Twins of Trallis: Sandstorm

Authors Note: This is a continuation of the Trallis: Summer storm dancer story.

~ellie

Twins of Trallis: Dancer in the sand

Nyx had been born into a cruel and harsh world. Her mother lay dying as she took her first breath and as the illegitimate daughter of the Lord of their realm hers was to be a life of slavery and humiliation. Janus, the physician who had attended her birth had been the only one present and paying attention to the dying woman when the second child was born. The first born of the twin girls and having been branded as an illegitimate heir, she was condemned to a life of drudgery and taken away by a kine as soon as the brand had been applied. The second child's arrival had in contrast been silent and secretive.

Janus's heart broke as the woman looked down upon her babe while he held it close to her, and she closed her eyes as the last of her life's blood ebbed away. He closed the eyes of sweet natured and beautiful young woman who had been stolen from her family and forced to endure the harsh treatment of Lord Gerahn as a mistress.

The physician had attended her often over time, healing the damage inflicted upon her small body. She neither complained nor sought relief. He had been so taken with the brave young woman who had taken the name Nyx, meaning nothing that he had begged to know her real name. He had attended her throughout her pregnancy, thankful that Gerahn had lessened in his mistreatment of her for the term of nine months and slowly she had opened up to Janus about who she was and where she had come from.

"I am so sorry, Dana, you deserved much better than this," he whispered his eyes misting as he wrapped the silent child within a blood covered sheet with the placenta. No one would question his taking of the placenta to examine it for skullduggery and he hurried out of the room willing the silent babe to remain so. In his mind he promised Dana to make a better life for at least one of her children. Better than the life that awaited the first borne of the twins should she survive the branding and be cared for by the kine.

Wanting to save a small part of Dana from the horror she had endured, he fled the castle. He had hurried back to his rooms where he examined the child and sent a special messenger bird winging its way eastward to the small village where a young physician resided who could care for the child in safety, his wife having just lost a child of her own to the sleeping sickness. He then sat and planned how he would feed and care for the child without being discovered until the arrival of his friend.

*****

Twenty years later: Nyx's story.

Nyx's long strawberry blonde hair had endeared her to the favored slave of the trader who had bought her as a child to the hot sands of the desert people. In this good fortune, rather than a life of drudgery which most slaves endured, she had been taught to dance. Nyx did not look like the other dancers and this in itself gave her a certain exotic appeal to the people of the oasis where she had lived for the past decade. From the time she had been shown the first steps of a simple dance she worked at learning all of the dances of the desert people. She attended lessons and practiced under the gentle hands of Neema, the woman who had protected her since her arrival so long ago and whom she thought of as a mother.

As a dancer Nyx enjoyed a life of certain privileges that other slaves did not and knowing this she worked hard at perfecting the craft. She did not have an overabundance of breast or the wide hips of the other girls, so she put more into the story of her dances, using her differences to her advantage. She was pale and slight with wide green eyes in stark contrast to the olive skinned, fuller figured, brown eyed girls of the desert people. She had learned to use foul smelling mixtures to increase the natural fair streakiness of her hair as she grew older. The effect of the procedure on her hair making it almost seem like a wave of soft cognac hues glinting red and brown within a golden wave of silky tresses.

Nyx had grown into a delicate young woman when she finally fell under the eye of a visiting chieftan, who, after haggling, paid an exorbitant price to the slave trader for her. Packing her small dancers chest and with many tears and shrieking from her slave mother, she was taken away to the tent city oasis of the chieftan, Mahan.

"You belong to me now tiny dancer," he had stated as she was brought in trembling to kneel before him. "Dance your submission to me and I will give you a collar and brand that will keep you safe from all else who desire you. If I do not see your submission in your dance I will give you to my captain."

Nyx looked around and saw the captain eye her eagerly. "May I have a moment to gather some silk to dance with, please Master?"

The chief nodded and she turned quickly to the small dancer's chest that had accompanied her to this place. Adorned in white silk with bells on her ankles she stood and looked up at the man who now owned her. He nodded again watching her intently. Moving away from the chest to the pole in the centre of his tent, she let the bells ring out a measured rhythm as she prepared.

Nyx shook her head so her silken tresses cascaded over the white ribbons of silk that clung to her shoulders and small frame. With small painted toes pointing the way she delicately stepped, her hips swaying to the beat of the bells, her feet sliding along cool tiles. This was a man that was unknown to her, yet she wanted to please him, her eyes the colour of new palm leaves lighting on him briefly. Her shoulders trembled in fear as she swayed before him to the soft beat of the bells, her delicate fingers holding the white silk that marked her as new to his world, virgin like in this dance of the new slave.

Her body quivered beneath the silk then suddenly her arms flung wide, as if tugged by unseen bindings; she appeared to struggle in her dance, to pull the silk back around her as if shamed at her naïve nakedness. The tempo of the bells became faster with her feet and she gasped straining against the unseen forces as the white silk ribbon was seemingly torn from her and fell from her undulating body now covered only by the plain collar of a homeless slave girl with a single white ribbon tied to it.

Nyx sank to her knees, crawling with feline grace back to the central pole of this tent, thoughts flooding of Neema and the home she had lost, sounds of her heart pounding its rhythm setting her pace as her hair flowed in a puddle about her face, she appeared to be seeking escape. She rose to tiptoed feet, petite frame bare, with leaf green eyes lowered to the ground, aware of the cold pole pressing against back she slid like a quivering leaf back to the ground. Knowing she was but a slave, she let the joy of dancing fill her heart once more.

Springing up to lithe legs pulling a ribbon of emerald green silk with her, a small smile crossed her pink lips and she twisted and swayed her form wrapping the new silks softness around her. Nyx twirled round the room, silk flying behind, she looked into the eyes of her new owner feeling his judgment upon her as she flew through the air landing with the utmost grace just inches from his feet, stopping with the last beat of her bells.

Nyx melted at his feet, as if giving up the struggle and handing over her mind, body and soul to him. Fire still in her heart, her skin shining with sweet perspiration in the torchlight, her long hair bouncing down her straight back, she looked up at him then lowered her head. Her hair fell and veiled her while her face touched the ground at his feet to show him the submission he asked for. She raised her arms outstretched and crossed in offering, a single white ribbon dangling between her fingers and the plain slave collar she wore.

She dared not look up as he took the ribbon from her fingers and tugged on it raising her chin. Keeping her eyes downcast she saw the metal cutters as they glided along her throat to bite into the simple ring surrounding it.

Taking her chin he lifted it, and she reluctantly looked up at him, "Raise your head and be proud tiny dancer you have earned a great collar this day." With that he let go of her chin and forcing the simple ring apart and away from her throat he replaced it with a wider band of silver intricately carved with symbols and hung with four rings that spun around it circumference as he locked it in place. One of the rings held a shining silver disc, "This," he said proudly holding the disc, "is my mark you bare it as my property. You now belong to me."

"You will call me Mahan, and you shall keep your name, Nyx, my tiny dancer, it suits you." The captain lamented what was almost his and congratulated the chief on a fine purchase. "Leave us, and heat the iron" the chief growled and the captain and his two men who had watched her dance left the tent.

As they left, the chief bent forward and picked Nyx up throwing her over his shoulder. "Let's see what else you have to offer your new Master." The girl squirmed. While not a virgin she had been largely left alone thanks to her protective slave mother and she bit at her lip in anxiety at what awaited her.

He lowered her surprisingly gently to the bed and discarding his clothes quickly he lay beside her. "Show me your submission tiny dancer, pleasure me."

Placing her hands on his chest she leaned in to kiss his cheek and jaw purring into his ear, "As you wish, Mahan." He rolled to his back and she kissed down his neck and over his chest with light feathery touches, her mind whirling to remember all she had been taught. Her hands trailed long painted fingernails along his rib cage as she lowered her mouth to his hardening manhood.

Her lips encircled him and she heard him groan, his hips thrusting forward. Her tongue danced around the head as she sucked him into her mouth. Nyx's head bobbed as she took more of him into her mouth sucking and rolling her tongue around his cock. She liked the feel of the hard flesh in her mouth and she wriggled in pleasure as she sucked, her hands reaching up to wrap around the remaining shaft and heavy sac that hung below it.

Mahan groaned again and pulled her up to him. She squirmed against his body. He made her straddle his thighs and eventually sit up upon him. "Dance for me, show me how gracefully you can move," he smacked her ass and she rose and fell on him slowly at first, increasing her tempo at his urgings.

She was panting as she ground down into him, rubbing her tender hooded clit against him. His hands grasped her hips forcing her to pound down into him in increasing tempo. He groaned loudly and she felt him swell within her, rolling her hips she ground down further onto him until he stilled her movements. His pulsing manhood caused her to arch back and rub her clit into him seeking her own release, she cried out with him and slumped forward onto him quivering in pleasure. Surprisingly softly he cradled her in his arms and rolled with her to his side staying within her.

They lay like that for a few moments, his hands softly petting her before he stood and pulled on his pants. Picking her up, he carried her out to the courtyard before his tent. Tying her hands and feet and binding her tightly to a large tree he placed a folded wad of cloth between her teeth. "This will hurt but it must be done now, so none can take you from me," his voice was soft in her ear but his words created terror in her mind. She knew what was to come but she was unprepared for the pain of being branded. She screamed around the wadded cloth and her eyes rolled in her head as she went into shock.

Mahan cut her from the tree and took her back to his bed caring for the wound himself. Her thigh throbbed for days as he tended the wound. He was gentle with her and while he still used her body it was gentle and sweet always careful of the new brand. As time wore on a stylized geometric shape of a falcon appeared on her thigh.

.........................

The following months with Mahan had been happy ones. He was hard and uncaring when his men were present but when alone he was a considerate and gentle lover. Nyx dwelt for the most part within her new owner's private tent not seeing much of the life in the oasis city. She danced mainly for an audience of one and was showered with gifts of beads and silks to add to her dancer's chest. Jealously proprietorial Mahan covered her entirely in swathes of dark materials when she went out in public the only clue to her identity was in green eyes that peeked demurely between scarves that covered her head and face.

Nyx was largely unknown to any but her owner and his captains in the town she had been taken to and because of this rumors began to surface about the small woman who lived in the chief's private tent. Blissfully unaware of the rumors and attention that she had attracted as the favored hidden slave of a chieftain, Nyx had been startled when Mahan had entered the apartments his eyes blazing and called her to him.

"Tell me how you became a slave in our lands," his tone was hard and abrupt.

Nyx trembled; she had not seen him act this way before and in an effort to placate him she went and knelt before him in the act of submission before she started her story. The memory was dim now, and she barely remembered the faces or names that went with the sketchy outline she gave him. Her father had died suddenly leaving her and her mother no option but to try to seek out safety with her own family and they had travelled to that end. Slavers had picked them up along her route and she had been sold into slavery to the desert people as a child. The memories were dim and unhelpful she remembered the mountains and grasslands vaguely but all else was lost to her.

"I had hoped the rumors were false like all of the others of your origins," he patted her hair softly. "Pack your chest we must travel to the Sand Lord's Palace. Dress carefully. Show no skin and veil your eyes."

Nyx did not question him. Raising on the graceful legs of a dancer she quickly did as she was bid while Mahan issued orders to his captains sending them away. Turning back into the room Mahan walked behind her and picked her up around her waist and carried her to the bed. His hands travelled over her body massaging and stroking until she purred in heat. Rolling her to her belly he kicked off his pants as he raised her hips and entered her roughly. He reached forward his hands grasping her breasts as he pounded into her savagely needing to possess her.

She cried out for him, begging for more with her body as she bucked back into his thrusts. He groaned and abruptly pulled out of her, throwing her to her back he stared down into her pretty face as he spurted ropy strands of cum over her body. Taking her hand he guided her to rub it into her soft flesh as he murmured darkly. "You belong to me tiny dancer, you must not forget."

"Never Mahan," she whispered breathlessly.

He dressed watching her rub the sticky fluid into her body and abruptly turned to leave. She waited a few moments and got up, dressing carefully and packing her chest. Within an hour a caravan had been assembled and Nyx sat within a wagon of similarly dressed women confused and withdrawn as the caravan left the safety of their oasis.

The gentle considerate lover she had known in their own private sanctuary seemed to be gone, and she found herself ignored during the daylight hours of travel. In the evenings she would be summoned to his tent where he would bathe her and take her with a savage passion before holding her close and letting her sleep. As dawns early light woke them he would fuck her hard and coat her body in jets of cum watching her rub it into her flesh and reminding her that it was he that owned her.

Four days of hard travel later, the caravan entered a large oasis of white marbled beauty. Forgetting to veil her eyes, Nyx looked around in wonder at all the colour and sound before a loudly barked command made her jump and cover her eyes once more. Though the veil muted the colours of the lamps hanging over the streets, she was still overawed by the spectacle of the only stone city in the realm of the sand dwellers.

The caravan came to a halt before an impressive building and Nyx was taken from the wagon. "This is so you stay close," Mahan murmured as he tied a wide leather thong to her collar wrapping the other end tightly about his fist. "Come."

Nyx followed stepping quickly to keep up with his large strides as Mahan led her into the building. They entered a small room decorated with brightly coloured rugs and cushions, where a man with a white streaked beard and very bright eyes sat cross legged at a low table. Glancing up, the man beckoned them forward. "Your captain arrived yesterday and told me of your theories regarding the rumors floating about our realm. The question is why men from other realms are hunting this girl?"

Nyx barely stifled a gasp as she knelt behind Mahan. "They often squabble over the lordship of realms; succession can be a messy business for mountain or stone especially," Mahan seemed to weigh his words, "she says she does not remember much except that her father was a good man that died an untimely death which lead up to her family's demise and slavery."

"Ah the intrigue of politics, and we hold something very valuable that others search for," a sly grin crossed the Lords face. "She will be safe here while we decide what the next course of action shall be. Go choose two eunuch's to guard her. I will send Lillas to show you to your rooms," the Lord waved his hand dismissing them, "Come back when you're done, we have more to discuss even at this late hour."

After walking through endless hallways for what seemed like hours Nyx finally found herself in a small room with a eunuch smiling at her and speaking in gentle feminine tones, "Lillas said your Master has been called back to meet with the Lord again, his apartments are next door and he has instructed you to bathe there."

"Oh yes, please," Nyx nodded enthusiastically. "I must smell dreadful."

The eunuch wrinkled his nose in distaste, "Well now that you mention it," his lips split into a grin, "I think we will need some strongly perfumed water to cleanse you of your master's scent."

"I think that was sort of his idea," she blushed deeply, "to mark his property. He does not let me mingle with others much."

"Won't matter here lovely, the Lord will take what he wants and the chiefs give him certain privileges with their property," the eunuch led her from the room chattering on as they walked. "The girls say the Lord is a great lover with the stamina of a much younger man, you will probably enjoy the experience if he decides to fuck you."

Nyx gasped and blushed. "I don't think Mahan will be happy about that," her voice trailed off as the eunuch laughed at her.

"Don't act so shocked lovely, you smell like a whore, given the right circumstances you can act like one too, I am sure. Your master will be much favored if you perform well for the Lord, that should motivate you, it's obvious you care about your master a great deal and he for you."

The straight talking eunuch continued to make her blush as he spoke about the types of things the girls told him about the Lords bedding habits while she stripped and stepped into the pond sized bath that had been sunk into the floor of the main room in her masters apartment.

"You are a pretty young thing," he said as he poured perfumed oil into the water, "such pale skin and golden hair below as well. How did a girl like you end up a slave to an oasis chieftain?"

Nyx decided to keep it short and without detail, "I grew up with the slave woman of a trader who taught me to dance. My master saw me dance once and he bought me. I have been with him ever since."