"FRESH VIRGINS FROM FAR AWAY LANDS!" says the sign, written in all jaunty letters. Me mistress, Morgana, and I have come to the trade for a new slave girl. Since I've been taken by her son, Mordred, to bare his sons, she needs a new girl to entertain her needs. Mistress hands me four quid and points to the stage. "That one, Dianna, bid on her for me," she pets me and makes the front of me dress damp, "please?" she breaths the last part hotly in me ear, pats me ass, and I jump up to do her bidding. I'm a good girl.
I find the one she'd pointed at, a small one, young. Me mistress likes them young. This one she's chosen is maybe twelve, naked, with the tiny beginnings of breasts. She's black as charcoal, even her nipples. There is no hair on her maidenhood, so maybe she's younger than twelve. Yes, this one is perfect for mistress. I place my four quid before the auctioneer, as I am not allowed to speak to him, I'm only a slave me self. He takes my money and nods to his partner. Her chain is placed in my hand and she is mine. She is Morgana's.
Morgana has named the girl Judith, and I've been allowed to play with her first. I clean under her tiny breasts with a moist cloth and sudsy water. She looks scared, but I try to reassure her. I don't think me condition is what one would call reassuring, though. My breasts are heavy and ache with the milk that will feed the child within me, my belly expanded so that the skin has broken from stretching.
"Do not fear me, child Judith," I clean her maidenhood, and she cringes. "You are too young for the mistress to find the river of lust in your loins. No, you shall be her pet until your first new moon blood."
The child stops her shaking, but does not stop staring at me with eyes so deep and black like wells of ink. I continue my speech, "You are to be called Judith, and you are to call me Diana. You have another name, your secret name, but that is yours alone. The mistress will not be bothered with it. If, within a month or so, I find myself to like you, I will reveal my secret name, so that you may use it when we lie together." At that, the girl's eyes grow to the size of pomegranates. I laugh, "What did you think would be your purpose here, girl? You are for the entertainment of my mistress, as well as myself." I look into her watery inkwell eyes. "Do you not speak, child?"
Judith gulps, "I did not know I was allowed." Her voice is thick, but despite this, still sweet and girlish. She has an accent I cannot place, but it is smooth and melodic. "Where are you from?" she asks of me.
"Italy, I think, or Greece; I cannot remember," I respond, wiping her back.
"I am from what they call Egypt, but even there I was a slave. My mother was from…Ethiopia, I think," as she speaks, she becomes more comfortable with me, no longer flinching to my touch.