New Purchase

Irritation prickled Desmona along with the heat of the day. Dust swirled in the air coating her boots and russet suede pants and vest making them a dull grayish tan color. She much preferred a private auction to the public block, but occasionally a gem could be found among the stock presented. She stood with arms crossed, her weight shifted to one leg, a comfortable if somewhat unwelcoming pose. Not that it mattered, she wasn’t here to socialize, she was here for business. She still lamented that she had to be here at all, but when one wanted something in particular, something special, it was best seen to yourself. Finding what she wanted was probably not going to be easy.

She had been very impressed with the way the stable was run at Double Moon castle, other then one minor mishap which had not been repeated. It would have been simpler to purchase cole, but he was not for sale. She stood in the jostling crowd under an angry sun and watched the platform at it’s center. A male slave stood with hands lashed behind his back. The bonds were a rule, but only occasionally were they actually necessary. Most of the slaves being brought out now were used to there lot, most even welcoming it, these were the pleasure slaves… and talk about eye candy. The one being auctioned at the moment was quite tall, built heavily, the muscles of his chest were thick slabs and his arms bulged at the biceps. Certainly a fine specimen, and standing so proudly too. He flexed to show himself to best advantage and his price tripled as three eager hands went up one after the other.

Desmona rolled her eyes. Yes, he looked yummy, but he didn’t have what she wanted, and she knew it even from this distance. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, making the man behind her loose his train of thought completely as he watched the roll of her hips sheathed in tight leather.

She watched the slave go for what she thought a ridicules price and waited as the next was brought out. Another one very pleasing tolook at, the auctioneer hinted at ‘special’ talents and a murmur went through the crowd, just as he had expected it would. Desmona sighed, he was not the one she wanted either. He was sold as quickly as the one before and another was brought up for bid. And so it went for the better part of an hour, Desmona dismissing one after the other as unsuitable. By the time the auctioneer announced they had finished with the pleasure slaves and would now bring out the manual laborers and house servants she was vexed that she had not found a single one to her liking. She decided to go and started making her way through the crowd.

Just as she reached the edge of the crowd something caught her eye and she looked back. The male on the platform was being sold as a field hand. He was young, perhaps only a few summers older then herself. He had dark brown hair touched here and there with streaks of blond from working outside. His build was well defined, hard packed chest, stomach and arms, well muscled legs, but not too heavy. He was not overly tall, perhaps just a hair shy of six foot. His body was built every bit as nicely as some of the pleasure slaves just viewed, except his was not smooth shaven and slicked with oil.

One corner of her mouth curled upward. She could change that, she

thought. Yes, this one might do. She started back to the platform, ignoring the glares she received for not making way for anyone.

When she reached the platform she put her hands on her hips and took

another hard look at the man standing there with hands bound behind his

back, naked before this crowd, head and eyes both lowered. There was one thing she wanted to know before she made her purchase. “I require a closer look at the property offered.” She called to the auctioneer. The auctioneer paused and signaled one of his aids who offered her a hand up. Slaves were not allowed off the platform unless they were sold or heading back to the holding pens. A tittering went through the crowd as Desmona stepped up on the platform and walked over to the bound man. These more personal examinations could be the source of much amusement at times, and they wondered just what she wanted a closer look at.

She was certain some in the crowd were disappointed when she only lifted his head, using a handful of his hair to do so. She did not need to command him to look at her, he did so on his own, and she knew then that this would be the one she would take today. Soulful brown eyes looked at her, eyes so dark they were almost black, and tinged with an emotion kept under tight reign. What emotion he was controlling she wasn’t quiet sure, anger maybe? Or perhaps fear? Embarrassment? Some combination of these? It did not matter. She let go of his hair and he immediately, if somewhat slowly, lowered his head.

She gave the auctioneer her bid as she stepped off the platform and the

bidding began once again, but didn’t last long. She made her purchase and her new acquisition was led off the platform toward her. She tossed the auctioneer’s aid a small sack of coins. The man caught it deftly and tucked it away, pulling out a collar and leash from his belt. Holding the collar out to her with one hand and the slaves elbow with the other he asked if she wanted his hands unbound.

Desmona took the collar and nodded. He severed the leather thong binding the slaves hands and quickly walked away back to the platform. It seemed a bubble of silence, or at least quiet, settled around the Lady with her new slave. Desmona regarded him for a few more moments, noted he neither moved nor spoke. Which could mean several things, it could mean he was well trained or it could just mean he was playing it safe for the time being.

She finally broke the silence, moving the collar and leash into his line of sight with a slight movement of her hand she said “Do you need this, or will you follow?” She let no hint of emotion color her voice, no suggestion that she might be amused, bored, or anything else.

"I will follow." he replied, his voice neutral and his gaze still lowered. He had noticed earlier, when she had lifted his head, that she was very beautiful with honey colored hair, sea green eyes and full generous lips. Beauty did not automatically make one kind though, he knew. He would be careful as he went, and right now he was feeling grateful to be out of the nightmare that was the slave pit. He risked a request. "If the lady would be so kind, I could use some clothes."

Desmona allowed a slight smile to cross her lips. So, it was the latter

then, he was not well trained but being cautious. For some inexplicable

reason this pleased her. “Look at me,” She spoke softly with no harshness in her tone, and continued when he did so. “There are a few things that you must learn very quickly if you are going to survive your new life for any length of

time…boy.” The slight stiffening of his shoulders at the word ‘boy’ let her know just how recently he had found himself in this situation. Although dirty and bruised he wasn’t underweight, and had no clue yet how to even address her properly. She guessed he had found himself on the loosing end of a battle and put in chains less then a fortnight ago, and been in the pit less the a week.

She could feel her toes fairly tingle with anticipation, not to mention a few other places. She continued in the same mater of fact tone, “The first is how to address me, the words ‘my lady’ will hence forth be at the beginning or end of your sentences. The second is that from this point on I alone will determine what you ‘could use’….” Her smile widened. “Right now clothing is a luxury you are not permitted.” She paused, let her words sink in and gave him sometime to start feeling indigent.

When he looked about ready to say something she caught his eyes and held them, something she rarely allowed a male of hers to do. In the same soft tone she continued, “You will find that I know many of your thoughts before you yourself do, right now you are humiliated and feel you have been treated unfairly, this leads you to anger.” She paused again and he opened his mouth to speak. “Do not speak.” She stated flatly and he closed his mouth silently, a good sign. “Whatever circumstance had brought you to this point in your life you can believe in one thing, you stand here now at a crossroad.

“You may choose the kind of life you will now lead. You can choose to trust me, serve me willingly, and learn how best to please me… or you can cling to your resentment and see how far that gets you.” She wondered briefly if pride would make him choose, she deliberately did not tell him that his decision would also determine if he would walk away with her, or be returned immediately to the auction block.

He felt himself flush with anger and resentment at her words. He fought

with his pride and somehow managed to keep his mouth shut. She denied him clothes and thus continued to add to his humiliation and yet had the gall to ask him to trust her? He lowered his eyes and remained silent. For now.

Hmmm, he still had much pride then, but could control it, which only meant he was not stupid. Unfortunately that was not enough, his silence was answer enough. With a sigh of regret she signaled to the handler to return. “That is truly too bad, I had thought you a very good choice, I was mistaken.” She let the regret color her voice. Her disappointment was keen. However rough he was around the edges she had thought beneath he was a gem, and she had looked forward to bringing that gem forth.

The handler stopped by her side. “My Lady?”

“I have changed my mind about this one. Take him back to the block…”

The slaves head snapped up, those dark as sin eyes wide with shock...

She watched with a sort of detached fascination as he fought some inner

battle to overcome that which held his tongue. “My Lady… please…” He started, but wasn’t quite sure what to ask for. She had given him a choice, he had chosen to let his resentment control him. But the alternative… how could he trust her? She was a stranger, how could he serve her willingly? Admit defeat, that he truly was the slave they had made him become? His word meant something to him still, if he agreed to her terms he would be bound by it.

He knew also they would not immediately put him back on the block this day, which meant back to the pen and all it’s indignities, along with being under the thumb of the handlers who would be none to pleased to have him back. That was a horrible thought, but was not returning to that horror worth giving up his hope for freedom? He stared at her intently, searching those lovely green eyes for something…. Something he could cling to. The handler had seized his arms, roughly pulling them behind his back. She did not look away from him, and he thought he had never seen such beauty, or such sadness. Something in that sadness touched him, called to him, screamed at him not to be a fool.

“My Lady…” He swallowed in a suddenly dry throat. “You were not mistaken. I would choose to serve you willingly, if you will still have me.” It was the closest he had ever come to pleading, and he found it not nearly as hard as he thought it would be.

Desmona wavered with indecision, he would take much work, but he was not impossible. The question was, did she think he was worth it? The handler waited patiently, raised a brow at her questioningly. Desmona shrugged, dropped the collar and leash into his hands and sent him back on his way with a gesture. She turned on her heel and without another word led the way through the crowd, her new purchase following behind.

~*~*~

When Desmona reached her mount she paused to dig around in the saddlebag for a moment. She pulled out a clean linen shirt and trousers and handed them to him. He stared at her for a moment before remembering he wasn’t supposed to, the looked down and began putting the clothes on. “Do you have a name boy?” she asked.

"Jason, my lady." he replied keeping his eyes down and hurriedly dressing himself. ~Boy?~ he thought to himself again feeling some irritation. She couldn't be that much older than he was, in fact she looked younger.

She watched him dress with some amusement, she never did understand why a few pieces of cloth between someone’s skin and the world should make them feel less vulnerable. She also noted the carefully added 'my lady', and the fact that although he had agreed to serve her willingly he wasn’t going to somehow become perfectly trained stock overnight. She found it both amusing and refreshing that he couldn’t hide his emotions, didn’t really know how to behave in a servile manner. She couldn’t help needling him. "Perhaps it was not simply because of a lack of training that you were being sold as a field hand, but a lack of manners as well?" She mused aloud.

Jason's dark eyes flashed back up to her face. Did she take pleasure in

taunting him? "I'm afraid I don't fully understand you my lady. I am well qualified to be a field hand. I know how to farm as well as to ride and care for horses."

Desmona smirked. “No doubt. But the lack of training that I referred to

was… in other areas, and your lack of manners was just displayed, again.” Her eyes flicked over his now clothed body. “As much a I prefer you without a stitch on I overlooked my desire for yours, and yet I have not heard a word of gratitude.” The smirk turned into a smile, but one that chilled rather then warmed the heart. “I’ll forgive your lapse this time, because I can understand the strain you have been though today, but don’t expect I will always be this magnanimous.”

She turned away from him and adjusted the girth on the saddle. The high

spirited thoroughbred danced a bit with anticipation to be away from the noise and crowds of the city. Desmona swung easily into the saddle and extended a hand toward him so he could mount behind her.

He felt suitably chastised, well trained or not he did have manners enough to know he should have thanked her. "I apologize for my lack of manners my lady, and I do appreciate your generosity, both for the clothing and your understanding. I will do better in remembering my manners.” He took her offered hand and lifted his foot to stirrup, swinging up behind her in a fluid motion. He was uncertain of how to sit correctly behind her, and would have been uncertain of how to ride behind any woman, but being a slave was he allowed to place his hands on her? Where was he to hold onto?

His unvoiced questions became moot when she immediately kicked the horse to a canter. It was either hang on to her or go flying as the powerful animal put his ears back and took off. Self preservation won and Jason wrapped his arms around her as the ground sped by at an alarming rate. After a while the horses initial burst of speed settled into a fast but regular gate and he relaxed a bit, leaning back some and dropping his hands to her waist, they were still moving to fast for him to feel comfortable letting go entirely. He supposed she would have already corrected him if he wasn’t supposed to touch her.

At this proximity he couldn’t help noticing other things about her. Her scent was a mingling of flowers and warm skin, and he could feel the tightness of slender muscles where their bodies touched as the horses gate brought them together. She had a pleasing figure and despite himself was thinking of her in terms he knew he shouldn't be. He tried to stop thinking, to blank his mind, but that was a mistake. It left him open to feel more acutely the places where their bodies touched.

He noticed the way her waist fit in the circle of his hands, and that the vest she word had slid up slightly, leaving a thin gap between it's bottom and the top of her pants. His finger had slid into that space and lay against the bare skin of her belly. Just that little bit of skin felt achingly soft to him. He had a sudden and almost uncontrollable urge to slide the rest of his hand against the smoothness taut belly, his fingers twitched and he had a vivid picture come to his mind of doing just that, his hands sliding over the soft skin of her torso upwards to cup her breasts.

Jason felt his manhood stir and quickly tried to shut the image out. He was mortified to be thinking such thoughts. She owned him, he couldn’t forget that, and with his own will he had agreed to serve her. She was his liege now, and it was not a wise thing to desire the one that had such power over him.

He tried to hold on to this, tried not to feel the way the horses strides moved their bodies together, the way his thighs touched her's, or the way his groin kept being pressed into the soft curve of her buttocks. He clamped down on a groan as the stir he'd felt a moment before became a stiffening.

It seemed the more he tried to control his body’s reactions the less control he had, and he became very aware that if he couldn't some how back away from her like now there was no way she would not notice his arousal. There was no way to do so though, the saddle wouldn't allow it, his face turned almost as warm as the heat in is groin, she must have noticed by now. A tight knot of anxiety formed in his belly, what if she was offended? What if she was disgusted? Or worse, angry? She owned his body and could do anything she wanted to it, punish him in anyway she saw fit.

These thoughts should have worked like ice water on him, but neither his anger, embarrassment, nor fear was doing anything to make his erection any less. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will himself down. A moment later the horses gate changed and he opened his eyes to see they'd rounded a bend and a castle loomed before them.

"This is not my home," She told him over her shoulder, in case he was

wondering. "We will be staying as guests. The Ladies that own the castle have graciously granted me permission to use a few members of their staff for your training." As she finished saying this they had trotted around to the back of the castle and a stable boy ran up.

Jason dismounted as soon as the horse came to a halt, his embarrassment

still high and his member still almost painfully hard, he hoped that the pants he wore were loose enough to hide his state somewhat.

Desmona swung down after him and shooed the stable lad away. "I'll take him in myself." She said. Actually she just wanted to introduce Jason to Cole, since he would have part in his training. She said nothing to Jason to further his embarrassment but also nothing to alleviate his fears, his arousal pleased her and amused her, she sorely wanted to tease him about it but restrained herself. Right now his emotions were to volatile, he was too insecure and knew too little about what she wanted and expected from him.

Now was not the time to alienate him, now was the time to build his trust. As she led the horse into the stable she noticed that he followed without being told and this also pleased her.

Cole poked his head from a stall as he heard the sound of shod hooves on the cobbles, he stepped into the aisle when he saw who it was. He stood properly, with his feet shoulder width apart, his head bowed slightly, and hands lightly clasped behind his back. "Good afternoon M'lady, would you like me to take the stallion?"

Desmona lightly tossed the reins in his general direction and cole deftly caught them before they dropped. Cole nodded in Jasons direction. "I see your trip to the auction was successful M'lady, is this the one you wanted trained in the running of a stable then?"

Desmona smiled a rather wicked looking smile. "Among other things, yes. His name is Jason, I'll will have him sent out to you tomorrow morning."

"Very well M'lady." Cole said. He looked up then, to take Jason's measure. He was not as well built as he thought Lady Desmona's choice would be, but he seemed strong and healthy, in fact he reminded cole much of himself when he was that age. Perhaps a few years of lugging hay bales would broaden his shoulders and put some more thickness in his arms. The thought made him smile, a genuinely friendly expression. "Welcome Jason, I will see you in the morning."