The Love of a Slave

A big thanks to prairiefire, Snidne, angelicsolider00, and slinki for reviewing my very first chapter! Now, here is chapter two!



Arielle spun around in front of the mirror, gazing at her reflection. She turned this way and that way, looking over every inch of herself in the gown Coran had given her.

She couldn’t deny that she felt a tad self-conscious in it. While the dress, overall, was beautiful, it left little to the imagination. It was a gorgeous shade of green; the hem was mid-thigh on the right side and cut down diagonally to end at the ankle on her left. The neckline was low-cut in her opinion, showing off a good bit of cleavage and had a halter that tied at the back of her neck.

She sighed, stepping away from the mirror. Her elbow-length blonde hair was pulled in to a formal bun, with tight golden ringlets falling all around. She felt ridiculously made-up. She was sure Coran was going to laugh when he pulled open the door and stepped in.

“Arielle,” he said after a pause. “You look gorgeous.” She felt her cheeks heat up and looked away.

“Is it time to go already?” she asked in a small voice. Coran knew she was trying her hardest to be brave and couldn’t help but smile.

“Yes, love.” He said, wrapping an arm around her waist when she got close enough. He was pleased when she didn’t pull away from him. “The guests are beginning to arrive.”

She nodded, pulling out of his embrace to slip her shoes on. She glanced back at him, hesitating for a moment. “Coran, I…” she began, pausing with uncertainty.

Coran laughed heartily at her faint blush. “Don’t worry, love.” He said, resting his hands on her hips. He managed to keep a straight face as he bent down to whisper, “I’ll protect you from the big, bad faeries.”

She sent him a withering glare and punched him hard on the arm. “I hope one of them eats you.” She muttered, stamping away indignantly, with a hysterical Coran on her heels.

The ballroom had filled up quickly, with fey of every shape and size attending. Coran had his arm wrapped loosely around Arielle’s waist, almost to reassure her that he would protect her. For once, she was grateful for the contact.

Arielle fidgeted nervously as Coran conversed jovially with a pixy. The creature’s bug-like, black eyes darted to her own blue orbs, grinning gleefully when she turned away in fear. Its sickly green skin and bald head made it look more bizarre than menacing, but Arielle couldn’t help noticing the tiny razorblade teeth every time it smiled.

“Master,” the pixy inquired to Coran. “Why are you wearing such heavy glamour? How you must want to shed that hideous human guise and walk in your own skin.”

Coran shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Arielle for a moment. “No, I am quite fine. The glamour is… necessary for the time being.” He bowed politely to the pixy. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must take my leave.”

The pixy returned his bow. “It has been a pleasure, my lord.” He said, before scampering off into the crowd.

Coran glanced down at Arielle once more, noticing how she was worriedly chewing on her lip. “What is the matter, my love?”

She looked up at him briefly, before returning her gaze to the ground. “Nothing.” Coran frowned at her reply but didn’t press for more. He did, however, lean down to place a light, reassuring kiss on the top of her head.

“Come, love,” he said, giving her a brief smile in hopes of lightening her mood. “I think you have played the part as my faithful companion long enough for one night. I shall take you back to your room now.”

She gave him a relieved smile. “Thank you.”


Arielle was yawning by the time she reached Coran’s chambers. She absently pulled out the clips and pins that held her hair in place. The festivities had worn her down more than she thought and she sighed luxuriously as she slipped out of her green wedges and flopped on the bed.

The door opened and Coran poked his head through. “All settled, my pet?”

Arielle wrinkled her nose at the distasteful pet name, but nodded her head, none-the-less. “I’m so tired.” She murmured, turning onto her side. “I feel like I could sleep for a month.”

Coran chuckled. “Then I shall leave you to your rest.” He said. “I will be in the ballroom should you require my presence.”

She just nodded, closing her eyes and snuggling into the blankets. “’Night, Coran.”

“Goodnight, my love.”


Coran walked back to the ballroom with some difficulty. Each step sent an uncomfortable wave to his groin and he nearly cried with relief as he entered the festive room. He made his way to the back corner, grimacing with every step.

Jacques, his former pet, was leaning comfortably in a chair, hidden far enough away from the crowd to go unnoticed. “Hello, pet.” Coran purred, bending down to place a light kiss on her cheek. Her eyes went wide and she flung her arms around him with a squeal.

“Oh, my lord,” she cried. “I knew you would come back for me.”

Coran smiled, petting her head. “I need your assistance, Jacques.”

“Anything you need, my lord.” She sighed, burying her face in his neck. Coran ground his hips against her, letting her feel his erection pressed against her. She looked pleased with herself. “Of course,” she said seductively.

Coran took her arm and led her to the back exit of the ballroom and occupied a small bedroom not far from the party. He closed the door, turning on Jacques like a wild animal.

He had her pinned beneath him on the mattress, kissing and nipping at her neck as though he were a man deprived of such delicacies. In a way, he supposed he was. Arielle barely kept up conversation with him, let alone make any romantic advances on him.

His mind wandered back to the scene that had given him this problem in the first place. Arielle sprawled across his bed in a swirl of golden curls and green silk. The already high-cut hem of the dress was bunched up, showing a teasing amount of her underwear. And her breasts… Coran moaned at the thought of them.

Jacques giggled, grinding her hips into his. “What would you like me to do, master?”

Coran shivered. “Get off the bed and get on your knees.” He commanded. She gleefully complied, actually giggling at the thought of having Coran’s cock in her mouth after being deprived for so long. She moved to undo the laces of his pants and Coran groaned at the slight movement against his erection.

Jacques licked his head, making him squirm and shiver deliciously. “Wait…” he gasped out. “The glamour…” She smirked naughtily at his suggestion.

“You want to play dress-up?” Coran nodded. “Fine. Make me whomever you wish.”

Coran concentrated on Arielle’s face, pale and heart-shaped. Her observing blue eyes, that almost looked grey sometimes. Her lush pink lips, large breasts, round ass. Her long golden hair, hugging her high cheekbones as it framed her face. He thought of every little detail that made her the sexy, alluring individual she was.

Slowly, Jacques rust-colored curls were replaced by Arielle’s wavy locks. Her brown eyes were brightened to Arielle’s crystalline orbs. Her bone and body shifted shape, until the glamour had completely covered her, and replaced her with the sleeping girl upstairs.

“Arielle,” he moaned. She looked provocative, poised over his member, licking her lips slowly and sultrily. “Suck me.”

She smiled, descending upon is head. She started off with a few teasing licks, loving the way he squirmed helplessly under her touch. She brought it in her mouth, sucking lightly and nibbling at the sides. Coran gasped, grasping the sheets so hard his knuckles were turning white.

Satisfied, she ran her tongue along the underside of his cock in slow taunting strokes. She stopped when she reached his head again and took it in her mouth. She sucked twice on it, before swallowing as much of him as she could. “Oh, god!” Coran cried, bucking his hips against her mouth. “Fuck, Arielle!”

Her neck muscles contracted around him and she started a low humming in the back of her throat. He let out a strangled gasp. “Move.” He ordered, and she did. She slid her mouth up and down his shaft, bobbing her head up and down in a frantic pace.

Coran came within minutes, screaming Arielle’s name over and over, and spewing his creamy, white cum all over Jacques face. In the heat of all this excitement, neither of them ever heard the door open slightly, or notice the shocked blue eyes that gazed at them.