Masked Desire – Fable of Swords.

The true depths to which Lady Dominique would go to defend what is hers was only now being known.  Behind the green eyes, and the beautiful smile, lay the beating heart of a true demon.  Only thing was….she was human.  This night would now bring the players to her game table.  Nobles that wished to partake in sins of the flesh.  A gathering of her faithful – masked from the light.

The Slave Market and Spa

Co-written with Moo and Chor.

Moo:


Ava smirked as her stirring slowed gradually to a stop. Dominique’s grin was enough to give her an answer; she would in fact have a special job to do this evening. The woman lifted her drink and took a long sip as she listened to the ginger talk. With a small and thoughtful mmm, Ava set it back down on the bar and licked her lips. “I would be glad to ease the weight from your shoulders,” she prompted. The explanation that followed wasn’t what she had expected completely. But knocking a man down a few pegs would always be payment enough for the woman. Not to mention the damage he had probably done was something to her property here in the slave market. He sounded like a pig…like someone she might enjoy toying with. “I’m listening…” Her elbow rested against the bar as she leaned forward to show her interest in the job. A small heh and she was grabbing the bag of coin, weighing it in her hand as she listened to the rest. Her eyes lifted to meet Dominique’s, a small and playful grin settling on her lips. “Of course. You have my word it will be done tonight.” At this point, the compensation meant less to her than the joy of seeing the scum grovel at her feet. “He’ll be left with nothing but his humiliation…” Strip the man of his pride along with everything else. What a refreshing…and appealing thought.

Razorbackwriter:  

The Slave Market and Spa

Oh how Dominique adored hearing words of acceptance to the idea of cheating this horrid wife beating scum out of everything. It was almost as delicious as eating a favorite fruit. The slave Mistress knew well of Ava’s views on the types of men that treated women no better than dogs. One thing that the shared was that while they did buy and sell people for the use of pleasurable entertainment, they did their best to ensure that they were treated as valuable commodities. No expense was spared to make sure they were healthy and kept clean with decent quarters. Dominique ran one of the most exclusive spas in the city, and there was high expectations in just what her clients paid for. The niece of the King liked to think of her establishment as a pleasure dome – a place where all your cares were swept away and you were made to feel like royalty and treated to such glorious attentions. From bathing, massages and of course naughty nocturnal activities. Her events were more like theatrical styled plays where the customers became seduced into the luxurious settings and entertained by all manner of troupes and luscious ladies that tended to your every need and desire.

With Ava accepting the offered coins to be the wagers played in the game of chance, the woman would not have to spend a coin of her own money. The rewards however….oh the personal gratification would be worth its weight in gold and a memory to hold for a lifetime.

“Very good. Very good.” Rising from her chair, Dominique felt the sheer fabric of a fine shawl being draped over her shoulders by her ever attentive Tim. “I would like a full blow…by blow account when this is done, my dear.” Dominique batted her eyelashes as she flashed a wicked smile. “I so look forward to our next meeting.” That said, Dominique moved from the table, Tim only stopping to bow graciously before Ava, as a servant brought up payment for the slaves which she had delivered prior to the Ladies having a little drink.

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“With our Mistresses esteemed compliments.” There was more than enough that covered payment for the slaves of that day.

~RB~

Moo: Ava smiled as she watched Dominique rise from her chair. “I’ll be sure to save all the juicy details for you,” she returned easily. The woman was more than content to share the wicked humility she would put that gentleman through, especially with the likes of Dominique. The redhead stated the very thoughts passing through Ava’s mind, leaving her to nod subtly. “As do I,” she agreed before she stood. The redhead would be leaving the table to attend to her usual duties, it seemed. Not a problem for Ava, as she could leave the spa and continue on with her evening before her special date later tonight. She looked to Tim, who was already bowing. She gave him a nod of respect before turning her attention to the nearing servant, taking payment for the slaves she brought in today. More than enough, actually. “Thank you, darling.” Ava reached into the pouch, taking out a coin to look at before stuffing it back in. “I’ll see myself out.” With a broad smile, she began walking away, and out the door back to her carriage. Tonight was about to be one of the most entertaining yet…

Razorbackwriter:  

The Slave market and Spa

Watching Ava take her leave through the grand gates, she would have seen the arriving procession of carriages all of which had black curtains to shield the nobles faces from the gazes of those on the streets. Each one that stopped had a masked man or woman exit. Each wore masks upon their faces to conceal their identities. The affair of Lady Dominique was strictly invite only, and she made sure that discretion was of the utmost importance. All the workers scattered from within the courtyard as the sound of strange music and drums could be heard, to herald the arrival of the esteemed guests.

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At the gate, two guards, whose faces were also covered, to only show their eyes took the parchment scrolls from each guest – checking them for authenticity. Scanning the scripture and the seal of De shea. Once accepted, they were handed back. A gloved hand gestured for the guests to enter the gates, one at a time. Silence befell them as on the balcony Dominique disappeared within the doors to her private chambers. There, she had four servants, all wearing masks on their faces. Dominique moved to the center of the room, and she extended her arms as her clothing was all carefully removed. it was almost like a ritual of sorts. The only male present was Tim – who stood well back as he too was being changed into the robes of the De Shea. He watched on, as Dominique was washed down, from head to foot with various sponges and cloths. Oils were rubbed into her skin, and hair plucked from places to show she was clean shaven. Perfect. Her ginger curls were brushed out till they shone – flowing down her back till it reached the very base of her back. Just resting on the rise of her rounded backside. A golden mask was fitted to her face, to shield her from the gaze of those males that may guess to who lay behind it. It was all part of the game. Finally, when dried off, she was dressed. A stunning black robe that pooled onto the floor at her feet. Each foot was lifted with care, and golden threaded sandals were fitted carefully by a servant that knelled on the ground before their Mistress. The air in her chamber was rich with burning incense, that wafted about those in the room. Almost intoxicating and added to the magic as the doors were finally opened to allow the Mistress to join with the honored guests at her night affair.

The party to end them all.

Walking with purpose, Dominique headed out and down the right passage, going down the stairs slowly to see the torch bearers ready to illuminate the path as she passed each with her head held high. Like some grand priestess, this was how the night was to be played out.

Already in the main audience chamber, those that had arrived early were already feasting upon the flesh of the masked – yet naked slaves. Men and women alike. The cries and moans of pleasure melded with the music, and as Dominique walked amongest it all, she felt her own heart start to beat faster. Sin…debauchery. This was the devil’s playground and it all belonged to her.

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If only….if only she could dance with Him upon her silk sheets, and let him drink of her sweet nectar…one last time.

The chosen male that she had picked from the line up was already waiting. He had been stroking himself into readiness as the Mistress made a bee line for him. In behind, Tim watched on. He wore his mask and he did not partake in the festivities, but no doubt his dreams would be filled with the decadent images of what he was to see. The pounding of drums continued on….the lone singer sang in an Indian chant and it was to this rhythm that the orgy got into full swing.

~RB~

Chor:  The Lady De shea’s orgies were such quiet – well, that may not be the right term- and personal affairs. There was a list and if you weren’t printed on the beautiful cut parchment then you might as well be street-scum for this coveted occasion. It wasn’t exceptionally often that the Lady had such parties, but when she did it was a special, special place at the market. Much to her surprise, she was asked to- instead of dealing with the rest of the slaves as she normally would- assist in the bathing and dressing of the Lady. This was an honour she could not pass down. The man who informed her, though not to her face and very much behind her back to another giggling housemaiden, that she ought to keep her robes on. Ashamed, she confined herself to the bathhouse until called upon to the Mistress’ quarters to ready her for the grand orgy that was to occur in a short time. As Mala went about washing the Lady’s thin form, she could only think of how beautiful the woman was. The clear, flawless skin and the untouched and perfect bone structure. What Mala really found herself jealous of was the Lady’s hair. Long and soft, curling as she held it and ran a brush through it. Eventually, the time came for the event to begin.

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Mala was dressed in her own black robe and mask. She steered particularly clear of most of the commotion and kept to the shadows, watching the event from the sidelines. She was secretly relieved she didn’t have to participate. This kind of thing wasn’t really part of her niche, but if told to she would oblige. At this moment, though, her participation would be an embarrassment and dampen on the whole party.

Razorbackwriter:  

The Slave Markets and Spa

If you have ever seen the frantic pace in which a beehive lives and breathes, you could say that it was something to be compared to what was taking place before Mala’s eyes. So many moving around in ritualistic movements that were done not so much by thought but by instinct. At the center of it all was the Hive’s Queen, or rather Lady Dominique. Having her robe removed by two muscular slaves with masks on and nothing else, she straddled her chosen lover for the night and rode him as though he was a prized stallion. There was no love, no emotion – just a raw display of the power that this woman had. In fact, many stopped midway through their own ministrations to take in the event unfolding. The loud grunts from her chosen and the sweat riddled face that was shielded behind the mask – stared up at his Mistress as though he was enthralled by her, as most were. But if only they knew what was going on in Dominique’s own mind. She was a million miles away with the lover of her dreams. The King. Well before his sickness, when he was the proud and powerful monarch of the lands.

It was the King who had her love, captured as though a butterfly within a jar. There was simply no escape, and there was no air in which to breathe. It would eventually suffocate and die from the starvation of the life giving air, or in this case love.

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As the robed guests milled around, and either partook, or simply enjoyed the voyeuristic pleasures to come from watching Dominique and the others – Tim moved in beside Mala. he was aware of who she was by the markings on the mask. It was his way of keeping track of just who was who and who was WITH who. Call it cataloging, or more like a type of branding that didn’t mark the skin at all. His masked face turned towards Mala, who would have been completely unaware of the Mistress’s deal with Ava. He was of course sworn to the secrecy of the Lady’s plans, but he did have one thing to whisper to the slave.

“We all get our pleasures in different ways.” His dark brown eyes would look back to his Mistress, who had amazing stamina. “But in the end….we all want the same thing…” Tim’s voice changed in this light hush so as not to be overheard. What did he mean, you think? It was a question that Mala may well ponder.

~RB~

Chor:  Mala watched display as everyone did, but for her it was but a background show. The woman was delving deep into her mind, the scene before her reminding her of the painful hours of her late night and early morning. With each moan was a flinch as her vision clouded. These were not tears, but the painful reminders of her lack thereof. Friendly dwellers to blur her sight. As Tim appeared beside her once more…the second time this day, she peered to him. Looking more through him than at him. He spoke and she listened, feeling and tasting the words on her lips as he said them. She looked from him to their mistress then, who was still going at it.

“I suppose you are right,” Mala whispered to him, clasping her hands before her and resting them against her torso. What did Mala’ikan really want? Freedom? She knew this unattainable. Love? She knew this to be a lie. Happiness? Ha, she laughed in the face of happiness. She wished often for a life worth living, but there has never been anything she truly wanted save for death…on so many occasions, death.

Razorbackwriter:  

The Slave market and Spa

Tim stood beside Mala and did not react to Mala’s whispered words. In a way he was hypnotized by watching his Mistress in her sexual movements with the chosen slave. The Mistress was not one to go from one to the next, like you might expect. When she had done with him, she’d retire to an area that was screened off, but still with viewing portals and able to hear all that was going on. This was as much to watch the masked nobles. Little did the nobles understand when they were sent their masks by special delivery that Dominique had picked them personally. Mentally, she was able to work out exactly who was who and what they favored, or rather what their kinks were. It enabled her to provide, not only a better service to them in the coming months, but in some ways it was leverage. A true Queen of her web of sin, she was slowly but surely wrapping each up using their own hedonistic pleasures in which to trap them. Oh yes, she promised discretion and anonymity to those that partook in these events, but at the end of the day, they were all pawns on her chess board that would eventually come to realize that there was no escape.

A true demon in every word, except she was the daughter of Eve.

Having finished with her chosen slave, she caressed his masked cheek, before sliding off his lap and then having her robe placed back around her by two of her servants. The wickedness was to continue until the wee hours, or until the last man finished, but it did not need her to be there the entire time. Dominique was above all others and would move to her special viewing area, where she would be cleaned of the sweat and sexual juices, before getting comfortable on a cushioned lounge and provided with wine and fruit.

Her mask could now be removed, as she was no longer in plain sight and this was when Tim was given the signal to Tim to bring Mala down to this special area.

“Come.” He asked simply, gesturing with Mala to follow, till they reached the veiled off area.

Once inside, Mala would be able to see Dominique lying back, wearing nothing but necklaces and a few anklets.

“Ah…Mala, do come in.”

Tim would nod for the woman to do as instructed, but he would then remove his mask. An indication that Mala should do the same.

“Mala, I do not wish for you to leave this eve. I have arranged a special room to accommodate you.”

If Mala had any reservations as to what her husband may say of this, she was about to find out in very harsh terms.

~RB~

Chor:  As the mistress finished, there was a hush before the masses once again started up their own rituals. Noises of passion filled Mala’s ears and despite her attempts to flush them out, they became a music. Often she was assigned a place with those charged with musical accompaniment for the night, but it seemed there was a separate purpose for her at this evening affair. Tim gestured towards the place where their mistress went to rest and she obliged, following obediently. Years and years ago, this willingness to do just as she was told would have sickened her. The learned response now is just agreement. To fight is to lose and to lose it to die.

“My lady,” Mala spoke, bowing to her mistress until given the permission to stand and look upon her. Her sight was breathtaking, as always, and her activities brought a glow about the mistress’ form that Mala could only dream of. Mala drew her robes closer in disgust at herself. She reluctantly removed her mask, but it did nothing if the woman already knew of her identity underneath. What came out of the mistress’ dark and luscious lips was a complete surprise. It also brought great anxiety. My stars, that man will kill me yet… A nod bobbed her head; she could not refuse. In her eyes, though, there was evident fear and confusion.

Razorbackwriter:  

The Slave market and Spa

Dominique was very attuned to reading a person’s body language, and when she saw the way that Mala drew her cloak around herself, matched with that facial expression it brought about a quiet sigh from the Mistress. She knew….oh yes she knew what this meant. It actually annoyed her somewhat, but it also confirmed much of what she was already thinking. Those dark eyes showed the very pits of the poor girl’s soul. What terrible things had the man that was known as simply her husband done to her within the confines of their marital home? The Slave Mistress could only imagine. Dominique’s eyes darted towards Tim, who was present as always.

“Leave us a moment.” Her voice directed to her assistant, who graciously bowed and made his way out of the secluded area. Tossing aside a cushion, Dominique pushed herself up off the lush spread of satin pillows, and without a seeming care in the world about her state of undress, she moved with the grace of a panther towards the girl, and reached for the tie that held the robe she wore in place. The Slave Mistress was careful in her movements, her eyes not leaving that of Malas’s as she un-threaded the robe to let it simply fall from the girl’s shoulders. Dominique did not show an expression of lust, nor want as she let her eyes take in that of Mala’s naked form. Instead, she started to walk around her, inspecting her body and making up her own mind about what she could see, and what she couldn’t. Some marks were very hard to hide, but not only that, the girl’s reaction to the simplest touch would speak volumes.

Coming in behind her, Dominique tilted her head slightly, as she drew the tip of her finger along one of the lash marks that were on the girl’s back. It was not done to hurt the girl, but to make her understand full well, that the Mistress was no fool. She knew what that beast of a man had done.

“Why hurt something so beautiful?” Her words were like whispers within the back ground of the sounds of pleasure that were happening just beyond the screen. Dominique appreciated the beauty of Mala’s all too gaunt form. If the Slave Mistress had her way, she would plump the girl up a little. Dominique stepped up so now her naked body could just be felt upon the girl’s back. The Slave Mistress then swept the girl’s hair back softly, before bending in to kiss the back of the girl’s neck. Her hot breath sure to send a wild sensation throughout the shivering girl’s form. “You should be worshiped for the Goddess that you are.” An almost lusty tone now entered these words, as Dominique brought her hands around and placed one hand upon the girl’s stomach, the other gently resting upon her breast.

“I won’t let him harm you ever again. I promise.” A hushed yet husky whisper melded with the gentleness of her wandering hands, proved weight to that statement. “You shall remain here….and I shall teach you what it is to be loved.”Her nose moved along the tip of Mala’s ear, before she slowly released the girl and went back to her nest of satin pillows. Settling back in, she clapped for Tim to return back into the room. He was quick to cover the girl once again with the same robe that had fallen to the floor.

“Take her to the Ambrosia suite.” The Ambrosia suite was one for the richest of nobles, but for tonight, it would be Mala’s room. Without another word, Dominique went back to peering through the viewing portals at her writhing guests.

~RB~

 

 

 

 

 

Beware the Ginger – Fable of Swords.

 

Never trust a smiling cat, or a woman who seeks to plot the demise of a man.  Dominique learns of the mistreatment of one of her workers by a drunken husband.  With Ava in attendance, a plan is put together to benefit both women.

Domi’s Slave market and Spa

Co-written with Chor and Moo.

 

Chor:  

Mala lit up at the praise from the woman, bowing lowly with respect towards her mistress. Her short, light-blond locks, which had been haphazardly sliced by her husband in a fit of drunken rage, bounced as she did so. He didn’t want anyone else taking a liking to her, so stealing her beauty was his only way of ensuring that she stayed his. Pulling herself back up from the bow, was harder than the long distance she’d walked to her mistresses market this morning. The smile, though, was painted still upon her face.

“Much thanks, my lady. I only aim to do as you would wish me to,” she replied, returning then to her duties as ‘mother hen’. The girls were stopped and she scooted them along with taps to the ankles from her toes. Tim nearly scared Mala as he came up beside her; the jump following her gasp was far more obvious than she would have wanted it to be. Her eyes traveled up to look at him as they walked.

“It is disheartening to see the mistress in such an upset; a great sadness falls upon the house when she is distressed,” Mala replied, biting her lip. Domi is a very strong, independent woman, but even the greatest have faults. His next question was easy to answer.

“Are there ever any complaints from me?” She asked, her smile returning for a brief moment as his eyes met hers. What she was in them was a different kind of discussion. One she didn’t feel was appropriate to be having. It happened, though, and he mentioned her husband. Her eyes averted feverishly and she rubbed her upper arm with a calloused hand, rough with years of scrubbing the servant’s feet with pumice. The clients like the girls’ feet soft…

“He was just intoxicated; I disobeyed a direct order and I deserved to be punished. It’s not his fault. He didn’t mean to hurt me; only teach me a lesson,” she said, her answer almost monotone. She grew tired of this excuse, but usually it got her out of trouble.  

 

Moo:  Ava scoffed while her redheaded friend joked about the event to be held later that evening. She cleared her throat and grinned a little mischievously. Dominique certainly did flaunt it. Flaunted it all. One had to admire the wealth she had gained for herself. Sure, she had a name thanks to her late husband, but it was easily dismissed. Who needed a man to make themselves healthy and happy? Ava certainly felt she could accomplish anything with her own resolve. No man needed to guide her needlessly. One thing they were good for…well, Dominique had that all figured out. Ava casually turned her attention to the commotion off to the corner of the room, as she looked onto the mother hen of the coop. The woman was lovely to look at with her fair skin and pale hair. Certainly someone who grabbed a lot of attention without any real effort. “Lovely work, Dominique,” Ava commended in a lighter voice. “You’re right. I’ve never been so impressed with someone’s work as I am with yours, given your trade.” The small smile she offered was as genuine as her words. Despite the abrupt subject change, Ava didn’t mind a single bit. She would prefer to take it to a lighter subject anyhow. Linking arms with the redhead, she acted gentlemanly in her pursuit for the bar, to make herself comfortable. Tim had wandered in the other direction, perhaps to speak some peace to mother hen. His presence would be missed, though not for long as Ava’s attention was brought to a gossiping Dominique. Ah, the woman had a way with words. Petals sagging with morning dew. “Quite the lady I’m talking to,” she said playfully, teasing. However, her smiling face became somewhat quizzical, debating over what she could say. Or rather, cared to say. “What any woman would enjoy, I suppose… I was enjoying the sight seeing this evening as much as you were, lady.” Another grin.

Razorbackwriter:  

The Slave market and Spa

Tim continued to offer a stern expression when Mala, when she mentioned that her husband had just been intoxicated. Her excuse for his latest round of violence upon her was due to her disobeying a direct order and that she actually deserved the punishment that she got. The eunuch continued to look at her with his lips now drawn into a flat line. When wasn’t her husband drunk? He was well known for favoring spending all her earnings and then some at the gambling houses and the taverns. As far as Tim was concerned the man was a coward – always running from a fight with a man, but more than happy to beat the living daylights out of his wife. Tim well knew that without her income to support his nocturnal habits, that he would be a beggar in the streets, and not living the life he now enjoyed.

“Teaching you a lesson? Really? Do you take me for a fool, Mala? That man is nothing more than a wife beating sadist who deserves the taste of the belt, far more than you do. I have never known you to go against orders whilst in the service of the Mistress. In fact, she praises you constantly and is most proud to have you in her employ.” Tim was right of course, and Mala knew this deep down. Lady Dominique did show respect for those that had earnt it, and in the time that Mala had worked for her, she had done nothing that went against the house rules.

Tim rounded on the girl and then stared at her with a look that may well send a chill down the spine of anyone of lesser standing.

“All you have to do is say the word. Your life could change in a blink, and he would never be found.”

Was he suggesting murder? Whispers had been said about just how far Lady Dominique’s power went. It was not so much that she was a favored niece of the King, but there had been rumors that she kept assassins and others on her books, that would be more than happy….no, they would consider it an honor to rid the world of the stain like Mala’s husband, and no one would be the wiser.

“Think about it.” The eunuch nodded for her to carry on with her duties, before turning away and heading towards the bar on the other side of the courtyard, where Dominique’s sweet laughter was to be heard.

Coconut bar

“A lady? Me? Ahahaha.” Dominique slapped her thigh with her closed fan and had a happy tear like glaze to her eyes.“Oh no. My dear, I know very well what people say of me….and the best part is all of it is true. Every..last detail.” A wide grin played upon the ginger haired Mistress’s lips. “Oh those chaste wives of the nobles of this city would simply curl up and die if they knew that all their men came to this very house to be serviced.” Reaching for Ava’s hand, she leaned in to whisper. “After years of popping out puppies, those women have clit lips like awnings. Flapping back and forth in the breeze and they applaud themselves when they walk.” Dominique let out a giggle, before wrinkling up her nose. ” What man wants that?” She leans back and throws her arm over her chair casually. “So…they come to me, where they know they get exactly what they want with the most lithe of slaves, that fill all their earthly and…hedonistic desires.”

Sucking again on the straw of her cocktail which was served in a coconut, and called “Creme of Fuzzy nuts”, she let out a sigh. “It’s funny how easily a man talks when he has been duly satisfied. Oh …the things I know about the people of this city. I could have any man I want, and then….I blackmail them for all they have. They want to tell, but then find that they can’t.” The truth of Dominique’s wicked ways were only now just being scratched along the surface. She was a mere human being, but had all the talents and shrewdness of a succubus.

“In a man’s world it is win or die. It is a world that few women survive and yet…here we are.” She spoke of Ava in this sense, strongly admiring her for all she had built in her youth.

Tim soon appeared behind his Mistress and then whispered into her ear. What he said, caused Dominique to frown, and cast her eyes towards the bathhouse, where the latest lot of girls were to be washed. The eunuch finished speaking and stood to attention, as the Mistress could be seen plotting something….something horrid. Her mood changing in an instant.

Someone…was going to die.

~RB~

 

Moo:  Ava sure was getting an earful from Dominique. Luckily all to be amusing as she was corrected on her last statement. The woman lifted a brow as she smirked, lifting her own drink to sip from. “How interesting; a woman with a pride that rules even my own. I am impressed with you, as always, Dominique.” The woman surely had a way with words, as she referred to other women’s physical issues, compared to those of the women she kept under roof in this love nest. It had her chuckling, to say in the very least. She had to place a hand over her mouth and set her drink down quickly before she sputtered it all over the bar while she first heard the remarks. And it continued to get better, until the subject took a more serious turn. “I’m sure,” Ava agreed, her hand being taken from her mouth as she had regained her composure. “It’s an admirable quality about you, surely. I’m not ashamed to admit I sought you for your connections. And money.” She pinched her fingers together, rubbing them back and forth greedily for coin, grinning. “It was worthwhile to seek your partnership; I have made more progress since. And! I have made quite an interesting friend with you.” That being said, it was easily agreeable that few women were as strong as them; the admiration between them was very mutual. “Indeed, here we are…” Ava raised her drink as if to give a toast to the statement, though she wouldn’t get anything in return. Tim had come to tell her something…something that apparently required urgent attention as Dominique’s face twisted into something foul. Enough that Ava could tell her business here was done. Or, she had a business opportunity. She tilted her head, slowly stirring her drink as she looked over the brooding ginger. “Can I be of use to you in another way this evening?” A small smile crossed her lips. Of course if she was turned down, she took no hard feelings; Dominique knew she would be in it for the coin rather than the gossip.

 

Chor:  Mala shuddered as Tim berated her. She had not meant to insult his intelligence, but usually there were a few excuses she threw around that got her off the hook. He was right, however, and Mala was not one to disregard authority. Her husband, on the other hand, had a very different set of orders he often forced upon her. To work in the house of the Lady was her job, but her duty was a wife was very often far-streched by her wretched spouse. Suddenly, Tim came to a stop and following him Mala, too slowed her steps to a quiet stop. Too abrupt and she feared she might break down. As her legs stood still, the flesh between them cried in thanks, still suffering from a violent night.

“Thank you,” she said, though she only meant half of it. Sure, she’d thought of it. Oh, how she’d imagined it. A life without him? Terrible.Killing him would be the most pleasurable part of it. Poisoning, pushing him down a well, maybe slitting his throat. All would end with her losing her hard-earned coin to his sister in a town neighboring this. The woman, Paola was almost a scary as her twin brother…Mala’s husband Paolo. She would force Mala from her home, her job, and eventually she knew that Paola would have her as a sex slave and not just a servant. A slave woman without her scumbag husband was just as bad off as one with. She had no claim to anything as a woman because of her exceptionally low status and though her husband was no one special, he had just the right gender to get away with anything. Tim moved to leave Mala and she forced thoughts of her sad existence out of her head. Back to work, it was.

As she reached the baths, it seemed the tear-fest had already begun. Mala slipped off the day’s garb, showing only in her washdress. This piece was flimsy compared to her normal attire, but the others usually disrobe completely. Of course, the bruises, cuts, etc, were easily seen by the room, which brought her much shame, but were they to see underneath her washdress there would be an even bigger gasp of terror running through the house. Of course, the women here would not have to worry about such atrocities, but they couldn’t yet know how good they would be taken care of. As Mala took up a pumice stone, she snatched a sniffling girl’s foot from the water and began scrubbing the filth from her feet. Hours of soaking would not do good enough what she could do in ten minutes. As the working of the girls had finally begun and the talk died down to small whispers, Mala began her song. It was a ritual she always performed and she found for some reason it always helped the girls relax…and even made them more compliant.

Weep not poor children, for life is this way…

 

Razorbackwriter:  

The Slave Market and Spa

It was only when Tim had stood behind his Mistress regally, that Dominique came out of deep thought and then suddenly found herself grinning at Ava. What perfect timing to offer her services in another way outside of the orgy that was planned at midnight. Crossing her legs beneath the sheer silk of her dress, Dominique inhaled and then as casually as they came, she started to lay out her plans.

“Why Ava, I have this trifle little matter that has been giving me some grief as of late.”

Tim stared down at his Mistress, knowing full well where this was going. He had explained the situation of her best slave keeper being beaten again, and now it had finally come to a head.

“There is this man in town. Name is Paolo. Turns out that the man has done some terrible things and to make matters worse he owes me for the damage he has done. Now, I could send out Johan to deal with him myself, but…you see, the man is something of a coward. He believes women are beneath him, and I dare say he would not even imagine that one could outsmart him in a game of chance.”

Taking out a large bag of coins, she dropped it on the table just in Ava’s reach.

https://31.media.tumblr.com/b6edf27322ace90cf33b4a1862b9988f/tumblr_inline_nd4xfww3Mb1t16ovi.gif

“There is a gaming house and slum whore shack that he frequents during the nights that his wife works. I am asking well, as a friend, if you would take this money and use it to lure him into a game ….that he can’t win.” That devilish gleam came into her eyes, as she pursed her lips in a cheeky fashion. “He would be so bold to bet everything he has to win when he has had enough to drink. And I want it all.” There was no mistaking the determination in her voice now. ” Course, you will be compensated for your efforts. That…and you get to see a man grovel at your feet. What do you say? Knock up a notch for the women of this city?’

Dominique picked up her drink from the table, taking a long and leisurely sip.

~RB~