Rachael, Slave of Emarukistan Ch. 05

"You wouldn't take the risk," says the alderman, more confident in his position. "Bought men only stay bought until a higher offer comes along."

"Or an offer they can't refuse," replies my father. "Just like the one I'm going to offer you."

The alderman and my father settle their stand-off, demonstrating that negotiation can resolve disputes just as well as weapons. If only Leif hadn't been so wedded to his axe, he might still be alive today.

My own position is still unresolved. Dania and Phoebe are returned to Wadi-Halaf's cells. Zoe and I are allowed to wait in the harem since we are family. My mother and half-sisters welcome us with genuine joy. My father hasn't given any indication of when he will decide my fate, and with it, Zoe's and the other slaves' fates as well.

Finally free of our shackles, Zoe and I can take full advantage of each other's company. We've no idea whether we will be in a position to have sex with each other for much longer. Total privacy is impossible in the harem, but sexual games are commonplace and rarely attract any voyeurs. We find an area of the harem where we have a degree of privacy.

We play with each others tits before moving down between our legs. Neither of us need much stimulation and our juices are soon flowing in abundance. I take first turn at pushing my tongue into Zoe's cunt. I tease her clit with my finger as I delve deeper into her eager hole. Zoe is soon writhing helplessly as I devour her private parts. She doesn't make any attempt to hold back her orgasm, and my face is soon wet from her juices.

Then we swap positions and it's my turn to enjoy some wonderful sensations as Zoe demonstrates her skill at bringing a woman to her peak. Like Zoe, I don't make any effort to restrain my mounting orgasm, which practically explodes inside me. Some serious kissing and fondling follows as we relax on the cushions. It's an hour or so later before we decide to socialise with the other women in the harem.

"About time," laughs my half-sister Mia. "I thought you two were going to fuck yourselves senseless. Or perhaps you did. You took long enough."

"You're just jealous, Mia," I reply, good heartedly. "If you ask Zoe nicely, maybe she'll teach you a few tricks."

Zoe plays along with my banter and wraps her arms around Mia, giving her tits a good fondle. Mia's sexual preferences tend towards men, and she's never been keen on having sex with a woman. Of course, being a slave means she rarely gets any say in the matter. Mia's brief struggle is only half-hearted and I'm surprised when she reciprocates Zoe's playful assault on her body.

"Your father wants to see you, Rachael," says my mother as she enters our area of the harem.

I break away from our playful romp and straighten my hair and my loincloth. If I had time, I'd make use of the pool since I haven't had a good wash in days. I suppose I must smell dirty and sweaty, but that is generally accepted as normal for Emarukistani slaves. Perfumes and scents are the odours reserved for high class free women, and slaves who sole purpose in life is to entertain her master in his bed.

"Wait, Rachael," says my mother. "Go to the pool first and clean yourself up. You have a chance of elevating yourself above being a beast of burden. Don't waste the opportunity. But be quick, your father won't wait forever."

I don't really see the need to wash first, but my mother's advice has always been sound. I take a quick dive into the pool and give myself a quick once-over with a sponge. My hair needs the most attention as it has gathered all the dust and grime from the various derelict buildings, prisons and cells in which I've spent much of the last week. I finally manage to get my hair reasonably clean and I move to the side of the pool. Mia and Zoe are waiting there, and between them dry me with towels, and comb my hair into some form of order.

I find my father working in his private study. I wait patiently in the doorway for him to notice me. I was very young when I learned the lesson that no slave may enter his study without permission, nor are they to try and attract his attention while he is working in there. Fortunately he doesn't keep me waiting for more than a few minutes. I'm invited to sit on a chair, and almost unheard of privilege for a slave.

"You have proved yourself resourceful and trustworthy, not that I expect any less from a member of my family," says my father. "Your involvement with the northern barbarians is regrettable, but we cannot undo what has occurred and I must deal with the problems that have resulted. I am now left with a difficult choice between two solutions. I can take you back into my harem, and you can resume your former duties. Or I must confirm your manumission and grant you ownership of the Halls of Valhalla and all its assets. It seems that the law doesn't provide for any other course of action. While I don't doubt that you are capable of running a slave house, I wonder to myself whether that is what you truly want to do. You have lived all your life as a slave, and submission is second nature to you. I am therefore making you an offer to remain as a slave at Wadi-Halaf. Decline this offer, and I have no alternative but to confirm your manumission and let you depart with your property."

"My property?" I query.

"Yes. The title deed to the Halls of Valhalla, and your stock of slaves, who are currently cluttering up my cells."

"What about Zoe?" I ask.

"She's the property of the Halls of Valhalla, which makes her one of your slaves should you choose the path of freedom."

To a woman who has lived her life without ever enduring the stigma of being a slave, it must be hard to imagine why any slave woman would willingly choose to remain in slavery. But the choice my father provided wasn't an easy one for me to make. I've rarely worn any form of clothing beyond my loincloth, and wearing even the simple garment I'm expected to wear in public makes my skin itch. And the men I trade with never expect sex as part of any deal, even though they would find me willing enough. Fortunately I have Zoe to attend to my needs in that department, although there are times when a man's cock reaming my innards would be really welcome.

I'll never be seen as an equal among the other free women. The slave tattoo on my right shoulder blade may have been altered to record my manumission, but I'll always be seen as inferior by those who have never endured slavery. But it isn't something which bothers me, and as Dania and Phoebe have learned, freedom is easily lost if circumstances run against you.

When I accepted my father's offer of freedom, and ownership of the Halls of Valhalla, I was taking a huge gamble. Fortunately the regular caravans calling at Wadi-Halaf make it easy for me to acquire new slaves. A small commission paid to my father ensures I get first pick of what is on offer. My ability to speak several languages also gives me an advantage when it comes to training my newly acquired stock.

I offered Zoe her freedom, but she declined. Unlike me, she doesn't want the burden of decision making that goes with being a free woman. Nevertheless, she is my second-in-charge at the Halls of Valhalla. If the slave stock think it strange that their mistresses dress exactly like them, then nobody cares. I may have grown up in slavery, but I've no intention of being soft on the women whom I've bought. My life's experiences give me the knowledge of what a slave can endure, and what signs in her behaviour need remedial action. Selling well trained slaves can only improve the reputation of the Halls of Valhalla, increasing my profit far beyond what Leif and Sigmund ever achieved.

I suppose marriage and babies will eventually be expected of me. Not only by my father, who now shows far more interest in his daughter's activities, but by the many young men who want to get their cocks between my legs. Even in public, my attire is always minimal and there's plenty of flesh on display. I simply can't get used to wearing clothes. Surprisingly, a few young women copy my minimalistic style of clothing, which is more practical in the sweltering heat of the city than the heavy robes that are normally worn.

As for Dania and Phoebe, they are now slaves in my father's household. I don't ask about their duties, but I know my father would take great pleasure in regularly fucking the daughters of his despised predecessor as warlord.

[The end]