Breeding a Lady, Breeding a Slave (Breeding Sex, BBW, Romance, Fantasy) (Erotic Tales of the Barbarian Empire) by Celia Demure Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Celia Demure
had two tiny little Kyssans on either side of him, being fitted with traveling-chains. One of the yellow-haired girls was red-faced and crying.
“Hush!” he barked. “When I get you home, I’ll bend you over and give you good reason for that. Save your cries for when I can relax and enjoy them.”
He turned to me, his pudgy face studying me as if I were a mad beggar on the street. “20,000 for a plump Knellian wench? My friend, I do hope you find some use for her.”
A slave-master called my name, then opened a side-gate.
There she was, my newly-bought beauty, clad in her rough robe again. She stepped forward slowly, her head low. Yet there was grace in her step—a strange surety—and she did not hesitate to walk towards me, accepting her fate, her new master.
“Look at me,” I commanded.
The face turned up, those wet grey eyes met mine, darted away as if looking at something in the distance, then locked on mine again …
She extended her arms, hands palm up, a surrendering gesture. Her full lips quivered a moment, then she spoke, a melodious and unmistakably feminine voice, trembling only slightly.
“I am… ahhh … yours,” she stated, the traditional submissive greeting of slave to a new master.
Her voice was heavily accented, and her cadence was odd, hesitating, as if she had memorized the words phonetically.
“Use me gently if you will, ahhh —Master.”
I stayed close by her side as she was fitted with traveling-chains. The slave-masters told me she would be delivered shortly, as they had a few others to escort to new owners in the high manors first.
I nodded, and locked eyes with her before heading home, only hoping that they would hurry, wanting to see her again—and touch her—as soon as I was able …
#
When she first arrived at my house, she was skittish and tense, flinched at my touch, turned her head ever so slightly as if to deflect my kiss.
She bore my attentions quietly and obediently, but she did not enjoy them, those grey eyes always wide in some state of mild panic that never left while my touch was upon her.
Something in those trembling eyes touched me, yet I tried to shrug it off. She was, after all, purchased for MY pleasure, to be used as a vessel for MY lust.
Why need I concern myself with her fears or discomfort?
I did not think myself to be an imposing man. I am tall, and keep my body firm and strong through swimming and running, but I am hardly a brute. My greying, close-cropped hair and dark, small eyes give me a somewhat severe appearance, I’ve been told … But numerous females had found those very features enticing in the past.
So why did she flinch at my touch? And… Ye God s … Why did I care so much what she did or thought!
I had my servant Azul purchase a padded collar for her neck, and a gilded chain. I myself fitted the collar on her, and secured it with its tiny golden key. As the lock clicked, she closed her eyes … then opened them slowly, those wet orbs open wide, staring at me.
She knew her fate was in my hands now…
Her cell was a small closet off of the hallway close to my bedroom, fitted with silken cushions and a high barred window through which the moon could shine brightly on many nights. I had used it for some rare meditations previously; now, it would be her home.
That night, I visited her cell. As I ran my hands over her voluptuous body, enjoying the softness of her skin, my touch wandered up across the exquisite pillow of her slightly curved belly, towards the proud breasts… each the size of a ripened sun-fruit, not too large but a firm handful, enticing and haughty somehow in the way they stood out. The areolae were a deep coral pink, and I remembered how her nipples had stood out in the chill of the auction…
I slid my finger around her right nipple, slowly, teasingly, and felt her shudder.
But this was a different kind of shudder, deeper… and perhaps—just perhaps— not borne of fear this time.
I felt the nipple
“Hush!” he barked. “When I get you home, I’ll bend you over and give you good reason for that. Save your cries for when I can relax and enjoy them.”
He turned to me, his pudgy face studying me as if I were a mad beggar on the street. “20,000 for a plump Knellian wench? My friend, I do hope you find some use for her.”
A slave-master called my name, then opened a side-gate.
There she was, my newly-bought beauty, clad in her rough robe again. She stepped forward slowly, her head low. Yet there was grace in her step—a strange surety—and she did not hesitate to walk towards me, accepting her fate, her new master.
“Look at me,” I commanded.
The face turned up, those wet grey eyes met mine, darted away as if looking at something in the distance, then locked on mine again …
She extended her arms, hands palm up, a surrendering gesture. Her full lips quivered a moment, then she spoke, a melodious and unmistakably feminine voice, trembling only slightly.
“I am… ahhh … yours,” she stated, the traditional submissive greeting of slave to a new master.
Her voice was heavily accented, and her cadence was odd, hesitating, as if she had memorized the words phonetically.
“Use me gently if you will, ahhh —Master.”
I stayed close by her side as she was fitted with traveling-chains. The slave-masters told me she would be delivered shortly, as they had a few others to escort to new owners in the high manors first.
I nodded, and locked eyes with her before heading home, only hoping that they would hurry, wanting to see her again—and touch her—as soon as I was able …
#
When she first arrived at my house, she was skittish and tense, flinched at my touch, turned her head ever so slightly as if to deflect my kiss.
She bore my attentions quietly and obediently, but she did not enjoy them, those grey eyes always wide in some state of mild panic that never left while my touch was upon her.
Something in those trembling eyes touched me, yet I tried to shrug it off. She was, after all, purchased for MY pleasure, to be used as a vessel for MY lust.
Why need I concern myself with her fears or discomfort?
I did not think myself to be an imposing man. I am tall, and keep my body firm and strong through swimming and running, but I am hardly a brute. My greying, close-cropped hair and dark, small eyes give me a somewhat severe appearance, I’ve been told … But numerous females had found those very features enticing in the past.
So why did she flinch at my touch? And… Ye God s … Why did I care so much what she did or thought!
I had my servant Azul purchase a padded collar for her neck, and a gilded chain. I myself fitted the collar on her, and secured it with its tiny golden key. As the lock clicked, she closed her eyes … then opened them slowly, those wet orbs open wide, staring at me.
She knew her fate was in my hands now…
Her cell was a small closet off of the hallway close to my bedroom, fitted with silken cushions and a high barred window through which the moon could shine brightly on many nights. I had used it for some rare meditations previously; now, it would be her home.
That night, I visited her cell. As I ran my hands over her voluptuous body, enjoying the softness of her skin, my touch wandered up across the exquisite pillow of her slightly curved belly, towards the proud breasts… each the size of a ripened sun-fruit, not too large but a firm handful, enticing and haughty somehow in the way they stood out. The areolae were a deep coral pink, and I remembered how her nipples had stood out in the chill of the auction…
I slid my finger around her right nipple, slowly, teasingly, and felt her shudder.
But this was a different kind of shudder, deeper… and perhaps—just perhaps— not borne of fear this time.
I felt the nipple
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