New Slave

"Eh, Boss. Dis' 'ere place is givin' me der creeps."

The large, reinforced carriage rolled up a winding road, and dispite the relatively pleasant weather, there did seem to be an aura about the place. It might have been the grey stone, it might have been the graveyard, or perhaps even the spiked fencepost; but it did seem like a place that demons and vampires might call cozy.

The henchman of the small, powerful lady auctioneer voiced his uneducated opinion, and then fell silent. Saticoy caught glimpses of the place, unfortunately, he was positioned with his bad eye to the window. The actioneeress let the guard's comment hang in the air for a moment, and then waved a hand dismissively.

"It isn't anything. you just don't like it because of the graveyard. That's a bunch of superstitious hokey. Besides, we'll just drop off the lion and leave. We've got quite a bit of gold to spend tonight!"

And they rolled up to the front of the estate. The second guard jumped down from the front, and opened the door. The lady auctioneer jumped out first, and the first guard led out Saticoy. They walke to to the front door, the guards with their eyes wide, and looking around nervously.

"It's got ivy, you twits. Do haunted manses have ivy?"

The auctioneer reached up, taking the heavy dragon knocker in both hands, giving two sharp raps. She wondered if Daesare were here, or if they had beaten her here. She doubted they had, they'd had some trouble finding the right street.
Slowly, the tall oaken doors with the ornate carvings of dragons opened, There were two slaves to each door, slowly working a complex system of rope to open the two ton wooden gate. Of coarse, when one would die from prolonged exposure to sunlight, the heaviest of woods, the tightest of doors, is all that will suffice. The ivy around the doors shifted slightly, and was one to look a bit closer they would notice large razored black thorns along there vines. Of coarse, standing in the Doorway was the mistress of the manor herself, Daesare Abesynth, in her own domain, the place she felt the most comfortable.

The door had opened up into the great hall of the Manor. A large crystal chandelier stood form the ceiling, as high as a church’s, hanging down, perhaps the largest work of crystal for miles around. Beneath it an oaken table to sear nearly 50, each chain ornate, with emerald velvet cushions and detailed embroidery. At the head of the table, like a throne, the seat of Daesare, were she would normally be, eating at this time. Along the walls, as would be expected 10 suits of fine steel armor, though upon further notice one could see that the full helms were missing and in there place you could see a human skull, only the top of the skeletons which were inside the suits. Naturally, the room as lit with torches all along the walls, casting eeries shadows along all there was too see into eh rich environment.

Perhaps the most noticeable thing in the room would have been what hung just from the bottom or the chandelier. It was a mere 7 feet above the table, and certainly a conversation piece. A skeleton of some sort, surely, yet this creature was most obviously other -worldly. It had the form of a human, though you could see a tail had come been there by there vertebrate coming form its back, and wings, an expansive system of hollow bones that must have been 30 feet in width. It head was low, its tail high, as if swooping down from the sky to attack, its skull just two feet above Daesare’s head, It fangs and empty eye sockets were surely terrifying, though to her it was trophy, a trophy of one of the largest demons she had ever killed, the ones who’s hide made up part of her outfit.

Daesare’s flesh was so pale, her face so young…..she couldn’t have been older than 15, though her eyes burned with knowledge, and a little bit of childlike curiosity, that was overshadowed by predominate darkness. Her bodice was enclosed within a corset, the sable material being demon hide, and hardly cinching her waist at all, she didn’t need it to. It laced up the front and the velvet ribbon that laced it was tied carefully around her neck twice, to make a pretty little bow in the front. Her skirt was of this same charcoal velvet, reaching 4 inched above the knee, the darkness of the ensemble dramatizing the ashen quality of her flesh. She was thrilled to have her new slave, and couldn’t wait to see what he could do.

“I don’t suppose the lot of you would fancy staying for some tea?” She asked, her cute high pitched girl voice contrasting so much to the dramatic, terrifying aura of her home. Her eyes fell upon Saticoy, she longed to feel his fur, and continue where his mistress had left off with her lessons, yet if there men and the auctioneer were brave enough to stay, she would be polite and kindly ask them to do so.
"I would love to. But you see, we do have other slaves that need selling...."

It was a lie, and it didn't take a mind reader to see it. There was a sudden, but slight look of fear in the auctioneer's eyes, though for the most part, she managed to keep her composure. The big, powerful guards looked as if their eyes might pop out of their heads; one of then was even biting his nails nervously.

"Huh? No, we don't Boss. Der lion were the last one today-"

A sharp elbow to the stomach promptly quieted the idiot guard, who tightened his grip on Saticoy's chains.

"Good help is so hard to find these days... You know how it is."

The woman tried to smile charmingly to the demon girl-which is what she was convinced she was-and began unfastening Saticoy from his neck collar and leg irons.

"Here's the key to his wrist chains. We'll let you unlock him at your leisure."

With a brief pat on the forearm, and a last glance at Saticoy,

"Good luck, kid."

The threesome ran out of there, leaving the lion to what they were fairly certain was some ungodly fate.

*******

To his credit, Saticoy had remained relatively calm throughout his delivery. He was rather nervous about the large number of skeletons hanging around, in one case, literally; and he decided that despite the girl's youthful appearance, she was someone to be obeyed. Promptly, politely, and to excess, if possible. But he had enjoyed watching the obvious terror of his keepers; it was like a tiny bit of revenge for all the unnecessary whipping. After they dissapeared, the sound of their carriage flying down the roadway, the horses going full speed, he turned to his mistress. He did wonder what she would do with him, what she wanted of him, and if he'd end up as a chandelier somewhere in this vast mansion himself.
A slim smile spread across the face of the girl, of coarse she knew there were no other slaves, but it amused her none the less. She loved her manor, in all of its morbid homeliness. Of coarse, she only put the bodies of those she killed into her home, as hr trophies, and surely she wouldn’t lay a finger upon something that she owned such as Saticoy. “Where is that ferocious creature I saw on stage, humm? An act I suppose?” Amusement flickered before her eyes, and gently she touched his arm, letting her careful fingers absorb the texture tenderly.

She took the key that the auctioneer had given her and promptly slipped it into the handcuffs, unlocking them, and the slipping the key into the top of her blouse (She would probably make a necklace of it later.)
“Yes, this house is haunted and no, the ghosts won’t hurt you unless I tell them too.” They rarely came out around strangers anyways, merely harmless wraiths, she had no control over them, but they had no body anyways, and didn’t really do much but frighten people for shits and giggles.

She took the shackles and carefully placed them aside. “Your not going to hurt me, are you dear Saticoy?” She inquired, thick eyelashes batting playfully in mock flirtation. The slaves began to close the large doors, and pale fingers slipped around Saticoy’s forearm, tugging slightly. “Come with me, we will outfit you, and I shall show you your room, though…..It’s almost certain you will not be sleeping there.” She giggled in her cold, dark voice, and the echo spread eerily through he cold hallways, so much like graveyard.
"No, Miss, I wouldn't hurt you. You have given me no reason to, and besides, you are my Mistress, not some random little woman with a fondness for the whip. So even if you did give me reason, I would not be likely to fight back."

He gave a glare at the closed door; not angry at the door, of course, only at the people who had most recently passed through it. But those fools were no longer any concern of his. All his attention focused on the Mistress, following her gentle pull quite willingly. If this were to be his home, then he'd better get used to it. Ghosts and skeletons and graveyard, and whatever else there might be.

And then her last comment sunk in. So, she wanted him for a pleasure slave after all. Saticoy decided that would be just fine, especially since the girl before him certainly seemed to young to have a husband who would whip him for it. And she was certainly pretty. And close to his own age, maybe. That would be nice...
Her giggle seemed cold, but he did not mind it. Laughter meant that his little Miss was in a pleasant mood so far, and he hoped to keep it that way. He wondered at what she meant by outfitting him. Was he to recieve a uniform?
With the lightest touch she guided Saticoy across the large flat gray stones of the floor. Her pace was quick, and as the doors finally closed shut the two slaves that had been closing them form behind were revealed. They were two males, appearing human wearing little but a pair of black trousers, collars with rings on the front and leather bands for each wrist and ankle. You could say they went with the house in there dark clothing, Daesare had fit her house to be the perfect atmosphere for her, and with that she had surrounded herself with the prefect people, Saticoy would be among there ranks. Of coarse, he would be treated like a god if she fancied him, or as a common slave if she was not amused. Two opposite ends of the spectrum, though Daesare had already decided she quite liked him.

She came into a hallway, similar to the Great Hall with lines of oddly shaped skeletons from eh walls, and those of bats hanging from the ceiling. A great oaken door stood into eh wide hallway, and briskly she opened its weight, as if it were nothing, though making it seam as an easy feat, unnoticeable. This lead down into another corridor of gray stone and dark, torch lit walls, thought there were nearly 20 doors down this corridor. Giving a light squeeze to Saticoy’s arm she traversed down the corridor, her feet, which would have been bare without her silver anklet, made little noise as she reached its end. She briskly opened the door there which lead into a small sized room, a bedroom. It was lavish, perhaps, the carpet of rich dark red plush, and the stone fireplace leaving it the only warm place in the house. There was a dark oak wardrobe, and a matching bed, though it’s sheets were tucked tight into it, as if they had yet to be used. Despite its size, it was considerably nice, the suite for the newest slave, the best of the rooms. This one would belong to Saticoy, at least, until she bought another slave. Daesare was fickle, among other things.

“This will be your room dear, you may spend free time here, though I doubt you will have a whole lot of idle time.” She opened a drawer, steel optics brimming with amusement. She turned towards him, touching his chest with her hand just slightly. Mmm fur… “Take off your pants.” Her tone was playful now. “I have new ones for you, and a collar and bands” They were the least constrictive of clothing material, and thusly, the ones she had her slaves wear, to at least have them looking the same. Though a bit un-conventional, she liked having some order.
Certainly Daesare must have enjoyed the look of astonishment that crossed his face as she said This will be your room dear... The Mistress and Master's suite back at his last home had not been half so nice. And he'd never been permitted to sleep there, only to visit for a few hours at a time.

The touch of her hand on his chest brought him back to reality quickly enough; her small hand was gentle against his chest, yet there was strength behind it. So, she was not as delicate as she seemed. That would be good.

Her command did not surprise him, though it did feel odd to disrobe in front of anyone but his old teacher. But he leaned down and unfastened the trousers, revealing that there had been nothing beneath. The dropped loosely to his ankles, and he stepped out of them.

Unclothed, the full benefit of having worked as a field slave became quite clear. His legs were built as his arms and chest; sleek, but powerful. His body seemed to speak of a quiet power, that in a different life, might have led a tribe. thi this was the life he had been given, and here, he used that quiet power to other purposes. His pose was unashamed, since this was his new mistress, and he did not doubt she wanted to inspect her new purchase.
The delicate curve of her smile only stood to get bigger with his astonishment. Most of her slaves rooms were nice, she would give her favorites a few gold to go and decorate it as they pleased on occasion, as she would probably allow Saticoy to do if he pleased. Yet his room was nice enough, and by far the best. She was glad to see he liked it, it was important for slaves to be at least a little bit comfortable, it increased morale and she hadn’t had an escape attempt in a long, long time.

“I’m glad you like it, each week you will be given a few silver to do as you please depending on how happy you make your mistress, you may spend it as you please, but all of your personal belongings must remain in this room.” She said, pulling the anklets, cuffs and collar from the drawer absently.

Daesare circled behind him, reaching up her arms to place the collar around his neck. It was a centimeter thick leather band with metal studs in it, and as she latched it in the back she clamped a small steel lock on the buckle. It was not coming off anytime soon. “Stay still.” She commanded, grasping his arm in her small, fragile hands, that weren’t so small nor fragile when wielding a great weapon as she often did. His arm was muscular, and her fingers lingered a bit too long, her eyes a bit too dazed and not as mechanical as they usually were. She slipped the cuff onto one wrist, buckling it and locking it in the back with a long metal key, then the other. She decided he didn’t need anything around is ankles, he would be fine for the time being.

She stepped away and momentarily panned up and down his frame. She was quite pleased, and this was apparent in her eyes. Her purchase had been a good one, she applauded herself, and unabashedly took her lingering time inspecting every inch of him exposed. Her playful eyes then moved from his body onto the drawer and she pulled out now a pair of loose black pants, which might have been a half size to big for him, but useful never the less. Normally she would have made it her pleasure to dress him herself, but she decided she would let him do it, this time. She held them out to him, devious smile never fading.
Curious! The touch of her fingertips around his neck, fastening the collar; small, nimble, quick. As her touch traced his arm a moment too long, her fingertips were cool, but his skin burned with warmth. Her eyes on his body flushed him with pride, and something beyond. He took the pants, and for a brief second, something flickered to his mind as he glanced to his mistress. For the briefest moment, he considered throwing the pants aside, and pulling her close.

But he decided that thought would be suicidal, at least, until e got to know her. He wasn't even sure where the thought had come from. But then again, his Mistress was a very pretty young woman, not some old mistress trying to get revenge on her husband. He put on the pants, enjoying their smooth texture and loose fit.

"How do I look?"
Mumm, he was wonderful…… She wasn’t sure why exactly she had him put the pants on, for surely they wouldn’t stay there too long once they reached her room. “You look stunning.” She replied, her eyes flirty and her lips sensuous as she spoke. She stepped back towards him, she placed one palm on his chest, letting it fall slowly, her hands so tender in her touch. Her eyes fallowed the path she made down his chest, and she bit her lip slightly. She had no remorse for buying him as a pleasure slave, though things would be better if consensual. She thought it really was too bad that such a creature as he was a mere slave, and she would treat him fair as long as this favor lasted. Yet prehaps it wasn’t favor, perhaps lust. She let her hand curve slowly to his waist, he was much warmer than she, with his blood being fully warm, his fur, so interesting to touch…

“You are quite a stunning looking creature to begin with Saticoy.” Her voice was breathy, longing, her hands now fell reluctantly from his frame. She placed one light, barely there feathered kiss upon his neck, craning her own to reach, her movement was still graceful. “We should probably go to my room then, unless you have any concerns that need to be addressed.”

Her hand came up to slowly, playfully entwine her fingers within her locks, the color of silver gold. She steadied now her anxious breath, and looked onto his features, in what must have been delight or admiration.
He was certainly warmed by her praise; who doesn't like to be told that they are good looking? But to be told by this one-she was no mere human, he was already sure of that. The daughter of a fallen angel, perhaps? Divine in her beauty, earthly in her pleasures?

A memory flickered to mind, of life at the plantation. The sun was hot, but not unbearably so. The whip-marks on his back had healed over, and the small scar across his eyelid had done the same. He was now used to having sight only on one side, though he still disliked it when someone approached him from that angle. And the Overseer had done that now, forgetting Saticoy's recent developments.

"Eh, Saticoy. You don't got field duty today. Looks like Mistress wants you up in the house."

The lion jumped slightly, stifling the beginnings of a growl in his throat. He'd only been surprised by the sound, not angry at the overseer. Though he had to admit he didn't like the message. He knew what it meant, what the mistress wanted of him. He also knew that he'd likely get whipped-again-if the master found out. Which, eventually, he would, since the overseer had to write down everyone who was or was not in the fields that day. It would be a rather pleasant afternoon, but he wasn't sure if it was all worth it. The mistress certainly thought so, but then, she wasn't the one getting whipped.

Saticoy realized he didn't care if he got whipped this time. No, not after the sweet zephyr of a kiss that flitted across his neck. He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that any experience he had with Daesare would be well worth it.

"No concerns, My Mistress."

And when he said the title, it was light, almost affectionate.

"Only how close is it to reach your quarters."

There was a sparkle in his eyes. Any concerns she had about it being consensual should have been quickly dispelled; for the first time, Saticoy was looking forward to his 'task' ahead of him.
Steel orbs glowed with lusty desire at his words. She was suddenly aware of the fact that he might not have known her true name, but mistress suited her just fine, my mistress Daesare could tell his word were placed with care, and the lightness in his voice was soaked up and only stood to increase Daesare’s adoration of her new slave. He wouldn’t be dreading the task before him, which pleased her greatly, and a pleased mistress meant kindness towards slaves, and certainly she would be more than kind to Saticoy. Daesare grinned slightly, as she took Saticoy’s hand in her own. Her other hand reached up as before to his arm, to gently guide him along with her.

Her hands gently caressed his upper arm, fur was something she was not accustomed too, something she didn’t come crossed too often and certainly had never stroked as affectionately as she now did to Saticoy. She watched his features closely as she did so, making note to ask him later about is eye, when she wasn’t so painfully wanting to partake of all he had to offer.

“My quarters are not far, my dear, let us go now to them, for I’m sure I cannot wait much longer to taste your lips…” She gave his arm a gentle affectionate squeeze as she headed for the rooms door. “You are absolute perfection Saticoy, I promise that this will be as pleasurable to you as it will be to me.” Her voice was thick with longing as she opened the door from the room, stepping into the hallway again. Gently she lead him down it, she was almost afraid to look back at him, Daesare wasn’t sure what she would do…. So her pace was quick, over the stones just as before, swiftly opening the oaken door yet again into that same eerie hallways with the bones of the deceased displayed throughout. Her room was merely a few doors down. A few steps later she came to it, releasing Saticoy’s arm but keeping her closeness to his warm, muscular body. She pulled out a key from her bodice, not the one used to release the shackles, yet one to open her rooms door. She fumbled slightly, until she heard a click, waiting tortuously to open it…anticipation only made things better. She glanced up, eyes looking back up at Saticoy for approval. “Ready?”