Amber's Enslavement

Chapter 7

Memories and Lies

Heversham Ranslan sat on his yeltin and contemplated what he'd been asked to do. There was no way that the Wizard's Guild would part with one of their precious books; certainly not so that it could be delivered to a slave house. The guild still hated that the houses created their own memory potions instead of buying them from the Guild. While alchemy was able to be practiced by anyone, even those without the spark, the Guild discouraged anyone outside the Guild from practicing it.

He urged his yeltin towards the front of the caravan; his sun shade flapping in the wind. "Soon, we'll have to use the more difficult underground routes," he thought to himself. Looking up at the two suns, he estimated that Fron, the smaller red one, was about ten percent larger. Two months from now, it would be twice as large and the burning time would begin.

"Brotin, I have a favor to ask of you."

The older man, riding at the front of one of the wagons, looked up. Heversham still couldn't get used to the weird device perched on Brotin's nose. In some of the alternate dimensions, such devices were called glasses, but here on Destran, they were almost unheard of and magical as well. "Yes, Guild Master. What can I do for you?"

"I need some scrolls copied; discretely."

"Ah, what scrolls are we talking about, and why the need for secrecy? Certainly the copying of scrolls hasn't become a crime?"

"I have several copies of

An Alchemist's Guide to Reagents and Mana

that I'd like you to copy over the next few weeks."

"Surely you'll only need copies of one."

"No, of each one. They're different editions, some of which are hundreds of years old."

"Master Ungol, just what are you expecting to find? And isn't upsetting the Wizard's Guild dangerous? We

do

depend on them for much of our ability to travel overland."

Brotin was referring to the sun shades and protective ointments that prevented the light from Fron from searing their skin. While there was nothing that protected them from the Burning time, even now prolonged exposure, such as that required by travel under the sky, would lead to pain, illness, and death. The magic in the shades faded from use, and of course potions, such as the ointment were used up and needed to be replaced. Unlike the slave houses, merchant clans, or guilds, didn't keep their own alchemists.

"What they don't know won't upset them. As for what I expect to find; nothing at all. These aren't for me, but for a client. It's not exactly what he asked for, but I suspect that we won't be able to acquire what he really wants."

"I don't suppose you're going to tell me what that is?"

"Now, Brotin, that would be telling."

*****

Amber went through the evening meal like a zombie. The attempts of the other slaves to engage her in conversation were fruitless. At a discrete signal from Bressala, the others left her alone. The meal seemed to stretch forever as far as Amber was concerned; yet it was over far too quickly.

"Come along, Amber. You need to see Lord Inclon."

"Mistress, I'm frightened. What if he's mad that I woke up?"

Bressala took Amber's face between her hands, looking into Amber's eyes with gentle assuredness. "Amber, Lord Inclon is

not

mad at you. If he was, I'd have been ordered to set up a public punishment. His official title is House Sage. He wants to understand what happened, I'm sure of it. As long as you're honest with him, you can't go wrong."

"If you're certain, Mistress."

"I am. Come along. If you're lucky, he'll want you to pleasure him tonight as well."

Somehow that wasn't a reassuring idea to Amber. With her memories intact, Amber was painfully aware of just how little sexual experience she had. The last thing she wanted was to disappoint someone as powerful as Inclon. For a brief instant, she longed for the bliss that was ignorance.

At the curtain to Inclon's suite, Bressala ran her hands across the fabric to let the people on the other side know that someone was there. Justilia pulled the curtain back and smiled.

"Is this Amber?"

"Yes. Lord Inclon asked for her to be brought to him."

"Yes, I know. I'll take her in to see him and bring her back when her service is finished."

"Thank you, Justilia. Amber, while you're here, Justilia is your Mistress and, of course, Lord Inclon is your Master. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"Come in, Amber. There's no need to be nervous. Lord Inclon is a gentle Master."

Amber followed Justilia into the room. An elderly man was sitting at a desk, several scrolls sitting off to one side. He looked up with tired eyes but a pleasant smile. Almost in spite of herself, Amber relaxed. Amber was led to the side of the desk and, remembering her day of training, knelt in front of Inclon.

Justilia whispered, "It's traditional to ask how you may be of service."

"Oh, thank you, Mistress. Lord, how may I be of service?" A tiny bit of worry crossed her face.

"Don't let these reminders worry you, Amber. This is, after all, your first day of training. We don't expect you to be perfect the first time out."

"Thank you, Lord."

"Amber, you present me with a mystery. While I enjoy solving the occasional puzzle, true mysteries are not to my liking."

"I'm sorry, Lord."

"Oh, I don't think you're responsible for the mystery, at least not directly. Still, I'm hoping you can help me solve this particular mystery. First, when you awoke the first time, could you remember who you were?"

"No, Lord. I couldn't remember anything and it frightened me."

"That's normal. According to Garth, you showed an exceptionally strong aversion to being a slave. Where did that come from? You see, most captives are resistant, but soon come to see that slavery is a good life. You never did, did you?"

"No, Lord, not before I was collared."

"Why, what made you so sure?"

Amber bit her lip, trying to think of how to answer. She knew why now; her time in Ravenshore had been so horrific that even subconsciously she rejected anything that resembled that experience. Her delay in answering didn't go unnoticed.

"You really don't know why, do you?"

Afraid her voice would break, Amber simply nodded.

"I see. Yet, according to Garth, your level of certainty was extreme. Has anyone told you what your home world was like?"

Amber gasped. Her heart lurched and she nearly swooned. "No, no one...Lord."

Inclon watched her reaction with an intense frown. The mere mention of her home world was a shock to her system. Inclon was positive now that parts of her memories were in some way available to her mind. Yet, something still didn't make sense.

"Amber, do you know why you woke from your collaring?"

"No, Master...Lord."

"I'm told that your first words when you woke were, 'I want to live.' Is that so?"

"Yes, Lord."

What Amber couldn't know was that Inclon also knew these were the last words she spoke before the potion had been given to her. In fact, Amber hadn't put that together herself. Inclon was a very methodical person and didn't believe in coincidence. He had his suspicions.

"Amber, do you remember dreaming while your collar had you sleep?"

"No, Lord," she replied with a quivering voice.

"Amber, what's made you so frightened?"

"Please don't kill me, Lord. I'm sorry I woke up, but I want to live. Please let me live."

Inclon fell back into his chair. Never before had a slave expressed a fear of being killed. By the time of the collaring, they all understood that slaves were so well protected that they couldn't be killed; not legally nor practically. Yet, this slave before him was terrified that she would be killed.

Amber was, in fact, afraid of being killed. She knew she'd somehow done what never had been done. She remembered from her home that the new and different was feared and sometimes destroyed. Maybe this place was no different. There certainly was evidence that this world was incredibly conservative and resistant to change.

"Amber, no one's going to kill you. Where did you get such a crazy idea?"

"I'm...I'm so different. I...people don't...they'll fear me...won't they?" Sobs punctuated her outburst.

"I see you still struggle with being sure of things you can't remember. Amber, no matter how sure you are of some things, Destran may well not fit those sureties. Keep your mind on the here and now; on this world, your new home. We have slaves from many different races. Different is good in our slaves. I suspect there'll be Masters clamoring at the chance to own the slave that awoke. So dry up those tears. I need to ask you some more questions."

"Yes, Lord." Amber was comforted by his concern as much as by his words. She still feared his finding that she remembered, but tried to calm herself. Remaining afraid now might make him suspicious.

"Tell me how you feel about being a slave now."

"Lord..." Amber hesitated, unsure of how to put what she felt. As he waited, she realized she couldn't take too much time. "Lord, I think I don't mind being a slave now. It's better than..." She stopped herself from saying, "before," and finished with, "being dead."

"Is slavery still evil in your mind?"

"No, not...not now."

"Why? Before your collaring, you were adamant that slavery was evil. Now you don't believe so. What changed your mind?"

"I...I don't know, Lord." Amber knew she couldn't tell him that now she had something to compare things to; that she remembered agreeing to this slavery to escape the horror that was Ravenshore slavery.

"Most curious." Inclon knew that deeply held beliefs didn't change for no reason. In fact, they usually required radically new information or perspective to change at all. Something happened while this girl had slept; he didn't know what, but Inclon was determined to find out. He wished she had her memories; it would make things so much easier. The magic to probe her subconscious would be frightfully expensive. Was the potion truly weakened, and if so, was that weakening allowing things to slip through? There were far too many questions.

"Amber, do you want to be a slave? I don't mean, do you want death less than slavery. I mean, would you choose slavery as a first choice?"

"Lord, I...no, I don't think so. But..."

"Yes?"

"I think I might learn to." Amber realized that she couldn't leave it at that. "Lord, it's not what I expected. I thought being a slave was about following orders and being less than a person. Yet, Carli wants her slavery to be complete. She didn't ask for the pleasure free week because she had to; she did that because she wanted to. I don't understand how she could do that. But, I know she does want it, with all her heart. She craves making people happy and giving them pleasure. I look at her and sometimes I..."

"...you want that for yourself."

"Yes, Lord. Being a slave means something to her. I'm not even sure I'd..." Amber couldn't finish, amazed at what she was going to say.

"Go ahead," Inclon's voice was full of expectation.

Amber swallowed and looked up at the Lord's eyes. All she saw there was kindness and hope. "Lord, I'm not even sure I'd call her a slave. I don't think she'll ever have to be commanded to do anything. Once she knows what someone wishes, she'll do it because that'll be what she wishes. Does that make sense?"

"Amber, that's exactly what a slave is; someone who gives pleasure because it's pleasurable to give it, whatever it might be."

"That's one of those things I've been so sure about. Slaves are property that obey from fear. Yet, that's not true here is it?"

"No, it's not. It's not surprising that you find yourself wishing for what Carli has. Who wouldn't want to know that everything they do gives pleasure to someone else. Unfortunately, some of us have to deal with the unpleasant side of life. I'm sure that you'll make an excellent slave, Amber. Justilia, I've finished with Amber. Please escort Amber to Bressala."

"Yes, Master. Come along, Amber."

"Yes, Mistress."

In a short while, Amber was back with her trainer and fellow trainees. Yolanda and Thebes were lying together, gently caressing each other while Bressala looked on. Bressala held her finger to her lips, signaling for quiet. She waved Amber over to her. Amber saw a partially red timing stone on the table beside Bressala.

Amber was confused by what she saw. Thebes wasn't aroused; at least not fully. Likewise, Yolanda was not very excited either. In fact, both seemed to be trying to

not

arouse the other. How that was possible was a mystery to Amber. Just watching the pair loving on each other was pulling moisture from her cunt and making her nipples hard. Her thoughts were taking a decidedly erotic edge. It didn't help that Bressala's hand was lightly caressing her leg. This erotic display went on for another half hour before the stone gave a small red flash.

"Very good, both of you. Now, practice your oral skills. First one to cum gets a paddling." Before she had finished the instruction, both had swiveled around and attacked each others' pussy or cock. Bressala turned to Amber. "Do you understand what they were doing?"

Amber didn't respond. Her arousal was increasing as she watched the two slaves licking and sucking at each other, moaning in response to their own stimulation. Bressala grasped Amber's chin and turned her head.

"Amber, you need to pay attention when your Master or Mistress is talking to you."

"I'm sorry, Mistress. I'm..." Amber couldn't make herself say the words.

"Yes, I know. You're hot and in need of a hard cock in your cunt." Amber blushed. "It's going to get worse before it gets better. Now, as I asked, do you understand what they were doing?"

"Uh, no, Mistress. They were loving on each other, yet neither one was aroused very much."

"That's what they were doing. Sometimes a Master of Mistress doesn't want sex per se; what they want is to cuddle with someone. Slaves have to be able to pet others without arousing them. A man who's sad at the loss of a loved one doesn't want to fuck you; merely to be comforted. You need to be able to provide that pleasure as well."

"I think I understand, Mistress. We have to be able to give whatever our owners need us to give, even if it's not sex."

As she finished, so did Yolanda, cumming with a cry. Shortly after, Thebes came as well. Thebes looked up with a smile on his face while Yolanda looked up with trepidation.

"Yolanda, looks like you get to feel the paddle again."

"Yes, Mistress. I was closer this time, though."

"I noticed. Maybe next time. Go in and fetch the number one paddle."

"Right away, Mistress."

Bressala turned to Amber. "Amber, would you like to be paddled as well?"

"Of course no..." Amber hesitated in her denial. She saw something in Bressala's face; a yearning. Bowing her head, she whispered, "Mistress, I want what you want."

Bressala smiled. She always gave new slaves this choice and only a few thought of the answer she was looking for. Amber was going to be an exceptional slave.

"Amber, I want to paddle you; not as punishment, but to bring me pleasure. Go fetch the number three paddle."

Amber gulped at the though of that paddle being used on her. Trembling, she rose and walked to the punishment wall and retrieved the large paddle with the sharp bumps on one side. She took it back to Bressala, kneeling as she handed it over. Yolanda was lying on the bed with her hands tied behind her back. Thebes was bringing the paddle down with slow measured stokes. Yolanda's ass seemed to rise up to receive the strokes.

"Amber, I'm so proud of you. Are you scared?"

"Yes, Mistress. It's going to hurt, isn't it?"

"Yes, it will. Stand up."

When Amber was on her feet, Bressala put one hand against Amber's pussy, slipping her middle finger into the folds. Amber's cunt was already moist from watching Thebes and Yolanda earlier. Bressala made sure Amber's clit was in just the right position.

"Amber, I'm not going to use the sharp side; you're not ready for that. Remember, this isn't punishment; it's to give me pleasure. Keep your hands away from your body."

In reality, Bressala didn't enjoy the act of paddling or whipping her trainees. She did, however, enjoy giving them pleasure and she was intending to do just that for Amber. While Amber had obviously not achieved symbiosis yet, she was aroused by a spanking.

The first blow caused Amber to squeal. Bressala had hit her with very little force and there was relatively little pain. What had happened was that Amber's clit had rubbed against Bressala's palm. The mild pain and the pleasure of being hand fucked was a surprise. As each blow fell, Bressala slowly increase the force. Amber didn't notice as her arousal climbed, increasing the pleasure to match the pain.

Amber grabbed Bressala's arm in order to obey the command to not touch herself. Tears were streaming down her face and her juices were dripping down Bressala's hand. Soon Amber hovered on the edge of orgasm. Bressala held her there, waiting. The pain of the paddling seemed to hold her back, yet she wasn't sure if it was because there was too much or not enough. Finally she could take no more.

"Please, make me cum, I need to cum."

Bressala gave her one final stroke, this one the hardest she could. Amber exploded in her climax, her body hanging limp on Bressala's hand as she shook in ecstasy. The paddle was dropped to the floor and Bressala massaged the deep red ass she'd just been swinging at. Slowly Amber settled and was able to catch her breath.

"My God! What did you do to me...Mistress?"

Bressala gently set Amber down next to Yolanda, whose spanking was also finished. Soft caresses continued over her body as she basked in the glow of the powerful orgasm.

"I gave you pleasure. Actually, I did more than that. I gave you pleasure while you were experiencing pain. It's not true symbiosis, but it shows you what symbiosis can feel like."

"Carli's going to feel like this when she reaches symbiosis, Mistress?"

"Oh yes, and so will you. We need to go to bed. Morning doesn't come later because we stayed up late."

*****

Brotin's eyes widened as he worked on a particular passage on the scroll he was copying. Like most sages and scribes, he had a quick hand and was able to copy a full scroll in under a week. He'd decided to work his way through the various editions of

An Alchemist's Guide to Reagents and Mana

in reverse chronological order. He'd finished the version from 100 years ago yesterday (he assumed that whomever Heversham's client was, he wasn't a wizard and thus already had the 50 year old version). Brotin had finished the first foot of scroll when it hit him; the scroll

was

different from the previous one.

Under normal circumstances Brotin trusted his memory. This was too amazing to leave to his mind. Rising, he made his way to the casket that contained the scrolls and retrieved the one he'd finished with. He'd been surprised that Heversham had several copies of the scroll. The Guild was very adamant about old copies being returned. He didn't, however, ask how the clan had come to own so many copies. Sitting back down at his desk, Brotin opened both scrolls and compared the passages. He was right, there was a difference. Not only was there one, but if his limited understanding of alchemy was correct, the changes could drastically affect what a potion using this particular ingredient did.

Brotin mentally tipped his fist at Heversham. The clan leader's instincts were as sharp as ever. The client may well be satisfied with these copies instead of what he asked for. The only question was why? Why was the Wizard's Guild doing this? What did this mean? And what would be the impact on the clan? Rolling up the first scroll, Brotin returned to his quill, glad he wasn't the Guild Master. Politics is best left to those with a talent for it.