Through the Veil of Time Anonymous One-Shot Contest

Story Title: SAMPLE ENTRY Slavery of the Heart

Summary: Bella is an untried pleasure slave given to Edward on his 18th birthday by his insistent father. Greek Togaward and Slave-girl Bella. AH, M for adult themes. OOC.

Time Period: Ancient Greece

Word Count: 4010 words

To view other entries, go there: http:/www (.) fanfiction (.) net/~throughtheveiloftime

Disclaimer: All characters, names, and things Twilight related are the property of Stephenie Meyer. This was written for entertainment and not for financial profit.


This is a sample entry written by one of our judges. We hope to show you what exactly we expect and what you can work with. We hope you'll be inspired!


I was officially an adult today, and my father was demanding I chose a pleasure slave… as was custom. I was reluctant. I mean, it's not like I didn't want to have someone at my sexual beck and call, but the idea of it being with a slave rather than a free willing participant made it hard for me to be excited in the way my father expected. I knew having a slave was the norm, but it's one that I, the political oddball of the family, was not completely comfortable with. Still, I was expected to play the good son, despite my unorthodox views, so I decided prudence was the better part of valor and went along with it. It's not like my protests would earn me anything but my father's displeasure. He would just go out and pick who he thought I'd like, and as evidenced by every other gift he'd ever given me, she would be the exact opposite of what would actually please me. So at least this way I might have a remote chance of finding someone even a little bit appealing.

We made good time across the city to the slave display centers in my father's new and rather ostentatious chariot. I couldn't help but be slightly titillated by all the nubile flesh so openly on display. I was glad for the screening properties the extra layers my formal clothing afforded me today.

An associate of my father's had referred us to a relatively new establishment. No doubt we would benefit from a "Friends and Family" discount. I had to work not to snort. My father, while always demanding the best, wasn't above seeking a bargain so long as it didn't mar his precious reputation.

Upon entering the main display courtyard I steeled myself for what promised to be a trying day. The first few slaves were nothing close to what I'd desired. They were voluptuous, gorgeous even, but in an overblown way that didn't seem real, and everything about them screamed that they hadn't a thought in their head their masters hadn't put there. They were broken, empty shells. Nothing aroused me more than a mind and heart to enhance a body's natural beauty.

I could vaguely hear my father and the vendor discussing the attributes of each slave set out for our appreciation, but none caught my eye. After a while I could tell my father was getting impatient with me and would soon demand I "just pick already." Hoping to delay the inevitable, I wandered through a dim archway set off to the side of the courtyard while the proprietor unknowingly provided a distraction.

Once past the bars of the open gate I could see a series of crude, threadbare sleeping pallets laid out in neat rows lining the walls of the long, narrow, windowless cobblestone room. Nearly fifty so-called beds covered the floor with just enough space between them to begrudgingly allow room to walk about the dormitory.

I could see the pallet nearest the gate was occupied by a slight figure tightly curled into a ball under a thin extremely worn blanket. Something about the figure called to me. I had the strongest urge to go sit on the stone floor and offer what comfort I could to the trembling person. I had no notion why, but I longed to reach out and provide comfort to this ball of humanity forced to live in such squalid conditions.

"Ahh, there you are, good young Master!" the vendor called out. "You've gotten a bit off the beaten path, I see. May I redirect you out onto the floor? I believe you were here to do a bit of shopping yet."

"Yes, yes," I muttered, disgruntled he had interrupted my exploration of the strange urges I was experiencing. I almost turned to go when instead I asked, "Who is that… sir?"

The vendor blanched. "Ahh, not anyone of consequence, good young Sir. I am sure we can find what you are looking for in our wide selection already on display," he said, turning his body to direct me through the door, his previous insipid expression once again pasted across his florid face.

"No. I want to see this individual… or I will leave without a selection… Sir."

Sensing the strength of my resolve, but still hesitant, the vendor took a moment to decide, staring intently at me the whole time. I didn't flinch.

"Very well," he ground out through clenched teeth and a patently false smile pasted onto his lips. "Brutus!" he bellowed. "Bring our newest addition out for inspection. Now." His fake sincerity made me wish I could wipe the expression off his fat face.

He gestured for us to rejoin my father through the archway and back into the much plusher courtyard. Willing to concede since I had gotten my way, I graciously led the way as he requested. Brutus brushed past me, and I heard a squeak and short scuffle behind us as I walked past the gate.

"Here should be far enough, young Master," he said snapping his fingers at Brutus, and gesturing toward a large empty water cask lying on its side nearby. I caught a flash of large wide chestnut brown eyes in very pleasing, though pale face before the whipping of her hair obscured them from my view as she thrashed in the tight grip of the extremely large guard who was man-handling her toward us. She was so small; it made my gut twist to see her treated so. I wondered at the strength of my feelings considering I had never laid eyes on this creature before and hadn't even been able to see her under the blanket a few moments ago.

Before I could protest, she was unceremoniously thrown over the cask. The guard continued to hold hands above her head, her hair a wild sable curtain shrouding her face, while he whispered furiously into her ear for a moment. She suddenly went still and lay docilely against the smooth wood.

The Vendor roughly kicked her legs apart before speaking, "One of my most recent acquisitions, and obviously as yet unbroken and untrained. I really was quite certain you wouldn't wish such a labor-intensive choice as your first property. I must warn you her stubborn streak and general willfulness is distressingly strong. While I have to admit she is beautiful, I am quite certain you will be happier with one of my more polished offerings. I can appreciate the allure of such a fresh and untried offering, but nothing can compare to the delights of a well-trained pleasure slave, I assure you! Come young Master, I will show you. You will not be disappointed," he proclaimed jovially and gestured away, expecting me to once again follow his direction.

"No, I wish to see her," I said, standing firm and crossing my arms.

With an almost imperceptible sigh, the vendor returned to the girl's side.

Sliding his hand between her legs he wrenched them wider. "Would you care to see for yourself her freshness?" Her breathing escalated perceptibly at his last question. Eager to ease her distress I stepped forward and placed my hand between her shoulder blades then caressed down her back, savoring the intense thrill I got from touching her as it shot through me like a tidal wave of sensation. I couldn't help but let my hand trail further down to slip over her buttock and thigh before sliding up the outside of her flank. She was just so soft.

She whimpered the most heart wrenching sound I had ever heard –distress and desire in equal parts. Just as I was about to respond the vendor raised his hand and viscously slammed his hand across her naked bottom. "Quiet!" he bellowed.

"Now I do admit she would be perfect for certain displays, as she marks up so nicely," he said referencing the angry red handprint becoming visible on her buttock.

Aghast, I gently, but firmly rested my hand against the area hoping to lessen the sting of the brutal attack as I throttled back the desire to plant my fist in his nose, but ultimately more concerned with her well being. A soft shuddering breath was her only response. In that instant I knew, not only could I not leave this fragile girl to be brutalized by this barbarian, but I couldn't imagine not being able to touch this amazingly soft skin every day for the rest of my life. The idea made the bottom fall out of my belly.

"I'll thank-you not to 'mark up' what is no longer yours," I growled.

"Father," I called out, "I have made my selection." I could see the surprise on his face as he walked toward us. "I will take this one or none at all."

I saw a brief moment of a shocked expression flit across his face before he took in the absolute resolution about me and settled into resignation. "Come, my new friend, walk with me," he said to the vendor, leading him away to begin the bargaining session to fulfill my demand. Part of me realized I had made the task much more difficult with the wording of my declaration, but I honestly didn't care. My father would have been happy to buy me the most expensive slave in the place so long as she suited his idea of valuable; he could deal with the cost of giving me what I actually wanted.

Allowing my hand one last caress back up the silky skin of her back, I finally looked up at the guard, "Let her go."

"Are you sure, young Master? This one is quite the spit fire when not restrained."

"Yes, I am quite certain. Let her go."

With a patronizing smile he released her hands, obviously expecting, and almost relishing, the idea of having to immediately pounce on her again to re-restrain her. His readiness was quickly replaced by surprise when the girl merely lay there, docile as a kitten.

I reached out and touched her shoulder. I could feel the rapid rhythm of her breathing as her shoulder pulsed under my hand.

"Will you rise?" I asked in a gentle voice.

I felt a slight tremor beneath my hand that caused a reciprocal clenching in my belly.

Slowly her head turned and one eye peeked at me through the canopy of her hair. The glimpse was enough to assure me this was no empty shell of a girl like the slaves I had seen on display at my arrival. I felt certain I had never before seen such soulful eyes.

Several moments later she finally answered me, nodding almost imperceptibly before her arms reached back on to the barrel to push herself up as I took a small step back. She quickly turned to sit on the barrel, warily looking up at me through her sable lashes. I thought my heart would stop beating in my chest it was such a beautiful sight. Her breasts were screened behind her hair, just barely visible, the mystery adding to their allure, further heightened by how her lovely locks highlighted the screening curls between her legs. I felt my eyes grow heavy with the direction my thoughts took with this vision before me. I saw her mouth drop partially open as another small tremor shook her body.

Suddenly desperate to distract myself, and ever more eager to leave this vile place, I asked, "Will you come with me?"

Her head snapped up, and she looked me full in the eye for the first time, her own eyes wide with shock. I merely nodded my confirmation and held out my hand to her. A new expression I had trouble identifying appeared on her face as she took my hand, and I led her in the direction my father had walked moments before. Feeling her warm hand in my own felt so right and was so intoxicating, I could not honestly say what exactly transpired in the moments between her taking my hand and our arrival at my father's chariot for the drive home.

I had never been so glad for the design of the chariot than I was that day. Motioning for my personal siren to mount the box of the chariot, I eagerly followed and stepped up close behind her to grip the front rail, effectively nestling her into my arms in the process. My father quickly mounted behind us and took the reins, whipping up the horses to begin the journey home across the city.

For the first moments she was stiff and tried to avoid touching me, but once we were underway and bumps in the road jostled us together several times, she melted back into my embrace, leaning back on me and resting her chin on her shoulder with her head nestled into my chest. It was sheer bliss.

The ride passed in a blur as I drank in her scent, reveled in the feeling of her against my body and the tantalizing sight of her body's motions as we traveled. The gods had most certainly blessed me when I found her.

When we arrived at home my mother was quick to greet us, and was the first to be enthusiastic about my choice.

"Oh, she's beautiful, darling. What are you going to call her, my son?"

Her question caught me off guard. It wasn't a question I had a ready answer for. Glancing down at my girl I found her suddenly staring at her feet, still as a statue.

"I'm not certain, Mother. Perhaps I'll know better tomorrow. For now I desire a bath for the both of us. Please have the servants prepare it for us in my chambers."

"Gladly, my son. Shall I send up a meal as well?"

"Yes, please. Thank-you, Mother."

Soon after we reached my chambers the servants arrived with large jars of steaming water, towels, scented soaps and oils and a bathing basin. Once they were dismissed and the door to my chamber closed, I led my diamond in the rough over to the waiting water and stripped my clothes off intent on bathing first her and then myself. With quiet commands I had her stand in the small tub before gently and methodically bathing her skin; eager to help her wash every speck of that vile place from her body. I also hoped it would help her to see I did not desire her as an object, but as a fellow human being. When I felt she was clean, but before she could chill in the cool afternoon air, I dried her with the same tender thoroughness I had used while washing her.

To say I was shocked to feel the tentative touch of a sponge on my back moments later once I had begun washing myself would be a dramatic understatement. As good as it felt to have her in my arms, feeling her willing touch was so much better. So I stood and allowed her to soap and rinse my body with methodical certainty, my sexual self displaying its gentle approval the entire time.

Soon I was clean, hand dried, and more certain than ever I would never tire of her touch should we live as long as the gods themselves.

The meal my mother had promised arrived in the meantime, so I took her hand and led her to the sleeping platform, and pushed the netting aside to climb in, sliding the tray ahead of us.

If I had thought she was beautiful before it was nothing compared to how she all but glowed now. Her skin held a new radiance after her bath, and made it difficult to keep my breathing from becoming shallow pants of longing. The sensation got worse as I realized her hair needed combing. Imagining running the damp strands though my fingers and gently pulling loose any snarls that might cause her discomfort filled my head with a momentary fog. I inhaled deeply hoping for even another cursory hint of the delicious fragrance I had breathed in from her locks earlier.

Jerking my errant thoughts back before they got ahead of me, I returned to the matter at hand.

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes," she whispered. My heart soared. It was the first time I had heard her voice, and though it was barely audible, it was just as entrancing as the rest of her had been so far. I couldn't wait to hear more.

"Do you care for grapes?"

"Yes," she repeated, just barely louder. My heart rejoiced again.

I fed her a grape from my fingers, entranced by the simple eroticism of her mouth, jaw and throat working in synchronicity to chew and swallow. She quietly offered me the same when she finished her own morsel. We ate the entire meal that way. It was divine.

As we ate I soaked in the depth of her soulful and mysterious eyes, so deep a shade of brown it was difficult to find such a basic word adequate to describe them. They were wide and intelligent in the extreme, effortlessly examining and analyzing her surroundings every second. The long lashes, wide set, and arching brow served merely to further enhance their beauty.

Her nose was small yet regal, a perfect counterpart to her full sensuous and innocent mouth. It was an interesting contrast, and one I never would have though could be used to describe such attributes, but it was true. Her lips invited me in with the promise of illicit paradise found, while maintaining an air of gentle purity. I was finding it increasingly difficult to maintain my dedication to not forcing her into anything she did not desire first.

Soon we were full and rather sleepy. I set the tray on the floor next to the platform and pulled her into my arms along with a light blanket over us.

I had never slept so well in my life as I did that night.

We spent the next several days in this manner learning each other's preferences and innocently enjoying life's simple pleasures together. I decided I wanted to call her Bella, because she was so beautiful, but I knew she must have had a name before. When I asked her if this was alright with her, she smiled a mysterious smile and said it would be fine. Our relationship still felt too new to pry into her past, and she didn't volunteer anything, so I left well enough alone. At this point I contented myself with merely having her near me every moment of the day. We were nearly always touching in some manner, her hand seeking my own out as often as the reverse. I generally perched her upon my lap whenever I sat and often caressed her hair.

But it was becoming more difficult to resist asking for more. Especially when she would climb across the bed on all fours ahead of me, I would nearly strangle on my suppressed groans. It nearly killed me to not reach out and just take what was technically mine, but I couldn't violate her trust in such a way. She was too precious to me.

This night as we settled into bed I took her into my arms, the same as always, but instead of settling in to sleep, Bella turned toward me, biting her lip and looking very uncertain.

"I want to try something. Will you permit me?" she asked in a soft voice, her beautiful eyes hidden behind her lashes as she toyed with a bit of the hair on my chest.

"Of course, Bella. You know I would deny you nothing."

I was more than pleased to see her sensuous lips curve up in a pleased expression, as her eyes flitted up to lock with my own. Her hands slipped between us to cup the sides of my face, "Hold still," she murmured. Almost painfully slowly she tipped her head back, while pulling mine gently toward her. My eyes most certainly demonstrated my surprise as her lips neared mine at last. I could feel my breath coming in short rapid pants, the anticipation of finally feeling her mouth against my own driving me wild inside. I held still as she had requested, not wanting to spook her when she was finally taking the initiative as I had hoped. I silently vowed I would only go as far and as fast as she wanted – even if it killed me.

When her lips met mine it was with the lightest of feathery touches. Our breath mingled, heating the air between us in a sultry delight for my tongue. I had loved her scent from the first time I experienced it, but to taste her thus was positively divine. Her eyes held mine firmly in their figurative grasp, liquid pools of humanity. The sensation of our lips touching so tantalizingly was rapidly becoming too much for my resolve. I permitted myself the barest movement, parting then closing my lips against hers in a gentle motion almost too light to qualify as true movement.

I was rewarded by a gust of sighing breath as her lids slid partially closed, and she finally pressed her lips fully against my own. The sensation was electric, like the air during a lightning storm and was incomparable to any other experience I had ever had. Her fingers clutched the sides of my face, pulling me closer still, a slightly frantic edge to the motion.

I tightened my grasp around her body, nestling us more firmly together as we lay on our sides. We kissed passionately, no longer worried about who led or followed - just breath and moist lips moving with abandon. I could do this for eternity and never tire. Though apparently she felt differently, for all too soon she broke away to look me full in the face again, wonder shining from every pore of her being, before launching a new assault on the tender skin of my neck.

I could not hold back a low groan of pleasure. She had stumbled upon my most sensitive areas and was trailing open-mouthed kisses toward my ear. I held myself in check, though praying she wouldn't stop. I trembled as an exhalation from her delicate nostrils flowed over the shell of my ear. The feathery stream shot straight to my belly, arousing me further. I held very still, eager to have her continue this slow, delicious torture.

I found myself biting my own lip, a grunt slipping out when her moist mouth covered the tender lobe of my ear with several firm nibbling motions of her lips before opening wider to pull the flesh inside and gently suck.

"Aahhh, gods!" I moaned.

I could feel her chest heaving against my own, and I was suddenly eager to have us bare of the thin sleeping shifts we wore. But I would not push. Instead I fisted the material in my hands, kneading her back in slow accompaniment to her movements. She released my ear with a tender pop, and commenced kissing down my neck toward where my collarbone became my shoulder. The hollowed skin there attracted her ministrations when my approving noises of pleasure and trembling limbs signaled to her my delight. I would not interrupt this thrilling exploration for anything, though I felt certain to explode with longing at any second.

We spent the rest of the night in slow, sensual exploration, our clothes after a time coming to rest on the floor. Not long after, our kisses became less urgent as our bodies slowed with fatigue. Our breathing finally mellowed until we slept lips against skin, breathing in the warm ambrosia of one another's clean scent, safely nestled in one another's arms until the sun pinked the eastern sky in the early hours or the morn. This was enough for now. Perhaps we would seek more when the sun crested the horizon, signaling the start of a whole new day of discovery.