Free to Those Who Can Afford It

"Remember the accent. You have to sound the part as well as look it," Marionna halted her stride. She turned and held her face close, stern, "And the way they talk, and hold themselves."

Thilde glanced away at the ground, uncertain, "I don't know. I can't do it like you do. The voice."

Marionna huffed, "Or if you can't do it then just keep quiet and let me do the talking. Okay? Or act like you're so stuck up and super bitch rich that even talking is beneath you. Just answer my questions with 'yes' or 'no'."

"Okay," Thilde nodded, "Alright. I guess I can do that."

"But say it like they do," Marionna held her nose high in a disdainful frown and pursed her lips, "Yaaas. Nouhh."

Thilde snorted with laughter. She clapped her hand to her mouth, "Hah. You sound just like Lady Helène."

"Exactly. Act like you're Lady Helène," Marionna scowled, "Only an even bigger mega bitch than her. Like you have to hold your nose to even set foot in the market, and you can't wait to get out of there and back to your palace to bathe in fairy tears or whatever."

Thilde cleared her throat and concentrated, "Yaaaas. Noo-ooo."

Marionna cackled, "You're a rich bitch, not a cow."

Thilde giggled. She coughed and tried again, focusing on the shape of her mouth, "Nooouo. Damn it. Nah it's no good. You do it so much better. I can't do the 'no', only the 'yes'."

"Well then," Marionna looked up at her with a smirk on her face, "You'll just have to agree to everything I say, won't you. Now come on."

Marionna grabbed her by the wrist and they bustled onward along the roadside track towards the crowds and the stalls ahead.

"Is this really going to work?" Thilde called out in a whisper.

"Yes. It is. I've seen them do it at all the markets. If you look like you're loaded with gold, then they won't make you pay any up front. So you can try everything for free," Marionna slowed and then halted once more, "Relax. You want to do this, don't you?"

"I just..." Thilde hesitated, "What if we get caught?"

"We won't," Marionna replied firmly, "Now. Do you want to get your cunny poked or not?"

Thilde sighed wistfully, and nodded, "Yeah."

"Good. It'll be fine. We're at least half a day's ride away from Crudwall. Nobody knows us here. We're just two ultra rich and stuck up archduchesses, or something. We practically own the whole county and we're here to indulge ourselves, and to scatter absolutely disgusting quantities of gold coin like it's bird seed," Marionna hefted a bulging velvet purse tied at her waist, that Thilde recalled was in fact filled with bird seed.

As Thilde followed once more behind her friend, she examined the clothes they were both wearing. She had on a caustically clean white ruff-trimmed blouse, and a sweeping long corset gown in shimmering blue, both freshly pilfered that morning from Lady Helène's dressing room, along with a sack of jewels and pendants that she and Marionna had heaped around their necks and their wrists. Thilde was particularly taken with an egg-shaped emerald on a gold chain, which she had set about her neck so that it nestled in her bust. Lady Helène was about the same height as Thilde, so the clothes were an approximate fit. But Thilde was not as slim. The corset was extremely constricting around her stomach and was digging into her big hips as she hurried to keep up. The gaps between the buttons of the blouse were stretched to wide ovals by the swell of her big chest beneath. And now that the cool of their early morning departure had dissipated and the sun was starting to sear its way through the sky, the thin cotton of the blouse and of her underskirts was starting to cling to her skin with sweat.

Still, she thought she looked the part, more or less. Marionna on the other hand, almost a head shorter than Thilde and very petite, had had a rather harder time finding something in Lady Helène's wardrobes that would fit her. Her voluminous cream silk ball dress had been ineffectually hitched up inside at the waist, only to keep falling free, and the hem had gathered a dusty ochre rim of dirt from the floor.

They approached the first wall of awnings at the fringe of the market, and Thilde peered through the gap between two stalls. On the other side, the thoroughfare was busy with basket-bearing maids, wagon men, boys and girls with pails of water yoked about their shoulders, and the chirping of the tiny birds that always flocked to the markets to peck up the scatterings of breadcrumbs from the victual stalls.

"Okay," Marionna nodded sternly, "Ready?"

Thilde smiled at her, "Yaaas, Your Archduchessness."

Marionna's shoulders shook with sniggering, "Har har. Good. Okay here goes."

With her hand tightly clasped to Thilde's, fingers locked together, Marionna led her along under the awnings, then shouldered her way through a funneling crowd of marketgoers and into the space of the main gangway. She paused for a moment, held her head up, scanning the swaying pennants at the apex of each tent. Then she trotted on. Thilde observed as Marionna wrinkled her nose first at a butchery, then at an eelmonger's stand, each several paces checking the pennants hanging ahead.

Then as they rounded a corner Thilde's heart suddenly raced in panic as a ruffle-clad highborn lady passing in the opposite direction glanced at Thilde's jewelry and then raised one gloved hand and opened her mouth as if to greet them. But Marionna turned her nose up and looked away in a blatant snub, and yanked Thilde quickly onward.

They staggered on past heaps of apples and pastries, past the entrance to the long ale tent, and a jeweler at work over a crucible, until Thilde felt the slats of her corset beginning to jab her sorely in the hip and she had to stop to draw her breath.

"What is it?" Marionna tapped her foot impatiently.

"Just... a moment," Thilde gasped. Then she stopped, and looked around her. Her nostrils flared and she drew in a deep whiff of something rich and sweet and fruity. She sniffed again, "Oh. Wait. Is that... berry basket tarts?"

"Huh?" Marionna looked around and then spied the same stall that Thilde had just seen. She groaned, "I thought I fed and watered you just before we left."

Thilde took another deep breath of the sweet aroma of the tarts and her stomach gurgled with emptiness, "That was hours ago. Come on, can we get one? Please."

Marionna pulled her close and spoke softly. She patted the silk purse at her hip, "What are we gonna pay with, Lady Fatass? Birdseed?"

Thilde cocked her eyebrow, "I thought you said they let you try everything for free."

Marionna's lips narrowed. But Thilde could see behind the scowl a familiar smirk of mischief on her friend's face. Marionna was not going to pass up a chance to show off how clever she was.

"Merchant," Marionna called out in a sing-song drawl as she spun around to face the pastry stand, "Your fruit tarts."

A big woman in a baker's pinafore scurried over. With a towel she swatted at the little market birds to disperse them from the trestle bearing her wares, "Yes, m'lady?"

"Well," Marionna snapped her fingers. She held up the palm of her hand impatiently, "The ones with berries."

"Blueberries," Thilde added quickly, "Or strawberries."

"One of each," Marionna intoned.

"M'lady. Of course," the woman fumbled in the pocket of her apron and took a metal spatula with which she carefully lifted two of the tarts from their tray and laid them out on Marionna's upturned palm.

Marionna wafted her hand in front of Thilde's face, "Duchess."

Thilde's mouth was already wet and her gums prickling in anticipation as she lifted the first tart to her lips. After the delicious tough crumble of the pastry basket, the first thing to hit her tongue was the homely sweetness of honey. She swirled and munched and as the viscous honey dissipated in her watering mouth it came away from the blueberries it was coating and they began to pop between her chomping teeth, in little bursts of sugary tartness.

"Mmm," Thilde moaned and swiped a crumb from the corner of her mouth before grabbing the second tart.

"Leave a bit for me!" Marionna hissed.

"Oh. Omhh, yaaas m'Duchess, awfully sooorry," Thilde retrieved a last corner of the tart from between her teeth, along with half a strawberry, "Here."

Marionna flung the morsel into her open mouth, chewed, swallowed, and frowned. "Awful," she announced, "My stable hand makes better tarts than these. No thank you. Good day."

Then Thilde was yanked onward by the wrist before she could meet the gaze of the bewildered pastry merchant. She stumbled after Marionna, now marching with purpose.

"Oumf, slow down," Thilde giggled.

Then as they turned a quieter corner of the market, Marionna finally pulled up abruptly. She craned her neck and looked upward at the pennant fluttering above her head. Over the narrow slit entrance of a tent made of deep purple cloth was the flag of a slaver, stamped with the coffle motif, a row of black circles linked by a chain. Marionna squeezed Thilde's hand, looked back at her with a smile, and ducked in.

Inside, Thilde blinked her eyes at the dimness, and waited for her sight to accustom. There was a chink of daylight from a small aperture at the apex of the tent, but the rest of the light was the yellow flicker of candleflame. A slim trail of smoke curled from a single candle on a trestle desk, and its smoky scent mingled with a faint hint of sweat on bare skin.

Behind the table stood the merchant, a tall, old woman in a concealing purple cloak that showed only the sun-weathered ruddiness of her wrinkled face. As Marionna and Thilde entered, the woman smiled and croaked a greeting, "My... ladies. Welcome. I trust you are enjoying a fruitful day at market?"

"Yaaas ma'am, I mean, uh, m'merchant," Thilde stammered.

Marionna elbowed Thilde sharply in the side of her corset and stepped in front of her. She looked around, creasing her nose and huffing in disdain, "Do not trouble us with pleasantries merchant woman. We are here for your slave girls. That is, if you have any that should be suitable for a lady's leisure. If you do not, then good day."

There was a pause. The old woman hooked back the fringe of her cloak to peer out and appraise them both. Her gaze traveled up and down Thilde's body, lingering on her fine jewelry and necklaces. After similarly sizing up Marionna, the woman's inquisitive frown softened to a smile and she beckoned, "Of course. I do. Please, this way."

Her heart thudding, Thilde followed Marionna as the woman led them under a curtain and into a second chamber of the tent.

"If it so pleases my ladies, you may examine this girl. She is my finest," the woman stood aside, "She is very beautiful, and will be to your pleasure."

At the center of the tent space, her bare feet planted apart on the straw-strewn ground, there stood a very tall and very robust young woman, naked, with her arms upraised and chained by the loop of a manacle to the support pole that held up the roof of the tent. Her hair was fine and bright blonde and her skin was tanned a creamy brown. She was full-figured, but taut like a workwoman or a farmhand. Her legs were smooth and strong, her hips were broad and heavy, her big bust even more so, and her face was plain and sweet, but defiant, holding Thilde's gaze in an unblinking blue-eyed stare.

And her cock was gorgeous. Thilde stared longingly. The shaft was thick and heavy, hanging limp between her thighs, and the protruding tip looked soft and inviting.

"Ooh, oh, um," Marionna gulped and then composed herself, "Well, hmm, indeed, let me examine her. I will not suffer myself to be pleasured by just any runaway girl from the boglands."

"Oh no," the slaver woman chuckled, "She has never even seen the boglands. She is a spoil of war, from among the savage peoples of the plain. There I believe she was a princess, to her own tribe at any rate. She does not even speak our tongue."

"Very well. So let me see whether she can at least comply with a simple command," Marionna approached the chained slave girl, looked up at her and made a gesture of opening her mouth. She beckoned, "Come, open your mouth girl."

The girl opened her mouth. Marionna peered up, and the girl looked down at her. Then with a sly smirk in her eyes, the girl slowly and deliberately bent forward to bring her head down level with Marionna's short height.

Marionna hummed and humphed, her fingers in the girl's mouth, feeling roughly back and forth, "Hm, she does have fine teeth, and clean. So, let us see. Can she get hard for me?"

"For certain. She is eager and stiffens easily. As a princess, she was accustomed to receiving pleasure several times a day. Before her capture." The merchant woman stepped forward and laid her hand on the tiny strip of short blonde hairs at the base of the slave girl's cock. She traced a gnarled old finger upward and caressed a small teardrop motif that was painted on the girl's bare skin, just above, "Now, she is denied. Held always ready for service."

Thilde, who knew a fair bit of witchcraft from her aunts, recognized the lines of a Sigil of Denial, which had surely been placed there in order to prevent the slave girl from being able to reach orgasm, so that she would be able to stay hard for longer, and would not get her highborn mistress pregnant.

The old woman reached down and gripped the girl's cock in her hand, tugging it roughly. The girl's blue eyes fluttered closed and she huffed a little grunting breath. She walked her legs a little way apart to stand with her thighs spread, the better to expose her cock to the old woman's stroking. The woman pumped quicker, and the girl's sighs grew deeper, and then Thilde watched in gathering excitement as the girl's cock swelled and lengthened and then began to rise stiff.

"Satisfactory," Marionna smirked.

When the old slaver woman relinquished the girl's cock it remained rigid, stuck out in front of her, thick and twitching. Marionna took hold of it and looked up at the girl's face, now scrunched into an agonized grimace. "So. What is her name?"

The old woman reached up to the girl's neck and hooked aside the curtain of her blonde hair to reveal the buckled leather collar around her neck.

Thilde read aloud the letters inscribed at the throat of the collar, "Hmm, 'Lo'. How sweet. Very short name, curious."

The slaver woman turned and cocked her head, looked at Thilde quizzically, "Ah, My Lady does perhaps not yet own any slave girls? For they are always given the shortest names possible."

"Oh," Thilde frowned.

The woman smiled at her, "So as not to waste their mistresses' breath."

"We knew that," Marionna snapped, "And it is none of your business how many slave girls we may already own."

"Indeed," the woman nodded in deference.

Marionna turned to blink her eyes mischievously at Thilde, "So, does she please us? Shall we try her?"

Thilde looked at Lo's pretty, blue-eyed face, her cheeks now flushed a smooth pink beneath her tan. She watched Lo's cock twitch again, and a shudder of hot excitement coursed through her body. "Y-yaaas."

"Very well. Girl, we shall try you. And if you please us..." she raised her voice a little and enunciated carefully, "... then we shall buy you, whatever your price."

For a brief, slow moment, there was silence. Thilde watched nervously as the old woman eyed up the sack of birdseed on the belt of Marionna's dress. For a splitsecond, she felt suddenly sure their deception would after all be thwarted. But then the woman simply nodded and stepped away, curtsying at them as she departed through the tent flap.

Thilde waited, trying to rein in the sound of her excited breaths in the quiet after the merchant woman's departure.

Marionna looked around, waited a few moments longer, then clapped her hands together, eyes bright with excitement. "Hah! This big girl is going to plow my cunny til I squeal. Just watch."

"Watch you?" Thilde frowned, "Ugh."

"Well there isn't exactly anywhere for you to go, is there," Marionna giggled, "You can cover your eyes if you really must be such a prude."

Thilde looked around. Aside from the pole to which she was manacled, Lo's tent was bare.

"Though you'll have to stop up your ears too," Marionna stuck out her tongue, "My cunny is so wet you'll probably hear it slopping even over the sound of my moans."

"Shut it!" Thilde giggled. Despite herself, she could feel her own cunt beginning to flush with heat in sympathy with Marionna's excitement.

Marionna bent down and reached under the hem of her dress. She lifted it, bunching it up as far as her waist. Then she danced on her toes and twisted her hips, grunting in concentration as she tugged down her cotton underwear and slipped them off. She swung them on her finger in front of Lo's face, "I have something for you, girl. Can you smell how wet I am?"

Lo groaned when Marionna pressed the underwear to her face.

"My cunny is weeping to be filled by your lovely big cock," Marionna purred, "But first, you must kiss me."

She reached up, straining on her tiptoes, then leapt to grab at the chain of Lo's manacle wrapped around the tent pole. She dragged it down the pole to let Lo stoop lower, then when she could reach the top of Lo's head, she grabbed a fistful of blonde hair and thrust Lo's face against hers, smothering her in a breathy, giggling kiss.

"Kneel girl," Marionna gasped, "And kiss me properly."

Marionna stepped back a little and lifted the hem of her dress high in front of her. Lo groaned again and rolled her eyes, then knelt. With her wrists chained to the pole, she had to turn her shoulders and bend very low to get her head under Marionna's underskirts. Marionna staggered forward and planted her legs apart before thrusting her hips at Lo's face. Then she let the hem of her dress drop, and clapped one hand to the bulge of Lo's groaning head beneath to press it to the crux of her legs.

"Ohhh yes," Marionna drawled, "Yes! Kiss me, breathe in the sweet smell of a true noblewoman's cunny, slave. Ohh yeahh."

Thilde fidgeted on her legs as an uncomfortable swell of arousal gathered unbidden inside her. She looked around furtively at the entrance to the tent to be sure it was still hanging closed. Then she reached behind her back and unclasped the corset of her dress. If she was going to have her turn then it would have to come off sooner or later, and it was getting extremely uncomfortable. She pulled the dress down off her body and dropped it to the floor at her ankles, then breathed a slow sigh of relief and let her stomach bulge free back outward after so long spent squashed up beneath the corset. Having not found any of Lady Helène's underwear that fit her, she was bare beneath. She stood there in her blouse, trying not to stare nor to listen too avidly to Marionna's loud voice moaning and cursing in pleasure.

"Gah!" Marionna gasped, "Girl, you are abysmally bad at pleasuring with your mouth. I will tell your keeper I cannot buy you." She swept her dress up and flung it aside to expose Lo's tousled hair and flushed pink face. "Unless, that is, you can still finish me with your cock. Come," Marionna stepped back and then bent down to grip Lo's chin in her hand. She pulled the girl up and Lo staggered to her feet. Her lips were smeared wet and red with friction. Marionna pinched Lo's face in her fingers and pulled her forward to plant another groaning kiss on her mouth.

"Is it not my turn?" Thilde whimpered, "You've enjoyed yourself already."

Marionna spun round and glared at her. Feeling Marionna's gaze on her bare legs, Thilde reached instinctively to cup her bare cunt with her hand.

"Haha, you eager bitch," Marionna cackled, "Stop touching yourself. You'll have your turn. She hasn't finished me yet."

"Oh come on," Thilde giggled, "You were groaning like a stuck cow. She finished you once already, I know what it sounds like, I've heard you before, fingering yourself in the wine cellar."