The Slave Princess......Part 3

A dragonfly’s wing
Rolling amongst brittle leaves;
A plaything of the wind,
That uncouth and awkward child.

- The Canticle of Menkeret.

“Menkeret is a kindly god. He is lord of all mysteries, certainly, and the source of all magic, but he is a benevolent deity foremost of all. Invoke him in your hour of need. He is the door of all subtleties and through subtlety we might best understand him. His emanations are manifold, my daughter and his manifestations truly sublime….........”

My father’s words echo faintly in my mind as though he had spoken them deep in the corridors of time. But they were the utterance of this year past, words of but last spring. It was then that I left him and my dear mother to wander the world, trusting in little more than my wits to protect me. Such a thing, no daughter of Mentrassanae had ever dared to do. The risk of incurring the censure of their kin and of their peers had kept them all in check. No so I!

My family did not oppose my leaving. My father spent long days and nights casting arcane runes and performing rites to safeguard me from harm. The nature and purpose of a few of them are known to me but most remain a mystery, so that, at times, I almost feel as though I do not know my own nature.

This land of the Darrakhai surrounds me now. It seeks to stifle, to oppress and to consume me. But it knows not that I am a viper in its breast. I may be deprived of wealth, of dignity, of freedom, I may be enslaved by the machinations of others but of virtue I will never be deprived. I must learn all that this place, this time and these circumstances have to teach me, for through wisdom I gain strength.

I see a smile. It is Ara’s smile. She approaches in her quiet way, wearing loosely a gown cut from the brown homespun that is the mark of the slave. I am immersed in warm water. We are in the bath chamber of the slave quarters of the house of our master Heshuzius. At present, our master seems to be away on business and rumor has it that he will be bringing home with him a number of new slaves. Those of us that he has seem to please him, for the most part and he is a kindly master by Darrakhai standards.

I dip my shoulders under the water. Having filled the bath myself and perfumed it with spices, I take the opportunity to bathe now that the house is quiet; the noontide heat having seen the majority of the occupants retire until late afternoon. The house has been busy today, for, tonight, the Lady Itelyssia; the wife of Heshuzius intends to entertain guests. Ara has informed me of this. She is a trusted slave and follows the rules of the house to the letter. But I often sense a hidden fear in her and a deep seated longing, the nature of which is still obscure to me.

Ara climbs the steps of the dais and hesitantly sheds her robe. A tanned foot tests the water which I have made cool. She smiles again and enters slowly, making few ripples – such is always her way. Her features are fine and her hair is dark, she has the high cheek bones and sharp chin of the women of Zonovon and she is indeed one of their number. Her large eyes are the eyes of modesty, ever downcast, but they are reflective, beautiful black eyes; made even more beautiful by what suffering they have witnessed. Her arms are muscular but supple and two perfect breasts adorn her. Aye, she is beautiful. A stray thought now crosses my mind; I would possess her.

“I saw your embroideries and your weaving in the loom chamber this morning. They are both very fine,” I tell her with a smile.

“Thank you, you are kind. I had a good teacher.”

“Your mother perhaps?”

She hesitates and gives me a sad look for an instant.

“Yes, my mother taught me to embroider but in the skills of the loom, it was the woman who mostly brought me up, my nurse.”

I step closer to her, she does not react. I can feel her emotion but it is mellow and calm.

“Tell me about your mother and your family,” I ask gently.

“There is not a great deal to tell. I was the youngest of eight children; five brothers and two sisters. They were all slaughtered by the Darrakhai.”

“I am aggrieved to hear it.”

“I alone survived by hiding in an olive barrel for two days. I emerged to find our house a smoking, plundered ruin. I saw the broken body of my brother Haruun first...and…and then in every room; the dried blood of my kin and our faithful retainers.”

“I mourn for you.”

“Thank you but you have no need to,” she says coldly.

“Still, it is fitting and does them honour, as you do them honour through remembrance.”

“I remember them aye, as they were when they lived.”

“How were you enslaved?’

“I found some rags that the plunderers had not taken. Dressed in these, I wandered through the city scavenging what I could, like an animal, until I was captured.”

“No member of your family survived?”

She shook her head slowly.

“No, it was three years ago, I was just 16. With each passing day their faces and voices grow fainter in my mind, it is just as well.”

I can sense that this is not true. She smiles again and shrugs her shoulders girlishly indicating that the subject is closed. I feel overwhelming compassion as I stand before her. The cool water is soothing around us as is the silence of the bath house. She looks up at me as I am a good hand’s span taller than her. I feel her hand grasp mine under the water and pull me close. Our lips meet and I feel her lovely soft, smooth skin against my face. After a moment she pulls away and looks up apologetically. But I am a swifter beast than she.

I place my hand upon her shoulder, our eyes lock and I gently draw her in. My kiss exceeds hers in intensity; doubly repaying her gift. I caress her lips lovingly as once I did those of my fisherman. Her breath is like a whisper, her heartbeat a pleasant rhythm in my ears. Now I feel her hand upon my breasts beneath the water, she rubs my nipples and swiftly they respond. I see a hunger in her eyes, a growing need. We kiss again and this time my hands encircle her slim waist, drawing her closer. I stand and feel Ara’s velvet tongue on my nipples; she licks and tickles them each in turn as I caress her and stroke her hair. After I have repaid the courtesy we both laugh, but quietly, lest we attract attention and incur the displeasure of our fellow slaves.

“Today we must assist in the preparations for Lady Itelyssia’s feast,” she whispers.

I nod and instantly reach down; to feel the skin between her thighs. She is surprised but does not resist.

“Let us begin by shaving each other.”

By the look on her face, I see that my suggestion meets Ara’s approval.

By the bath there is a small cabinet that holds the shaving implements and next to it, a low table upon which to sit. I suggest that Ara sits while I shave her. Her legs are slim and shapely, she waits as I sharpen the razor and mix the salve. All the while she looks up at me and smiles; her hips are round and her firm breasts still point up as she lies back on her forearms. I apply salve to her legs, rubbing it into her skin gently; she shuts her eyes, trusting in me to perform the task well. I shave both her legs. Her hair is soft, making it an easy task. Once I have finished I rinse her skin with warm water and turn to her pussy.

Gently I trim her and shape the remaining hair on her mound into a sharply pointed strip, for such is the current fashion amongst the Darrakhai. While I work, I notice her looking down approvingly. Once I have finished, she is swift to reciprocate and soon we sit side by side upon the padded table; our legs spread, our twin pussies refreshed and shaved to perfection. Ara giggles,

“Oh Kayla, it is at times like these I almost forget all the evil that has been.”

“Indeed, one must dwell in the present. It is times like these that I can revel in the beauty of another; one of my chief pleasures. Only I did not expect to meet a woman as beautiful as you here.”

At my compliment she turns and kisses my lips again. I embrace her and soon we quite forget that we are two totally nude women in the middle of a room open to the entire household. But Menkeret is a kindly god and all love is sacred to him. By his good grace, no one disturbs us and I revel in the softness of Ara’s lips and the supple caress of her soft hands upon my skin. She lays back and I kiss her from above for several long moments; our breasts meet; nestling beside each other, and our limbs intertwine.

“Let us escape and hide from prying eyes,” she whispers at last.

We stand quickly and enter the narrow corridor leading away from the slaves’ quarters. Here there is a long room filled with fabric; bales and bolts of it in great profusion. It is the perfect hideaway. We enter and lock the door. Immediately upon doing so, I embrace Ara and kiss her lips. As I am taller than her by a hand span, my arms caress her shoulders and her smooth back; I grasp her buttocks, kneading and spreading them teasingly. She breaks away from me and runs deeper into the room. I follow; admiring her swaying hips and svelte limbs. She turns and smiles teasingly. Communicating only with gestures, we unroll a bolt of cloth and spread it over several bales of wool. It is ...

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