The Little Fawn Slave

The Little Faun Slave
Inspired by Anne Rice’s Sleeping Beauty Book 1 and my wonderful husband.

The slave carts were silent except for the creaking of the wheels and the hooves of the horses hitting the dirt or the stone paved roads. The driver would occasionally glance back at his load; thirteen young women and an armed guard keeping watch over them.
The villagers glanced up but paid the cart only mild interest. The slave market was common and needed no fanfare. The driver would nod to the women passing in a gentlemanly manner and drive on to the center market place where, past the pavilions of butchered meat and fresh produce, there was a large pavilion and store house where slaves were processed and sent to their perspective merchants.
The cart arrived in a docking area of the storehouse where three more guards met it, each taking a chained string of girls into the storehouse. The last guard with a string of four handed the driver a small sack of gold for pay.
In the storehouse were lines of slaves; men for labor, women for house or field work, young men for personal use, young women for their beauty and form. The new girls were put into their perspective lines and chained with the others there.
Men and women at the top of the lines inspected each slave for different qualities, diseases, and other areas of interest. After each slave was processes they were either sent onto other carts and taken to outside villages for labor among the grains that the city was well known for, sent to the auction docks where local villagers bid on personal labor or sex slaves, and the ‘lucky ones’ were put on carts and taken to the palace.

“Next.”
“Next.”
“Next.”
A young woman was brought forward for the inspection of a shrewd, crow-like woman and a short, boyish man who was more feminine than the woman next to him. The woman ran things.
She gestured to the guard next to the girl. “Take off her clothes and turn her around so I can see her better.”
The guard stripped the girl of the rags that hung on her frail form like dirty cobwebs. She shivered from humility but was prevented by her bindings from covering herself while the guard turned her slowly for the inspection.
“How old are you?” the woman asked the girl as she pulled back her mousy brown hair to look at her neck and face.
It took a moment to answer, “Seventeen this Yule.”
“Have you been married yet?”
She shook her head, her mind recalling her mother and father going over marriageable men that she would be betrothed to on Yule.
“Bend her over.”
The guard bent her at the waist and spread her legs as wide as the bindings would let him. The girl struggled a little but this caused the shackles to bite into her skin deeper. A whimper escaped her small mouth but no screams, though they could be heard form other parts of the storehouse. The woman leaned forward and inserted one finger deep into the girl’s vagina then withdrew.
“Virgin.”
The guard straightened the girl back up just as tears fell down her cheeks slowly, streaking the grime there.
“You’re very lucky,” the woman said and made a few markings on a piece of parchment. “Redress her.”
Once the girl was dressed the woman pinned the piece of parchment to her rags. “The palace cart for her. Next.”

While in the cart the girl looked back out at the landscape; fields of golden grain with majestic mountains lining the horizon. She could remember a time when she played among the hills at the base of those mountains, a time before her own father sold her to pay his debts for what good was a girl when harvest time came?
A young blond girl next to her was crying softly, the brunette on her left was staring at her bare feet. She wondered if their circumstances were the same.
The cart arrived at the palace’s side gates where shipments were unloaded. The girls were taken within and met by a tall man with ivory skin and beautifully curling golden hair.
“Hello maidens, I am Sir Columba and I am over the palace harem and those gifts the King decides benefiting to give to beloved friends. You will be well taken care of while here.” Sir Columba then turned to a line of servants, golden haired men like himself and young, sweet-faced women with soft miles, and gave them instructions.
Guards unshackled the girls and took the chains outside, leaving them in the servants’ hands. They were taken to a eastern wing of the palace where a room of steam and baths and aromatic oils was set for them.
The young girl was taken into the hands of Sir Columba himself and led to a bath. “That is your name?” His voice was gentle and soothing as he took off her rags and set her parchment on a side table.
“Damhnait,” the girl whispered, this time able to cover her small, pale breasts with her arms, bloody and grimy as they were.
Sir Columba smiled, “Damhnait? Little Fawn?”
Damhnait nodded and let the knighted servant lead her into the tub of deliciously warm water. He scrubbed her until she was pink and her hair shown like dark topaz silk. “There now, I knew there had to be a pretty little fawn under all that blood and dirt,” he brushed back her wet hair and lifted her chin to look at her face, “Yes very pretty indeed.”
At a bar full of decanters and jeweled bottles of oils from all over the kingdom Sir Columba mused over the right oils for the fawn behind him while another servant emptied her tub and set her on a little stool, wrapped up in a warm towel. Choosing warm heliotrope, spicy clove, candy-like black currants, and a bright violet he mixed them into an empty bottle with a topaz stopper. Breathing in the aroma he smiled and returned to the girl, “A perfume oil just for you.”
Damhnait watched him closely, curiously but her mind went beyond this to what would happen after she was prettied up. She knew it would be another cattle show, this time privately for nobles and the idea made her feel just as ashamed and ill as when she was in the storehouse and before that when her father offered her up to the trader to pay his debt.
Sir Columba lathered her body in the oil, taking mind of the way the scent mingled with her own chemistry making a heady sweet and warm new scent. “A little sun nymph,” he laughed putting the bottle aside. He spoke softly to a girl-servant waitning off to the side. She hurried into a side room and soon returned with a polished wooden box. Sir Columba opened the tiny chest to reveal a full set of topaz jewelry. “Perfect.”
Damhnait looked at the jewels in surprise then at her caretaker, her curiosity peaking. Picking up a collar of topaz and gold Sir Columba nodded again before replacing it and taking the box to set it on the side table. “You will be a beautiful fawn.”
“Perfect for sacrificial slaughter,” Damhnait sighed, feeling tears bite the backs of her eyes. She bit her lower lip to stifle the tears and didn’t dare look at the knighted servant for fear of being hit for her words.
Sir Columba nodded in understanding and began work on her hair. “It’s not as bad as all that. You wont be thrown into King Meirion’s harem, though it is a place where it’s women are treated with much kindness.” He plaited the topaz strands into an intricate braid with silk topaz-colored ribbons.
The girl swallowed hard, “What will be done with me then?”
“Today is the celebration of victory over the country of Odhran. King Meirion is honoring his generals and naming one his War Duke,” finishing the braid he picked up a set of topaz clips from the chest and pined them in carefully then turned to look at her face, flushed but beautiful. “The maidens brought in today will be gifts to the generals.”
Damhnait could not see how this was a good thing but said no more while Sir Columba lifted her to standing position. Brushing her face with rice powder then adding details with golden-red paint on her mouth and eyes he seemed perfectly pleased with his work thus far.
Carfully he cupped her breasts making her raise her hands to cover herself. “Stop that,” he reprimanded and knocked her hands away. Next were a set of nipple clamps that would cover her nipples and areolas with topaz and swirling gold. “These will hurt at first but then you’re nipples will go a little numb and you won’t even think of them.” Before she could question his words he attached the clamps making her whimper and jerk back. “Now, now, calm down, it’s not so bad as all that.”
Dusting her with gold glitter he smiled and touched her belly and hips down to her thighs. “You’ll be fertile and well rounded,” he laughed then nudged her legs apart so he could dust her inner thighs. Touching her small patch of pubic hair he thought a moment, “Shaven for you would be best I believe then gestured to a servant to bring him shaving supplies.
Damhnait squirmed a little while Sir Columba shaved such a private place, touching her nether lips gently and nudging her legs apart more and more. When he was done he smiled at her even though tears streamed down her face. Wiping the salty drops away he cooed, “Now, now, we’re almost done.”

Golden heels with topaz chips at the base of the heel were put on her feet and a pair of golden panties were put on her to cover her somewhat. On the sides of the panties were tied three strings of dangling topaz gems. Sir Columba finished his work by adding her topaz and gold collar and smiling at his work. “Perfect. I think you shall be the gift for the War Duke.”
Damhnait supposed this was an honor but could not feel anything but shame and fear through the bruised feeling of the nipple clamps and the hot feel of razor burn at the edges of her pubis. She held back her tears now and looked up at Sir Columba, awaiting her fate.