Death of a Slave Girl

... She danced about the sandpit, body moving beautifully in a seductive belly dance... chest lifting as her hips rolled to the music. Occasionally, her hand came down to slap a bare thigh, punctuating the beat. She was lost to the music. The shimmering veils still covered her upper body and face. It was an odd contrast next to her bare legs; creating an enticing dichotomy of a demure but tantalizing female.

The Master watched his slave dance for them. She was halfway through the well known dance called "Seven Veils." He smiled to himself as he turned to his entranced Guest. "She is beautiful, isn't she." He held his cup up to be refilled by the awaiting wine slave.

The Master's Guest nodded, grunting his approval of the nearly naked slave dancing for their pleasure. "She is. Where did you get her?" He licked his lips, idle images of him taking the slave girl at his leisure wandered through his brain.

"A traveler gave her to me as payment for lodging and services. I haven't regretted it. She's a good slave." The Master settled back, watching the sensuous girl dancing before them. "Well trained and intuitive."

The slave girl tossed her head, dancing now in a wild freedom. Laughter escaped from her red lips in the joy of the music, feet pounding out the beat. Her naked body glistened with her exertions, hips swinging brazenly. Then suddenly, the slave and the music stopped as one, jarring in the silence. She held her pose, hips cocked, arms up, head thrown back as she panted, chest heaving. The veils gone, the slave revealed....

The Master's Guest leaned forward, hungry eyes roaming the slave's naked, nubile form. He could almost feel her tender flesh under his hands. Her helplessness as he did what he pleased with her. He watched the girl move silently about the sandpit, gathering the silken veils that she had shed during her dance.

"Do you want her?" The Master asked. He was in a good mood and feeling generous.

The Master's Guest turned to his friend. "Want her? As in how?"

Seeing the look on his Guest's face, he chuckled. "Not to buy. Just to use for the night. I wouldn't want to part with such a prize slave beast." The Master sipped his wine. "She has given me much pleasure."

A smile spread across the Guest's face and he looked to the slave girl. "That is very kind of you, my friend. I would be delighted." He watched the face of the slave girl as she heard these words. He was thrilled to see her pale briefly in fear and then quickly smooth over her features. 'Yes, girl. Fear me. You will be controlled like never had been before.... licking my feet in adoration by the time I'm done with you.' Blatant, erotic thoughts were already causing his body to respond.

"Then it is done." The Master clapped his hands together, calling the slave to him. He stroked her golden hair fondly as he would a pet when she knelt at his side, keeping her eyes lowered in respect. Lifting her chin to look into her clear blue eyes, the Master murmured, "I am giving you to my guest for the night, slave. Be sure that he is pleased in the morning."

Her eyes darted from her Master to the Master's Guest for a second before she whispered, "Yes Master." Then she lowered her eyes respectfully, quaking deep inside. The fear made her want to curl up into a ball and hide.

The Master passed his slave over to his Guest, silently amused at her fear. He had heard of the capricious tastes of his friend, and no doubt, so had his slaves. It was good to let them feel the fear of an unknown like his Guest. It kept them happy and thankful for their lives here.

"Food for myself and my friend!" The Master called out to the hall. Instantly, there was the soft patter of feet as the slaves scurried to do the Master's bidding.

'Please, please... just let me live though this.' She silently begged as he ripped the rest of her scant clothing away. All she could think was to survive and to try and please her Master's Guest.

The next blow send her flying to the bed of fur and silk. Her head reeled in the pain as she looked up at him. The tears coursed down her bruised face. 'Master can't have known he was like this. Master.... please... someone... help me!' She refused to believe that her Master would send to her to die at the hands of this madman. Her body shook as she tried to suppress a sob.

"So pretty..." He said, voice cold and far away. "So very pretty and delicate." His eyes roamed her naked body as she sprawled on the bed. He watched bruise darken on her cheek. It made her that much more beautiful in his eyes. 'She will be an angel before the night is over.' In his mind's eye, he could already see the lovely bruises that he would make on her body. The thought made his loins ache.

She cringed when the Master's Guest stepped towards the bed, shedding his clothing. Silently she prayed to every god she could think of, pleading for a Savior.

She paused a moment, trying desperately to draw air into her bursting lungs; vaguely aware of the man pounding into her bruised and battered body. Music. She could hear music. It stunned her. She realized that she could not move her arms but for some reason, it did not matter.

'Yes... dancing... learning to dance. Step to the left... {{-Must breath!!-}} Turn and twirl to the right. Step... step... {{-Pain!!-}} kick.... Must step... four... no... three steps. Must... please Master... please... begging {{...Lights... no... Darknes...}} twirling... spinning. Around and around and around... then .... we .... all .... fall -'

"What happened?" He continued to look at her dead body in a dispassionate manner as he watched the light play over her golden hair that tumbled across the pillows.

"Oh, she wasn't as strong as I thought she was." The Guest shrugged in an off-hand manner. "Though, she did fight like a wild animal towards the end." He smiled and held up his bloodied, scratched arms. "It was delicious."

"I see." The Master looked at his friend's face. "She was valuable to me. A good slave." He would not openly admit that he would actually miss this one.

His Guest nodded. "I know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to kill her." He glanced at the dead slave and realized that he did not even know her name. "Of course, I shall pay you for the loss."

'So the rumors were true. He is a brutal man. But that's his own business. He will not have another of my slaves.' The Master nodded. "How much?"

"I figure, for a good slave, 5."

"5?" The Master snorted. "She was worth at least 10. She was my best dancer." He turned to look out the window.

His Guest grinned a little. "10? I don't think so, my friend. She was good but not that good. I could be persuaded to go as high as say...7?" The man's voice was light and unconcerned.

"I will also have to find someone else to teach the girls to dance. More hassle for me. I will accept 9." The Master turned back to the bed and gently touched the slave girl's lifeless body. She was still beautiful. If it were not for the expression of horror on her face, he could imagine that she were only sleeping.

The Guest fussed with bandaging his arms, thinking about how he had taken the girl so fully. She had fought at the end, clawing at his arms and face as he slowly strangled the life from her. It had been one of those magical times.... just as she had surrendered her last breath, he had filled her body with his seed. Her pulse fluttering... fading... as his grew stronger and stronger. It was as if the loss of her life empowered his. He shook his head, clearing it of the darkly erotic imagery. His body responded to his mind, flooding his loins, yet again.

The Master's Guest conceded, "I will pay you 8, my friend. She -was- a good slave." He finished dressing and looked at the Master of the house. "After all, you can always get another one. Probably two for 8." He held out his hand and smiled. "For old times' sake."

The Master hesitated only a second and then clasped hands with his guest and friend. "You're right. I -can- always get another one. 8 it is." The Master smiled. "Now, what about something to eat?" The Guest smiled and nodded, his darkest appetites sated for the moment.

The two of them turned and walked from the room with the Master giving instructions to a nearby slave to have food prepared and to make sure that someone cleaned up the Guest chambers. Off they went, discussing the business of the day, not giving the dead girl another thought.

Such was the life and death of a slave girl... measured by a short conversation and a few coins.

All stories, scenes, works and poetry owned by Eden Blackthorn
(c) 1997-2001 - Eden Blackthorn
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