MissyDemeanors
Really Really Experienced
- Joined
- Aug 17, 2015
- Posts
- 403
Ancilla knew she couldn’t cry. She kept playing over and over in her head the consequence that could bring. Her back hurt from hunching over but it was the only way she could keep her legs inside the cage unless she stood up. She was 5’8 which appeared to be 3 inches taller than every other captive.
The woman next to her actually seemed to be freakishly short. Apparently that was a likable trait. She didn’t have many likeable traits at all. In fact, when her father had tried to sell her and her sisters at first she was the only one that wouldn’t sell.
Their mother had passed and 8 kids was too much. He had never been a caring man but he knew his wife would never forgive him if he chucked the extra mouths. He kept 2 of the three boys and was forced to keep her. She had been 10 and fat when he tried to sell her the first time. The merchant told her father he’d be back in 5 years that he should skinny her down and he might take her.
The merchant came back when he said he would and Ancilla was no where to be found. She had spent years exploring the forest for food she knew every hiding spot. She was still not a lean woman but she was afraid she was skinny enough.
She was just average and she didn’t know why her father thought she would be wanted in the slave trade. She knew nothing about it except they apparently wanted her skinny and not so tall. Her father would get drunk and talk of cutting off her feet to stop her from growing.
One day the talk became a reality. They were taxing people again and for someone that had no talents, no prospects and no purpose her father didn’t see a point of letting her live. She fled into the forest once more. She rarely cried but she had lost all hope. She sobbed into the earth and begged for her sadness to end.
Ancilla could look back at that moment now and wish her father had just killed her. A fairy had shown up. Tricky evil bastards. She knew so much about them from her books she knew she shouldn’t talk to them. Yet there she was spilling her heart out to the woman before her.
She had seemed so kind, so genuine. “How could I help you girl.” She remembered he skipped over the “little” part to the girl aspect. She was starved but still managed to have large hips and although her breast were perky they were hand full. Try as she might she was never going to be slender and short.
She thought about asking to be skinny but then her father would just sell her. “Make me so I could make my father happy WITHOUT making me skinny.” People always think they have been the clever ones when they make a wish. Ancilla had to learn, people were idiots.
“When you cry, there will be joy for you. When you sing, others will stand up with notice. When you dance, all eyes will be on you. When you laugh, the world will be put at ease.” Ancilla had those words burned in her brain. She couldn’t even imagine how fucked she was.
She had raced home and told her father she’d been visited by a fairy. He was furious. A church going man, consorting with such evil was wrong. She hadn’t been given a chance to explain herself. She started to sing. Her voice was nice but nothing different than before.*
She sang louder and her father did not falter. He was close when her brother barged in. “Father come quick.” He did as the son asked and walking from their home they realized their house was surrounded by growing wild flowers all around,
Sadly, growing flowers was not a useful talent. Nothing else reacted to her other than she seemed to put animals at ease. Crops didn’t grow and it actually becomes annoying have to tromp through fields of useless flowers.*
She hadn’t told her father of her other gifts and his hatred had only grown. When she laughed anyone would share their secrets with her. They felt safe and as if she was the best person to tell. The problem was, after they told her, if she didn’t keep laughing there was consequences. People snapped back feeling as if she had ripped the secret from them. No one wants to confess their secrets.
When she danced nothing could look away. She would dance in the woods and creatures of all shapes and sizes would gather. Her brother had come to find her to help for chores and hed found her dancing. He became overcome with lust and chased her. She ran for nearly an hour before the spell was broken and he forgot why he’d been chasing her in the first place.
“GET UP!” Ancilla was snapped back to reality. Barbosa had slammed his cane against the bars and she quickly scurried to her feet. The people who had come to look at her shook their heads and walked on. She knew that would happen. So did Barbosa but he didn’t seem worried.
Barbosa had shown just a year later then the other merchant had promised. Ancilla was 18 and her father was now paying a tax for her as an adult. It was just a week after her birthday when Barbosa showed. He took her off her fathers hands. Woman had scrubbed her clean and put her in shorts and shirt that felt like burlap. They were cold and uncaring and nearly ripped her hair out to get the knots free.
She’d learned that day that her father had sold her as a sex slave. A large festival was coming and Barbosa needed bodies. He had gathered nearly 50 men and woman as sex slaves. Some were gorgeous, others were strong , or could sing like an angel or even some that could see the future. Humans couldn’t wield magic so traits like that were revered.*
Some had been raised their whole lives to prepare for this moment. Others were just happy to know they would be fed and have a roof over their head. Ancilla and one other were the only ones not eager for their fate. She and her new friend were plain. Ancilla had brassy blonde hair and dirt brown eyes. Her skin tan was uneven from working in the sun. She had curves but not all in the right places. She was taller than most of the people buying and she had almost no talent to speak of.
The only perk she had was she was a virgin. Ancilla watched as a huge disgusting man came up to talk to Barbosa. He seemed intrigued when he found out that fact. She tilted her head praying her defiance would show. She didn’t have to. Once he saw her collar he walked away quickly. Barbosa just glared at her and she shook with fear.
Her collar was a voice restrainer which meant, most likely, she was disobedient. She’d speak and words wouldn’t come out. No one liked a slave that talked back. Ancilla had no intention of letting someone buy her. She knew when the festival ended Barbosa would kill whoever was left and she was ready for death. She didn’t want to live her cruel life anymore and she’d rather die intact and untouched.
She didn’t pay attention to the bidding but it went quick. Some were snatched up immediately others Barbosa had to do a quick speech. Even her plain friend had been dragged off by the fat man. She was happy to see him go, most likely he couldn’t afford a second. It wasn’t cheap to buy a sex slave. Even if it was untrained.
Her turn came next. Barbosa talked about how she could make flowers grow with her song. She waited for him to remove her collar she had prepared such a cuss storm no one would ever buy her. A crowd had gathered. She actually felt a bit excited for her final act. She was chained to the center of the stage looking out.
She felt the pain not knowing at first where it came from. She would have cried out but the collar prevented her. The crowd watched in horror as Barbosa whipped her. IT was a special whip made up of energy currents. IT felt just like a belt but left no marks. It was against the law to make a slave bleed.
It was taboo and shameful to beat a slave in public even a bad one. People didn’t leave they were too stunned to turn away. Each lash Barbosa came closer to his goal. She could contain herself no longer. She burst into tears. Barbosa grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to the front of the stage.*
Her tears were a dark red. “Quick, taste her tears.” Barbosa urged to a harem girl. Her master nodded and the girl walked up. Ancilla closed her eyes.
She felt the woman’s tongue flick over her cheek and the girl giggled “It’s wine!”
The crowd erupted. Slaves were valued on their ability to stick out, in a positive way, and no one had a slave that could cry wine. It was just a rich persons bragging right. Ancilla continued to cry silently as Barbossa began the bidding. She had failed and soon she would be someone’s sex slave
The woman next to her actually seemed to be freakishly short. Apparently that was a likable trait. She didn’t have many likeable traits at all. In fact, when her father had tried to sell her and her sisters at first she was the only one that wouldn’t sell.
Their mother had passed and 8 kids was too much. He had never been a caring man but he knew his wife would never forgive him if he chucked the extra mouths. He kept 2 of the three boys and was forced to keep her. She had been 10 and fat when he tried to sell her the first time. The merchant told her father he’d be back in 5 years that he should skinny her down and he might take her.
The merchant came back when he said he would and Ancilla was no where to be found. She had spent years exploring the forest for food she knew every hiding spot. She was still not a lean woman but she was afraid she was skinny enough.
She was just average and she didn’t know why her father thought she would be wanted in the slave trade. She knew nothing about it except they apparently wanted her skinny and not so tall. Her father would get drunk and talk of cutting off her feet to stop her from growing.
One day the talk became a reality. They were taxing people again and for someone that had no talents, no prospects and no purpose her father didn’t see a point of letting her live. She fled into the forest once more. She rarely cried but she had lost all hope. She sobbed into the earth and begged for her sadness to end.
Ancilla could look back at that moment now and wish her father had just killed her. A fairy had shown up. Tricky evil bastards. She knew so much about them from her books she knew she shouldn’t talk to them. Yet there she was spilling her heart out to the woman before her.
She had seemed so kind, so genuine. “How could I help you girl.” She remembered he skipped over the “little” part to the girl aspect. She was starved but still managed to have large hips and although her breast were perky they were hand full. Try as she might she was never going to be slender and short.
She thought about asking to be skinny but then her father would just sell her. “Make me so I could make my father happy WITHOUT making me skinny.” People always think they have been the clever ones when they make a wish. Ancilla had to learn, people were idiots.
“When you cry, there will be joy for you. When you sing, others will stand up with notice. When you dance, all eyes will be on you. When you laugh, the world will be put at ease.” Ancilla had those words burned in her brain. She couldn’t even imagine how fucked she was.
She had raced home and told her father she’d been visited by a fairy. He was furious. A church going man, consorting with such evil was wrong. She hadn’t been given a chance to explain herself. She started to sing. Her voice was nice but nothing different than before.*
She sang louder and her father did not falter. He was close when her brother barged in. “Father come quick.” He did as the son asked and walking from their home they realized their house was surrounded by growing wild flowers all around,
Sadly, growing flowers was not a useful talent. Nothing else reacted to her other than she seemed to put animals at ease. Crops didn’t grow and it actually becomes annoying have to tromp through fields of useless flowers.*
She hadn’t told her father of her other gifts and his hatred had only grown. When she laughed anyone would share their secrets with her. They felt safe and as if she was the best person to tell. The problem was, after they told her, if she didn’t keep laughing there was consequences. People snapped back feeling as if she had ripped the secret from them. No one wants to confess their secrets.
When she danced nothing could look away. She would dance in the woods and creatures of all shapes and sizes would gather. Her brother had come to find her to help for chores and hed found her dancing. He became overcome with lust and chased her. She ran for nearly an hour before the spell was broken and he forgot why he’d been chasing her in the first place.
“GET UP!” Ancilla was snapped back to reality. Barbosa had slammed his cane against the bars and she quickly scurried to her feet. The people who had come to look at her shook their heads and walked on. She knew that would happen. So did Barbosa but he didn’t seem worried.
Barbosa had shown just a year later then the other merchant had promised. Ancilla was 18 and her father was now paying a tax for her as an adult. It was just a week after her birthday when Barbosa showed. He took her off her fathers hands. Woman had scrubbed her clean and put her in shorts and shirt that felt like burlap. They were cold and uncaring and nearly ripped her hair out to get the knots free.
She’d learned that day that her father had sold her as a sex slave. A large festival was coming and Barbosa needed bodies. He had gathered nearly 50 men and woman as sex slaves. Some were gorgeous, others were strong , or could sing like an angel or even some that could see the future. Humans couldn’t wield magic so traits like that were revered.*
Some had been raised their whole lives to prepare for this moment. Others were just happy to know they would be fed and have a roof over their head. Ancilla and one other were the only ones not eager for their fate. She and her new friend were plain. Ancilla had brassy blonde hair and dirt brown eyes. Her skin tan was uneven from working in the sun. She had curves but not all in the right places. She was taller than most of the people buying and she had almost no talent to speak of.
The only perk she had was she was a virgin. Ancilla watched as a huge disgusting man came up to talk to Barbosa. He seemed intrigued when he found out that fact. She tilted her head praying her defiance would show. She didn’t have to. Once he saw her collar he walked away quickly. Barbosa just glared at her and she shook with fear.
Her collar was a voice restrainer which meant, most likely, she was disobedient. She’d speak and words wouldn’t come out. No one liked a slave that talked back. Ancilla had no intention of letting someone buy her. She knew when the festival ended Barbosa would kill whoever was left and she was ready for death. She didn’t want to live her cruel life anymore and she’d rather die intact and untouched.
She didn’t pay attention to the bidding but it went quick. Some were snatched up immediately others Barbosa had to do a quick speech. Even her plain friend had been dragged off by the fat man. She was happy to see him go, most likely he couldn’t afford a second. It wasn’t cheap to buy a sex slave. Even if it was untrained.
Her turn came next. Barbosa talked about how she could make flowers grow with her song. She waited for him to remove her collar she had prepared such a cuss storm no one would ever buy her. A crowd had gathered. She actually felt a bit excited for her final act. She was chained to the center of the stage looking out.
She felt the pain not knowing at first where it came from. She would have cried out but the collar prevented her. The crowd watched in horror as Barbosa whipped her. IT was a special whip made up of energy currents. IT felt just like a belt but left no marks. It was against the law to make a slave bleed.
It was taboo and shameful to beat a slave in public even a bad one. People didn’t leave they were too stunned to turn away. Each lash Barbosa came closer to his goal. She could contain herself no longer. She burst into tears. Barbosa grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to the front of the stage.*
Her tears were a dark red. “Quick, taste her tears.” Barbosa urged to a harem girl. Her master nodded and the girl walked up. Ancilla closed her eyes.
She felt the woman’s tongue flick over her cheek and the girl giggled “It’s wine!”
The crowd erupted. Slaves were valued on their ability to stick out, in a positive way, and no one had a slave that could cry wine. It was just a rich persons bragging right. Ancilla continued to cry silently as Barbossa began the bidding. She had failed and soon she would be someone’s sex slave
