I Am Not A Slave

It's nice to be writing for lit again. I've had a few years away and decided to start with a new profile. It you're interested in my earlier writing I might drop in a few hints, further into this series which will make it more helpful to figure it out, but it's fun to have a little mystery :) I began this as a train of thought, and I ignored it for a long time, but I found it again, and decided I wanted to explore Andressa's world a little. And I know I'm not getting anything with anyone just now, so might as well stretch the imaginations legs. Please comment, I'd really like some help with where this should go.

Enjoy :)

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"Kneel at his feet when he approaches you..."

"...and then?"

"You will know what to do." There had been no malice in the old woman's voice, but there was sympathy neither.

"I am not a slave. I am by choice given my service and body into the protection of the Commander's house. I am a guest and for this kindness I am pleased to be of pleasure." How many times had she said those words. No one ever listened, no one ever said anything other than "bend over, or "lie down" or "kneel." Shitting contracts. It was all a lie. She had been 18 when she had arrived, carried along by other girls and their stupidity. Promises of jewelry and wealth, a husband and lasting protection. It was the safe place to sleep at night and the food she had come for. She had never seen finery as she had been presented with.

Yes she had knelt, and then to her surprise she had been helped back to her feet and told to come to the window and see the view. And then her world had exploded as she had seen women writhing in pleasure atop of men atop of tables upon the balcony, and then beyond them an impossible expanse of sea view. And when she had seen her fill, and desire had taken her they had taken her away and clothed her and presented her before guests and no one had ever touched her.

She despised her existence here. All they did was stare at her. Yes she was of pleasure she surmised dryly to her self but mainly to old men, who jerked themselves to their own ends before her pitiless expression. She could never hold the contempt from her eyes and after a while she began to not even try or care.

This day was fine and no one had come to show for her in a few hours. It was normal for one perhaps two men to come and "view her" but today she had visited only once and he had acted peculiarly. He had stared at her, and she had stared back. She made no motion to remove her clothing, the Commander's House of Games had failed to amuse or even titillate anymore. She had less reason to complain for she had multiple friends and all the girls were kind to each other. She had been here two years and she had touched no one. If anything there was a kind of mocking humour the other's bestowed upon her. She burned for the younger men but never allowed any to see her glance upon them for more than a moment. Many said she was of feminine tastings and that for some abnormal reasoning was profoundly erotic to those who visited her and splattered at her feet time and again.

She had done as they had asked her to pose for well over a year until she thought about the words she always said upon their entrance and she replied, "I am not a slave". Shortly from that moment she began to seek out other occupance and mainly it surrounded reading and drawing. She ventured to the stables one day and asked a groom to ready and saddle a horse for her.

The groom had looked astonished and then awkward, and had taken some time to return but once he did he had handed her the reins for the delicate palomino and offered to assist her in mounting. At this stage she had almost panicked.

She recovered her self, and enquired quietly, "would it be possible to be lead?" The groom smiled at this and then began his chivalry routine. And then that game had lost interest for her. Being led turned to lessons and after 6 weeks, when she found time between reading and not answering her door when people came for her, she learnt to ride, and was soon able to canter.

One night she came upon her groom whose name would not be given to her, leaning against a column of the court yard. His focus was upon the sky apparently, but his trousers were at his ankles. To her surprise and then sudden crushing disappointment he was jerking himself maniacally to a kiss couple of girls upon the balcony above.

She cleared her throat and declared she wished to mount. If he would attend her. His gaze dropped slowly but then he leered at her, and said words that floored her.

"I am ready and most eager to be mounted. If you would attend me." There were gasps then silence from the balcony. One of her friends Malya stared down at them.

She nearly turned on her heel, and then at the last moment walked past him into the stable. She would see to her own mount. That perverted and impotent groom be damned.

No man could a full man if he only wished to view women together, by that meant simply to watch.

"You find no pleasure here?" An enquiry came from the back of a wall over the top of which she could not see. Impatient and annoyed with herself and her groom she responded before she could moderate her tone. Only those of a high station addressed questions with piqued tones.

"Who has offered me any pleasure?" The bitterness dripped from her lips and she stalked away without a glance behind her. Her foot fall reached the far end of the stable she shoved the heavy doors aside and sought refuge in her own room but before she got there she decided to seek a truly secluded place, the library.

It was late in the evening and by candle light when she returned to her room. Upon entrance she passed a tired looking man, who immediately departed once she was closing the door to her room. She had almost managed to smile at him but he had neither seen, nor cared for her look.

And then a knock came. She was tired and confused. No one ever sought her after the sun fell. At the door she found the Commander himself and another man as tall, but with dark hair which fell into deep set brown eyes.

"Andressa, this is Buchanan. He is here to see to your pleasure." he said not another word and turned on his heel. They watched him depart together and then Buchanan entered her room and then shut the door behind them. Andressa looked around in confusion.

"I am not a slave. I am..." The shattering glass, cut him off when it hit the floor and shattered into sparkles all across the floor.

"I will not be mocked!"