AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yes, mistress,” I said.
“Good girl.” The baron had said it this time. In his deep voice it seemed to sound utterly different from the mistress’ casual use of the words, and from Agent Delvik’s mocking version. My brow furrowed as I felt a warmth arise in me, very different from the returning spark of resistance. “We’re going to take you home, now.”
Only in the automated wagon—Mistress Franla had called it acarwhen she had instructed me to get in and sit down—did I learn why they had come to get me before any other girl’s owner had shown up at the corral. They didn’t tell me directly, of course, but the baron’s first words provided an explanation.
“I’m glad to be gone from there, I must say,” the baron told the mistress as soon as they sat down opposite me. “I used to enjoy the auctions, simply as a spectator, but these days I find the ostentation simply depressing.”
I had my eyes on my knees, sitting awkwardly perched on the edge of the leather covered seat. The tension in my shoulders from having my wrists bound behind me had turned into an ache. I could feel their gazes on me even as they conversed, so I didn’t dare even try to shift so as to get a little relief.
“As you say, my lord,” the mistress replied. “As you can imagine, I’ve been to more of them than I can count, and recently I’vedefinitely noticed more… posturing, shall we say, among the buyers?”
“It’s the war,” the baron said, “or so I believe, at any rate. Car, take us home, please.”
I felt my eyes go wide as the carriage started to move, accelerating so smoothly that I hardly felt it, though out of the corner of my eye I could see, through the window, that the things outside—huge stone buildings, metal poles, tall trees that must have grown there in the capital for hundreds of years—had begun to flash by.
The baron spoke again, as if finishing his thought. “Everyone trying to pretend that things are going to go on just as usual.”
“They aren’t?” asked Madame Franla. Though I couldn’t see her face, I thought I could picture her raised eyebrows.
“Chalondra,” the baron said, catching me by surprise once again, making my heart jump at the sound of my true name in his deep voice, “you may look out the window. I don’t want you to miss your first sight of Vion City.”
My lips parted, as if I might have something to say. I definitely wanted to raise my eyes, but I found myself suddenly anxious at my new master’s addressing me not with a command but with a permission, an utterly unexpected development. I didn’t think it could represent a trap, really, but though a moment before I had longed to see all the amazing things outside the automatic carriage I suddenly dreaded that view. It would mean, somehow, that the company really had requisitioned me, flown me to the center of the empire, and sold me to a nobleman for his enjoyment in some way I still couldn’t fathom.
He’s going to… to…
Fuck me.And then, it seemed, I would no longer be a virgin?
“Chalondra,” said Madame Franla’s voice, a little chiding though not really strict, let alone menacing, “are you going to refuse such a kind gesture on your master’s part? Look, and thank his lordship for the privilege.”
I raised my eyes, but I found that although I had intended to look nowhere but out the window, I had instead fixed my gaze on my master’s face. He looked back at me with the last expression I had expected—a smile: a real smile, not the smug, mocking upturning of the lips that Agent Delvik had shown me, but a warm welcoming of my eyes on his.
“Th—thank you, Master.” I said it automatically, because—to my absolute chagrin—I felt it. I feltgratefulto the man who had bought me, for letting me look at the sights of the city where I would serve him in whatever degrading fashion he chose.
CHAPTER 15
Chalondra
“You are very welcome, my dear,” he said, his smile growing slightly. “Now go ahead and look. That’s the imperial palace over there.”
I felt my eyes widen, and the unwelcome, warm feeling of gratitude grew. I had to obey him out of the sheer need not to see his face anymore, because of how distressingly it affected me. I had supposed that the worst thing that could happen at the auction would be that a cruel man, a man like Agent Delvik, might purchase me. I suddenly wondered whether having an owner who could show kindness and smile at his plaything as the baron just had, might actually do more to break my spirit than any punisher or paddle could.
I turned my face towards the window, an expanse of glass so wide and tall and transparent that it hardly seemed to divide me from the exterior of the car. My jaw dropped, and if I had thought my eyes had opened further at the baron’s smile, I knew they must now have grown to a nearly ridiculous size.
The palace to which my master’s finger pointed occupied fully a quarter of the view, despite seeming a kilometer away or more. It rose in sharp angles of rose-colored stone, so many stories high that I couldn’t count the rows of ornate windows and pointed arches. At its top, it soared towards the sky—a blue just a bit darker, I thought, than Kamnos’—in a spire tall enough that I had to lean forward a little to see its top.
But the palace only occupied the most prominent place in a city—the word finally took on real meaning for me, having seen what a city looked like—full of marvels. The road the car traveled along seemed to run in a broad curve around the edge of a central group of buildings, a wheel of which the palace appeared to serve as the hub. Around it loomed other buildings—palaces, too, I thought, remembering that my master had called the big one theimperialpalace. As if their architects had wanted to reflect the glory of the emperor, they all seemed smaller versions of his home, though not in a way that seemed monotonous, for I could see that they had individual details that made each one distinctive: this one had three towers of equal heights; that one had two of different heights, but had an extra story and a roof of green rather than red.
“That’s Gravamir House,” the baron said, and he leaned over the space between the seats of the car and put his right hand between my knees while with his left he pointed to one of the palaces. He brought his face close to mine, as if to make sure he could point in the direction that matched my eyeline. “The one with the two unequal spires. My grandfather raised the height of the tall one because he wanted to be able to look down on the duke next door. They had quite a dispute, which my grandfather won despite our technically inferior rank.”
I let out a little sob, because as he spoke, and as I looked more closely at the palace, and as I lost sight of it because the car turned from the encircling rim road to follow one of its spokes towards Gravamir House, his hand worked its way further and further up between my thighs. When he touched my pussy, twining his fingers in the curly hair and pressing two of their tips between my outer lips, I cried out softly, a forlorn, fading sort of cry.
Out the window, the view had become much more limited. The rim road had traveled through what had seemed a sort of park, perhaps laid out in that open way so as to display the glories of the city to their best effect. We had exited the open space soon after turning, and the car drove down a street with buildings on either side—not the palaces yet, but smaller structures with big front windows and signs that seemed to tell of shops inside, full of beautiful clothing and rich food of kinds I had never seen before.
“I’m going to dress you in panties from that store right there,” the baron said, pointing to a window where something in the shape of a woman—amannequin, I suddenly remembered from my school reading—wore underwear of a sort I had never imagined. Hot blood flowed into my cheeks at the sight of those tiny panties and the little breast halter that matched them. “After we get this wet little quim of yours properly bared.”
My master emphasized his last words with a gentle squeeze, as if to make certain I knew what part of me he meant. The bodily sensation of the pressure and the friction seemed to combine with the embarrassing ideas the baron had introduced to my already-reeling mind… the idea of having my pussy hair removed, somehow… of what that would mean, if I was indeed made to wear the panties I had seen on the mannequin… ofwhat I would look like, down there, how visible my private parts would be through the delicate, decorated fabric… of how it all must have something to do with the thing I didn’t understand… the terrifying but also helplessly fascinating prospect offucking.
The fingertips between my thighs went further, found the opening there. I cried out much louder than I had a moment before, because I felt myself clench, and I felt my wetness flow onto my master’s fingers as he moved them in and out of me.
