slippedhalo
author, medium, witch
- Joined
- May 11, 2006
- Posts
- 16,007
OOC: We started this in pm's but it got too long. I dodn't post all of this myself. It was 50/50 between us. The rest will make much more sense as we continue from here.
IC:
Aaja had been setting up her tent, just outside the gypsy camp of her people when a loud bang had caught her attention. Before she knew it a large, brutish arm had swung out of nowhere, knocking her down and she was picked up like a child's toy and tossed into a sack.
She had been transported for days at a time by horse and cart, then sold twice in small villiages, and transported further. She felt as if months had passed since she had seen her homeland but time was a blur to Aaja now as she was so often drugged and knocked out for further transport. Waking up in new and strange places had become routine for poor Aaja. She found in this strange land she was prized for her light eyes, fair, white skin and her hair, so red it was compared to firelight.
The slavekeepers protected her from the sunlight, trying to keep their purchase valuable but besides the respite of shade she was not treated very well in captivity. She had been sodomized twice and beaten just enough times that the captors noticed how easily she bruised and were careful to torture her in other ways, like burning the soles of her feet, or refusing her food and water for days on end. She was tired and frightened. Aaja missed her people, her family. She sat in her cage and prayed to whatever gods would listen for her freedom, or at least for a better situation than the one she was in.
OOC:Aaja
Red hair to her waist, light ice blue eyes, pale white flawless skin, long limbs, somewhat thin from recent malnourishment. 5 ft 3, firm, round ass, supple but perky size B breasts, hairless body.
She appears human but is of an unusual sort of human not recognized as belonging to any familiar race of known people. Her people are nomadic, gypsy-like and worship the land and the spirits they believe protect the land. She is a skilled herbalist and also made her living healing animals.
Jean rode swiftly down the rutted, dusty road. He wore a short riding cloak with a hood pulled over his head against the wind of his passage. He'd heard that the slaver caravan was in town, and he didn't want to pass up the chance at a new slave.
As the son of a wealthy French noble Jean felt entitled to the very best, and he was known for miles around as a bully. It wasn't that he wanted, or tried to be mean. He just liked to get his way, especially when it came to women. Although it had been decades since the right of a lord to take any woman on her wedding night, Jean still enforced the law.
Now, as he came into the town, he dismounted even as his horse was still moving. He jogged for a moment as it slowed to a walk then brought it to the nearest hitching post and payed a boy there to watch it.
Throwing his cloak over one shoulder Jean made his way to the tavern, where he knew the slavers would be staying. Inside he was directed out to the stables. There, in a circle, were several wagons, each with cages on the back. The men standing around acknowledged Jean, but went back to their conversation.
Jean made his way between the carts, inspecting each prospective slave. Finally he stopped at a particularly beautiful red head. She was like none other he'd ever seen. Pale, and her crotch, hairless. He could feel his cock grow hard in his pants.
"Are you a virgin?" He asked the girl, leaning close to the bars as he spoke.
OOC: Jean-Pierre Mallet:
Dark brown wavy hair, cropped short but not too short. He stands a rather 5' 4" but makes up for his stature by being very well muscled. He always wears at least a dagger, for defensive purposes.
Aaja looked up at the man, speaking a strange language to her. She shrugged up at him. The gruff man who'd beaten and taken her mouth to his crotch twice that morning laughed and said something uninteligible to her.
Renot laughed and said to the genteel man as he asked the slave if she was a virgin, "Oy, this one's rare, and from afar. Speaks no common. You'd have te teach her that, have to teach her much... she is indeed virginal."
"I do love to teach." Jean replied, looking the woman over again. "How much?" "One thousand and fifty floren." The man named Renot replied slyly. Jean smirked and handed the man a bulging pouch. "That should cover it, and have someone bring my horse to me. We'll go out this way," He waved his hand at the woods nearby, "Attract less attention."
With that Renot barked a few orders and one man opened the cage, while the other ran off to bring Jean's horse. Jean climbed into the cage and drew a leather collar and chain leash from his cloak.
"Alright my pretty little one," He said, and he reached around her to buckle the collar.
Aaja was confused as her slave-handler now let the man with the cloak take her away. But, she had changed hands several times now. This was one more purchase. She understood after a moment's hesitation and followed the man. Her eyes looked down at her sore feet as she walked and she wimpered softly with each step. Her owrst injuries by these slave traders had been hidden. It hurt so much to walk on burnt feet. He tugged her leash to get her to move faster but she stumbled once and cried out as a stone pricked a new burn mark in her soft, bare foot.
Jean stopped when she cried out, he was not entirely heartless. He walked back, letting the leash go slack. "What?" He asked, looking over and seeing no visible mark beyond some old bruises. Then he noticed that she was favoring her feet, shifting uncomfortably. Although he knew she didn't speak any language that he knew he nodded, "You won't be spending much time on your feet anyway." He said, grinning.
"Your horse, Sir." A man handed the reins to Jean. Jean motioned to the horse. "Get up, my little one." He said, slapping her butt gently. "Come on."
This man treated her as if he had a right to tell her what to do, more so than the slave-traders, because he didn't seem like he was even as used to having to force his will. He just expected his will to be done. She began to realize he might be her owner...her Master. She bit her lip as he looked down at her feet and then patted her bottom as he gestured to the horse. She looked from him to the horse and realized he wanted her to climb onto it's back. She was relieved he wouldn't force her to walk to wherever he was taking her so she nodded her head and moved to climb into the contraption his assistant had placed upon it's back to hold people more comfortably atop the beast. He climbed on next and Aaja hoped he would not be as cruel to her as the people who'd taken her away from her home and life in the mountains had been.
He rode so swiftly it took her breath away and she had to hang onto his broad, muscled chest tightly lest she fall from the dizzying speed of the gallop. It wasn't very long before he seemed satisfied to stop the horse and she found herself looking around to try to understand where she was and what was happening once more.
Jean felt her hang onto him and it aroused him. Seeing as she was nearly naked, only a scrap of a dress on, he could easily imagine the feel of her breasts against his... Oh... He controlled himself until they were back at the house.
He dismounted and reached up. He grabbed her waist and with little difficulty lifted her down. He held her by the arm and pulled her into the large mansion. It was made of stone in the style of the castles, but more fantastic, more decorative. The inside was just as grand and expansive.
He pulled her up a huge main staircase and through a set of doors at the top. Inside was a large fourposter bed, and a huge oaken desk. He let her go and locked the door before going back to her.
"Alright now, Slave. Strip." He ordered, then he mimed removing his shirt, "Strip." He said again, slowly.
Aaja repeated the strange word and did the task presented to her. She wasn't ashamed of her nudity only alarmed with the look in his eyes as he watched her naked.
"Good." Jean said, nodding his head, but not taking his eyes off of her. He went to her and bent down. He placed a hand on each of her thighs and pushed them apart. "Spread." He said, gripping her thighs tightly, "Spread."
Aaja tried to follow the directions of the strange man only because she had a feeling there would be dire consequences for not doing as she was told but as he motioned for her to open her legs she stopped hesitating at the idea of what he might do to her if she did.
In her culture it is forbidden to let any man besides your husband into your nether places. With women it was different, the men were away to trade for many long months and beds had to be kept warm...but no man could touch a woman who wasn't his...She had been promised to Jinja. She wondered if he would want her after her abuse from the kidnappers and the men who bought her from them...probably not. Jinja was a memory, nothing more. She would never see her home again. This man smiled at her in a way that was not unkind, a little scary to her because he wanted things she'd rather keep to herself, but he was so far not abusive about it. She decided perhaps it would be best to listen to him and forget the ways of her people for now. If her people knew all that had happened to her since her capture she would be dead to them anyway. She sat as indicated that she should, opening her legs for him to see her pale pink forbidden places. She wasn't certain where to cast her eyes so she cast them down again, at her sore, wounded and infected feet, dusty fromt he road, and waited to see what he would do.
He gave Aaja such a strange feeling to be around. On one had he was gentle and kind, yet he was firm and she could see a strong will behind his eyes. He wanted somthing from her. She could guess what, but he didn't take as quickly or forcefully as she would have expected. Instead he seemed to want to calm her, teach her even. To what avail, she was uncertain.
As he ran his hands along her skin she tried hard not to squirm away from him except when he got close to her private parts she stiffened a little. Her urge was to get up and run from him but she was afraid of bringing out rage in one so peaceful as he had been so far.
The peaceful men, the quiet ones, are like a beach right before a storm hits, Aaja's mother had told her that once. 'Never anger a quiet man. They are the most ferocious and dangerous once their temper blows.' So, Aaja settled herself and let him do what he pleased. He was not rough with her, he gently touched her labia and then ran his hands back up to her stomach and breasts. The feel of him touching and squeezing her breasts got her breathing a little faster. She was surprised at the pleasurable sensation of another's hands, big, strong hands squeezing her breasts, could bring.
While he touched her servants were milling about, bringing delectable looking foods and a drink that smelled sweet. It tempted her to look away from what was happening with her body. She was so thirsty, and she hadn't eaten in a very long time...
The servants milled around and she knew she was as distracting to them and they were to her. Their eyes on her, and on him touching her this way brough a blush to her cheeks and she looked at them watching and smiling their obvious approval and Aaja felt ashamed. But Master seemed to not care at all. So, Aaja tried to relax.
Jean nodded as she sat and spread her legs, leaning back on her hands with her knees drawn up in a position that was extremely inviting. "Good." He said, and he gently touched her head, like one would to tell a dog it has done well.
He first touched her breasts, tweaking them and squeezing them expertly. Then one hand moved downward...
He bent down and spread her pussy lips with his hand, feeling his cock growing hard in his trousers. She was indeed a virgin, he had to check for himself. And now that she was here...
He let one finger gently trace her lips, and then began to rub her clit. A few of the servants (they were almost all women) stopped to watch, and he said nothing to them. Then, suddenly he pinched her clit hard, just to see how she would react.
The pinch sent an electric sensation akin to possibly the most acutely painful thing Aaja had ever felt, next to the tortures of her time in captivity...Tears welled in her eyes as she yelped in surprise and pain.
Jean nodded sympathetically. "Just checking." He said with a sly smile, and he returned to gently rubbing his finger in circles on her clit. His other hand just brushed the skin of her breast.
"Pleasure and pain go so well together, don't they?" He asked, knowing that she wouldn't respond. He continued to pleasure her, for a few more seconds before stopping and standing up over her. He motioned for her to stand. "Come, my pet. We must clean you up." He pointed at a door across the room and waited for her enter it.
Inside was a large bathroom and a huge tub, obviously big enough for two. It was filled with steaming water. "Strip me." Jean said, motioning to himself and wondering if she would understand.
Aaja followed, trying not to wince at the pain in her feet. She looked around to see a bathing area of sorts but the water was like no mountain stream she'd ever known. It was warm and she thought it seemed like a very good idea to warm water to bathe in. It must feel wonderful!
She smiled at the sight of the virtual stream and pointed at it saying her own people's word for 'water'. "Lakula!"
He pointed to himself and said, "Strip me."
Aaja bit her lip while contimplating this word. The last time she'd heard him say 'strip' he'd wanted her to take her clothes off. Now he said another word with it and pointed to himself. 'me' must be his way of naming himself to her. Sh enodded slowly in understanding and began to undress him, looking up at his face to check by his expression if she had indeed guessed correctly and was doing what he wanted. "Me?"she said pointing to him. She then pointed to herself as she peeled away his shirt and his muscular, chestnut haired, chest presented itself to her view. "Aaja." she said, telling her name to the man with a shy smile before working at the fastenings on his breeches. They were difficult. She bit her lip again and her eyebrows knitted in concentration as she bent to the task, "No sjoelent teh opnet liev!" she murmured. (I can't seem to get these open!)
Lakula! She said, sounding very happy to see it. He smiled as she went to work, thinking how interesting it would be to teach her his language.
"Me," She pointed to him, "Aaja," She pointed to herself. Jean laughed out loud, but didn't bother to correct her, not yet. There would be time.
Once she was down to his trousers he stopped her with a laugh, she seemed frustrated by the buttons there. "Watch." He said, pointing to her eyes, then motioning down to his pants. He slowly unbuttoned them, making it clear how it was done. He let them fall, then stripped off his underpants leaving him naked and erect.
"Come." He said, walking to the tub and motioning for her to follow. He stepped in with a sigh and settled himself down in the water, looking at her expectantly.
"Lakulila met Me" said Aaja repeating his instruction back to him in her native tongue she watched him in the water. His manhood seemed to have a mind and desires of it's own, none of which she was thinking she'd be interested in but still, she needed a bath and she didn't want to risk angering this first calm, clean man she'd met in this strange land.
With a resignated sigh she stepped into the water, feeling his skin against her softer, feminine skin was a sensation she had been unprepared for. It made her feel warm in places she was certain had very little to do with the warmth of the water which was also very nice. Aaja turned her head to regard the man over her shoulder. Her eyes were large and questioning as she watched his face. What were his plans with her? Would she ever learn to get along among his kind now that she'd been torn from her own and very likely too far ruined to be acceptable by them ever again?
Once she was in the water Jean began gently massaging her shoulders. "Not Me." He said, emphasizing her mistake. "Jean." He looked down at her and smiled, pointing at himself, "Jean." He pointed at her, "Aaja." He splashed the water, "Water." He said and returned his hands to her shoulders.
Ever so slowly he let his hands move over her shoulders until they were pressing in gentle circles just above her full breasts. Then he moved them down further and squeezed rapturously, he knew she could now feel his hard manhood against her back. "Aaja, like?" He asked, not knowing if she would understand.
"Jean?" she asked, pointing at him. She then repeated his people's word for water and pointed to several other things in the room requesting a translation, then repeating these new words to herself, feeling she had so much to learn.
"Aaja like?" he asked her.
She wasn't sure what he was asking. Aaja pointed to his feet and asked what they were. When he told her she repeated it and moved on to legs, knees, arms, hands...She pointed to his manhood, her face showed her obvious fear of it but she asked what it was. "Kwarman?"
That's what her people called a man's erection. Kwar meant war, hostility, anger, and sometimes pain. Man, was what they called their men, their husbands. And when he came home from his many months of travel he usually had a very large, very hard kwarman and insisted it be tended to by his wife and if not by her then by her companion females or any females in the nearby vicinity, by force if necessary. This was why the tool of a man's sexual prowess was called his object of war among the women of her land. If a woman didn't treat her man's phallus just right, she did indeed have a sexual war on her hands...
As she asked about everything in the room he answered and tried to explain, not that she would understand, but there was always a chance. As she asked about his body he answered by moving that part and naming it. When she came to his erection he lifted his hips a little. "Erection." He said, pointing to it. He noted her fear and shook his head, "It's not bad, good... Umm..." He couldn't explain that it was a good thing, that it would make her feel good.
He put his hands on her breasts, "Breasts." He said, squeezing gently. Then he cocked his head questioningly, as if wanting to know her word for them. Then he moved one hand down her stomach to her crotch. "Vagina, pussy." He said, using both common names for her privates. He cocked his head again, waiting for her name for them.
Aaja was confused as he talked more and more about his kwarman. He seemed a little surprised that she was afraid of it. How could she not be? She'd had strangers shove theirs in her ass just days ago and she was certain they'd torn something...Her own companion, Elis, had a mate who often beat them both when he came home and would rape her companion right there in front of her because of his claim that his wife hadn't moved to service his needs fast enough, always with threats to young Aaja that the next time she was in his bed with his wife upon his return he'd rape her instead just to teach her a lesson! men were frightening creatures to her in both cultures. Jean, with his patience explanations and playful smile was unique in Aaja's experience.
As he massaged her breasts he told her the name for them. She smiled softly and sighed a bit then told him, "Mamil." She giggled at his accent as he tried to repeat the word.
His hands ventured lower and she gasped. He was in areas untouched by man again. Only her Elis had ever ventured to kiss or play with her down there. "Pussy." she repeated, blushing deeply and giggling once more. It sounded so silly. He wanted to know her word for it and she told him, "Sentilan." Her eyes misted over as she pictured Elis's sweet sentilan, something she'd never experience again...
"Mamil." He said, one hand still squeezing, massaging her breast. The other hand slowly began to rub at her pussy, his fingers didn't enter her, but played across the surface in a way that Jean knew was sure to please. "Sentilan." He repeated, drawing one finger along her opening there. Jean wondered what else they had words for... He began to rub her clitoris and looked curiously, "What is this?" He asked, knowing she would understand, he tapped gently. "What's this?" He rolled her nipple between his fingers.
He tapped gently now on the spot he'd caused pain in earlier. She laughed, "Ersag" she explained. Then she held both of her own nipples in her fingers in response to his question about them, "ittitlen" she said, repeating his own words for these things, enjoying the feel of his teaching, as he rubbed and tapped her to submission. She moaned at the feel of his fingers working her sentilan/pussy expertly.
He smiled when she named the parts he asked about. "Ersag," He said laughing and rubbing it gently, "Ittitlen," He laughed and fondled them, the names were so appropriate. He continued to pleasure her for a few more moments and then remembered something he had meant to do.
"Turn around." He said, taking his hands away and gently turning her to face him. He lifted one of her feet out of the water. "Does it hurt?" He asked, wincing as though in pain and pointing at her foot. The slavers had used her roughly, that was for sure, and for the first time in his life Jean felt bad for a slave. He picked up a cloth and gently cleaned the burns and cuts on her foot, then he cleaned the other one. "Better?" He asked, looking at her.
She knew he was asking about the pain of her feet and she nodded sadly. He was gentle in how he treated each of them, though and it did help some of the soreness to ease away. Her legs were now wrapped around him and she sat in a compromising position in his lap. His manhood was nestled just in the cleft of her labial folds, and when he moved it rubbed tantalizingly against her sensitized clitoris. She groaned as he seemed to notice too and began doing it on purpose. She was afraid if he kept this up she'd end up full of his kwarman and perhaps not enjoying that as much as these other gentle sensations he was showing her.
He moved his erection gently against her clitoris, using his hand to guide it across her. Then he pushed the tip into her, not too far for fear of hurting her. He looked questioningly at her, then slowly pushed in further. His fingers ran along her sides, and breasts as though they had minds of their own. He continued to insert himself, feeling that she was a virgin and moaning a little at how tight she was. It was almost painful, but it felt so good.
Aaja gasped softly, her breathing quickening as Jean parted her nether lips and stroked her there. His touch was disarming and despite herself she writhed toward his fingers with each stroke. Her pleasure pearl, a woman's private possession, responding to his fingers as if calling out to him. This was not to be touched by a man's hand. In her culture only 'companions' stroked one another in such a tender way, women who lived together and raised their young together.
Men were for making babies and trading the camp's goods in far off lands, women were for pleasure, love, and working the farms. This was odd behavior for a man, this tenderness, yet she could see his arousal waking and knew that there were things he could do to her no 'companion' could. This frightened her. For, though she had chosen a companion, her cousin Mierna who had already been betrothed to one of the camp elders and was big with his child, she had never been taken by a husband. She'd been used.
Her promising to Jinja was recent. He had gone off with the older men and was not to take her as his wife until springtime...she knew woman but no man in a sexual way and now she was growing apprehensive that Jean would bring this knowledge to her. Mierna has said it was painful to be ploughed by a man's kwarmen. This touching, and kissing, and sucking...it was all so nice, but she was fearful of the unknown to come.
Then, it happened, quite quickly, he took her unawares...At first Jean put just enough inside her opening that it felt to Aaja like a fat finger poking around at her. But, she knew he was holding back and there was much more where that came from. She closed her eyes and turned her head to the side, preparing for pain, and he ordered her to look at him as he pushed it further inside...
She wimpered again, just barely loud enough to hear and slowly opened her eyes to look up at him as he held her there. His eyes willing hers to stay on him. She wanted him to be happy with her, to smile at her again, so she tried valliantly to be brave for him. She concentrated on relaxing her body more instead of tensing for the pain. This relaxation caused him to slide, little, by little, further inside her hole, but to her surprise the feeling was not yet that of any sort of thing resembling pain. She gasped at the sensation of fullness,and more... a tickling sensation even, and a sort of milder mimicking of the pleasureable feeling the stroking on the outside of her gave. There was no pain so far. She relaxed further telling him with her eyes that she was ok.
Then, he pushed the rest of the way inside in one quick thrust and she gasped again as she felt a stab of pain, her eyes watered in surprise at an intense but quick prickly feeling, like being stuck by a needle that was immediatley washed away by a squishy feeling softness that followed. The pain was over before she could even make a sound against it.
Once he was fully within Jean put his hands on her firm buttocks and pulled her to him in rhythm that was slow at first, but got faster. He grunted with each thrust into, his cock was held firmly by her tightness and as he thrust he could feel her begin to clench against him. He moaned loudly with pleasure, feeling as though he would explode at any moment.
Fully under the influence of lust now he pushed her backward against the wall of tub, fully overcoming her resistance. With her pressed there his hands were free to play over her body, tweeking and pressing. Then he grabbed her thighs and pushed them further apart, allowing him to enter her as far as it was possible for him to go. He moaned loudly.
As Jean began to intensify his movements inside her she now could relax, as it didn't hurt anymore, it only felt strange, and messy, but soon the pleasurable stroking sensations deep inside were back again and she began to enjoy his motions, rocking and grinding with him as he moved inside her.
Aaja almost purred with satisfaction. She had not expected a man to ever bring her such pleasure but Jean had and then some. She looked up at him as the warm liquid filled her and wondered with a far away sort of look in her eyes if it was the seed of a man inside her and if all women grew big from this expereince or only some, or perhaps only sometimes. She really wasn't ready to have children, not as a slave but she did want to feel those sensations again many more times. She wanted to ask Jean about these things but could not think of the words to ask them and soon she let the concerns fall away for the moment as an overwhelming drowsiness overtook her. She was told to clean him with her mouth. She decided questions could wait for later. First, she had to finish what they'd begun.
Aaja licked and sucked on the long, thick, organ, hoping Jean was finding it pleasing. His taste was stronger than that of her 'companion' and saltier than she was used to, but it wasn't a foul taste at all and she thought to herself she could grow accustomed to it.
She looked up at him occasionally for instruction on what else he would like her to do to him with her mouth. She was learning quickly and his member growing in her mouth and small, lithe hands, made her feel she was doing well.
Jean leaned back against the tub as she began to suck him. His hands played with her long, beautifully red hair and he stroked the back of her head. His mouth, completely unbidden made little sounds of contentment. He had never been with a woman who had actually seemed to enjoy his attentions. Oh, he had brought plenty to a climax, but he was never sure if it was real. Aaja appeared to be truly happy to administer to him.
When he felt she had done well he stood, his penis now flaccid and limp. He stepped out of the tub and motioned for Aaja to follow. "Out." He said, and nodded when she repeated after him. "Dry me off." He instructed, giving her a towel and motioning for her to rub him down. He shivered as she obeyed, and then watched as she dried herself.
When she was throughly dry he led her into the bedroom where food had been laid out on a hastily erected table. There was only one chair at the end and Jean took it, the cold wood uncomfortable for just a moment against his naked butt. He pointed to the table in front of him, "Sit here." He said, lifting himself and sitting again to show he what he meant. "And spread." He added, hoping she would remember the instruction.
IC:
Aaja had been setting up her tent, just outside the gypsy camp of her people when a loud bang had caught her attention. Before she knew it a large, brutish arm had swung out of nowhere, knocking her down and she was picked up like a child's toy and tossed into a sack.
She had been transported for days at a time by horse and cart, then sold twice in small villiages, and transported further. She felt as if months had passed since she had seen her homeland but time was a blur to Aaja now as she was so often drugged and knocked out for further transport. Waking up in new and strange places had become routine for poor Aaja. She found in this strange land she was prized for her light eyes, fair, white skin and her hair, so red it was compared to firelight.
The slavekeepers protected her from the sunlight, trying to keep their purchase valuable but besides the respite of shade she was not treated very well in captivity. She had been sodomized twice and beaten just enough times that the captors noticed how easily she bruised and were careful to torture her in other ways, like burning the soles of her feet, or refusing her food and water for days on end. She was tired and frightened. Aaja missed her people, her family. She sat in her cage and prayed to whatever gods would listen for her freedom, or at least for a better situation than the one she was in.
OOC:Aaja
Red hair to her waist, light ice blue eyes, pale white flawless skin, long limbs, somewhat thin from recent malnourishment. 5 ft 3, firm, round ass, supple but perky size B breasts, hairless body.
She appears human but is of an unusual sort of human not recognized as belonging to any familiar race of known people. Her people are nomadic, gypsy-like and worship the land and the spirits they believe protect the land. She is a skilled herbalist and also made her living healing animals.
Jean rode swiftly down the rutted, dusty road. He wore a short riding cloak with a hood pulled over his head against the wind of his passage. He'd heard that the slaver caravan was in town, and he didn't want to pass up the chance at a new slave.
As the son of a wealthy French noble Jean felt entitled to the very best, and he was known for miles around as a bully. It wasn't that he wanted, or tried to be mean. He just liked to get his way, especially when it came to women. Although it had been decades since the right of a lord to take any woman on her wedding night, Jean still enforced the law.
Now, as he came into the town, he dismounted even as his horse was still moving. He jogged for a moment as it slowed to a walk then brought it to the nearest hitching post and payed a boy there to watch it.
Throwing his cloak over one shoulder Jean made his way to the tavern, where he knew the slavers would be staying. Inside he was directed out to the stables. There, in a circle, were several wagons, each with cages on the back. The men standing around acknowledged Jean, but went back to their conversation.
Jean made his way between the carts, inspecting each prospective slave. Finally he stopped at a particularly beautiful red head. She was like none other he'd ever seen. Pale, and her crotch, hairless. He could feel his cock grow hard in his pants.
"Are you a virgin?" He asked the girl, leaning close to the bars as he spoke.
OOC: Jean-Pierre Mallet:
Dark brown wavy hair, cropped short but not too short. He stands a rather 5' 4" but makes up for his stature by being very well muscled. He always wears at least a dagger, for defensive purposes.
Aaja looked up at the man, speaking a strange language to her. She shrugged up at him. The gruff man who'd beaten and taken her mouth to his crotch twice that morning laughed and said something uninteligible to her.
Renot laughed and said to the genteel man as he asked the slave if she was a virgin, "Oy, this one's rare, and from afar. Speaks no common. You'd have te teach her that, have to teach her much... she is indeed virginal."
"I do love to teach." Jean replied, looking the woman over again. "How much?" "One thousand and fifty floren." The man named Renot replied slyly. Jean smirked and handed the man a bulging pouch. "That should cover it, and have someone bring my horse to me. We'll go out this way," He waved his hand at the woods nearby, "Attract less attention."
With that Renot barked a few orders and one man opened the cage, while the other ran off to bring Jean's horse. Jean climbed into the cage and drew a leather collar and chain leash from his cloak.
"Alright my pretty little one," He said, and he reached around her to buckle the collar.
Aaja was confused as her slave-handler now let the man with the cloak take her away. But, she had changed hands several times now. This was one more purchase. She understood after a moment's hesitation and followed the man. Her eyes looked down at her sore feet as she walked and she wimpered softly with each step. Her owrst injuries by these slave traders had been hidden. It hurt so much to walk on burnt feet. He tugged her leash to get her to move faster but she stumbled once and cried out as a stone pricked a new burn mark in her soft, bare foot.
Jean stopped when she cried out, he was not entirely heartless. He walked back, letting the leash go slack. "What?" He asked, looking over and seeing no visible mark beyond some old bruises. Then he noticed that she was favoring her feet, shifting uncomfortably. Although he knew she didn't speak any language that he knew he nodded, "You won't be spending much time on your feet anyway." He said, grinning.
"Your horse, Sir." A man handed the reins to Jean. Jean motioned to the horse. "Get up, my little one." He said, slapping her butt gently. "Come on."
This man treated her as if he had a right to tell her what to do, more so than the slave-traders, because he didn't seem like he was even as used to having to force his will. He just expected his will to be done. She began to realize he might be her owner...her Master. She bit her lip as he looked down at her feet and then patted her bottom as he gestured to the horse. She looked from him to the horse and realized he wanted her to climb onto it's back. She was relieved he wouldn't force her to walk to wherever he was taking her so she nodded her head and moved to climb into the contraption his assistant had placed upon it's back to hold people more comfortably atop the beast. He climbed on next and Aaja hoped he would not be as cruel to her as the people who'd taken her away from her home and life in the mountains had been.
He rode so swiftly it took her breath away and she had to hang onto his broad, muscled chest tightly lest she fall from the dizzying speed of the gallop. It wasn't very long before he seemed satisfied to stop the horse and she found herself looking around to try to understand where she was and what was happening once more.
Jean felt her hang onto him and it aroused him. Seeing as she was nearly naked, only a scrap of a dress on, he could easily imagine the feel of her breasts against his... Oh... He controlled himself until they were back at the house.
He dismounted and reached up. He grabbed her waist and with little difficulty lifted her down. He held her by the arm and pulled her into the large mansion. It was made of stone in the style of the castles, but more fantastic, more decorative. The inside was just as grand and expansive.
He pulled her up a huge main staircase and through a set of doors at the top. Inside was a large fourposter bed, and a huge oaken desk. He let her go and locked the door before going back to her.
"Alright now, Slave. Strip." He ordered, then he mimed removing his shirt, "Strip." He said again, slowly.
Aaja repeated the strange word and did the task presented to her. She wasn't ashamed of her nudity only alarmed with the look in his eyes as he watched her naked.
"Good." Jean said, nodding his head, but not taking his eyes off of her. He went to her and bent down. He placed a hand on each of her thighs and pushed them apart. "Spread." He said, gripping her thighs tightly, "Spread."
Aaja tried to follow the directions of the strange man only because she had a feeling there would be dire consequences for not doing as she was told but as he motioned for her to open her legs she stopped hesitating at the idea of what he might do to her if she did.
In her culture it is forbidden to let any man besides your husband into your nether places. With women it was different, the men were away to trade for many long months and beds had to be kept warm...but no man could touch a woman who wasn't his...She had been promised to Jinja. She wondered if he would want her after her abuse from the kidnappers and the men who bought her from them...probably not. Jinja was a memory, nothing more. She would never see her home again. This man smiled at her in a way that was not unkind, a little scary to her because he wanted things she'd rather keep to herself, but he was so far not abusive about it. She decided perhaps it would be best to listen to him and forget the ways of her people for now. If her people knew all that had happened to her since her capture she would be dead to them anyway. She sat as indicated that she should, opening her legs for him to see her pale pink forbidden places. She wasn't certain where to cast her eyes so she cast them down again, at her sore, wounded and infected feet, dusty fromt he road, and waited to see what he would do.
He gave Aaja such a strange feeling to be around. On one had he was gentle and kind, yet he was firm and she could see a strong will behind his eyes. He wanted somthing from her. She could guess what, but he didn't take as quickly or forcefully as she would have expected. Instead he seemed to want to calm her, teach her even. To what avail, she was uncertain.
As he ran his hands along her skin she tried hard not to squirm away from him except when he got close to her private parts she stiffened a little. Her urge was to get up and run from him but she was afraid of bringing out rage in one so peaceful as he had been so far.
The peaceful men, the quiet ones, are like a beach right before a storm hits, Aaja's mother had told her that once. 'Never anger a quiet man. They are the most ferocious and dangerous once their temper blows.' So, Aaja settled herself and let him do what he pleased. He was not rough with her, he gently touched her labia and then ran his hands back up to her stomach and breasts. The feel of him touching and squeezing her breasts got her breathing a little faster. She was surprised at the pleasurable sensation of another's hands, big, strong hands squeezing her breasts, could bring.
While he touched her servants were milling about, bringing delectable looking foods and a drink that smelled sweet. It tempted her to look away from what was happening with her body. She was so thirsty, and she hadn't eaten in a very long time...
The servants milled around and she knew she was as distracting to them and they were to her. Their eyes on her, and on him touching her this way brough a blush to her cheeks and she looked at them watching and smiling their obvious approval and Aaja felt ashamed. But Master seemed to not care at all. So, Aaja tried to relax.
Jean nodded as she sat and spread her legs, leaning back on her hands with her knees drawn up in a position that was extremely inviting. "Good." He said, and he gently touched her head, like one would to tell a dog it has done well.
He first touched her breasts, tweaking them and squeezing them expertly. Then one hand moved downward...
He bent down and spread her pussy lips with his hand, feeling his cock growing hard in his trousers. She was indeed a virgin, he had to check for himself. And now that she was here...
He let one finger gently trace her lips, and then began to rub her clit. A few of the servants (they were almost all women) stopped to watch, and he said nothing to them. Then, suddenly he pinched her clit hard, just to see how she would react.
The pinch sent an electric sensation akin to possibly the most acutely painful thing Aaja had ever felt, next to the tortures of her time in captivity...Tears welled in her eyes as she yelped in surprise and pain.
Jean nodded sympathetically. "Just checking." He said with a sly smile, and he returned to gently rubbing his finger in circles on her clit. His other hand just brushed the skin of her breast.
"Pleasure and pain go so well together, don't they?" He asked, knowing that she wouldn't respond. He continued to pleasure her, for a few more seconds before stopping and standing up over her. He motioned for her to stand. "Come, my pet. We must clean you up." He pointed at a door across the room and waited for her enter it.
Inside was a large bathroom and a huge tub, obviously big enough for two. It was filled with steaming water. "Strip me." Jean said, motioning to himself and wondering if she would understand.
Aaja followed, trying not to wince at the pain in her feet. She looked around to see a bathing area of sorts but the water was like no mountain stream she'd ever known. It was warm and she thought it seemed like a very good idea to warm water to bathe in. It must feel wonderful!
She smiled at the sight of the virtual stream and pointed at it saying her own people's word for 'water'. "Lakula!"
He pointed to himself and said, "Strip me."
Aaja bit her lip while contimplating this word. The last time she'd heard him say 'strip' he'd wanted her to take her clothes off. Now he said another word with it and pointed to himself. 'me' must be his way of naming himself to her. Sh enodded slowly in understanding and began to undress him, looking up at his face to check by his expression if she had indeed guessed correctly and was doing what he wanted. "Me?"she said pointing to him. She then pointed to herself as she peeled away his shirt and his muscular, chestnut haired, chest presented itself to her view. "Aaja." she said, telling her name to the man with a shy smile before working at the fastenings on his breeches. They were difficult. She bit her lip again and her eyebrows knitted in concentration as she bent to the task, "No sjoelent teh opnet liev!" she murmured. (I can't seem to get these open!)
Lakula! She said, sounding very happy to see it. He smiled as she went to work, thinking how interesting it would be to teach her his language.
"Me," She pointed to him, "Aaja," She pointed to herself. Jean laughed out loud, but didn't bother to correct her, not yet. There would be time.
Once she was down to his trousers he stopped her with a laugh, she seemed frustrated by the buttons there. "Watch." He said, pointing to her eyes, then motioning down to his pants. He slowly unbuttoned them, making it clear how it was done. He let them fall, then stripped off his underpants leaving him naked and erect.
"Come." He said, walking to the tub and motioning for her to follow. He stepped in with a sigh and settled himself down in the water, looking at her expectantly.
"Lakulila met Me" said Aaja repeating his instruction back to him in her native tongue she watched him in the water. His manhood seemed to have a mind and desires of it's own, none of which she was thinking she'd be interested in but still, she needed a bath and she didn't want to risk angering this first calm, clean man she'd met in this strange land.
With a resignated sigh she stepped into the water, feeling his skin against her softer, feminine skin was a sensation she had been unprepared for. It made her feel warm in places she was certain had very little to do with the warmth of the water which was also very nice. Aaja turned her head to regard the man over her shoulder. Her eyes were large and questioning as she watched his face. What were his plans with her? Would she ever learn to get along among his kind now that she'd been torn from her own and very likely too far ruined to be acceptable by them ever again?
Once she was in the water Jean began gently massaging her shoulders. "Not Me." He said, emphasizing her mistake. "Jean." He looked down at her and smiled, pointing at himself, "Jean." He pointed at her, "Aaja." He splashed the water, "Water." He said and returned his hands to her shoulders.
Ever so slowly he let his hands move over her shoulders until they were pressing in gentle circles just above her full breasts. Then he moved them down further and squeezed rapturously, he knew she could now feel his hard manhood against her back. "Aaja, like?" He asked, not knowing if she would understand.
"Jean?" she asked, pointing at him. She then repeated his people's word for water and pointed to several other things in the room requesting a translation, then repeating these new words to herself, feeling she had so much to learn.
"Aaja like?" he asked her.
She wasn't sure what he was asking. Aaja pointed to his feet and asked what they were. When he told her she repeated it and moved on to legs, knees, arms, hands...She pointed to his manhood, her face showed her obvious fear of it but she asked what it was. "Kwarman?"
That's what her people called a man's erection. Kwar meant war, hostility, anger, and sometimes pain. Man, was what they called their men, their husbands. And when he came home from his many months of travel he usually had a very large, very hard kwarman and insisted it be tended to by his wife and if not by her then by her companion females or any females in the nearby vicinity, by force if necessary. This was why the tool of a man's sexual prowess was called his object of war among the women of her land. If a woman didn't treat her man's phallus just right, she did indeed have a sexual war on her hands...
As she asked about everything in the room he answered and tried to explain, not that she would understand, but there was always a chance. As she asked about his body he answered by moving that part and naming it. When she came to his erection he lifted his hips a little. "Erection." He said, pointing to it. He noted her fear and shook his head, "It's not bad, good... Umm..." He couldn't explain that it was a good thing, that it would make her feel good.
He put his hands on her breasts, "Breasts." He said, squeezing gently. Then he cocked his head questioningly, as if wanting to know her word for them. Then he moved one hand down her stomach to her crotch. "Vagina, pussy." He said, using both common names for her privates. He cocked his head again, waiting for her name for them.
Aaja was confused as he talked more and more about his kwarman. He seemed a little surprised that she was afraid of it. How could she not be? She'd had strangers shove theirs in her ass just days ago and she was certain they'd torn something...Her own companion, Elis, had a mate who often beat them both when he came home and would rape her companion right there in front of her because of his claim that his wife hadn't moved to service his needs fast enough, always with threats to young Aaja that the next time she was in his bed with his wife upon his return he'd rape her instead just to teach her a lesson! men were frightening creatures to her in both cultures. Jean, with his patience explanations and playful smile was unique in Aaja's experience.
As he massaged her breasts he told her the name for them. She smiled softly and sighed a bit then told him, "Mamil." She giggled at his accent as he tried to repeat the word.
His hands ventured lower and she gasped. He was in areas untouched by man again. Only her Elis had ever ventured to kiss or play with her down there. "Pussy." she repeated, blushing deeply and giggling once more. It sounded so silly. He wanted to know her word for it and she told him, "Sentilan." Her eyes misted over as she pictured Elis's sweet sentilan, something she'd never experience again...
"Mamil." He said, one hand still squeezing, massaging her breast. The other hand slowly began to rub at her pussy, his fingers didn't enter her, but played across the surface in a way that Jean knew was sure to please. "Sentilan." He repeated, drawing one finger along her opening there. Jean wondered what else they had words for... He began to rub her clitoris and looked curiously, "What is this?" He asked, knowing she would understand, he tapped gently. "What's this?" He rolled her nipple between his fingers.
He tapped gently now on the spot he'd caused pain in earlier. She laughed, "Ersag" she explained. Then she held both of her own nipples in her fingers in response to his question about them, "ittitlen" she said, repeating his own words for these things, enjoying the feel of his teaching, as he rubbed and tapped her to submission. She moaned at the feel of his fingers working her sentilan/pussy expertly.
He smiled when she named the parts he asked about. "Ersag," He said laughing and rubbing it gently, "Ittitlen," He laughed and fondled them, the names were so appropriate. He continued to pleasure her for a few more moments and then remembered something he had meant to do.
"Turn around." He said, taking his hands away and gently turning her to face him. He lifted one of her feet out of the water. "Does it hurt?" He asked, wincing as though in pain and pointing at her foot. The slavers had used her roughly, that was for sure, and for the first time in his life Jean felt bad for a slave. He picked up a cloth and gently cleaned the burns and cuts on her foot, then he cleaned the other one. "Better?" He asked, looking at her.
She knew he was asking about the pain of her feet and she nodded sadly. He was gentle in how he treated each of them, though and it did help some of the soreness to ease away. Her legs were now wrapped around him and she sat in a compromising position in his lap. His manhood was nestled just in the cleft of her labial folds, and when he moved it rubbed tantalizingly against her sensitized clitoris. She groaned as he seemed to notice too and began doing it on purpose. She was afraid if he kept this up she'd end up full of his kwarman and perhaps not enjoying that as much as these other gentle sensations he was showing her.
He moved his erection gently against her clitoris, using his hand to guide it across her. Then he pushed the tip into her, not too far for fear of hurting her. He looked questioningly at her, then slowly pushed in further. His fingers ran along her sides, and breasts as though they had minds of their own. He continued to insert himself, feeling that she was a virgin and moaning a little at how tight she was. It was almost painful, but it felt so good.
Aaja gasped softly, her breathing quickening as Jean parted her nether lips and stroked her there. His touch was disarming and despite herself she writhed toward his fingers with each stroke. Her pleasure pearl, a woman's private possession, responding to his fingers as if calling out to him. This was not to be touched by a man's hand. In her culture only 'companions' stroked one another in such a tender way, women who lived together and raised their young together.
Men were for making babies and trading the camp's goods in far off lands, women were for pleasure, love, and working the farms. This was odd behavior for a man, this tenderness, yet she could see his arousal waking and knew that there were things he could do to her no 'companion' could. This frightened her. For, though she had chosen a companion, her cousin Mierna who had already been betrothed to one of the camp elders and was big with his child, she had never been taken by a husband. She'd been used.
Her promising to Jinja was recent. He had gone off with the older men and was not to take her as his wife until springtime...she knew woman but no man in a sexual way and now she was growing apprehensive that Jean would bring this knowledge to her. Mierna has said it was painful to be ploughed by a man's kwarmen. This touching, and kissing, and sucking...it was all so nice, but she was fearful of the unknown to come.
Then, it happened, quite quickly, he took her unawares...At first Jean put just enough inside her opening that it felt to Aaja like a fat finger poking around at her. But, she knew he was holding back and there was much more where that came from. She closed her eyes and turned her head to the side, preparing for pain, and he ordered her to look at him as he pushed it further inside...
She wimpered again, just barely loud enough to hear and slowly opened her eyes to look up at him as he held her there. His eyes willing hers to stay on him. She wanted him to be happy with her, to smile at her again, so she tried valliantly to be brave for him. She concentrated on relaxing her body more instead of tensing for the pain. This relaxation caused him to slide, little, by little, further inside her hole, but to her surprise the feeling was not yet that of any sort of thing resembling pain. She gasped at the sensation of fullness,and more... a tickling sensation even, and a sort of milder mimicking of the pleasureable feeling the stroking on the outside of her gave. There was no pain so far. She relaxed further telling him with her eyes that she was ok.
Then, he pushed the rest of the way inside in one quick thrust and she gasped again as she felt a stab of pain, her eyes watered in surprise at an intense but quick prickly feeling, like being stuck by a needle that was immediatley washed away by a squishy feeling softness that followed. The pain was over before she could even make a sound against it.
Once he was fully within Jean put his hands on her firm buttocks and pulled her to him in rhythm that was slow at first, but got faster. He grunted with each thrust into, his cock was held firmly by her tightness and as he thrust he could feel her begin to clench against him. He moaned loudly with pleasure, feeling as though he would explode at any moment.
Fully under the influence of lust now he pushed her backward against the wall of tub, fully overcoming her resistance. With her pressed there his hands were free to play over her body, tweeking and pressing. Then he grabbed her thighs and pushed them further apart, allowing him to enter her as far as it was possible for him to go. He moaned loudly.
As Jean began to intensify his movements inside her she now could relax, as it didn't hurt anymore, it only felt strange, and messy, but soon the pleasurable stroking sensations deep inside were back again and she began to enjoy his motions, rocking and grinding with him as he moved inside her.
Aaja almost purred with satisfaction. She had not expected a man to ever bring her such pleasure but Jean had and then some. She looked up at him as the warm liquid filled her and wondered with a far away sort of look in her eyes if it was the seed of a man inside her and if all women grew big from this expereince or only some, or perhaps only sometimes. She really wasn't ready to have children, not as a slave but she did want to feel those sensations again many more times. She wanted to ask Jean about these things but could not think of the words to ask them and soon she let the concerns fall away for the moment as an overwhelming drowsiness overtook her. She was told to clean him with her mouth. She decided questions could wait for later. First, she had to finish what they'd begun.
Aaja licked and sucked on the long, thick, organ, hoping Jean was finding it pleasing. His taste was stronger than that of her 'companion' and saltier than she was used to, but it wasn't a foul taste at all and she thought to herself she could grow accustomed to it.
She looked up at him occasionally for instruction on what else he would like her to do to him with her mouth. She was learning quickly and his member growing in her mouth and small, lithe hands, made her feel she was doing well.
Jean leaned back against the tub as she began to suck him. His hands played with her long, beautifully red hair and he stroked the back of her head. His mouth, completely unbidden made little sounds of contentment. He had never been with a woman who had actually seemed to enjoy his attentions. Oh, he had brought plenty to a climax, but he was never sure if it was real. Aaja appeared to be truly happy to administer to him.
When he felt she had done well he stood, his penis now flaccid and limp. He stepped out of the tub and motioned for Aaja to follow. "Out." He said, and nodded when she repeated after him. "Dry me off." He instructed, giving her a towel and motioning for her to rub him down. He shivered as she obeyed, and then watched as she dried herself.
When she was throughly dry he led her into the bedroom where food had been laid out on a hastily erected table. There was only one chair at the end and Jean took it, the cold wood uncomfortable for just a moment against his naked butt. He pointed to the table in front of him, "Sit here." He said, lifting himself and sitting again to show he what he meant. "And spread." He added, hoping she would remember the instruction.
