Welcome to part 2. I'm going a little darker here, then I'm going to end on part 3 which is going to have a slightly different setting and probably time jump. Enjoy.
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I awoke to banging on my cage, a lock being turned, and being pulled out and thrown to the floor.
"ITS FUCKING NOON."
Did I catch a hint of a grin on that stern face?
She was nude. Her tight frame glistened beautifully, sweat dripping from her perfect dark nipples. I gathered that she had already practiced with her weapons this morning. Between family, Larsans didn't care about nudity. In front of non-relatives, clothing was status. I was her slave, and didn't count.
I crawled to kiss her feet and licked them for two full minutes lost in submission, then worked my way up her legs and to her pussy. She pushed my face into her pussy and I licked her for another minute, then she almost playfully pushed me away. I tried to move back to lick her more, hoping my persistence would please her, and she pushed my face away with the same playfulness. She actually smiled. That was a surprise.
"Tell me, are slaves allowed to sleep in?"
"No, mistress."
"And what are you?"
"I'm sorry mistress". I meant it. What can I say, if I were a brave man I would have died in battle. I still felt the whip marks from the previous night. But, I worried about tomorrow. I guessed I would adjust to her sleep patterns eventually...
I knelt before her with my head down and the palms of my hands flat on the ground. Leaning down, she pushed a metal cock shaped piece that she had grabbed from somewhere in her militantly adorned room into my backside. It felt strange. It made me feel aroused, and dominated. As she pushed it further in, she whispered into my ear quietly.
"You will be awake at dawn, kneeling in your cage, desperate to pleasure me, EVERY morning from now until eternity, SLAVE. I am a renowned warrior, a Colonel, and the daughter of one of the three most powerful people in Larsa. You, are property. DISPOSABLE property."
"Of course, mistress" I barely whispered, afraid that this tigress would fly into a rage again. I feared her absolutely. But also, admired? She woke at dawn every day, ready to lead armies. I often had got away with sleeping in until noon - before. My neck felt sore from sleeping in my collar. My old master had allowed me to take it off at night.
She took out the cock shaped instrument, and I felt relieved... I think. My sphincter muscles flexed. She smiled slightly.
She started preparing herself for the day, leaving me kneeling on the floor. My mind kept drifting off to the branding... It would ruin my chances of being a scribe again, forever. Nobody bought a scribe with a brand on his backside. Slaves branded with demeaning symbols indicating they were a harlot or a troublemaker were of lower worth in general. I had no doubt about how Athena would mark me.
"Comb my hair, slave."
Obediently, I grabbed her wood comb from her table and gently, very gently, started combing her long, dark hair. She was still nude. She sat down on the fur blanketed bed as I combed her hair out but I didn't dare stop, and moved with her. When I was done, she pushed me away then pulled her hair back in a long, dark ponytail. I stood awkwardly as she grabbed a black wooden box from her side table and checked her eyeliner in its reflective surface.
"I'll have to have someone instruct you on how to braid it for me. Now massage me, slave."
I got onto the bed behind her, and pressed my hands into her shoulders, massaging them, then worked my way down her back. She gave an "mmmm" then pulled my arms round her waist. I hadn't seen this side of her before. She gave a satisfied sigh, pushed me back on the bed, and got up.
She washed down a birth control serum with her morning drink, then got dressed quickly. She strapped on what I would describe as a more casual set of armour. Where yesterday's armour was metal head to toe, unusual and expensive for Larsans, today she wore leather shoulder, elbow, and knee guards over a black sleeveless tunic with a V shaped cleavage, and leggings. She also pulled on leather boots.
"I hope you're paying attention. Starting tomorrow, you will clothe and armour me every morning, slave." She gave me a haughty look, obviously enjoying the idea.
"Yes mistress."
She donned a fur mantle over the tunic, perhaps, like her home furnishings and tattoos, an homage to Larsa's tribal origins. Crisscrossing pattern tattoos stood out on her tightly muscled arms. She buckled a sword to her waist. I wanted to beg for clothing but said nothing. She flicked her fingers indicating for me to heel her.
I followed her downstairs for breakfast, leashed and collared, obediently kneeling under the table with her boot on the back of my neck. The marble floor was uncomfortable. The dining room felt even larger for it's plain furnishings. The table was hardwood, dark oak. The only thing on the wall was a crossed sword and spear on a shield. Pretty typical for Larsa. Her father strolled in and she casually discussed the day's plans with him.
"We MUST test that new weapon in the field father. I love the bang it makes when it goes off. That ought to scare some Tebeians." She was in girly mode again now that she was speaking with her father. But she kept her boot firmly on my neck. I kept my eyes on the marble floor. My penis rubbed on it awkwardly, I felt myself getting hard again and again in her presence, despite myself.
From beneath the table, it sounded like they were eating a hearty breakfast. My stomach rumbled. I hadn't eaten since the day before.
"I WOULD like to be the first to try using it, please father." I doubt any man could refuse a woman like that, even dad. From my diminutive space beneath the table, I felt him grin. "Of course Athena. I know you have been itching to be sent into the field recently. You can be the first to use one of these to blast a Tibeian's head off."
He changed tone.
"You're branding your new slave today, correct? That should knock him down a few pegs. He WAS getting uppity, though I never DISLIKED the man. Not that I'd call him that anymore."
"Yes father."
I felt betrayed. I had always thought this man respected me, at least a little. Not that I could be any more humiliated under the table, naked, with a leather boot now pressing on the back of my neck above my collar. I gagged a little and if she heard she only pressed harder. I didn't dare resist.
They chatted for a little while longer. When her father finally noticed me under the table, he gave a hearty laugh. "Now THAT's what I call a born stud dear. Look at his cock. I'm sure if you get tired of him we could make a damn killing off him, not that we need the money right now."
Athena took her boot off the back of my neck. She leaned down and fed me a piece of meat out of her hand, and I gratefully savoured every last bite, unsure when I would next be permitted to eat. She grabbed another but when I reached up with my hand to take it, she dropped it back on her plate angrily.
When they were done chatting, she pulled me behind her out of the dining room.
"Okay, let's get you ready for market."
I followed her across the villa, upstairs until we came to a room with cuffs hanging from the walls. It terrified me, but not as much as she did. I kept my head bowed as she pulled out an intimidating looking set of chains. The wrist and ankle cuffs were all attached to a central chain that hung from my neck to my knees. In the middle of that chain was a larger link that was round. I gulped, realizing what it was for. She raised it to my naked frame. "Put it on, slave" she commanded. I hesitated. She touched her whip handle. That was all the encouragement I needed.
The cuffs were cold, like the collar. They made me feel helpless. They clicked into place one at a time as I restricted my own freedom of movement. She laughed as I tested them and smacked my ass playfully, which made me shout as I was still covered in welts from the nape of my neck to my upper legs. She noticed the large round link hanging, and pulled it over my cock. She also clipped the upper part of the chain to my collar with one of her own locks. When I walked the chain restricted me, but I had enough leeway on the ankle shackles to take strides. My wrists were kept permanently at my waist, and frustratingly away from my cock. I felt guilty for being so aroused in this situation. But not as much as I felt frustrated that the tight cuffs kept my hands apart from my cock. She attached a leash to my collar and led me outside.
"This is how you go out in public until I've properly broken you, slave."
My chains jangled, and I started to feel embarrassed as people turned to look. It made it hard to walk, but Athena tugged my leash, persuading me quite effectively to speed up my pace. The cuffs felt restricting, but a subtle pull on them told me that the steel was as unyielding as Athena's will. My pale skin glistened with sweat but fortunately the cloud cover prevented me from outright sunburning in Larsa's warm weather. I was very aware of the round link on the base of my cock, which tugged now and then as my chains moved about. She led me imperiously, shoulders back, at a brisk military pace.
A battalion of soldiers marched past all in white shirts and leggings, shields, and metal helms, with their city spears over their shoulders. Larsan soldiers had different sets of weapons and outfits for different occasions, formal, parade. A free scribe I had known with my previous master passed by, I think turning to give me a pitying glance though I didn't dare look back to catch his eye.
After some walking we arrived at the slave market, which I looked up at briefly. It was stark, much as the Larsans liked. Atop platforms stood, sat, and dawdled nude men and women restrained in various ways. Larsans with whips at their belts posed the merchandise occasionally. Buyers in armour, some of it gold, strutted between the stands, occasionally feeling some part of an item they were interested in.
Athena paused to take in what was happening on a raised dais at the center of the market.
A male slave, beautiful and muscular with long red hair down to his shoulders and green eyes, desperately sucked another slave's cock. Both were nude, and hard. The Larsans sometimes used a drink called Bacchus juice to keep male slaves... Aroused. The other slave was moaning. The man giving head glanced anxiously up at an austere, elderly woman with intelligent eyes, then went back to business. He clearly feared her. She was not dressed in armour as other Larsans, but instead a flowing white dress and an ornate necklace indicating authourity. She was flanked by two large, armed guards, but it was abundantly clear who was in charge. She nodded, smiling at Athena, and we continued.
The slave market was a big deal. The Larsans, a conquering people obsessed with domination, owned many slaves, largely war captives but also criminals and debtors. And their descendants. It was said that the slave population was about a third of the city, and even higher in the surrounding countryside.
Further along the street stood the smithy, which Athena hastily dragged me to. A beautiful, soft faced young woman with wavy blonde hair and a golden tan stumbled out, kicked along by a Larsan slaver. She was a bit on the curvier side.
Her breasts swung a little, and she mewled pitifully. She was very dirty. She was followed in her coffle by a young man and two more women, all of them naked like most slaves here.
The slaver, a huge ogre of a man, grinned as the slaves felt at the steel cuffs and collars that appeared welded on their necks and limbs. All four of the slaves wore them. The coffle chains were linked to the eye hooks on their collars by locks, but the collars and cuffs were permanent. The young woman fell to the ground, and the slaver kicked her again.
I whimpered a little as Athena dragged me in, and she flicked my eye.
The interior of the smithy was dark, simple, Larsan. This was clearly a slaver smithy, with more than the usual number of shackles and even crueler items adorning pegs on the walls. The walls were wooden, old. It had an earthy smell to it.
The smith was a bald woman called Ini'Ra. She had startling muscles that I would have expected on a man. Her bald head was covered in pattern tattoos, and she wore similar face paint to Athena. She shook Athena's hand heartily and then playfully twisted my nipples making me grunt. They appeared to know each other.
