Slave Unbound Ch. 14

She paused a moment, considering Leita, really taking her in for the first time since the attendants had begun their work. While her expression suggested that she had been about to make some biting remark, she appeared to reconsider. She even looked to be somewhat impressed. "Well, definitely better than a baboon, I guess."

She gestured to the attendants to stop a moment and extended a hand out. Leita hesitantly took the offered hand and let Cookie guide her over to a tall mirror. Though there was still some work left to be done, the reflection that stared back at her made her breath catch. "I look...beautiful."

Cookie chuffed. "I would think 'beautiful' to be a stretch, but I will give you that you are 'pretty', even attractive, for someone that normally looks more like a lump of mud."

Despite Cookie's derision, Leita marveled at how different she looked. Her usually unruly mop of dirty blonde hair had been washed and brushed out, ribbons now woven into the hair to make it into something playful. Her face had been powdered and painted, the colors subdued, but distinct and striking. Her eyes seemed brighter and more vibrant contrasted against the make-up.

Her body was girded in a silky, supple dress, the cut of which seemed to emphasize the sleek contours of her form. She looked nothing like herself, at least not the self she'd always faced in a mirror. As she smiled at the reflection, she shifted her posture, giving her head a slight turn and tilt. She willed herself to radiate ardor and hunger, pretended that her own image was someone else and tried to seduce that person, trying a few different poses and expressions.

Cookie made a show of rolling her eyes at Leita's efforts, the line of her mouth straightening out into a tight grimace. "You look ridiculous, girl, mugging like that. You have the grace and sensuality of an ox. Just be obedient when he tells you whatt he wants you to do and pretend like you enjoy it." She guided her back to the attendants, motioning for them to resume their work.

"Yes, mi'lady." Leita said, but continued to hold onto the sight of herself in the mirror, imagining that beautiful girl in the mirror coming across the Baron. This time, though, as the seducer, instead of the seduced. She saw no reason why she couldn't actually enjoy herself, treat this as just another battle to fight. Whomever had requested her had done so because of her fierceness in the arena, so why shouldn't she be fierce in her approach here?

By the time the attendants had finished all their work, she had already prepared herself for the encounter, had allowed her mind to paint it into something exciting. When the Baron had taken his pleasure with her, she'd been timid and unprepared, humiliated not by the act itself, but by her own weakness with it. Now, she felt strong and ready, unafraid to be taken. Or to take.

If Cookie had expected Leita to be reluctant or anxious, her disappointment was evident. All the bluster and smug attitude she'd carried out into the training pitch, savoring getting to see the poor slave girl tossed into a wolf's den, was gone now, replaced with a displeased air of petty resentment. Leita found that to be a bit satisfying.

She was deposited in a relatively small, but lushly furnished room, the central feature of which was a large soft bed. She was instructed to wait upon the bed for the arrival of her 'patron', but she spent her time wandering the room curiously inspecting things and plotting her tactics. The pair of guards left in the room with her did nothing to discourage her, merely stood by the only door and watched her.

Almost a full hour passed before anyone else entered the room, Leita immediately trying to adopt a sultry posture where she was at, though she nearly fell over in the rushed attempt. The door disgorged another pair of guards before a finely dressed man, his features handsome, but deeply arrogant, followed them in. He seemed caught off guard when he saw her, apparently not expecting her to clean up so well. He did seem quite pleased with what he saw, however, considering his expression.

Unexpectedly, she realized that she recognized this man. He was one of the men who had been trying to purchase her at the auction. She'd learned his name was Lord Cornelius Venge, the owner of the man she'd killed in her lot fight. Further, it also occurred to her, as she was really looking at him, that he was also the man she'd seen in the Ba'lyn Ur Shae parade, with his beautiful pleasure slaves.

"My, my, my, don't you look different." He purred, more to himself than to her, but she gave him a coy smile and a wan bow, trying to maintain a sensual manner.

"Thank you, Lord Venge." She said courteously.

"You know who I am?" He sounded genuinely surprised.

"I do, Lord Venge." She gave a slow nod, attempted to languidly drift towards him, awkwardly plucking a flower from a bouquet along her path, which left the rest of the arrangement disheveled. Despite the fumble, she managed to recover with a sheepish smile and continued her approach, sniffing at the flower. "I am very pleased and honored to be at your request."

She noted a slight falter in his expression at her behavior, a slight tightening at the corners of his mouth. It confused her a little. Perhaps her attempts at sultry really was coming off as just clumsy mugging. "Would mi'Lord like me to pour him some wine?" She asked quickly, waving towards where a handful of bottles were sitting next to a collection of cut-glass tumblers.

He watched her a moment, looking a little perplexed. Finally, he nodded assent and had the guards close the door, his two men taking up positions with the Mistress's guards. It would be awkward doing things with them watching her, but she knew that there was no use in hoping that they might be dismissed. They were here for his protection, something he was unlikely to give up.

As she poured him the wine, he approached her slowly, looking ever more curious. "You know my name, but do you actually know who I am?" He asked her.

"I do, mi'Lord." She replied with a nod as she replaced the cap into the wine decanter. "You are--"

"I am not a 'Lord'." He interrupted her. "Though I suppose many do call me so. However, I should be addressed as 'Master Venge', not 'Lord Venge'."

"Yes, Master Venge." She said obediently, handing the tumbler of wine to him. "My apologies." She was starting to feel even more awkward now, the encounter apparently already off to a bad start.

"Now, you were saying that you do know who I am?" He prompted before bringing the glass to his lips to take a taste.

"You are the owner and Master of the House whose gladiator I killed." She answered openly. "House Victorious."

"That I am." He replied, his arrogant demeanor of authority returning quickly to him. "His death was quite a loss to House Victorious. And to myself." He fixed her with a dark glare.

Leita lowered her eyes, feeling a thin pang of guilt over the man's death. While she didn't regret killing him, certain he would have killed her had she not, she still recognized that he'd been a person in much the same situation as her own. While she doubted Venge had been a close friend of the gladiator, there might still have been a relationship there that she'd destroyed. And surely Maslow had real friends in his own stable who mourned his death.

"For his death, Master Venge, I apologize." She said softly, lowering her head. "And I see now why you did request this of me."

A wicked smile curled up on Cornelius Venge's face. "Do you?"

"Yes, Master Venge." She replied, nodding shallowly. "And I agree that you deserve to have some satisfaction from me for your loss." She added, face coming up with an inviting smile.

The wicked grin crumpled. "You...agree...?"

"Of course, Master Venge!" Leita said emphatically, taking a step closer to him. "And I thank you for the chance to give myself to you, freely and willingly, as a way to show you my regrets." She took another step closer to him, meeting his eyes and trying to show that she was eager to please.

However, Venge took an unconscious step backwards, his composure faltering again. "You...thank me?" He said unsteadily and dubiously.

Leita puzzled at the strange reaction, trying to understand what she was doing wrong. Perhaps, she simply wasn't being convincing enough, did not seem truly earnest in her desire. "Oh, yes, Master Venge." She said enthusiastically, again taking a step towards him, with even greater intent. Again, he took a step back, seemingly without thinking, and nearly tripped over his own heeled shoes.

He fumbled his hands, obviously trying not to spill the glass of wine, but seemed shocked to realize he was no longer holding it. Leita had not only plucked it from his hand, not a drop spilled, but had also grabbed his vest to keep him from falling. He looked at her firm and steady hold of him, having arrested his fall almost effortlessly, despite being more than a foot shorter than him.

She quickly released him once he had his balance, blushing, and quickly drained the wine from the cup herself, to make herself bolder. "Please, Master Venge, allow me to give myself to you. You must be so tired of slave girls who seem so broken down that their lovemaking is only a thin act. I want to pleasure you. To show you how sorry I am to your House. And for you being unable to buy me as your own."

As she spoke, she continued to advance, relentlessly stalking him as he continued to retreat, seeming more and more dismayed. When a soft snort of laughter came from one of the guards, his head snapped their way, glaring furiously. Leita took the opportunity to finally catch her quarry, snatching him into a firm embrace.

"Let me ravish you, Master Venge!" She exclaimed as she glomped onto him.

He cried out in panic and managed to wriggle out of her grasp, but the effort sent him tumbling to the floor. She was astride him instantly. "I promise, Master Venge, I will be gentle, if you just let me. I can tell you are a man of sophistication and intelligence; I recognize your reluctance as that you are used to passive, empty pleasure slaves. Let me show you want it is like to have a woman passionately pursue you."

There was another poorly stifled snort from the direction of the guards, but this time Cornelius Venge was too rattled to register it. "I-I-I assure you, I have had plenty of--" He stammered out, looking aggrieved, but she cut his words short by grabbing his head with her hands and pulling him into a lusty kiss, clumsily trying to wrestle his tongue with her own, as she mashed her lips into his.

He sputtered a moment, moaned, allowed himself to give into the kiss for a brief moment, then suddenly lurched away with eyes wild and wide. Pushing with all his might, he managed to dislodge Leita and scramble to his feet. Leita struggled to understand what she was doing wrong. According to Cookie, this was what men wanted, to feel like the woman desired him. Why was this going so badly?

And then she realized where it was that he was running to and gave a relieved sigh. The bed! Bouncing to her feet, she got a few running steps and leapt onto him, tackling him down to the bed with a lecherous giggle. "I think I get it!" She said out loud. "You enjoy playing hard to get? Enjoy having a warrior woman 'conquer' you?" She gave another little giggle. "Have I finally caught you, Master Venge? Are you mine to take now?" She gave a little sound that she meant to sound like a purr, but realized, a bit too late, that it came out more like a feral growl.

In the next moment, Venge was screaming for his guards to help him, the two men quickly rushing forward. Leita was wise enough to scramble off the HouseMaster and put up her hands. Cornelius Venge didn't waste the opening to flee, rushing from the room in a mad dash. His guards quickly followed in his wake, but not before one of them looked back towards her and gave yet another snort of laughter.

Leita sighed, sitting there on the bed sulking. She'd obviously messed it all up. Obviously, she knew nothing about how to please a man like a pleasure slave. Cookie would have weeks of choice fodder to degrade her with now and the Mistress would probably be furious with her for her terrible performance.

If only she knew.