Slave Amira Ch. 02

Amira shifted uncomfortably on the guest divan, determined not to look as attentive to her surroundings as she actually was.

It was hard not to, of course, at a Remosan slaver lord's palace celebration. Calling the party around her a sequence of unfamiliar sights, scents and customs would be an understatement.

Attending such a banquet of debauchery as the firstborn daughter of House Fire-Blood, no less. Fortunately, to most of the strangers in attendance, she was little more than a traveler from outside the country.

Although not so to the lord of this walled palace complex in the Remosan borderlands. Mithras had been insistent that she meet this Lord Therion under her real name and identity, describing the host as a trusted friend of his.

Therion had generously provided accommodations to the travelers under the assumption the Miraeian noble who came with Mithras was a mere adventurer, albeit one daring enough to travel to a nation in which her noble house was known for the wrong reasons. Perhaps a mere lover of Mithras, Therion might've assumed- even as Duke Jordanes planned on marrying his daughter to the Miraeian Baron Tabelek in less than a month. News of Mirae even traveled to this borderland of Remos, Amira had found out when her host mentioned it upon her arrival.

The lover alibi that Amira was fine with for others to assume. Her real intentions would have merited much more attention from the slaver lord.

Amira was traveling north from the Remosan borderlands with the merchant and adventurer Mithras for more than mere tourism. Amira had business in Remos City, she'd planned with Mithras. At the headquarters of the Slaver's Guild.

Specifically, a consignment contract. One which would place her in the Guild's custody, Mithras has explained. One which ensured she'd be sold at the Great Slave Markets.

A contract that ensured she'd become a pleasure slave. As Lady Amira had imagined and dreamed of in years of secret, shameful fantasies.

The first inklings of such a reality set in when she'd crossed into Remos with Mithras. Abandoning a family lake residence at Lake Xenthys at sunrise, she'd passed a border crossing with Mithras that even her relatives didn't know of.

"Too late to turn back," she'd rationalized with herself as she wrestled with her own uncertainty. Mithras understandably wouldn't be happy to lose his commission on such a consignment contract, which he'd assured her would be quite lucrative for the slavers.

Just nine days of doubt and uncertainty, she'd told herself. By that time she'd have signed her agreement with the slavers; she'd have her own auction to concern herself with. Not her decision, which at that point would be a privilege she'd have renounced. Just the auction; and then, a Master to serve, please and entertain after that. A Master who would make her a perfect slave slut, of course, just as Remosan slave training specified.

Speaking of perfect slave sluts, the women that had performed this evening on Therion's dance stage left no doubt about what it had meant to be one. Amira had seen a pleasure slave for the first time when she arrived at the palace vestibule, but seeing one perform was entirely different. These women were sensual, exotic, flowing beings of lust, dancing and writhing against a steel pole to the satisfaction and entertainment of Therion's banquet guests.

Even watching for more than seven seconds overwhelmed Amira, even as the way these women moved filled her with wonder and excitement. Her eyes peeking curiously and pensively at these women soon enough after looking away, thoughts of uncertainty overwhelming her as she considered that she was looking at... her future.

Gods, this outwardly modest Miraeian noblewoman couldn't imagine herself performing so lewdly and sexually before a crowd of perhaps thirty people with such talent. Running her bare, pierced tits over a dance pole, wearing little more than panties and slutty decorations, a shining slave collar identifying her as a Master's pet.

Capability was one thing, the abstract idea was another. Amira was keen enough to realize that her future Master would want her to perform in slave's dance, especially in a context where he could show off his collared foreign nobility. She very well could be beginning her dance training by the end of the month, a thought that made her cross her legs with nervousness.

Still a free woman for now, Amira takes a gold goblet of wine from an attending slavegirl as she sits on the divan. Inspecting the mannerisms of the slave women pensively - if anything, Therion's company would expect a woman of Mirae to be surprised and bewildered by her surroundings. It was okay to stare, a bit.

A redheaded pet bows, her breath thick with exertion and tiredness as she finishes a dance set. The crowd applauds and cheers as she allows herself a smile, pleased with this reaction. Maybe this woman enjoyed being a pleasure slave, just like Amira hoped and believed that she would.

"Quite talented, right?" Someone's noticed that Amira is interested in the woman's dance, and she smiles politely as Lord Therion joins his guest on the central divan, a blonde pleasure slave in his grasp. The scantily clad woman joins Therion on the seat on her knees, the prospect of crawling against her Master natural to her.

"She's... very talented." Amira isn't so defensive and concerned with secrecy as to deny the reality of the slave's performance. Although she speaks quietly, as a polite guest might in the home of a powerful lord. "She's a very talented dancer."

If this slaver lord only knew of Amira's attraction to slave custom, perhaps he'd order her stripped and chained before his very eyes, Amira thought. Yet, she was still a free woman, and nobility, even - the barbarian had treated her respectfully thus far in her stay in his palace.

Perhaps he'd happen to be in Remos City the day that Amira was to be sold, she considered. She'd be brought back to the borderlands for training and instruction in this very palace, if he decided to purchase her. Therion might make a... fitting Master, Amira considered, if he really was wealthy enough to afford her.

The blonde slave at Therion's side pays her no mind. Instead touching Master's chest in unyielding affection and servitude, tits teasing his shoulder in a ploy for attention.

"One of my most well-trained dancers, no doubt." Therion says of his performer.

"Perhaps... you'd like to see more? She'll be available tonight. I'm sure you'd be further impressed with her talents in a more private setting."

Amira wasn't so nervous as to immediately decline the offer. Of course, the private company of a slave - enjoying the intimate touch of another woman, even - would've been viewed as grossly inappropriate in her homeland, but Amira wasn't in Remos to indulge father's rules for her. Not in the slightest.

"I... Yes, I would." Even Therion seems taken aback, surprised that his foreign guest would permit herself to indulge in the private companionship of one of his slaves. Her answer securing curious glances from the blonde, who has earned the touching pets of her Master's hand at this point. "I'd like her... companionship, if you'd be so kind as to permit it, my lord."

"Of course, in return for the presence of an unexpected but honored guest." Therion politely states. "She'll be sent to your guest chambers, my lady.

Soon whispering to his blonde - she'd notify Therion's harem mistress that the redheaded dancer was to report to Amira's private guest bedroom, when Master's guest was ready for her.

*Two hours later*

The raucous festivities of Therion's palace celebration had faded after midnight; the mead and wine his servants had offered more than sufficient to lull the most hardy guests into a stupor.

Not Amira. In her hospitable guest bedroom on the first floor of Therion's palace, she awaited companionship. The redheaded slave the lord of the palace had offered her was yet to arrive; perhaps distracted from Amira with one of the many household servant tasks a pleasure slave could expect to perform on a night her Master hosted a banquet.

The subtle murmur of a guest or guard enjoying a woman down the hallway is soon followed by the click of heels that Amira had heard from some of the dancers during Therion's party. The Miraeian noble combed over her dark hair making sure her purple nightgown fit properly on her body.

This was her chance to talk to a pleasure slave, free from the judgements of strangers or the requirements of her own Master. She'd read all the material written by collared women she could safely obtain in her homeland, but never so much as spoken to one who had the experience of serving as a pleasure slave, albeit in brief interactions in the previous two days.

A soft knock on the door signals Amira's companionship, and she invites her assigned slave inside. "Come in," she beckons, the red-haired slavegirl she'd watched perform this evening entering without loudly closing the door behind her.

The girl still wore the see-through sheen top she wore during her dance performance; her hair a bit unkempt after her energetic set, her face flushed from the night's exertions, excitements, and labors. Perhaps Therion's harem mistress had permitted her a glass of wine after her dance.

"Lady Amira," the redhead bows respectfully, glancing at her Master's guest to ensure she had entered the right guest bedroom, speaking slightly above a whisper. "Master Therion has made this slave available for your companionship and pleasure this evening."

"To serve, please and entertain." Amira restrains a smile as she recognized a phrase that slaves were taught to embody, from her own studies of Remosan culture. "How might this slave satisfy you?"

Amira evaluates the voluptuous slave's attractive body, now even closer than her performance on the dance stage. A slave, at her command? She'd be required to obey a Master's desires soon enough, after arriving in Remos City; it wouldn't hurt to try her hand at overseeing a slave a bit tonight. While she was still a free woman.

"To your knees, slave. And crawl to me. Like you did on the dance floor."

"Yes, honored mistress." The woman descends quietly and agilely to her hands and knees. Well versed in crawling from years of pleasure slavery, she comes as a curious feline to Amira's guest bed; the spark on her eyes suggesting a readiness to suck on Amira's sensitive clit; to lick her nipples; to show a haughty foreigner how Remosans and their slaves were advanced in the ways of pleasure.

Her makeup flawless; her pretty face eager to please Master's attractive female guest as she arrived before Amira, kneeling as a patient kitten to await the freewoman's desires. The noblewoman admires her features, her exciting slave clothing, most of all, the fine silver slave collar that decorated her neck. Knowing that in weeks she'd realize well just how it felt; wearing one of her own. Rather, one belonging to her Master; just as this redheaded pleasure slave belonged to Therion.

The Miraeian woman summoning the slave onto her bed with a tap of its fabrics. Content to treat her as a pet; as the way she'd imagined she'd be treated.

The redheaded girl crawls gracefully to join Amira, her hands helping themselves to light touches of her still-clothed body. Making her nervous, even though she didn't care to show it; the prospect of pleasures with another woman was one Amira knew nothing of. Or pleasures with another at all, for that matter. Mithras would advertise a virgin noblewoman to the slavers who would sell her.

"How long have you... been a slave?" Amira questions, returning only light touches with the redheaded woman, still hot and flustered from an evening of dance and servant duties.

She's not so expectant of sexual pleasures that the question takes her completely off guard.

"How long? I've been a pleasure slave for five years." She states openly. Perhaps sensing that her assigned guest wanted to know a bit more about her, even if she didn't grasp the true reason why.

"The first two years, as a brothel slave in Remos City." Her voice more conversational than whispering.

"Then purchased for Master Therion's harem, three years ago."

Amira nods, perhaps slightly intimidated by the woman's experience. She understood what it meant to be a pleasure slave, doubtlessly.

"Do you... like it? All of this. Being a pet. Your Master."

The woman smiles at her guest's curiosity, perhaps not expecting her interest in her to be so... specific.

"Yes I do, actually." She asserts as a matter of fact, perhaps with a touch of defensiveness to the idea that she was a mere victim of force.

"Master Therion is very skilled in training and slave customs." Her hand daring to reach up Amira's chest, toying with her tit through her dress.

"He knows how to treat a woman... properly." A darker tone of seduction present once more in her voice.

Only a little murmur escapes Amira's pursed lips as the slave pulls the shoulder strap of her dress down, soon toying and touching with her exposed tit- a pinch of her hard nipple only making her moan a little bit louder.

"Why do you ask?" The slave questions Amira quickly- content to take a more proactive role with her decidedly curious foreign noblewoman guest. "Don't think I didn't see you admiring my dance, foreigner."

"Perhaps wishing you could dance with such skill on a stage?" The redhead looking into her nervous assigned guest as she cups and plays with her tit.

"Perhaps... Wishing you could show all of your talent, your skill, and your hard work in the art of Slave's Dance to your Master?"

A breathy gasp comes from Amira's lips, a chill running down her spine as the redheaded slave aptly finds her out.

She had promised Mithras that she'd obey complete secrecy while a guest in Therion's palace. Not that she had any intentions of divulging her intentions in this land of slavers; anyway. But this redheaded slave had read her like a book in minutes; it seemed; it deemed all too appropriate to honor her keen intuition.

"Yes." Amira whispers, quietly, yet with a touch of confidence.

"I... really liked your dance, and there's a... reason why it spoke to me." Her touch of her tit fading.

"I'm supposed to sign a consignment contract in Remos City next week." Her boldness even spurs surprise and fire in the redheaded slave's eyes, soon grinning deviously.

"At the slaver's castle?" A place that the redhead was familiar with, even though it'd been years. Amira nods in confirmation.

"Makes sense. Traveling alone with that slave merchant? He'll make sure you're well taken care of, foreigner."

"And you're... nobility, right?" From Mirae?" Amira wasn't in Remos to dwell on her former life, but she didn't intend to obfuscate it. She nods again, the redhead's hands creeping up her legs and around her abdomen.

"Gods, a very wealthy Master is going to absolutely break you." Perhaps aware that her words could terrify Therion's adventurous guest, the redhead clarifies.

"But you should absolutely do it." She crawls forward slightly- more content to treat Amira more like a pleasure slave than one of Master's noble guests. The redhead leans in, kissing and suckling on her perk, hard nipple with finesse that makes the inexperienced noble moan shamefully. Still fresh to pleasures, this one was.

"If my dance spoke to you, you won't regret it. You might even become a fine slave, one day, if you submit to your training." A skilled touch of Amira's nightgown slides it down her body, the slave exposing both of her tits. After all, a fine slave would never hide them, especially after they'd been pierced.

"A consignment contract, you said?" Amira nods. "Yes. That's what Mithras explained."

"He's not wrong. Although there is more than one way to become a slave." The slave pauses for a brief moment, perhaps considering her words.

She had no intention of competing with this pretty Miraeian girl for Master's attention. And another of Therion's guests - Mithras - wouldn't be happy if his host kept his traveling partner as his property.

No, the Great Slave Markets would be perfect for this girl, actually. She remembered it well, her sale in auction coming weeks after she had been claimed by slavers in her home country. It'd be a fine distinction between a noble's life of privilege and her new life of submission and humiliation.

"But the markets should be fine for you, actually." The redhead cuts herself off, Amira's curiosity indulged enough that she's cautiously pawing at the slave's body.

"What's it like?" Amira nods, now asking with less reservation. "The start of it all. Being sold to a Master."

"A challenging adjustment, at first. Especially if you're sold to a brothel." The noblewoman considered herself beyond such a possibility, the slave could see from her eyes. And she probably was. Unless an ambitious brothel mistress was willing to pay more than any madame would typically pay for a new brothel slut.

"But either way. Especially if your Master knows how to train a slave properly."

"You'll receive your slave decorations after your sale, usually in your first night in a Master's household."

"Your nipple piercings, a standard collar." The girl touches Amira's wrist, bringing her fingers up to her tit, allowing her a touch of the jewelry that would soon enough decorate her own perky breasts.

"Oh, and your tattoo. Most Masters have a personal brand they'll apply to a new slave. Right... here." The redhead shifts up on her knees, fingers circling the own decorative serpent tattoo that decorated the left of her belly.

"It's the most important thing, actually, under slave customs. After that's complete, you're property of your Master's household. A slave, for real."

"Gods, yes," Amira whispered breathily to the slave's amusement. Perhaps this girl would make a fine slave after all, instead of crying in her dungeon cell all night long in her first month.

The slave smirked, piquing her excitement with a teasing touch of Amira's own hard and sensitive nipple. And yet, she was aware that this needy little one had already received more than enough excitement than she deserved tonight. The slavers liked to deprive an auction slut of stimuli for a week preceding her sale; in which case she'd be more sensitive and energetic than ever when Master took her virginity.

"You'll have to wait and see." The redhead said as she slid the fabric of Amira's shoulder straps up her body, paying no regard to her look of disappointment. If this were an ordinary visiting noble, her tongue would likely already be within her tight cunt, demonstrating her skills in pleasure in a manner that would make Amira moan loud enough that the visitors next door heard her.

But this woman was a future slave. She was to experience pleasure in the primary context of providing to a Master; her own desire for fulfillment being gratified through such service.

"It's three days to Remos City from here." The redhead informs Amira. "Did your guide tell you when you're appearing at Winding Sea Castle?"

"Not yet." Amira replies meekly, still feeling teased from her small taste of pleasures with the slave. "But he did say it would be...soon."

"That's good. You're there for your auction, not to dance in one of Mithras' brothels or any other sea slime." She reminds Amira.

"Be a good girl," she chides Amira, kissing her on the cheek as she fully clothes the future slave.

"But save showing what a complete little slut you are for your Master. Most of it."

Amira nods pensively, not sure how to admit that she wasn't as experienced in debauchery as this woman to understand exactly what she meant.