She came into my smithy with a haughty look on her face. She was spoiled, no doubt about that, in her expensive, royal blue dress, dyed to perfection. Her perfect, thick brown hair spilled over her shoulders and she tossed it occasionally as if she was glancing at something far away. She had perfect, hazel eyes. A princess, the daughter of a lord, and just as arrogant as you might expect.
He was pathetic. Leaning over, as if permanently in fear of being beaten. He scurried behind her into the smithy and when they stopped, he cringed behind her as if afraid of being beaten. He wore very simple, rough cotton pants and a ragged motheaten shirt. Despite all this he was about her age, maybe 25, and apparently handsome, though it was difficult to tell with a man who never gave eye contact and always seemed about to burst into tears.
"I am willing to pay good coin to have you fit a collar to my slave. I trust it will not be difficult?" She addressed me directly, haughtily. I was her inferior, though a free craftsman and someone with at least some status. She addressed the slave harshly. "YOU. Lick my shoes."
As he rushed to obey, I considered. I had a few in stock, I just needed to provide a price, a price that was reasonable. "Of course, milady. Ten sciat." I held her eye contact as I gave my price. She may have been my superior, but I towered over her. Hopefully enough to intimidate her out of haggling with me over it.
"Done."
I headed to the back of the smithy, where I had a few collars of varying sizes ready. I picked one that seemed as though it would be a good fit, without chafing too much. I returned and handed it to her.
"Excellent. Now we can get out of this dark, smoky hole of a place, but first -- YOU. STAND."
Her slave immediately stood. He was handsome, thin but almost pretty, with large lips and round eyes. He raised his head slightly as she applied the collar. It snapped shut and she gave a nod and a subtle smile. Her slave was now collared.
"Thank you."
"Good day."
She left the smithy. It was getting dark, and I headed back to my hut. In some ways, I envied the man. The simplicity of his life -- nothing to do but obey. And she was a beautiful woman. Even as I had towered over her, I dreamed of how she could... Command me. What it would be like to follow her into her palace, to cook her meals, to undress her... I put the thought out of my mind. God did not permit such...
Longings.
Yet I fell asleep dreaming strange dreams.
I awoke to screams, and shouting. Something was happening. Someone burst into my hut.
I scrambled around to find my sword. It was a basic thing I had crafted mainly for rare cases of self defense. It was slightly uneven in places, but I was proud of it -- it was certainly as sharp as any weapon a lord or lady might wield. My hut was simple, round with a thatched roof and a fire in the center. The door was on the other side from my bed.
That was where she stood. She was tall, almost as tall as me, perhaps a couple inches shorter. She wore braided blonde hair under a wolf pelt that she wore on her head and draped over her back. Otherwise, she was naked, her skin covered with detailed tattoos of wolves, bear and other wild animals. She had large breasts hanging down, swinging as she moved. She was foaming at the mouth slightly. She carried two swords hanging from a belt, which were sheathed. The belt also carried a series of collars hanging from a chain, and rope.
"Leave this place heathen!" I yelled desperately.
She laughed heartily and made towards me, which I responded to by swinging at her wildly. I am not built like perhaps the stereotypical blacksmith, but I have a tight muscle to my 6 ft frame. I was naked, not having had a chance to dress.
