been treated badly. Doesn't your law allow you to say no and to choose freedom?"
"It allows us to say no, yes Lady Sara, but it doesn't say we won't suffer consequences for saying no." Ambrosia's brown eyes had some anger in them that Sara hadn't noticed before. "As for being free? By our law, a woman must be a slave for nine years. Until she has been through three Tris. I am in my third. I intend to accept freedom when it is over."
Sara nodded at that. Remembering what was outside, Sara now asked Ambrosia, "Why is there a vent in the back of the Palace?"
Smirking at Helena, who was clearly not liking the way things were going in the discussion, Ambrosia answered, "It is to the Dungeon of Love, Lady Sara. It is built beneath the Palace."
"What's it for? Why is it called the Dungeon of Love?"
"Because it is where slaves are taken to be conditioned and punished." Ambrosia looked at Sara again. "Can I might make a suggestion to you, Lady Sara?"
"What?"
"Leave." Ambrosia's expression was cold. "Leave as quickly as you can and do not turn back. If you do not leave, then one day you too will visit the Dungeon. It will make you a slave, and you will never want to be free again."
It was in a stable near the entrance that Sara found her mount. Her horse was being brushed by a young tan-skinned woman with long dark hair. She had a slave necklace too, but she didn't wear silk at all but what looked to be a simple sleeveless cotton blouse and knee length pants, both black colored. Sara walked up to the stable and got the attention of the slave. "So here he is." Sara put a hand on the horse's head. "Here's my handsome horse."
After the horse snorted lightly, the girl chuckled. "He suits you, my Lady. What's his name?"
"Name?" Sara blushed a little and whispered, "I didn't give him one yet."
"Oh?" She bowed her head. "If you don't mind, my Lady, might I recommend a name?"
"Go ahead."
"You should call him Brego. It's the name of a hero's horse from a story book my father read to me when I was little." The young woman patted the horse's neck. "It fits, doesn't it?"
"You like it? Then it's yours." Sara looked at the stable girl and said, "Can I have your name?"
"My name is Ambrosia, my Lady."
"You can call me Sara."
"Yes, Lady Sara."
Sara scowled and let out a sigh. "You don't have to add the first part. Just 'Sara' will do."
Ambrosia smiled at her. "Slaves aren't allowed to address free people by their first names alone," she replied. "My apologies, Lady Sara."
Sara rolled her eyes at that. Still, Ambrosia seemed less timid and subservient than Helena. "If I may, why aren't you wearing silk? Is it because you work the stables?"
"More than that, Lady Sara." Ambrosia went back to work brushing Brego's hair. "My plain clothes mark me as unservile. I am also forbidden from having sex."
"Why?"
"I said no to sex on too many occasions in my Second Tri. So when my Third Tri came, the First Slave ordered my silks taken and barred me from sex." Ambrosia kept her attention on her duty. "It is a harsh punishment, but one I have carried as well as I can."
Sara moved around Brego and knelt beside Ambrosia. "I do not quite understand your ways, but I see you have been treated badly. Doesn't your law allow you to say no and to choose freedom?"
"It allows us to say no, yes Lady Sara, but it doesn't say we won't suffer consequences for saying no." Ambrosia's brown eyes had some anger in them that Sara hadn't noticed before. "As for being free? By our law, a woman must be a slave for nine years. Until she has been through three Tris. I am in my third. I intend to accept freedom when it is over."
Sara nodded at that. Remembering what was outside, Sara now asked Ambrosia, "Why is there a vent in the back of the Palace?"
Smirking at Helena, who was clearly not liking the way things were going in the discussion, Ambrosia answered, "It is to the Dungeon of Love, Lady Sara. It is built beneath the Palace."
"What's it for? Why is it called the Dungeon of Love?"
"Because it is where slaves are taken to be conditioned and punished." Ambrosia looked at Sara again. "Can I might make a suggestion to you, Lady Sara?"
"What?"
"Leave." Ambrosia's expression was cold. "Leave as quickly as you can and do not turn back. If you do not leave, then one day you too will visit the Dungeon. It will make you a slave, and you will never want to be free again."
”A Radical is a man with both feet planted firmly in the air.” – Franklin Delano Roosevelt
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
-
darthdavid
- Pathetic Attention Whore
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- Joined: 2003-02-17 12:04pm
- Location: Bat Country!
With nothing else to do and a couple of hours before her planned dinner, Sara let Helena take her to the palace baths. They, like the stables, were not a part of the main building, but off to the right side between the outer garden of the palace and the walls seperating the palace from the rest of the city. There were a handful of occupants in the open, public baths. A few men, palace workers Sara presumed, were down on one side, and another was laying on a bench getting his back rubbed by an Asian slave girl in blue silks. Two other slave girls were seated with the men in the bath.
Heading to an empty corner, Sara noticed the men were looking at her as she stripped the silks off and slid into the bath. The water was warm and relaxing. She laid her head back against a cushion that Helena obediently provided. Helena stripped her own silks off and entered the pool beside Sara. "Lady Sara, do you wish me to give you a massage?"
"No."
"Is there anything I can do for you?"
"You can take a break, Helena, and enjoy the bath as much as I am." Sara smiled and laid her head back on the cushion. For the first time in a long time, Sara actually felt like she was enjoying herself. She looked over and saw Helena swimming into the middle of the bath. One of the men in the bath intercepted her, hooking an arm around her waist and pressing his mouth to her's. Helena seemed startled but quickly got into the spirit of things, letting the man pull her to the corner. Sara closed her eyes and didn't watch, quite certain of what was going to happen.
She rested for a while, ignoring various instances when she could hear the impassioned shouts of other women and men having sex. It seemed so awkward and disgraceful to her. But she was a stranger in a strange land, so all she could do was let them live as they pleased and hoped they reciprocated. Ambrosia's ominous warning didn't help with that, though. Sara was getting paranoid, and rightfully so given recent events in her life.
There was a stirring of water near her. Sara opened her eyes and looked over to see a nude middle-aged man settling into the bath beside her. She instinctively used her right hand to cover herself between her legs and her left arm to cover her breasts. The man looked over at her and laughed. "You can move your left arm," he said. "I've seen them before." When Sara gave him a quizzical look, he extended a hand. "Sara Proctor, I am Doctor Ezek Rastman. I pulled that Stirlin arrow out of your ribs."
Sara recognized the voice now and lowered her left arm, acknowledging his point. She used her hand to give him a handshake. He noticed her right hand staying in it's place and shook his head. "Young lady, you're not hiding anything that any man here hasn't already seen plenty of. Not on you, but it's not that different I'm sure."
"I'm sorry, it's habit."
"So I imagine." Rastman leaned a head back. "You're a brave young woman, you know. Julio's even thinking of granting you an estate. It'd be a violation of our laws, but he's already thinking up the argument in his mind."
"Violation of your laws? I take it you mean that I haven't been a slave?"
"Exactly."
Sara gave no visible reaction to that. But Rastman didn't need one to know what she was thinking. "Yes, I imagine you're rather upset with us. Had you been raised in Kalunda, you'd be in your Second Tri now, after spending your growing years eager for the necklace."
"Eager for it?!"
Rastman shrugged. "It is merely our way. Parents even encourage their daughters to refuse sex until their coming of age and enslavement."
Sara shook her head in bewilderment. "That's just sick. It's like some perversion of the place I grew up in."
"Oh? Where did you grow up?"
"I'm from New Plymouth. A non-tech township on New Salem." Sara looked back at him. "Women are subservient in our communities. We grow up, learning to cook and clean, then when we come of age we marry a good husband and make babies for him when he's not off serving in the militia. Our idea of a privileged life is to be the wife of a rich property owner or minister. Then young unmarried girls do most of our chores and all we have to do is the baby-making and child-raising."
Rastman laughed loudly. "Yes, that's not too different. Though I suppose your people had a different word for that kind of slavery. But you have to admit, the unbridled sexual lifestyle of a Kalundan slave girl makes for a more vibrant, enjoyable bondage than the monotonous chores of a Calvinist housewife."
"In all but detail, it's the same thing. Something I ran away from, Doctor."
Rastman held his hands up. "Yes, yes, I see." He looked away from her then. "Look over there, do you remember Lily?"
Sara looked past him to an Asian girl in blue silks holding an infant in one hand while watching a little boy play with some form of toy. "That's your nurse?"
"She's not just a nurse, my dear. She's my slave, and the mother of my children."
"But not your wife."
"Only free women marry. And few do. All are used to the idea of having as many sexual partners as they want." Rastman breathed in a sigh. "We still understand what love is, you know. Lily and I love one another. She has no desire to be free of me. It's just the way our people think. You consider it marriage, bondage of another kind. Limiting yourself to one partner. The same is true here, as I can forbid Lily from seeing other men or women, just like she'd be morally prevented if she were my wife in your world."
"But you have no such barrier. It's unequal."
Rastman shrugged. "I suppose. I'm not saying our ways are perfect. There are exceptions and they're very hard cases here in Kalunda. Maybe the only way in which we're better than the Normans is that we don't wage war on our neighbors and we don't rape our slaves for sport. But I've seen many societies, and they all have their problems without being monsters. Certainly you understand this."
"I do."
"Very good. Now, I was hoping that tomorrow you'd come to my offices so that I could give you a checkup. We finishing stitching closed your wounds with some of the tech equipment in the underground levels..."
"Underground levels?"
"The slaves call it the Dungeon, because that's where they go for their training and conditioning and, well, punishments. But we have a few other things down there than just that. It's where we keep the pieces of tech we're allowed to have."
"How do you power the tech?"
"We have devices that draw power from the sun. I believe you call them solar batteries. And because of our climate, we always have sunlight."
This entire society was becoming stranger and stranger by the minute for Sara. Finally she sat up, looking down to where Helena was playing with another girl in a sensual fashion. She then looked back to Rastman. "Doctor Rastman, thank you for everything. I'm sorry to go, but I have a dinner date with the King this evening."
"Oh, I understand perfectly. Have a good evening."
Sara nodded and turned to Helena. "Come along, Helena. I want to dry off and get ready."
"Yes, Lady Sara...."
Heading to an empty corner, Sara noticed the men were looking at her as she stripped the silks off and slid into the bath. The water was warm and relaxing. She laid her head back against a cushion that Helena obediently provided. Helena stripped her own silks off and entered the pool beside Sara. "Lady Sara, do you wish me to give you a massage?"
"No."
"Is there anything I can do for you?"
"You can take a break, Helena, and enjoy the bath as much as I am." Sara smiled and laid her head back on the cushion. For the first time in a long time, Sara actually felt like she was enjoying herself. She looked over and saw Helena swimming into the middle of the bath. One of the men in the bath intercepted her, hooking an arm around her waist and pressing his mouth to her's. Helena seemed startled but quickly got into the spirit of things, letting the man pull her to the corner. Sara closed her eyes and didn't watch, quite certain of what was going to happen.
She rested for a while, ignoring various instances when she could hear the impassioned shouts of other women and men having sex. It seemed so awkward and disgraceful to her. But she was a stranger in a strange land, so all she could do was let them live as they pleased and hoped they reciprocated. Ambrosia's ominous warning didn't help with that, though. Sara was getting paranoid, and rightfully so given recent events in her life.
There was a stirring of water near her. Sara opened her eyes and looked over to see a nude middle-aged man settling into the bath beside her. She instinctively used her right hand to cover herself between her legs and her left arm to cover her breasts. The man looked over at her and laughed. "You can move your left arm," he said. "I've seen them before." When Sara gave him a quizzical look, he extended a hand. "Sara Proctor, I am Doctor Ezek Rastman. I pulled that Stirlin arrow out of your ribs."
Sara recognized the voice now and lowered her left arm, acknowledging his point. She used her hand to give him a handshake. He noticed her right hand staying in it's place and shook his head. "Young lady, you're not hiding anything that any man here hasn't already seen plenty of. Not on you, but it's not that different I'm sure."
"I'm sorry, it's habit."
"So I imagine." Rastman leaned a head back. "You're a brave young woman, you know. Julio's even thinking of granting you an estate. It'd be a violation of our laws, but he's already thinking up the argument in his mind."
"Violation of your laws? I take it you mean that I haven't been a slave?"
"Exactly."
Sara gave no visible reaction to that. But Rastman didn't need one to know what she was thinking. "Yes, I imagine you're rather upset with us. Had you been raised in Kalunda, you'd be in your Second Tri now, after spending your growing years eager for the necklace."
"Eager for it?!"
Rastman shrugged. "It is merely our way. Parents even encourage their daughters to refuse sex until their coming of age and enslavement."
Sara shook her head in bewilderment. "That's just sick. It's like some perversion of the place I grew up in."
"Oh? Where did you grow up?"
"I'm from New Plymouth. A non-tech township on New Salem." Sara looked back at him. "Women are subservient in our communities. We grow up, learning to cook and clean, then when we come of age we marry a good husband and make babies for him when he's not off serving in the militia. Our idea of a privileged life is to be the wife of a rich property owner or minister. Then young unmarried girls do most of our chores and all we have to do is the baby-making and child-raising."
Rastman laughed loudly. "Yes, that's not too different. Though I suppose your people had a different word for that kind of slavery. But you have to admit, the unbridled sexual lifestyle of a Kalundan slave girl makes for a more vibrant, enjoyable bondage than the monotonous chores of a Calvinist housewife."
"In all but detail, it's the same thing. Something I ran away from, Doctor."
Rastman held his hands up. "Yes, yes, I see." He looked away from her then. "Look over there, do you remember Lily?"
Sara looked past him to an Asian girl in blue silks holding an infant in one hand while watching a little boy play with some form of toy. "That's your nurse?"
"She's not just a nurse, my dear. She's my slave, and the mother of my children."
"But not your wife."
"Only free women marry. And few do. All are used to the idea of having as many sexual partners as they want." Rastman breathed in a sigh. "We still understand what love is, you know. Lily and I love one another. She has no desire to be free of me. It's just the way our people think. You consider it marriage, bondage of another kind. Limiting yourself to one partner. The same is true here, as I can forbid Lily from seeing other men or women, just like she'd be morally prevented if she were my wife in your world."
"But you have no such barrier. It's unequal."
Rastman shrugged. "I suppose. I'm not saying our ways are perfect. There are exceptions and they're very hard cases here in Kalunda. Maybe the only way in which we're better than the Normans is that we don't wage war on our neighbors and we don't rape our slaves for sport. But I've seen many societies, and they all have their problems without being monsters. Certainly you understand this."
"I do."
"Very good. Now, I was hoping that tomorrow you'd come to my offices so that I could give you a checkup. We finishing stitching closed your wounds with some of the tech equipment in the underground levels..."
"Underground levels?"
"The slaves call it the Dungeon, because that's where they go for their training and conditioning and, well, punishments. But we have a few other things down there than just that. It's where we keep the pieces of tech we're allowed to have."
"How do you power the tech?"
"We have devices that draw power from the sun. I believe you call them solar batteries. And because of our climate, we always have sunlight."
This entire society was becoming stranger and stranger by the minute for Sara. Finally she sat up, looking down to where Helena was playing with another girl in a sensual fashion. She then looked back to Rastman. "Doctor Rastman, thank you for everything. I'm sorry to go, but I have a dinner date with the King this evening."
"Oh, I understand perfectly. Have a good evening."
Sara nodded and turned to Helena. "Come along, Helena. I want to dry off and get ready."
"Yes, Lady Sara...."
”A Radical is a man with both feet planted firmly in the air.” – Franklin Delano Roosevelt
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
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Mopeyennuui
- Padawan Learner
- Posts: 222
- Joined: 2004-09-24 04:35am
- Contact:
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CaptainChewbacca
- Browncoat Wookiee
- Posts: 15746
- Joined: 2003-05-06 02:36am
- Location: Deep beneath Boatmurdered.
Then why the fuck are you taking time to complain about how you don't like it. Keep it up, Steve.Zerg Goddess wrote:Dont give a shit. about this uni.
Stuart: The only problem is, I'm losing track of which universe I'm in.
You kinda look like Jesus. With a lightsaber.- Peregrin Toker
You kinda look like Jesus. With a lightsaber.- Peregrin Toker
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darthdavid
- Pathetic Attention Whore
- Posts: 5470
- Joined: 2003-02-17 12:04pm
- Location: Bat Country!
After briefly looking at what I'd added, I decided I could toss in a line and effectively have a complete scene to post. So.... here it is.
The red silks Julio had asked Sara to wear were more modest than Sara imagined they would be when she originally looked at them. The top piece was a bodice which covered her breasts, though not her cleavage, but it also completely covered her belly and directly met the knee-length red skirt that was the bottom piece. The entire arrangement glittered in the light as Sara was escorted to the dining hall by two men wearing uniforms with steel breastplates and carrying halberds.
Inside the dining hall, a young male chamberlain bowed respectfully to her. "Good evening, Lady Sara. The King has granted you a seat beside his."
I'm sure he has was Sara's thought as she was lead to the chair. A few glasses and plates had been laid out, but no food yet.
About a minute later, the doors on the other side of the Hall entered. Julio entered, wearing slightly more modest clothing with a girl in purple behind him and two figures beside him. As he walked in, Sara was surprised to see that the two figures flanking him were not men but women, wearing breastplates and helmets colored red and with their clothes made of red silk. Each woman carried a sword on her hip and a halberd in her arm. She noticed that they also had the necklaces she'd seen on the other slave girls.
It now occurred to her that these were the first slave women in Kalunda she'd seen wearing red. It made her wonder about the significance of it - and why Julio wanted her to wear red - as she watched Julio take his seat at the head of the table. The armed women stood to either side of him. Julio looked at Sara and smiled. "So, my lady, I hear you enjoyed the baths."
"I did. They were very luxurious."
"We are quite proud of them." Julio looked to the chamberlain. "Keller! Go check on our dinner and what's keeping our final dining partner."
As the chamberlain walked out, Sara looked to Julio. "So, who is dining with us?"
The door Sara had entered opened. The chamberlain entered, followed by a woman in rather modest purple clothing for a Kalundan. Sara noticed she looked middle-aged, though whether she was well into her hundreds or in her forties or fifties without age-delay was something Sara wasn't sure about. The woman, dark-haired and with a prominent patrician nose, looked more like royalty than Julio. Yet she too had the manacle necklace of slaves around her neck, the same that hung from the two women in red that escorted her - armed in the same fashion as the King's bodyguards - and the woman in purple who followed her. The woman noticed Sara and, for a moment, seemed to be scowling, while the chamberlain proclaimed, "Presenting Her Grace Sabina, Royal Mother and First Slave of Kalunda."
"First Slave?" Sara whispered to herself.
It had been loud enough that Helena heard her from where she was standing behind Sara. Helena leaned down and put her lips against Sara's ear to whisper, "The First Slave is our direct master, responsible for discipline and assigning our duties. She is the King's Mother and the personal overseer of the King's Royal Slaves."
"Royal Slave?"
"The girls in purple. Only the King or his sons may have sex with them, though they often please each other I'm told. Every girl in the palace dreams of wearing the purple." Helena sighed, straightening up.
Sara watched as Helena walked about the table and dropped to a knee beside the girl in purple. Sabina extended her hands, each having a ring adorned with what Sara guessed was a kind of royal seal, and Helena and the girl each took a hand and kissed the ring. She nodded at them and they stood and returned to their places. Julio stood and Sara did as well. Sara took the initiative to walk around the table and curtsey respectively to Sabina. "Your Grace, it is my pleasure to meet you."
"So you are the escaped slave my son has talked about so much." Sabina smiled at her, though Sara wasn't quite sure how genuine it was. Nevertheless, Sabina raised her right hand and let Sara kiss the ring on her finger as a sign of guestly gratitude. Then Sabina extended a hand to her personal slave, a half-Oriental half-Caucasian girl who offered to Sabina a box. Sabina gave the box to Sara. "A gift from me, my Lady. The gratitude of a mother for your bravery in saving my son."
Sara opened the box and removed the ring inside of it, a beautiful ruby sent into the golden band. "Thank you, Your Grace."
"Julio, might I speak with you a minute before we dine? Alone?" Sabina's voice held the hint of motherly disapproval Sara recognized from her own mother.
The two walked off and left Sara to return to her seat. She noticed that the four armed women in the room were looking at her intently, some mixture of respect or perhaps curiosity. "Helena, you didn't say there was anything special about red."
"Oh, I didn't think it was important, my Lady. The King asked you to wear the red, after all. And it does fit your deeds."
"In what way?"
"These are not ordinary slaves. They are the Royal Janissaries. Orphaned girls who are raised by the King to be the guards of his inner sanctum and person when they grow older."
"They're the most modestly dressed women I've seen yet," Sara said. "I take it that whatever was done to you is not done to them?"
"Correct, Lady Sara. They are not conditioned in the Dungeon. Though they are not above sex. There have been a number of rulers in our past who's mother was a Janissary." Helena smiled at her. "The King was honoring you greatly when he permitted you to wear red. We are forbidden from that color, which is reserved to the Janissaries as purple is reserved for Royal Slaves."
Sara nodded in reply and looked back to where Julio and Sabina were speaking, presumably arguing. Or, given how little Julio seemed to be speaking, he was being given a lecture. Finally, it ended and they came to the table. "My apologies, Lady Sara," Sabina said to her.
"It's all right, Your Grace."
Sabina smiled at her again. Sara wondered if perhaps using her title like that was not appropriate given her apparent legal status. "I hope you have enjoyed our hospitality. We strive for offering the finest hospitality of any nation in the region. Much better than the barbarian nations to the north."
"Barbarian nations?"
"Uncultured brutes. The Normans, the Amazons, the al Farani, the list does go on." Sabina looked to her son. "Julio, please tell me that the food is coming?"
"Keller, did you check on it as instructed?" Before the chamberlain could reply, Julio - already knowing the answer - waved him off. "Go! Go check! And bring wine!" When Keller was gone, Julio nodded to his mother. "My apologies, Mother, for keeping you waiting."
"I'm quite aware of how slow the staff can be sometimes, Julio. It often has to do with the girls I assign to help them. I think we should invest in older women so that they will be less inclined to play and more inclined to work." Sabina returned her attention to Sara. "Now, Lady Sara, if you would, please tell us about where you came from. It is not very often that we Kalundans get to entertain a visitor from the stars..."
The red silks Julio had asked Sara to wear were more modest than Sara imagined they would be when she originally looked at them. The top piece was a bodice which covered her breasts, though not her cleavage, but it also completely covered her belly and directly met the knee-length red skirt that was the bottom piece. The entire arrangement glittered in the light as Sara was escorted to the dining hall by two men wearing uniforms with steel breastplates and carrying halberds.
Inside the dining hall, a young male chamberlain bowed respectfully to her. "Good evening, Lady Sara. The King has granted you a seat beside his."
I'm sure he has was Sara's thought as she was lead to the chair. A few glasses and plates had been laid out, but no food yet.
About a minute later, the doors on the other side of the Hall entered. Julio entered, wearing slightly more modest clothing with a girl in purple behind him and two figures beside him. As he walked in, Sara was surprised to see that the two figures flanking him were not men but women, wearing breastplates and helmets colored red and with their clothes made of red silk. Each woman carried a sword on her hip and a halberd in her arm. She noticed that they also had the necklaces she'd seen on the other slave girls.
It now occurred to her that these were the first slave women in Kalunda she'd seen wearing red. It made her wonder about the significance of it - and why Julio wanted her to wear red - as she watched Julio take his seat at the head of the table. The armed women stood to either side of him. Julio looked at Sara and smiled. "So, my lady, I hear you enjoyed the baths."
"I did. They were very luxurious."
"We are quite proud of them." Julio looked to the chamberlain. "Keller! Go check on our dinner and what's keeping our final dining partner."
As the chamberlain walked out, Sara looked to Julio. "So, who is dining with us?"
The door Sara had entered opened. The chamberlain entered, followed by a woman in rather modest purple clothing for a Kalundan. Sara noticed she looked middle-aged, though whether she was well into her hundreds or in her forties or fifties without age-delay was something Sara wasn't sure about. The woman, dark-haired and with a prominent patrician nose, looked more like royalty than Julio. Yet she too had the manacle necklace of slaves around her neck, the same that hung from the two women in red that escorted her - armed in the same fashion as the King's bodyguards - and the woman in purple who followed her. The woman noticed Sara and, for a moment, seemed to be scowling, while the chamberlain proclaimed, "Presenting Her Grace Sabina, Royal Mother and First Slave of Kalunda."
"First Slave?" Sara whispered to herself.
It had been loud enough that Helena heard her from where she was standing behind Sara. Helena leaned down and put her lips against Sara's ear to whisper, "The First Slave is our direct master, responsible for discipline and assigning our duties. She is the King's Mother and the personal overseer of the King's Royal Slaves."
"Royal Slave?"
"The girls in purple. Only the King or his sons may have sex with them, though they often please each other I'm told. Every girl in the palace dreams of wearing the purple." Helena sighed, straightening up.
Sara watched as Helena walked about the table and dropped to a knee beside the girl in purple. Sabina extended her hands, each having a ring adorned with what Sara guessed was a kind of royal seal, and Helena and the girl each took a hand and kissed the ring. She nodded at them and they stood and returned to their places. Julio stood and Sara did as well. Sara took the initiative to walk around the table and curtsey respectively to Sabina. "Your Grace, it is my pleasure to meet you."
"So you are the escaped slave my son has talked about so much." Sabina smiled at her, though Sara wasn't quite sure how genuine it was. Nevertheless, Sabina raised her right hand and let Sara kiss the ring on her finger as a sign of guestly gratitude. Then Sabina extended a hand to her personal slave, a half-Oriental half-Caucasian girl who offered to Sabina a box. Sabina gave the box to Sara. "A gift from me, my Lady. The gratitude of a mother for your bravery in saving my son."
Sara opened the box and removed the ring inside of it, a beautiful ruby sent into the golden band. "Thank you, Your Grace."
"Julio, might I speak with you a minute before we dine? Alone?" Sabina's voice held the hint of motherly disapproval Sara recognized from her own mother.
The two walked off and left Sara to return to her seat. She noticed that the four armed women in the room were looking at her intently, some mixture of respect or perhaps curiosity. "Helena, you didn't say there was anything special about red."
"Oh, I didn't think it was important, my Lady. The King asked you to wear the red, after all. And it does fit your deeds."
"In what way?"
"These are not ordinary slaves. They are the Royal Janissaries. Orphaned girls who are raised by the King to be the guards of his inner sanctum and person when they grow older."
"They're the most modestly dressed women I've seen yet," Sara said. "I take it that whatever was done to you is not done to them?"
"Correct, Lady Sara. They are not conditioned in the Dungeon. Though they are not above sex. There have been a number of rulers in our past who's mother was a Janissary." Helena smiled at her. "The King was honoring you greatly when he permitted you to wear red. We are forbidden from that color, which is reserved to the Janissaries as purple is reserved for Royal Slaves."
Sara nodded in reply and looked back to where Julio and Sabina were speaking, presumably arguing. Or, given how little Julio seemed to be speaking, he was being given a lecture. Finally, it ended and they came to the table. "My apologies, Lady Sara," Sabina said to her.
"It's all right, Your Grace."
Sabina smiled at her again. Sara wondered if perhaps using her title like that was not appropriate given her apparent legal status. "I hope you have enjoyed our hospitality. We strive for offering the finest hospitality of any nation in the region. Much better than the barbarian nations to the north."
"Barbarian nations?"
"Uncultured brutes. The Normans, the Amazons, the al Farani, the list does go on." Sabina looked to her son. "Julio, please tell me that the food is coming?"
"Keller, did you check on it as instructed?" Before the chamberlain could reply, Julio - already knowing the answer - waved him off. "Go! Go check! And bring wine!" When Keller was gone, Julio nodded to his mother. "My apologies, Mother, for keeping you waiting."
"I'm quite aware of how slow the staff can be sometimes, Julio. It often has to do with the girls I assign to help them. I think we should invest in older women so that they will be less inclined to play and more inclined to work." Sabina returned her attention to Sara. "Now, Lady Sara, if you would, please tell us about where you came from. It is not very often that we Kalundans get to entertain a visitor from the stars..."
”A Radical is a man with both feet planted firmly in the air.” – Franklin Delano Roosevelt
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
The dinner was delicious. Sara enjoyed the taste of the well-prepared meat, the vegetables and fruits available, and the sweet wine that left her a little buzzed by the end of the meal. Before the meal arrived and then during it, she had spoken to Julio and Sabina of her life, explaining to them the society that she’d grown up in and what she had left behind. After the meal Helena and a couple other slaves had been called in to perform a dance that, while well performed, Sara felt to be too sensual and altogether indicative of the kind of society Kalunda had.
She had also noticed, during the meal, that Julio’s attention was truly fixed on her retelling of life traveling between stars while Sabina was content to show the occasional interest and to otherwise quietly eat. Sara wasn’t quite sure she enjoyed Julio’s attention that much, of course, since she had the uncomfortable feeling that it was more than just curiosity.
When the conversation settled on Martina, Sabina finally spoke actively in the conversation. “Martina has inquired as to becoming a Kalundan,” she informed Sara. “She’s willing to spend nine years as a slave as well.”
“You’re welcome to her.” All things considered, Sara wasn’t the least bit surprised at Martina’s decision. Martina favored survival, comfort, and pleasure above all things and in that particular order. “It’s her decision.”
“And what about you, Lady Sara? Do you wish to stay here?”
“I have no plans as of the moment,” Sara replied. She didn’t like where the conversation was starting to lead. “But I have no interest in being a slave to anyone.”
“Oh, it’s really not that bad. Here in Kalunda, slaves have many rights they don’t find elsewhere.”
“That might be true, but slavery is slavery, and I prefer my freedom.” Sara looked to Julio. “I cut myself off from the home I’d once known for precisely that reason.”
“Oh, of course.” Julio nodded. “And I see nothing wrong with you wanting to keep your freedom. Nor would I dream of forcing you to leave now over that. Your wounds have not fully healed, after all, and it would be bad hospitality and the height of ingratitude to force such a decision on you.”
“I didn’t mean to imply otherwise, Your Majesty.” Sara smiled sweetly at him. “Your generosity is very much appreciated. And I hope that Martina serves you well.”
“Well, if Martina is such a traitoress, perhaps we should be wary about her services,” Sabina now remarked.
“That is your affair. I have simply told you what happened. It’s up to you and Martina to decide how she will be treated here.” Sara finished her glass of wine. Julio quickly did the same. “She is a rather good lover, from what I’ve heard, and she’s willing to be with women as well as men. She should fit in well here in Kalunda.”
“Yes.” Julio nodded and put his hands on the table. “Well, it is time to call it a night, I think. I have meetings in the morning, affairs of state you understand. But, perhaps we should dine again tomorrow?”
“I would love to,” Sara said immediately.
“Excellent. Mother, Lady Sara, have a good evening.” With that said, Julio immediately left, flanked by his Janissary guards.
Sabina put her glass down. Sara exchanged eye contact with her, noticing some irritation in Sabina’s brown eyes. “Well, it is time to retire for the evening,” Sabina finally said. “And I have my own affairs to set into order.” Sabina looked to Helena, who had returned to Sara’s side. “Helena!”
“Yes, Your Grace?”
“You will see Lady Sara to her room and stay there for the night. I am assigning you to her on a permanent basis. You are her’s to command in all things.”
“Yes, Your Grace, of course.”
Sabina stood and nodded to Sara. “Have a pleasant sleep, Lady Sara. I will be seeing you again tomorrow.” At that she led her bodyguards and personal attendant out.
Sara sighed and looked to Helena. “Well, Helena, it is getting late. I have to see Doctor Rastman tomorrow morning anyway. Let’s go back to my room.” Sara thought of something. “Wait, where will you slee...” She sighed at seeing Helena’s expression. “Fine, fine, I’ve been sleeping beside another woman for the last week anyway. But you will remember my wishes, yes?”
“Of course, Lady Sara. I will simply sleep by your side and not attempt to have sex with you.” For something so simple, Helena seemed to be making a big deal out of it.
“Good.”
Sabina’s living quarters were directly below those of her son and nearly as grand, with both being heavily guarded but linked by staircases so that the girls of the Royal harem could move freely from their living area below and the King’s living quarters.
There were roughly twenty-five girls who wore the purple, none older than twenty-six. All were chosen for their beauty and other attributes, with an almost equal number of the various skin tones found in Kalunda. They attended to the needs of both Julio and Sabina and kept the living areas tidy, also serving as sexual partners of any member of the Royal Family as well as with each other.
Sabina did not concern herself with any of them. She walked to one of the general use side rooms in the living area and looked at the two Janissaries flanking the door. “Did you bring her?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Good. Then excuse me.”
Sabina went through the heavy oak door to a room that had once been simply been a storage room or a side sleeping room or whatever the Royal Mother decided she wanted it to be. In her case, it was something far more sinister than the room had ever held.
In the center of the room was the slave girl Ambrosia, one of Sabina’s most irritating charges in the palace. By Sabina’s orders she had been stripped naked and tied to the cables hanging from the ceiling, spread-eagling her bare arms upward and holding her in place. The room itself had various tools Sabina used to punish slaves like Ambrosia, who had overcome their slave conditioning through pure willpower. The legality of the entire room was in limbo from certain aspects of Kalundan law, but Sabina easily controlled Julio and had many friends amongst Kalundan high society, enough that she did not fear the law.
Walking past the torture rack she had placed near the door, Sabina carefully looked through a shelf on the wall before selecting a five-bladed Norman whip. “Ambrosia, my dear.... or should I call you Amber? That was the name your mother gave you, after all.”
Amber remained silent, staring straight ahead.
“Your mother and I were very close, you know. There were many times we made love because of our mutual attraction and not simply because we wanted sex.” Sabina walked up to Amber from the front and put a hand on the girl’s cheek. “You’re rather more beautiful than your mother was. If only you weren’t so stubborn, you’d be wearing purple by now.”
Still nothing.
Sabina frowned. Yet her left hand remained deceptively gentle as it slid it’s way down to feel one of Amber’s breasts. “Why can’t you just be a normal Kalundan girl? You do know that I’m going to have you banished and sold off if you keep this up?”
“So you say.”
“Your father can’t protect you either. Perhaps he could from Keven, but not my Julio.” Sabina raised her right arm up and brought the whip down on Amber’s left arm, drawing blood and a wince from Amber. “The best thing about kevei cream is that it heals even the wounds caused by this.”
Amber shrugged, at least as much as she could given her position.
“Speak to me, slave!”
“Go to Hell.”
Sabina angrily swiped the whip across Amber’s chest, cutting one of her nipples and leaving streaks of red from the girl’s upper sternum to just below her breasts. This actually drew a cry of pain. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that.”
“What does it matter?” Amber’s eyes met Sabina’s directly and were filled with anger and hate. “You’ll torture me no matter what I do because I’m not being another good little slave girl. You’re jealous because you never had the willpower that I and Mother had to overcome what was done to you in the Dungeon.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. The conditioning makes us what we are.”
“Please. The conditioning turns us into submissive little sluts for the men of this city to fuck at their leisure. I beat the conditioning just like Mom did, but you never have! I can see it in your eyes. You crave sex as much as any other slave in this palace. And you hate it because you know deep down that it makes you just another slave to...”
Sabina’s quivering left hand whipped across Amber’s face, the slap quieting her. “Shut your mouth!”
“Why don’t you go to your purple girls, Sabina, and get them to eat you out.” Amber sneered from amusement. “You look like you need it.”
Sabina slapped her again. She then stomped to the door and called in one of her Janissaries. A strong-looking blonde woman of mostly Caucasian extraction entered, clad in her usual breastplate and red silk. “Every four hours, the Slave Ambrosia is to be flogged with this ten times on her back. Between whippings, apply kevei cream to the wounds so they will heal. She is to be given only a meager water ration daily and no food. Maintain this until I return.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Sabina gave one final look at Amber, who returned her hate-filled gaze with more of the same, before leaving. As she did so, Sabina felt her heart beat a little faster. She looked to one of her prettier slave girls, Penelope, and motioned to her bedchamber. “Come, Penelope. I have need of you.”
“Immediately, Your Grace.”
Sabina smiled at her and went to her room, not bothering to wait until she got there before she began to undress herself.
She had also noticed, during the meal, that Julio’s attention was truly fixed on her retelling of life traveling between stars while Sabina was content to show the occasional interest and to otherwise quietly eat. Sara wasn’t quite sure she enjoyed Julio’s attention that much, of course, since she had the uncomfortable feeling that it was more than just curiosity.
When the conversation settled on Martina, Sabina finally spoke actively in the conversation. “Martina has inquired as to becoming a Kalundan,” she informed Sara. “She’s willing to spend nine years as a slave as well.”
“You’re welcome to her.” All things considered, Sara wasn’t the least bit surprised at Martina’s decision. Martina favored survival, comfort, and pleasure above all things and in that particular order. “It’s her decision.”
“And what about you, Lady Sara? Do you wish to stay here?”
“I have no plans as of the moment,” Sara replied. She didn’t like where the conversation was starting to lead. “But I have no interest in being a slave to anyone.”
“Oh, it’s really not that bad. Here in Kalunda, slaves have many rights they don’t find elsewhere.”
“That might be true, but slavery is slavery, and I prefer my freedom.” Sara looked to Julio. “I cut myself off from the home I’d once known for precisely that reason.”
“Oh, of course.” Julio nodded. “And I see nothing wrong with you wanting to keep your freedom. Nor would I dream of forcing you to leave now over that. Your wounds have not fully healed, after all, and it would be bad hospitality and the height of ingratitude to force such a decision on you.”
“I didn’t mean to imply otherwise, Your Majesty.” Sara smiled sweetly at him. “Your generosity is very much appreciated. And I hope that Martina serves you well.”
“Well, if Martina is such a traitoress, perhaps we should be wary about her services,” Sabina now remarked.
“That is your affair. I have simply told you what happened. It’s up to you and Martina to decide how she will be treated here.” Sara finished her glass of wine. Julio quickly did the same. “She is a rather good lover, from what I’ve heard, and she’s willing to be with women as well as men. She should fit in well here in Kalunda.”
“Yes.” Julio nodded and put his hands on the table. “Well, it is time to call it a night, I think. I have meetings in the morning, affairs of state you understand. But, perhaps we should dine again tomorrow?”
“I would love to,” Sara said immediately.
“Excellent. Mother, Lady Sara, have a good evening.” With that said, Julio immediately left, flanked by his Janissary guards.
Sabina put her glass down. Sara exchanged eye contact with her, noticing some irritation in Sabina’s brown eyes. “Well, it is time to retire for the evening,” Sabina finally said. “And I have my own affairs to set into order.” Sabina looked to Helena, who had returned to Sara’s side. “Helena!”
“Yes, Your Grace?”
“You will see Lady Sara to her room and stay there for the night. I am assigning you to her on a permanent basis. You are her’s to command in all things.”
“Yes, Your Grace, of course.”
Sabina stood and nodded to Sara. “Have a pleasant sleep, Lady Sara. I will be seeing you again tomorrow.” At that she led her bodyguards and personal attendant out.
Sara sighed and looked to Helena. “Well, Helena, it is getting late. I have to see Doctor Rastman tomorrow morning anyway. Let’s go back to my room.” Sara thought of something. “Wait, where will you slee...” She sighed at seeing Helena’s expression. “Fine, fine, I’ve been sleeping beside another woman for the last week anyway. But you will remember my wishes, yes?”
“Of course, Lady Sara. I will simply sleep by your side and not attempt to have sex with you.” For something so simple, Helena seemed to be making a big deal out of it.
“Good.”
Sabina’s living quarters were directly below those of her son and nearly as grand, with both being heavily guarded but linked by staircases so that the girls of the Royal harem could move freely from their living area below and the King’s living quarters.
There were roughly twenty-five girls who wore the purple, none older than twenty-six. All were chosen for their beauty and other attributes, with an almost equal number of the various skin tones found in Kalunda. They attended to the needs of both Julio and Sabina and kept the living areas tidy, also serving as sexual partners of any member of the Royal Family as well as with each other.
Sabina did not concern herself with any of them. She walked to one of the general use side rooms in the living area and looked at the two Janissaries flanking the door. “Did you bring her?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Good. Then excuse me.”
Sabina went through the heavy oak door to a room that had once been simply been a storage room or a side sleeping room or whatever the Royal Mother decided she wanted it to be. In her case, it was something far more sinister than the room had ever held.
In the center of the room was the slave girl Ambrosia, one of Sabina’s most irritating charges in the palace. By Sabina’s orders she had been stripped naked and tied to the cables hanging from the ceiling, spread-eagling her bare arms upward and holding her in place. The room itself had various tools Sabina used to punish slaves like Ambrosia, who had overcome their slave conditioning through pure willpower. The legality of the entire room was in limbo from certain aspects of Kalundan law, but Sabina easily controlled Julio and had many friends amongst Kalundan high society, enough that she did not fear the law.
Walking past the torture rack she had placed near the door, Sabina carefully looked through a shelf on the wall before selecting a five-bladed Norman whip. “Ambrosia, my dear.... or should I call you Amber? That was the name your mother gave you, after all.”
Amber remained silent, staring straight ahead.
“Your mother and I were very close, you know. There were many times we made love because of our mutual attraction and not simply because we wanted sex.” Sabina walked up to Amber from the front and put a hand on the girl’s cheek. “You’re rather more beautiful than your mother was. If only you weren’t so stubborn, you’d be wearing purple by now.”
Still nothing.
Sabina frowned. Yet her left hand remained deceptively gentle as it slid it’s way down to feel one of Amber’s breasts. “Why can’t you just be a normal Kalundan girl? You do know that I’m going to have you banished and sold off if you keep this up?”
“So you say.”
“Your father can’t protect you either. Perhaps he could from Keven, but not my Julio.” Sabina raised her right arm up and brought the whip down on Amber’s left arm, drawing blood and a wince from Amber. “The best thing about kevei cream is that it heals even the wounds caused by this.”
Amber shrugged, at least as much as she could given her position.
“Speak to me, slave!”
“Go to Hell.”
Sabina angrily swiped the whip across Amber’s chest, cutting one of her nipples and leaving streaks of red from the girl’s upper sternum to just below her breasts. This actually drew a cry of pain. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that.”
“What does it matter?” Amber’s eyes met Sabina’s directly and were filled with anger and hate. “You’ll torture me no matter what I do because I’m not being another good little slave girl. You’re jealous because you never had the willpower that I and Mother had to overcome what was done to you in the Dungeon.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. The conditioning makes us what we are.”
“Please. The conditioning turns us into submissive little sluts for the men of this city to fuck at their leisure. I beat the conditioning just like Mom did, but you never have! I can see it in your eyes. You crave sex as much as any other slave in this palace. And you hate it because you know deep down that it makes you just another slave to...”
Sabina’s quivering left hand whipped across Amber’s face, the slap quieting her. “Shut your mouth!”
“Why don’t you go to your purple girls, Sabina, and get them to eat you out.” Amber sneered from amusement. “You look like you need it.”
Sabina slapped her again. She then stomped to the door and called in one of her Janissaries. A strong-looking blonde woman of mostly Caucasian extraction entered, clad in her usual breastplate and red silk. “Every four hours, the Slave Ambrosia is to be flogged with this ten times on her back. Between whippings, apply kevei cream to the wounds so they will heal. She is to be given only a meager water ration daily and no food. Maintain this until I return.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Sabina gave one final look at Amber, who returned her hate-filled gaze with more of the same, before leaving. As she did so, Sabina felt her heart beat a little faster. She looked to one of her prettier slave girls, Penelope, and motioned to her bedchamber. “Come, Penelope. I have need of you.”
“Immediately, Your Grace.”
Sabina smiled at her and went to her room, not bothering to wait until she got there before she began to undress herself.
”A Radical is a man with both feet planted firmly in the air.” – Franklin Delano Roosevelt
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
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darthdavid
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NecronLord
- Harbinger of Doom
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This is definately a change from the usual fare on SD.net however, it's interesting nonetheless, and please, continue.
I have to wonder if the Normans are at all a 'Gor' reference. Given their habits, the name of their major city, and their warped beliefs.
I have to wonder if the Normans are at all a 'Gor' reference. Given their habits, the name of their major city, and their warped beliefs.
Superior Moderator - BotB - HAB [Drill Instructor]-Writer- Stardestroyer.net's resident Star-God.
"We believe in the systematic understanding of the physical world through observation and experimentation, argument and debate and most of all freedom of will." ~ Stargate: The Ark of Truth
"We believe in the systematic understanding of the physical world through observation and experimentation, argument and debate and most of all freedom of will." ~ Stargate: The Ark of Truth
*smirk*NecronLord wrote: I have to wonder if the Normans are at all a 'Gor' reference. Given their habits, the name of their major city, and their warped beliefs.
Find the pen name of the aforementioned work's author and get back to me on if you think it's a reference or not.
In fact, it's rather more than a reference, as we will eventually see.But I'm probably going to resume work on "Anatomy of a War" tonight.
”A Radical is a man with both feet planted firmly in the air.” – Franklin Delano Roosevelt
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
LOL and here I thought they were named after a barbarian tribe that used to bother the Romans.Steve wrote:Find the pen name of the aforementioned work's author and get back to me on if you think it's a reference or not.
Some of this stuff is too painful to read, but in a good way. Excellent job.
I take it the Kalundans are to the Normans as Gaia (Foundation) is to the Borg. They both sound like planets that would be significantly improved by a visit from a Tyrannid horde.
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NecronLord
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*Cough* Yes, I did pick up on that. You think I'm some sort of moron?Steve wrote:*smirk*
Find the pen name of the aforementioned work's author and get back to me on if you think it's a reference or not.
Superior Moderator - BotB - HAB [Drill Instructor]-Writer- Stardestroyer.net's resident Star-God.
"We believe in the systematic understanding of the physical world through observation and experimentation, argument and debate and most of all freedom of will." ~ Stargate: The Ark of Truth
"We believe in the systematic understanding of the physical world through observation and experimentation, argument and debate and most of all freedom of will." ~ Stargate: The Ark of Truth
Oops, had an update I finished long ago and I forgot to post it. Silly me! :)
After returning to her room, Sara removed her bodice and slid into bed, laying her stomach while Helena massaged her back. It was pleasing to the point that she felt herself begin to doze off.
As awareness returned, Sara felt Helena's hands on her chest and realized she was laying on her back. She opened her eyes and tried to move her arms but found she could not. She looked to either side and found her wrists bound to the bed posts by belt-style leather straps. Her ankles were similarly trapped, leaving her spread-eagled on the bed - the skirt she'd been wearing was gone as well, leaving her as naked as Helena. "Helena," she began to say as the slave girl's tongue ran over one of Sara's nipples. "Helena, untie me. I don't want this."
Rather than untying Sara, Helena lowered herself and laid flat on top of Sara. Her arms extended upward so her hands could continue to cup Sara's breasts. "God dammit, untie me!" Sara shouted as she saw Helena's tongue go further and further down...
Suddenly she was on her belly again. Sara moved an arm and found no resistance, pulling her right arm down from where it had been laying flat on the bed. She turned over and looked up in the dim, lantern-lit room. There was moaning nearby, off the foot of the bed. Sara looked over the side and saw just enough - the upper half of Helena's body, her face locked in a contorted expression of sexual pleasure, one hand stretched downward and out of view and the other hand gripping a breast. Sara pulled herself back up onto the bed and sighed. One day and this place has already gotten to me. I really need to get out of here.
She tried to go back to sleep, but Helena's moaning was growing louder and louder until it finally reached a crescendo. When it stopped Sara looked up and opened her eyes, in time to see Helena's nude form lift itself up off the floor and look back toward her. She saw Sara awake and yelped in terror. "Lady Sara!" Helena dropped to her knees, clearly frightened. "Please forgive me, Lady Sara! Please don't tell the First Slave or the King! I... I couldn't help it!"
Sara continued to look at her, not trying to be as intimidating as Helena obviously felt her to be. "You had to? Why?"
"Because it was hurting, Lady Sara." Helena bowed her head. "I tried to resist it. I knew you did not desire it, and I did not want to wake you from your peaceful sleep. But it hurt too much. I had to feel sex. I... I am sorry I failed you my Lady. But please do not tell anyone, I would be punished."
"Punished? You said they forbade you from sex as punishment."
"Yes. And if we try we are taken to the Dungeon and bound so we cannot pleasure ourselves. It is so horrible and painful. Please do not tell them. The First Slave is very strict."
There was something truly horrifying about the sheer terror in Helena's face, the tears flowing freely from her eyes. Sara's unease about Kalunda increased - there seemed to be a dark underbelly to the hedonistic and pleasant society she'd seen so far. "Then come to bed, Helena, and sleep well. We'll talk more in the morning."
"Yes, Lady Sara. I will."
After returning to her room, Sara removed her bodice and slid into bed, laying her stomach while Helena massaged her back. It was pleasing to the point that she felt herself begin to doze off.
As awareness returned, Sara felt Helena's hands on her chest and realized she was laying on her back. She opened her eyes and tried to move her arms but found she could not. She looked to either side and found her wrists bound to the bed posts by belt-style leather straps. Her ankles were similarly trapped, leaving her spread-eagled on the bed - the skirt she'd been wearing was gone as well, leaving her as naked as Helena. "Helena," she began to say as the slave girl's tongue ran over one of Sara's nipples. "Helena, untie me. I don't want this."
Rather than untying Sara, Helena lowered herself and laid flat on top of Sara. Her arms extended upward so her hands could continue to cup Sara's breasts. "God dammit, untie me!" Sara shouted as she saw Helena's tongue go further and further down...
Suddenly she was on her belly again. Sara moved an arm and found no resistance, pulling her right arm down from where it had been laying flat on the bed. She turned over and looked up in the dim, lantern-lit room. There was moaning nearby, off the foot of the bed. Sara looked over the side and saw just enough - the upper half of Helena's body, her face locked in a contorted expression of sexual pleasure, one hand stretched downward and out of view and the other hand gripping a breast. Sara pulled herself back up onto the bed and sighed. One day and this place has already gotten to me. I really need to get out of here.
She tried to go back to sleep, but Helena's moaning was growing louder and louder until it finally reached a crescendo. When it stopped Sara looked up and opened her eyes, in time to see Helena's nude form lift itself up off the floor and look back toward her. She saw Sara awake and yelped in terror. "Lady Sara!" Helena dropped to her knees, clearly frightened. "Please forgive me, Lady Sara! Please don't tell the First Slave or the King! I... I couldn't help it!"
Sara continued to look at her, not trying to be as intimidating as Helena obviously felt her to be. "You had to? Why?"
"Because it was hurting, Lady Sara." Helena bowed her head. "I tried to resist it. I knew you did not desire it, and I did not want to wake you from your peaceful sleep. But it hurt too much. I had to feel sex. I... I am sorry I failed you my Lady. But please do not tell anyone, I would be punished."
"Punished? You said they forbade you from sex as punishment."
"Yes. And if we try we are taken to the Dungeon and bound so we cannot pleasure ourselves. It is so horrible and painful. Please do not tell them. The First Slave is very strict."
There was something truly horrifying about the sheer terror in Helena's face, the tears flowing freely from her eyes. Sara's unease about Kalunda increased - there seemed to be a dark underbelly to the hedonistic and pleasant society she'd seen so far. "Then come to bed, Helena, and sleep well. We'll talk more in the morning."
"Yes, Lady Sara. I will."
”A Radical is a man with both feet planted firmly in the air.” – Franklin Delano Roosevelt
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
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darthdavid
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admiral_danielsben
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Gee... I'd like to know more about the galaxy being presented (would that be at fanfiction.net?). I mean, crazy gratuitous titillation is fine (if overdone in this case), but I'd like to know what's going on when Our Heroes aren't being f**ked (in both a literal and metaphorical sense).
Hmm... sounds like a bizarre perversion of 17-19th century world in space, to an extent. What are the British up to anyway? the Israelis? What's life like in the big powers anyway? And what's the political scene? Any really nice/free nations?
Hmm... sounds like a bizarre perversion of 17-19th century world in space, to an extent. What are the British up to anyway? the Israelis? What's life like in the big powers anyway? And what's the political scene? Any really nice/free nations?
-DanielSBen
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"Certain death, small chance of sucess, what are we waiting for?" Gimli, son of Gloin
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"Politics is supposed to be the second oldest profession. I have come to realize that it bears a very close resemblance to the first." - Ronald Reagan (1911-2004)
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"If your lies are going to be this transparent, this is going to be a very short interrogation" -- Kira
"Then I'll try to make my lies more opaque..." -- Gul Darhe'el (DS9: Duet)
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"Certain death, small chance of sucess, what are we waiting for?" Gimli, son of Gloin
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"Politics is supposed to be the second oldest profession. I have come to realize that it bears a very close resemblance to the first." - Ronald Reagan (1911-2004)
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"If your lies are going to be this transparent, this is going to be a very short interrogation" -- Kira
"Then I'll try to make my lies more opaque..." -- Gul Darhe'el (DS9: Duet)
admiral_danielsben wrote:Gee... I'd like to know more about the galaxy being presented (would that be at fanfiction.net?). I mean, crazy gratuitous titillation is fine (if overdone in this case), but I'd like to know what's going on when Our Heroes aren't being f**ked (in both a literal and metaphorical sense).
Hmm... sounds like a bizarre perversion of 17-19th century world in space, to an extent. What are the British up to anyway? the Israelis? What's life like in the big powers anyway? And what's the political scene? Any really nice/free nations?
The universe was used as the setting for the Great Game SD at Spacebattles, and has come to be known as the TGGverse.
I lost my pre-extrauniversal contact map of what the TGGverse looks like as of this story. The following image is what the universe looks like as of "55 Days in Kalunda" (RTH followup in a way, collaborative work between myself and Marina aka the Duchess of Zeon):
TGG Map circa Sept. 2841, about 40 years after "Road to Hell".
As of the start of "55 Days in Kalunda", the War of the Grand Alliance has ended with the total defeat and occupation of New Plymouth Colony.
Some of it is admittedly meant to mimic late 19th-early 20th Century world politics (pre-WWI); hence the name of "The Great Game", a reference to one of the major geopolitical issues of that day; the Anglo-Russian competition for control of Afghanistan.
Some of the smaller nations aren't listed. Among them are the nations considered the "USA Successor Nations" - interstellar Nation-States with Constitutions modeled after the United States' Constitution. The official list consists of Denerios, Scathford, Catalinis, and Lisea (in terms of weakest to strongest). Additionally, American-descended populations (Anglo-American culture it is sometimes called) exist in many other states, including New California, Gilead, New Dakota, New Plymouth and it's tributary allies, Devenshire, New Britain, and the Frontier Union (Hopkins' Outpost).
And the "crazy gratuitous titillation" is part of the ongoing point of the story, personified by it's title and the completed quote it's derived from, which should be obvious.[/img]
”A Radical is a man with both feet planted firmly in the air.” – Franklin Delano Roosevelt
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
"No folly is more costly than the folly of intolerant idealism." - Sir Winston L. S. Churchill, Princips Britannia
American Conservatism is about the exercise of personal responsibility without state interference in the lives of the citizenry..... unless, of course, it involves using the bludgeon of state power to suppress things Conservatives do not like.
DONALD J. TRUMP IS A SEDITIOUS TRAITOR AND MUST BE IMPEACHED
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paladin3030
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