Slave To Love

[R Nitelight]

OOC: Cleon: Famous mercenary. . 30 years old. 5'10" 210. Scarred and muscular body. Body and head shaved except for long red topknot that runs down his back.
IC:
It was a beautiful day in the Kennis Empire. The sun was shining, a cool breeze blew in off the ocean, and the old king was dead, his head mounted on a spike outside the castle walls.
The new king -- my client -- was quite generous in victory. My purse was fat with gold. It was my intention to friviously reintroduce it to the local economy with the aid of false friends, watered wine, and professional women. On my way to the celebration, however, I had to pass the slave pens. It was there I spotted her, standing proud and beautiful on the auction block. I instantly had a better idea as to where to waste my gold....

 

[Arielle]

ooc: Imogen. 22 yr old slave girl. 5'7", big brown eyes that cloaked the misery that she felt inside, long dirty blonde hair kept in a plait that hung below her waist.

ic: She stood on the auction block located in the center of the slave pens with her head held high. This was not the first time that she had been in this situation. She glanced at the throng of men crowded around the block scrutinizing her every detail, wishing that the whole fuss would be over with quickly.

She knew that there would be huge changes to life in the Empire after the overthrow, hoping that they would be for the better, but after hearing the rumours about the knew king she was doubtful.

She could just make out the ocean from where she stood and wondered if one day she would get the oppertunity to find out what lies beyond its glistening blue surface.

Her attention was diverted back to the auction after hearing the shouts of the men bidding for her services. Inwardly she groaned, hoping that her new master would have a good heart, something which she had not come across since her mother died many many years ago.

 

[R Nitelight]

Cleon

The tightly packed crowd parted and I made my way toward the block. I could hear my name whispered by a thousand lips. The auction stopped as I made my way up the stairs and walked toward the girl. I examined her carefully, and found her to my liking.
"What is the current bid?" I asked the slave trader.
"Four hundred links of gold," he said. "But the bidding has just begun."
"I bid thirty links," I said.
"Bu-bu-but, that would be less....." he sputtered.
"I believe the other bidders have changed their minds," I said loudly, casting a menacing glance at the grumbling mob.
"Sold, to Cleon the Red, for thirty links," the auctioneer announced bitterly.

 

[Arielle]

My eyes darted towards the man striding through the parted crowd. My heart sank as I realised that he was Cleon the Red, the famous mercenary. I had heard of his feats, so too had the crowd judging from ripple of whispers that spread throughout.

"Sold, to Cleon the Red, for thirty links."

I had been resigned to my fate. Slowly I kneeled before my new master and bowed my head, waiting for my first instruction.

 

[R Nitelight]

Cleon

I took the leash and jerked the girl to her feet.
"Follow me," I ordered.

I stopped a guard and asked directions to the nearest blacksmith. There, I ordered him to remove the girl's slave collar.
"That is forbidden, Great Cleon," he said, cowering before me. "The courts would strike off my hands if they found out...."
"Do you know my reputation, fool?" I asked. He nodded, and I said, "I'd take my chances with the court."
He went in the back and returned with a tool. Minutes later the girl was free. I filled her small hands with gold and simply said, "Go."
"But why?" she asked, scarcely believing her good fortune.
"My mother was a slave," I confessed. "It's not a pleasant life."
I turned and walked away.
"Master!" she called out to me. "Master! Cleon!"
I stopped when she used my name, but I didn't turn around.
"I have nowhere to go," she said softly.
"Come, then," I said, shaking my head at the strange twists of fate the gods insisted on tossing in your path.

[Edited by R Nitelight on 10-22-2000 at 08:48 AM]

 

[Arielle]

Cleon took the leash attached to the collar around my neck, and I couldn't help but notice how strong his hands were. He led me to the local blacksmith, and I was dumbfounded when he ordered the collar to be removed from my neck.

Once the collar was removed, Cleon filled my hands with gold, and told me to go. Go where?, was my initial thought, then realising he meant that I was free to go. I looked up to the heavens, "thankyou mother" I whispered.

"But why?" I asked, still hardly believing what was actually taking place. I learnt that his mother too was a slave. I looked at him in amazement, wanting to throw myself at his feet and kiss them. Cleon, the famous mercenary...from a slave background, I could hardly believe it.

"Master! Master! Cleon!" I called out anxiously as he turned and began to walk away, realising that I had no where to go. I had been a slave all my life, now I felt like a snail who had lost it's shell.

"Come, then," he replied, shaking his head.
"I do not wish to be a burden on you Master" I said uncertainly, not wishing to anger him, fearful of the consequences.

 

[R Nitelight]

Cleon

It was a long walk back to my estate. The girl lagged behind me, but kept up to the best of her ability. When I reached the front door, I stood and waited for her. We entered the house together.
The major domo bowed before me. If he was surprised at the sight of a houseguest, he professionally showed no sign of it.
"This is.........the girl," I said, wishing I had taken a moment to ask her name. "Clean her up, feed her, and give her a place to sleep. I will be meditating. Do not disturb me."
I was walking toward the wide marble staircase when I heard the girl shout, "My name is Imogen, Master!"
Imogen. Shaking my head, I dismissed her from my thoughts and started to clear my mind.

 

[ranajja]

From inside the curtains of her slave-borne carriage, she watched the infamous mercenary walk off, enjoying the way his body moved—strong, graceful, sensuous--his stride long and purposeful, his newly purchased slave-girl following demurely behind him. Cleon the Red, she thought, mmmm…my dear girl, I almost envy you tonight…

Returning her attention to the auction block, Lady Anguilla eyed the remaining slaves for sale through the slit in the curtains. She was doing what she loved most—shopping--and from behind silken curtains, she viewed the slaves, the spoils of war, as they approached the auction block.

She lounged on her side among the myriad of pillows on her litter, and squeezed her thighs together in delightful anticipation…

It was the practice of this auction to bring out the healthiest, strongest, most desirable slaves first…and it was her practice to bid only on the best…

As if on cue, he was brought out…tanned, muscular, strong…and delightfully handsome…his hands were bound with ropes and heavy chains, as were his ankles. His mouth was expressionless as he was pulled forward onto the block. He stared straight ahead as he was displayed before the bidders. His eyes were…unreadable…

She licked her lips as she eyed him up and down. He had been oiled to accent the curve of each muscle, his skin glistened in the sun.

She lay back onto her pillows, her legs slightly apart…the shift of weight was the cue to her accountant, riding atop the litter, to be the highest bidder on this slave…

She smiled as she traced her fingers lightly along the inside of one thigh…

Ah, yes, quite acceptable….

 

[DriveSouth]

The battled had come upon the farms of the out lying areas without warning. Jireel and his family were in the middle of the harvest.

The armies met on his threshing floor and there was nothing left, save Jireel – no house – no harvest – no family - no nothing – save Jireel.

Jireel fled to the city as soon as darkness provided cover.

###### ####### #######

When the ball rolled out onto the cobblestone street, the small child followed without thought…..

The ”Royal Precession,” proceeded – seemingly void of any thought as to what crossed it’s path…..

Instinctive, the force of nature, some deeper voice called and before he thought, Jireel was in the street, tumbling the child out of the path, causing the procession to halt…..

Seize him!!!! Cried the mounted captain and off they took him.

####### ####### #######


He stood on the block, the crowd looked him over. Some, the more interested inspected closer, prodded, look for flaws in his teeth, felt his taut, sinewy legs and arms, inquired of his age.

He faced them unsure how this was to proceed when the bidding started. The language of the conquerors was strange and he understood none of it.

When the messenger from the carriage approached the auctioneer, his message was delivered secretly. The auctioneer gestured and the guards removed Jireel from the block and bound him for transport.

[Edited by DriveSouth on 10-31-2000 at 07:45 AM]

 

[DriveSouth]

Use Me!

Her words were brief and to the point, “See if he works, clean him up.”

What could she possible mean by this Jireel thought but did not linger on the thought. He knew that he was in no position to inquire, he knew he would find out all too soon.

No sooner had her words trailed off that her attendants seized hold of him. It was an odd seizure for him, the attendants were apparently all females, at least that was Jireel’s perception. They “strong armed” him down near the marble bathing pool that highlighted the portico.

Like ants at a picnic they swarmed around him. Hands reached, pulled, untied, and removed clothing. In an instant he had been stripped, laid bare before all, before her. They lead him to a marble slab near the side of the pool. He was stretched out on his back in a prone position, hands were tied above his head and his feet were bound to the legs of the cold stone table.

Their hands were all over him, they touched, felt and generally inspected him from head to toe and left nothing in between unexplored. The cold stone slab pressed against his back. The warm fingers and hands of the attendants plied his flesh and aroused his sleeping desire. He fought off the desire, feeling it misplaced.

The attendants increased the intensity of their contact. Soon the attendant who had seemed to control the others knelt before his engorged shaft. She motioned to the others and they sprang to the task that each had been given.

The soft gentle feel of breath on his neck intensified his feelings and to feel it on both side at once was nearly too intense. The last two girls moved into position to tease, taunt his nipples. They pinched them, rolling them between index fingers and thumbs; they sucked them and nibbled them.

The girl kneeling took him in her hand, with deliberate strokes she began teasing him. Jireel fought the urges to let go and enjoy. His mind struggled to control himself, his desire. The force of the strokes picked up, causing Jireel to lose ground in the struggle to keep control. As the girl’s free hand moved to gently cup the sensitive underside of his balls, he felt the end, felt the beginnings of his orgasm stir.

The young attendant to his right moved her mouth and delicately covered his, and with her tongue she parted his lips and swirled her tongue into his mouth calling for him to release his hold on passion. Her softness and the gentle control she wielded took him and he gave up the struggle. He returned her kisses, with fervor unleashed he searched her mouth with his tongue, attempting to know each tiny hiding place for desire.

His hips arched to meet the next stroke, reached for the urge to let go.

And now he did, did let go, did enjoy the passion in the last fleeting seconds of the moment. The hot stream that carried his seed burst forth, splashing onto his rippled belly.

The lady looked on, a witness to the events that had transpired – “He works just fine, clean him up now and complete preparations.”

 

[ranajja]

Lady Anguilla sat at her marble vanity, eyes closed, enjoying the feel of the hairbrush as her attendant pulled it languidly through her long dark hair. The soft folds of her sheer silken robe felt delicious against her bare skin.
She heard the soft footsteps of her accountant as she entered the room.

“He is ready, my lady.”

Another stroke, then she turned her head slightly. “Did you personally observe his cleansing? Was it ...thorough?”

A pause. “Yes, my lady.”

Lady Anguilla allowed herself a small smile. “Good. Have him brought to the viewing room.”

“Yes, my lady,” and bowing slightly, she left the room.

At a gesture, the attendant deftly gathered Lady Anguilla’s dark locks and expertly twisted and tugged. When she was satisfied, she quickly inserted a jewel studded comb, just so... She stepped in front, scrutinizing her work,
pulling soft tendrils to gently frame the heart-shaped face.

Lady Anguilla slowly opened her eyes, instantly catching the spark of desire in the attendant’s eyes before she demurely looked away. Hiding a smile, Lady Anguilla dismissed the attendant and, chilled goblet of wine in hand,
she retired to her viewing room--an open area, lush with plants and flowers, with a raised round platform in the center, which was strewn with pillows and soft furs.

Despite her outward calm, inside she was tingling with anticipation. She hungered for the new, for the unconquered, the unknown. Her soft slippers whispered on the smooth tiles as she crossed to a bed of cushions across
from the platform, just in the shadows, where she could see, yet not be seen. She lounged in the luxuriantly soft cushions and sipped her wine and waited for her newest purchase to arrive....

 

[ranajja]

She did not wait for long. With the faintest of giggles, the girls brought him into the room, their hands dancing across his skin, lips leaving light kisses and bites…

Lady Anguillla watched, lips parted slightly, eyes roving, devouring his body, as they led him onto the round platform. He stepped slowly up, then stood, motionless, expressionless, as a statue…unaffected by the attention, by their nearness…

She watched them play with him, tease him, kiss him…when the sound of the giggling passed tolerable levels, Lady Anguilla clapped her hands twice. The girls immediately left the room, giggles fading with them.

Motionless he remained, expressionless, face a stone save for the rare slow blink, the gentle rise and fall of his chest the only evidence of life.

Lady Anguilla stood and crossed to him, her eyes rarely left his face, his body. She began to pace a slow circle around him, occasionally sipping her wine, speaking softly.

“I am Lady Anguilla, Jireel. I am a collector, of sorts. I have a delectable collection of slaves, whose sole purpose is to pleasure me. You are my latest addition."

She sipped her wine, then continued, "Sadly, I bore easily and am continuously making new purchases. And to each one, I pose the following challenge." She stole a glance at his face--nothing. She went on, "Make me happy, Jireel, and I will reward you well. Keep my interest for a year, and not only will I give you a handsome purse,” she paused…still no response…then continued, “Pleasure me, entertain me for a year, Jireel, and I will grant your freedom, as well.” Ah, now that produced a response, as his emotionless eyes moved slowly and locked onto hers. A shiver of anticipation raced over her skin. She would have those lips, those eyes, those hands, caressing her body soon…very soon…

 

[DriveSouth]

Stark naked Jireel stood there, exposed - - -

Long past humiliation, he had reached the point of resignation, resigned to his fate. He stood there looking forward, seemingly oblivious to the gaggle of females who now paraded him around. They led him to what appeared to be some sort of viewing room where they directed him to a raised pedestal in the center of the room.

The gaggle giggled and abruptly vanished at the sharp handclap that came from out of view.

The obvious Lady of the manner appeared and goblet in hand strolled across the room and right up to him. Jireel’s head turned to the floor, not daring to look upon the Lady. He stood before her and listened to her words, listened to her story of boredom.

Finally, he lifted his head enough to catch her eye. Her words raced through his head and he searched for words.

“My Lady,” he spoke, “I’m a poor farmer, a peasant. My family has just been wiped out by your army, surely there is a more suitable to your needs.”

 

[DriveSouth]

What should be his next move, his next words? He broke the silence, "My Lady, what would you have me do?"

Would you have me fail in an effort to pleasure you, to entertain you?

No, that would gain you little. I am a dirt farmer with no experience in the pleasures of the flesh and your desire for pleasure and entertainment might likely unfulfilled if I am forced to comply.

I beg you, free me now that I may be on my way and your search for fulfillment can begin in earnest.

 

[ranajja]

She stepped quickly to him, placed two fingers softly over his lips. Beneath the heavy ermine trimmed white robe, her skin burned for his touch…and yet…

His fierce vulnerability was almost too much to bear…called to her like a siren…

She opened her robe, her bare skin separated from his by the sheerest of garments…she removed her robe, and draped it around him…it had actually belonged to a former lover, and the cut of it suited him well…

The sheer fabric draped seductively over one shoulder, flowing down, accentuating every curve…she smiled as his eyes traveled down, to her breasts, her waist, her hips, her legs, her slippered feet…

She ached to draw him close, to feel his strong arms around her, to taste his lips, his tongue, his skin….

Yet, she held herself in check…he was much like a wild caged animal…she had to bring him to her slowly…subtly…sweetly…

“Come,” she said softly, as she turned from him…

 

[DriveSouth]

Jireel’s thought turned to freedom, to be free again. Would she honor her word? Jireel hardly thought so – this may be his best/only chance at escape. They had been left alone as best as he could tell.

As he followed in her steps, he could not help but notice the shape of her hips as she lead him from the room. Nice he thought, but no, keep your mind on the task at hand, freedom, escape. She led him into a bedroom, her bedroom. Still no sign of guards, still alone.

Her steps slowed as she approached the bed and Jireel thought now or never-

In a flash he made up the distance between them and abruptly seized her wrists, and pulling them behind her he forced her face down onto the bed…

Ripping a strip of material from her flimsy cover, he began to tie her wrist there. As the knot tightened he leaned forward and teasingly breathed onto her neck, ”My Lady, if only I had time to please you, you’d free all others, but for now, you’ll just have to imagine ......”

 

[ranajja]

Ahhh…the electricity of his touch…rough, strong…the feel of his breath, hot against her neck, her exposed shoulder…

A soft groan escaped her lips…”please. Ohhh, please…” The words were formed and uttered before she could stop them…

This was…so delightfully unexpected…desperately, she tried to collect her wits…she laughed slightly as she tried to form a coherent thought…

Her laughter seemed to make him pause…would he take it as a challenge? To this futile attempt for instant freedom, or a challenge to his sexual prowess?

Vainly she tried to slow her pounding heart…his nearness, his heat, his hardness…was too much…to maintain control…

 

[DriveSouth]

You'll be mine!!!

He forced her onto her back and growled at her – “Laugh, you laugh at me!” His hands held her neck, felt her softness, “You laugh at me for desiring my freedom, I should not allow you to see tomorrow.”

“You make vain promises about freedom – “IF” - I please, I don’t think I’ll take a chance on that…

As if you think, I have no chance of pleasing you. Were I to take the time you’d be pleased, you be pampered like never before. Your body would be alive like never before, like a raging fire, like a crashing wave you would surrender yourself.

Pleasure? Have you ever known pleasure? Have you ever surrendered yourself?

Nevertheless - The question now is will you live…

 

[ranajja]

“Will I live?” she laughed, “Oh, my dear,” she went limp, and when she felt he’d lost his balance, she twisted to face him…pulling her exquisitely bound wrists sharply behind her.

“Pleasure?” she said to him, haughtily, “what know you of pleasure? You seem trainable, nothing more.”

She sneered at him, prettily, which served only to inflame the heat between her legs…

“Now, release me, and behave yourself, and I may yet allow you to live.”

She managed to keep her voice steady, but her heart beat so hard, so fast…

She needed his lips to ravish her own…

 

[DriveSouth]

What was coming over him, why would he risk his chance to prove her wrong over such a trivial issue?

He had known pleasure, he had given pleasure. However, that was different than this, that was with his wife, and that had ended just days ago, during the battle.

Now, to turn that off and pleasure this royal beauty, a challenge

His hand filled with her hair and he looked deep into her eyes, he saw no feelings and he wondered if she really knew pleasure, wondered if she’d know pleasure if he were to give in.

Taking a deep breath, Jireel closed his eyes and pressed his lips to hers. He moved his tongue to her lips and she sucked it into her mouth, she was afire with passion and left little to be guessed at.

He broke the kiss and once more looked into her eyes “Free me?”

 

[ranajja]

The kiss…deep and breath-taking…little did he know that when he broke it off, she would have given him anything, anything…

Ah, but one must at least try to keep up appearances…

“Free you? Now? When you’ve done nothing to deserve it? Really, slave…" she forced a laugh, then, condescendingly, she sneered, "Release me at once.”

Ludicrous, she knew—her hands bound behind her, her eyes held his…she could drown in his eyes…her lips burned for his lips, his tongue…

 

[DriveSouth]

Jireel forced himself closer to her, forcing himself between her thighs, his knee pressed into her as he once more kissed her deeply.

His anger welled up inside him as he kissed her and he abandoned control, shoving his tongue into her mouth, he forced it deep into her mouth.

“If she wants me to EARN it then I’ll get my share of pleasure as well.” He thought as he again broke the kiss. This time his hand filled with her hair forced her head to the left, exposing the soft curve of her neck.

His teeth marked her neck as he bit her; she gasped and strained to expose all of her neck, her shoulders. His bite turned to sucking, nibbling, and pulling.

Closer, deeper into her sweet vulnerable private place he pressed.

 

[ranajja]

She felt his hard thigh separate her legs, press inward, pressing hard against her sensitive mound. His lips, his teeth…demanding, savage, exciting…his tongue conquering hers, ravishing her mouth…

Then, he broke the kiss as he forced her head to the side, exposing her tender neck…his kisses became biting, sharp…and marking her skin, marking her as his…

The sheer gauzy fabric tightened against her breasts, her nipples hard…betraying her, begging for the attention of his lips, his tongue, his teeth…

 

[DriveSouth]

Jireel pulled away, his eyes drank in her beauty; they roam over her body, savoring each exquisite detail. Her soft hair, like snow drifts piled around her head – her shoulders, now exposed by the tussle they’d just shared – her delicate hands, now bound together and jutting from beneath her to her left side – her thighs, now laid bare, parted slightly – her stiff nipples, reaching up to him, calling to him.

He moved a hand from her hair and began tracing the outline of her right breast, his index finger moved around the underside of the mound, making a slight upward movement as he explored the valley between her breast. His finger now moved beneath her left breast and around the side. He continued the tracing, a slow spiraling motion towards her nipple, gradually moving closer to her brown pointy nipple, creeping closer, ever closer until his finger moved around her aerolae. Her pleasure was obvious, her aerolae, swollen with desire, made a tight brown pedestal for her nipples. Her nipples ached and pressed upward and as his finger finally reached the apex he allowed his finger to stop –

“My lady, here I have obvious evidence of pleasure, free me.”

 

[DriveSouth]

Wait - Wait - They went that way....

Stirrings in the hallway snatched Jireel back to reality –

It did not sound like guards, more like the gaggle of girls who had accompanied him to this point. Regardless, if he were to be free, he could not squander this opportunity. He bolted to the window and eased his head around the material draped there.

No one in sight - no guards - no stable boys down by the horses...

Jireel turned, stepping back to the bed, “My Lady, I think I shall have my freedom and that you shall have your pleasure as well!”

Sliding his hands under her arms he lifted her. He bent and shouldered her, bent at the waist; she flopped over his broad shoulders.

He stepped out of the low window and hurried across the open yard to the watering trough where several horses were tied. He untied a spirited black steed and in a smooth motion Jireel heaved her across the back of the horse and mounted in one step.

He kicked the flanks of the sleek steed and reigned him through the narrow gate near the corner. Another kick yielded a burst from the horse that had them over the crest of a small ridge and into the bed of a small creek that flowed in thick cover. Once in the cover of the trees and the water Jireel slowed the animal to a walk.




[Edited by DriveSouth on 11-27-2000 at 12:50 PM]