Hi. I felt like trying something quite different from what I've seen here. Perhaps it's too ambitious, but I must at least get it out here first. Apart from the content tags, I feel like I must mention this is a slow burn story when it comes to getting to the actual sex. There
is
sex in this first chapter, but I hope the character and power dynamics will be a source of satisfaction for you as well.
***
Sulatrava faded in the horizon to the rhythmic sound of hoofbeats. The farther they moved from the Bbrasian capital, the rougher the road became. Every now and then, a harsher bump would force Ezzo out of the privacy of his own thoughts.
This trip had deviated sharply from his expectations right from the start. During his short few weeks as a slave, he hadn't ever been pushed into the same carriage as the people who owned him. Right now, inside the cushioned, opulent wagon, he was trying to make himself as small as possible so as to not even touch the woman that had seemingly purchased him on the spot. He was tucking his bound hands between his legs, unable to hide them any further.
The slavedriver had made it abundantly clear that he'd intended to auction Ezzo off, but she had been rather insistent that she would walk out of there with a new Scombian slave.
The bribe to pull that off couldn't have been small
, he thought.
The other passenger was a mature woman. Buxom, with long, gray hair. Ever since Ezzo had stepped into her carriage, she hadn't lost the unsettling smirk that tugged at the corners of her lips. He could feel the Bbrasian woman's intriguing blue eyes scanning him over and over again. There was a faint pleasant smell to her that Ezzo had a hard time identifying. He hadn't spent enough time among the Bbrasian gentry to know their perfumes.
Eventually, she extended a hand to push a lock of black hair out of his eyes.
"Look at me," she commanded, her tone not excessively harsh. "Do you know who just bought you, Scombian?"
For the first time, Ezzo dared to openly stare at his buyer. She was wearing a form-fitting purple dress that most women her age would not be bold or attractive enough to wear. There was a single ring on her left hand, probably a wedding band. The soft wrinkles on her face creased gently as she adopted a bemused smile. She adjusted her posture, giving Ezzo a better angle to glimpse her curves. Being stared at, it seemed, didn't bother her.
"So?" she pulled an embroidered handkerchief out of her sleeve, wiping her pale hand as if the very act of touching Ezzo's hair had dirtied it. Her smile lingered, though.
Ezzo could only shake his head.
"No? Tsk, tsk, tsk..."
She let her head rest against her hand, eyeing Ezzo as if his ignorance was the most fascinating thing she'd seen in a long while. Ezzo couldn't avert his eyes from hers for longer than a second.
"Don't look away. We're having a conversation," she commanded. Her strict tone didn't match the bemused expression on her face. "Tell me your name, slave."
A moment of silence went by. As if the gods themselves wanted Ezzo to snap out of his apprehension, the carriage went through another harsh bump.
"E-Ezzo," he finally sputtered out, his voice low. "My name is Ezzo, my lady."
The woman's smirk gained a predatorial edge as she heard him speak.
"Ah. The musical Scombian cadence. How delightful."
She let her eyes linger on him a while longer. Ezzo couldn't figure out how to react to her words under that unblinking gaze of hers. After a couple of seconds, the woman leaned forward, a gesture made far more tantalizing by the generous cleavage on her dress. Had it not been for the sudden invasion of his personal space, his eyes might have strayed there.
The woman's nostrils flared gently, her face mere centimeters away from Ezzo's chest. Her closed eyes and soft, lingering smile suggested she wasn't displeased by what she was smelling. Ezzo remained tense during this intrusion, only allowing himself to breathe once she leaned back against her cushioned seat.
"And the scent of Scombia too," she smirked. "How... pine-like. And here I thought it was a myth."
She rested her head against her hand again, her pinky finger now pushing gently against her lower lip. To say Ezzo couldn't understand her amusement would be an understatement. She sighed gently, as if resigning in recognition of a boring, but necessary step.
"My name is Vera Locke. Of course, that's Lady Vera or Mistress Vera to you."
She extended her pale hand to him in one regal motion. The Scombian had a faint idea of what was expected of him, but his mind was still adjusting to being so close to a Bbrasian noblewoman.
"We kiss highborn ladies' hands in Bbrasia, Ezzo," Vera said, raising a single brow in mild disapproval.
There was another moment of hesitation, before the Scombian acted. Bowing his head, Ezzo hurried to bring his lips to her skin. It was as soft and cold as its paleness suggested.
"Pleased to meet you," she withdrew her hand gently just as her smirk returned. "Ignorant as you may be of the family I represent and the customs of your masters, perhaps you will be able to guess what kind of... tasks your people are expected to perform in servitude."
There was a slight edge of cruelty in Lady Vera's smile now. Ezzo knew well enough why, at least. He gazed at her expectantly, waiting for her to spell it out for the both of them. Instead, her smirk widened, and she leaned forward.
"Don't think. Speak," she commanded.
"I know Scombians are seen as good for... companionship in Bbrasia," he tried to say it as politely as possible.
"'Companionship?'" Lady Vera raised a bemused brow. Then, she lowered her voice to a husky tone. "You mean like reading prayers and going out on hunts with your masters?"
The smirk on her face said it clearly enough: she wanted him to say it more explicitly. Ezzo wasn't sure if he wasn't being mocked.
"N-no," he muttered grudgingly. "Like... bedwarmers."
Lady Vera adopted an innocent expression, though she couldn't quite let go of her increasingly delighted smirk.
"Bedwarmers? You mean all that coin I spent on you could have instead been spent on a metal container and some embers? How silly of me."
Her eyes swiveled upwards to meet his with more than a hint of challenge. Lady Vera was staring intently, expectantly. Ezzo had to obey.
"Bbrasians see us as sex toys, Lady Vera," he sighed with a hint of frustration in his voice.
"Ah," she grinned sardonically. "That is more in line with what I have heard, yes."
He pursed his lips. There was something about being with this woman in a wagon that made him feel claustrophobic.
The fact she has stretched her legs like that is not helping. Nor is that expectant look on her face.
Not that he could do much about Vera's expectations on this topic. Ezzo's awareness of his people's sexualization stopped there. He'd been sexualized since arriving in Bbrasia, of course. He'd also been exploited, insulted, and underestimated. But slavery of any kind was wholly new to him. He wasn't sure whether sexual slavery was more horrifying than the regular kind.
"So you do know what you're getting yourself into," she continued cheerfully. "Well, you might think you do, at least."
Vera Locke let out an elegant chuckle, either oblivious to Ezzo's discomfort or reveling in it.
Definitely the second,
he told himself. Then, her blue eyes twinkled with mischief as she refocused them on her new possession.
"Though I don't doubt you're eager to please
me
, Ezzo," she placed a dainty hand on her generous chest. "I bought you for someone else. Of course, you will be the property of the Locke family.
My
family. But it will be my daughter that you will be... servicing."
She glanced out of the window. The urban landscape had wholly given way to endless vine and olive fields. The Sulatrava cobblestone had been thoroughly abandoned for primitive trails on the dirt. The Bbrasian countryside stretched out before them.
"I suppose..." Vera flashed him another smirk. "If you knew anything about us Lockes, you'd probably be able to guess we're quite... difficult to keep happy. At least, we're difficult to keep happy for long periods of time."
She covered a subdued giggle with her perfect hand.
"What I'm trying to say, Ezzo, is that you will be often... hmm..." she pushed an index finger against her cheek, her eyes narrowing in mock contemplation. "Let's say you will often be
reminded
that you are the property of our family, not just my daughter's."
The way she gazed at Ezzo suggested she wasn't exactly above issuing him those kinds of reminders.
If the flirting, the mockery, and the leering don't remind me of that already,
he thought to himself.
"And while your primary duty is to service your owner..." Vera's eyes lit up with a flame that hadn't been there before. "I expect you to be of use should any other Locke have need of you."
She let her gaze subdue Ezzo silently for a few more seconds, before leaning back on her seat again.
"Whether those needs entail companionship or... 'bedwarming,'" she chuckled mockingly. "Or anything less orthodox... I don't doubt my beloved family will make their desires quite clear to you. Though I do hope you're a quick learner."
Her smirk sent a shiver down Ezzo's spine. It hinted at entire hidden worlds of cruelty and lust entwining. Worlds which he would have no choice but to explore. And he found himself agreeing internally with Lady Vera Locke:
I hope I am a quick learner too.
"No words?" she raised a brow teasingly. "I trust you know you are not expected to talk back, but I also expect you not to deprive my daughters of your melodic Scombian accent."
Unsure of what to do or say, Ezzo merely bowed and murmured towards his own bound hands.
