Why him, indeed. Ozorne lay in his bed. He'd sent Farrah back to the slave
quarters hours ago.
He sighed. She wasn't quite so much.fun as when she fought. Already, Ozorne began to regret his rash decision to make her submissive. It was nice to 'make love' to a girl, instead of 'rape,' but it wasn't like him to always do that.
He turned to stare out the window, unknowingly copying his slave's movements. Trouble was stirring, and he knew its cause, of course. But a man as proud as he would not admit to such. The Gods were up to something, he assumed.
Well, they'd have him to contend with. He'd have vengeance on Tortall if it were the last thing he did.
Her stomach heaved, and Farrah retched up the small breakfast she'd been able to scrounge. She had barely been able to make it to the chamber pot in the slave's quarters. It was still early morning, and the guards had only just come in to assign tasks. By the time she finished vomiting, the guard was irritatedly tapping his foot, waiting for her to finish. Farrah had the suspicion that Ozorne had ordered them to not harm her.
When she was done, she wiped her mouth and stood.
"'Ere, you'll be servin' meals t'day. And the Emper'r alone t'night."
Farrah nodded.
The day seemed to pass unbearably slow; Farrah's stomach was twisted all around the entire morning, and her breasts ached. She broke two glasses when she stumbled in the kitchens after somebody knocked into her, and she was sorely beaten for it - though not as badly, it seemed, as she would have been only months ago.
Finally, suppertime came, and she entered the kitchens again to receive the emperor's food. Varice was there again, though she seemed as if she was on her way out. She wasn't seen much in the kitchen lately. Normally, she would be running the place, making sure that everything went smoothly.
Farrah dismissed the thought, and went to Ozorne's room directly. As she had long ago, she knocked and waited, eyes cast down at her feet. This time, though, Ozorne's footsteps were heard.
When the door was opened, Varice stood there. For a moment, Farrah could only gape. The woman narrowed her eyes, and quickly, the slave looked at the floor again, murmuring, "my apologies, nobility."
The woman turned as Ozorne approached. He laid a hand on her shoulder, and motioned for Farrah to lay the tray on a far table. She did as he bid, not seeing him smirk silently, and bend to kiss Varice's neck. She smiled in her own, seductingly sweet way as he led her toward the bed.
Farrah took the items off the tray, and moved as if to leave, but Ozorne halted her.
"No." He pointed to a corner. "You will stay there for the night. Understand?" He and Varice moved to the bed, and almost unsurprisingly, began to take the other's clothes off. Farrah stared. This - this wouldn't be happening. It wasn't happening. She had to be dreaming.
They were laying on the bed, beginning the foreplay. Farrah stared, still, unaware of the look of hurt and horror on her face. Ozorne looked in her direction, and smirked, just once, before flicking the curtains closed around the bed.
Sounds of passion began to fill the room, and the tray clattered to the floor. Farrah leant against the closest wall, and slid down it's length to huddle in on herself. She tried to cover her ears, but Varice was a rather verbal lover.
Farrah slept not at all the night, and fled the moment she was allowed.
He sighed. She wasn't quite so much.fun as when she fought. Already, Ozorne began to regret his rash decision to make her submissive. It was nice to 'make love' to a girl, instead of 'rape,' but it wasn't like him to always do that.
He turned to stare out the window, unknowingly copying his slave's movements. Trouble was stirring, and he knew its cause, of course. But a man as proud as he would not admit to such. The Gods were up to something, he assumed.
Well, they'd have him to contend with. He'd have vengeance on Tortall if it were the last thing he did.
Her stomach heaved, and Farrah retched up the small breakfast she'd been able to scrounge. She had barely been able to make it to the chamber pot in the slave's quarters. It was still early morning, and the guards had only just come in to assign tasks. By the time she finished vomiting, the guard was irritatedly tapping his foot, waiting for her to finish. Farrah had the suspicion that Ozorne had ordered them to not harm her.
When she was done, she wiped her mouth and stood.
"'Ere, you'll be servin' meals t'day. And the Emper'r alone t'night."
Farrah nodded.
The day seemed to pass unbearably slow; Farrah's stomach was twisted all around the entire morning, and her breasts ached. She broke two glasses when she stumbled in the kitchens after somebody knocked into her, and she was sorely beaten for it - though not as badly, it seemed, as she would have been only months ago.
Finally, suppertime came, and she entered the kitchens again to receive the emperor's food. Varice was there again, though she seemed as if she was on her way out. She wasn't seen much in the kitchen lately. Normally, she would be running the place, making sure that everything went smoothly.
Farrah dismissed the thought, and went to Ozorne's room directly. As she had long ago, she knocked and waited, eyes cast down at her feet. This time, though, Ozorne's footsteps were heard.
When the door was opened, Varice stood there. For a moment, Farrah could only gape. The woman narrowed her eyes, and quickly, the slave looked at the floor again, murmuring, "my apologies, nobility."
The woman turned as Ozorne approached. He laid a hand on her shoulder, and motioned for Farrah to lay the tray on a far table. She did as he bid, not seeing him smirk silently, and bend to kiss Varice's neck. She smiled in her own, seductingly sweet way as he led her toward the bed.
Farrah took the items off the tray, and moved as if to leave, but Ozorne halted her.
"No." He pointed to a corner. "You will stay there for the night. Understand?" He and Varice moved to the bed, and almost unsurprisingly, began to take the other's clothes off. Farrah stared. This - this wouldn't be happening. It wasn't happening. She had to be dreaming.
They were laying on the bed, beginning the foreplay. Farrah stared, still, unaware of the look of hurt and horror on her face. Ozorne looked in her direction, and smirked, just once, before flicking the curtains closed around the bed.
Sounds of passion began to fill the room, and the tray clattered to the floor. Farrah leant against the closest wall, and slid down it's length to huddle in on herself. She tried to cover her ears, but Varice was a rather verbal lover.
Farrah slept not at all the night, and fled the moment she was allowed.