Lisa lives a simple life, with her sister and father in their little village. However, another bad crop yield means they'll not make it through the winter. Given no other choice she makes a deal that she will quickly regret.
Authors Notes - I have tried to pace story and action a bit better. I have more written that should be released shortly, but thought this would be a good place to end the first chapter. There is a decent amount of bondage and more BDSM themes will play a part in future chapters.
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Chapter 1
1.
Lisa had lived her whole life in the same house, in the same village and with the same people. Well, other than her mother, she passed away five years ago when Lisa was just thirteen years old. Lisa had been forced to take over the role, looking after her sister, Sally, of ten and her father in her mother's place; cooking, cleaning, collecting water. It was a rough and hard life, but her family loved one another and for her that was enough.
At least, it used to be enough. The village was experiencing one of the worst droughts in even the eldest members living memory. Three years they'd had poor harvests and it was more than they could take. Last year the village had sold almost everything they had in terms of wealth in exchange for enough food to survive the winter. This year traders weren't even coming looking to buy. They knew the village had nothing to offer and if food was this scarce elsewhere then they couldn't afford it anyway.
Lisa did what she could whilst her father worked a field that offered little in return. She foraged in the forest, looking for mushrooms and berries, but even those were hard to come by now. She'd even run into other foragers from the village from time to time having similarly poor luck. The village didn't have any competent hunters or trappers and even if they did there wasn't any game to speak of and would be less as winter came.
The village had been built on a land trade route that no longer existed. Some people said it was from when there was gold struck in the mountains to the east, others said that colliers used to first make charcoal here hundreds of years ago until they found a tree that gave better results in forests to the north. Whatever the reason the village had been built, now, it was just a remote place that on a good harvest could sell enough grain to live a modest and reasonably satisfied life.
When a trader finally arrived it was a beacon of salvation for many. At least, it was a first. He refused to buy any of the few remaining items of worth left for anything more than a pittance and didn't have any food to offer. Harold, one of her father's friends with a barrel chest and a voice to match, confronted the man, "Then why on earth did ya' come all the way out here for? Surely not
just
to mock us!" The crowd made some noise of agreement with him.
The trader put up his hands to ask for quiet, looking like he was trying to hush a wild horse. He waited for everyone to go silent before he spoke, his voice smooth and calm, "I am here to offer work. There are nobles within the city wishing for servants to work in their houses. You'll be paid a small sum upfront and then escorted to the city where you will reside in lodgings within their estate and learn to serve. For your work you'll receive every other Sunday off, meals and a small salary. I shall leave tonight with any who wish to come." His proposal roused more talk in the crowd, but it was not the sounds of angry accusations, but of serious discussion.
Lisa also gave it serious thought. If she went with him, her father and sister would have some money to possibly buy some food if another trader came. Not only that, they'd have one less mouth to feed. She knew they didn't have enough food to survive the winter. This really was the only option.
Her father had forbidden it when she had brought it up later that day. He said that it sounded suspicious and that they needed her, she pointed out that Sally was older now than Lisa had been when she started looking after the family. He said that he understood, but that he couldn't let her do something like this and that it was better for family to stick together. Perhaps he was right. But she had already agreed to the deal earlier that day and signed the contract. After dinner and after her father had fallen asleep in front of the fire, she had gone to her room and taken her spare pair of clothes and the small copper chain of her mother's necklace, they'd sold the pendant, and wrapped them into a small package. She'd written a letter for her father and sister and left it on her night stand with the small purse of money the trader had given her. She turned off her light and slipped out the window, hoping they'd think she'd retired to bed and not find her gone until morning.
2.
Lisa and the trader had left that night as he had said he would. She was a little surprised that she was travelling alone and that nobody else from the village had agreed to go. It made her suddenly a little nervous. She was after all, alone with a man she'd never met before for the first time, but she tried to push her old fashioned ideals out of her mind and put herself at ease.
He seemed quite nice actually. He had said his name was Quince and that he worked for a merchant's guild, that a ship with many trained servants on had sunk and as the guild owned the ship it had been their job to find replacements. When she'd asked why they'd not hired from the city he'd laughed and explained that it wasn't fashionable to have servants who were from the city you lived in. He was quite friendly, although a little closed lipped. He wore sturdy looking travelling clothes, made from good leather with thick stitching and knew a little about travelling from the wear around the cuffs of his jacket and the clean and refreshed look of the horse that pulled the cart they rode upon.
They had stopped later that night at a clearing by the side of the road. They slept on the ground, he had a spare bed roll that she could use, that although a little stale smelling, was well appreciated. When she awoke she heard voices. She sat up, stretching and blinking her eyes open to see that a few other carts had pulled into the clearing. Quince was talking to a taller, larger looking man and after a few moments he came back over. "Ah, you're awake, I've already watered the mare, she's ready to set off any minute now, so see to any needs and we'll be off."
Lisa sat up and rolled up the bed roll before loading it back onto the cart, "Who are these people?" He glanced around and smiled.
"Just other travellers, a couple of merchants and some caravan guards, we're travelling in the same direction so we'll be riding along with them, it is safer to travel in a group on the roads." Lisa agreed that it sounded like a sensible arrangement. She saw to her morning needs before re-joining Quince on the front of the cart. That day was a much less pleasant travel than the evening before.
One of the caravan guards, that Lisa was sure was no more than a common mercenary, had taken it upon himself to constantly berate her. He'd made lewd comments, a few distasteful suggestions and spent most of the journey with his eyes on her, anywhere but making eye contact. She'd heard one of the other mercenaries calling him Inx, not that she really needed a name for such a vile man. She'd asked Quince again whether they had to travel with these people, but he'd simply replied that it was better than getting attacked by bandits and it was only for a day and a half after this one.
As they stopped and set up camp she wondered if she really could stand another day and a half of Inx's 'company'. As she brought back a bundle of kindling for the camp fire that one of the other men was starting to cook dinner over she was caught off guard as he landed a slap on her behind, "Got some other wood you can help me with, seeing as you're done with that, sweetheart." He said with a crude, brutish laugh. She jumped, her hands covering her rear as she spun around and gave him a venomous look. She wasn't one to lose her temper, but the boredom of travelling coupled with the emotional stress of leaving her family behind and his constant harassment had gotten to her.
"I'm not your sweetheart, or your honeycakes, or any other name you come up with that is sickening to hear from your lips. My name is Lisa." She could and should have stopped there, but she'd been bottling it up all day, "Do you try and seduce every woman you meet the same way? Maybe the infamy of 'one inch Inx' is what makes you have to try so hard? Because, if you weren't trying so hard, there'd be no way to know if you
were