The Taking of Ariel
J.V. Altharas
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2010 by J.V. Altharas, All Rights Reserved
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
Thank you for downloading this free ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to Smashwords.com to discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.
The author may be contacted regarding permissions for commercial use at jvaltharas@gmail.com
This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
More Free Erotica (Text and Audio)
The tavern was dimly lit, filled with the oily smoke of lanterns and the smell of roasting meat. Business appeared to be good, and the main hall was filled with nearly a hundred people. Many soldiers returning home to Carellia were mixed in with local merchants and scoundrels. A half dozen serving wenches tended to the patrons, while the tavern’s whores plied their trade in the rooms upstairs. A minstrel played in one corner, filling the room with raucous drinking songs.
Arius had come out this night for a break from his newfound responsibilities as Lord of Exodus, and he had instructed his companions to join him in dressing inconspicuously. Regardless, the lot of them were battle-hardened officers and went nowhere without their blades. Half a dozen men followed Arius to an open table in the back of the tavern, where they ordered a round of bitter-but-potent Saragan ale.
Arius was uncertain his spirits could be lifted, sitting quiet as his companions laughed and told stories. He had gone in a flash from the reckless heir to the lord himself, and his heart was black with the death of his father. A part of him wouldn't stop thinking that there should have been something he could have done to prevent it.
The deposed King Duras of Saragas had called upon his father, Lord Garold, for aid. Garold had been quick to respond by marching all the armies of his province to support his lifelong friend. They had succeeded in quashing the usurper and returning Duras to power, but the cost had been great. In one last act of defiance, the king’s traitorous nephew had contracted the murder of Lord Garold in retaliation.
In the middle of a busy plaza, both the Lord of Exodus and his Kelinar guardian had been struck by darts tipped with a poison so deadly its manufacture was punishable by death. Garold, Twelfth Provincial Lord of Exodus, was gone before he fell.
Now Arius, his father dead less than a fortnight, found himself with the mantle of leadership square on his shoulders; decades ahead of when he’d expected. His father had always advised him to embrace youth, and to see whatever he wanted of the world while he still had some shred of it left. Arius had been happy to spend his time chasing after blood and lust across the Six Kingdoms of Aeodar, but all that had come to a swift end that day in the Saragan capitol.
Garold had not only restored his friend to the throne, but had sealed peace between the kingdoms of Carellia and Saragas for generations to come. While King Tirol of Carellia was not thrilled by his lords marching armies onto foreign soil without his consent, he was certainly pleased with the political result. King Duras swore an oath of blood to the House of Exodus, and had Garold’s body preserved and laid in state as a Hero of Saragas.
Arius now presided over the long voyage home, stopping in every major Saragan port so the people could pay their respects to his father. They came out in throngs, and while the comfort was cold it was good to see evidence that his father’s sacrifice was not in vain. Alla’na was to be their last stop before sailing for home. Arius was feeling the weight of leadership already, and steeling himself to take up the banner of his family’s legacy. Exodus was the most powerful province in the Kingdom of Carellia, widely seen as the birthplace of modern civilization, and ruled by his family since the forging of the kingdom.
It now came to Arius to protect and advance that legacy, and the scope of it was immense. His twenty-eight years had not quite prepared him for the task, but his father had often said nothing really could. Terell, his closest friend and sworn guardian, had insisted they get off the ship for some drinking and wenching while in port. A short way from the docks there were several taverns well known by the Carellian soldiers, and with an army heading home they were busy. Thus Arius and a handful of his officers found their way into the Laughing Dog that night.
Many Carellians tended to see the olive-skinned Saragans as few steps up from savages. The educated saw them as a twisted reflection of what Carellia might have become, had history taken a different route. Some rather barbaric customs regarding slavery were alive and well here, centuries after the institution had evolved in Carellia. For a man whose ancestor had been the first to grant rights and protections to slaves, walking the streets of Saragas could be infuriating. King Duras had made a pledge to begin bringing his nation into the modern world, in honor of his debt to their house.
Arius was lost in thought, about to call for another ale, when a busty redhead plopped herself Terell’s lap; then a petite brunette sat in his own. Startled, he managed a grin as she said, “The pair of you look far too serious. How might we entertain you?” Arius gave a broad smile as he took in the sight of her. Dark, straight hair flowed well past her shoulders, and her skin was too light to be Saragan. Something in her eyes captivated him on the spot, though he knew the girls were simply obeying their master. The collars around her necks marked them as slaves, and their bearing marked them as two of the tavern’s prostitutes.
Arius winked and replied, “Improving the view was an excellent start. Tell me your name.”
“Ariel, Sir,” she said.
He asked, “How did you come to serve here? You seem a bit—refined for such surroundings.”
Ariel replied, “You flatter me needlessly, Sir. I was born a slave and educated to serve in the harem of my former master. He was among those who supported the revolution. After his execution all his possessions, including his slaves, were confiscated by the king and sold. Master Vargus bought several of us, though he went deeply into debt to do so. He feels we might draw in a higher class of patron.” She traced his chin with her finger, with a seductive smile. “I can see that his plan has succeeded already.”
Before Arius could respond; a scrawny, sour man behind the bar shouted, “Dalia, you have a customer.” Arius presumed that would be Vargus, owner of the Laughing Dog.
The slave in Terell’s lap kissed him and promised to return soon, before joining a man at the bar and leading him upstairs. Terell then looked across the table with a knowing glance, and Arius asked, “Must you listen to everything I think?”
Terell laughed. “As if I need to touch your mind to know what’s in it.”
“True enough,” said Arius, grinning.
Ariel asked Terell, “You are Kelinar?” Terell nodded. Amidst many other roles, the Order of Kelinar were responsible for safeguarding Carellian nobility. Their preternatural skills in battle, and their mental prowess, were legendary; some of the last vestiges of the ancient arcane arts. After regaining his throne, King Duras accepted a Kelinar guardian into his palace to protect him. The entire realm was fluttering with gossip. The skills of the order were far beyond the charms and rituals utilized by healers and shamans, and the stuff of fireside tales across Aeodar. Ariel leaned in, whispering, “Do you watch over one of these men?”
“Indeed.” Terell winked. “You’re sitting on his lap.” Arius gave her backside a playful squeeze and was rewarded by a girlish giggle. Despite his better judgment, he felt himself taken with this girl. Saragan slaves enjoyed virtually none of the rights known to their counterparts in Carellia. Here they could be used for sex without their consent, and had no legal protection from abuse.
To be a whore in this tavern was an ignoble fate for a slave educated to serve in a harem, and Arius was beginning to think that this might be a perfect opportunity to exercise the vast treasury that he now controlled. Settling into the seat of power would bring many challenges, and oddly enough taking slaves had been low on his list of concerns; until this one had appeared in his lap, at least. He knew he would regret leaving such a creature to while out her days in this cesspool.
A few moments later Dalia's customer stormed down the stairs ahead of her, shouting at Vargus that his whores needed to learn their place. Arius felt Ariel’s body tense as many eyes turned to the confrontation. Vargus reached across the bar and grabbed Dalia by the hair, slapping her face. “Explain yourself, whore.”
Dalia said, “He’s got sores all over him—he’s diseased. No one should have to spread her legs for that.”
Vargus slapped her again then slammed her face down on the bar. He said, “This isn’t some noble’s harem, whore. You don’t choose who you fuck, and you don’t turn away a paying customer.” He held her head down, pulling a stiff-tailed flail from beneath the counter. He gave her three merciless lashes on the back, saying, “Maybe I should just have him use you right here, bent over the bar, to teach you a lesson.”
The irate customer began pawing at Dalia’s thin dress, and more blows from the flail were beginning to draw blood. One of the bruisers responsible for keeping order had drawn close to his employer and stood silent watch.
Arius was ready to spring from his seat. He had always tried to respect the laws and customs of any place he wandered. He was not the same man that had sailed into Saragas months ago, however. Arius, heir to Lord Garold, had been able to follow his whims. He often stood tall on behalf of the weak, as his nobility required of him, but had the leisure of choosing his battles.
Arius, Lord of Exodus, had no such reprieve. He had a duty, both to his nature and his lineage; and was about to step into his own for the first time. As the abuse continued, Arius felt rage building. Every fiber of his being screamed to defend this slave. The House of Exodus had brought an end to this sort of brutality in Carellia centuries ago. Foreign land or not, no worthy Carellian lord would allow such a thing to continue in his presence. He pushed a thought to Terell. I’m about to end this.
I would expect no less, Terell silently encouraged.
Arius lifted Ariel out of his lap as if she were a doll, setting her on her feet before leaping out of his chair with Terell close behind. They closed the distance to the bar in a flash. Before the bruiser knew what was happening, a boot to the knee and a forearm to the throat had him gasping for breath on the floor. The rest of the Lord's men moved their hands from mugs to sword hilts.
Arius flung the customer to the side and snatched the flail from the hand of a shocked Vargus, flipping it around and striking his face. Another quick swing had the tails wrapped around his neck, allowing a yank to slam his head on the bar. Vargus would not release his grip on Dalia, calling for aid.
The music went silent as the minstrel’s attention was drawn to the fray, and several more of the tavern's bruisers approached the bar. Arius drew his dagger and put it to the tavern owner’s throat. The young lord shouted, “One step closer and you shall all be seeking new employment.” He leaned in on Vargus, saying, “I see only one person in need of a lesson in manners here, and it is not this slave.”
Defiant, Vargus replied, “This whore is my property, and I am within the law. You have no right to interfere!”
“Watch your tongue, dog,” said Terell. “You address a Lord of Carellia.”
“Ha!” Vargus snorted, “This upstart is no noble. Unhand me this instant, and I’ll let you walk out of here alive.” Vargus banged his fist on the bar. Several of the Saragan patrons stood, reaching for weapons. “I don’t think bleeding me over a whore is worth your life, but I suppose we shall know soon enough. You chose the wrong tavern to stir up trouble in. I pay my dues to the guard.”
Ariel watched in awe. She had known her share of Saragan nobles, but few carried themselves with actual nobility. Though she knew something of Carellian customs, their enlightened view of slavery was something of a taboo subject this far south. No Saragan master wanted his slaves imagining a brighter future to the north. Never before had someone stood to defend a slave in front of her eyes. The sight had her heart racing with the thought of serving such a man.
As the Saragans started to advance, Arius bellowed, “Warriors of Carellia, stand and be counted with the Lord of Exodus.” The Saragans froze in their tracks, and every eye in the house was now engaged. Arius’ companions stood, hands on their blades, moving out from their table. The tavern was indeed full of loyal swords, many from the young lord’s province. Moments later two dozen men stood with Arius, and the Saragans quickly found their seats. Fear and realization crept into Vargus’ eyes. This was indeed a Carellian lord, and that meant the man beside him was Kelinar.
“Now,” Arius said in a calm, ominous voice, “shall I inform King Duras that Vargus of the Laughing Dog ordered an attack on the Lord of Exodus? I presume that might not go well for you, but if we are indeed to have Saragan law sort this out, I suppose there will be little choice.”
Vargus pleaded “No, my lord, please accept my apologies, I had no idea who you were.” He was now looking for ways to get out of this unscathed.
“Better,” Arius replied, holding his blade steady. “Unhand this slave.” Vargus released his grip on a sobbing, bloody Dalia. Ariel ran to her, taking the beaten girl in her arms. Arius asked Ariel, “This is one of the slaves who arrived here with you?” Ariel nodded. “Is this sort of savagery commonplace here?” Another nod.
Pushing the dagger deeper into Vargus’ neck, drawing a trickle of blood, Arius said, “Consider yourself fortunate. I am here to personally inform you that your king has vowed to bring Saragan slavery into the modern world, and you have the privilege of being an example to all.” Vargus began trembling. “Because I am merciful, I believe we might find a resolution that does not involve the king, and also does not involve burning this tavern to its foundation with you nailed to the bar.” Arius slammed his fist on the wood to underline the point.
Vargus started at the sound, crying out as the blade at his throat did not yield. Feeling his face swelling up, he was now concerned less with escaping unscathed and more with escaping alive. Arius sheathed his dagger, releasing his hold on the barman, unwinding the flail from his neck. Vargus lifted his head. Arius leaned his elbows on the bar and folded his arms, saying, “Now that we all know who we are, perhaps we might find a civilized end to this.”
Arius wanted nothing more than to put this savage’s head on a pike in the street. He forced himself to ask what his father would have done, to find a noble solution that made the appropriate statement. He asked, “Do you agree to settle this dispute as a matter of Carellian law?”
Vargus had little choice. Saragan law would have his head for threatening a nobleman from any nation, ignorant or not. His answer was a hesitant nod. Arius said, “Ariel, collect the other slaves. Valen,” he called out towards his men, “be sure no customers protest.” A tall, heavily muscled Saragan stepped out of the group of officers, following Ariel as she headed up the stairs.
Arius asked, “How much did you pay for these slaves?”
“Four thousand, all told,” Vargus replied. The price was high enough to be suspicious.
Arius heard a snort from across the room. He shouted, “Whoever that was, stand and speak.”
A patron rose from a table near the stage, saying, “I sold him those slaves, for twenty five hundred; and he still owes over two thousand of that. And, if I might be so bold, in exchange for preferred tariffs for my shipments into your ports, I would be happy to be informative on any topic of your interest.”
Arius shook his head with a sigh. “And here I was, trying to be civilized.” In a flash he grabbed Vargus by the hair. Ariel came back down into the tavern, followed by Valen and three other slaves, just in time to see Arius cutting a deep gash into the barman's cheek. He asked, “Do you know what that means?”
Vargus nodded, blood beginning to drip off his chin. In ancient times Carellians had marked prisoners for death by carving an “X” into their cheeks. Though only the provincial lords still retained the right to practice that custom, it was well known. He hadn’t been able to resist an attempt to turn a profit on the slaves, and the cut on his cheek was the epitome of a final warning.
Arius released Vargus, turning his attention to the slaves. They were all attractive and reasonably young, what one would expect in a Saragan harem. Ariel introduced the others as Rhiel, Suni and Tamar. All things considered, it seemed Vargus had gotten a bargain. Arius said, “I intend to purchase the lot of you, to have your service for no less than five years. Would any of you refuse to submit to Carellian law?” Eyes wide with hope, they shook their heads.
Arius called out to the slaver, “Name yourself.”
“Pagar, my lord,” he replied, “purveyor of all things exquisite. I am here this evening to collect a payment on the property in question.”
“And so you shall,” said Arius. “Will you accept a marker from the House of Exodus for payment in full for these slaves?”
“Gleefully,” Pagar replied.
“So be it,” said Arius. “It seems this day is simply brimming with good fortune for most of us. Pagar, I now have need of eyes in Alla’na which can pay special attention to the Laughing Dog. So long as you continue to provide this small service, you have your preferred status in my ports. The first of your ships to arrive after my return may collect your payment for these slaves.” Pagar nodded with a smile. Chance had won him a profitable victory, and Vargus' inevitable rage was well worth it.
Turning his attention back to the barman, Arius said, “I deem you unworthy to keep ownership of these slaves, thus I am confiscating them. The king will hear none of this so long as you heed what I am about to say. Should I ever hear word of your abuse of another slave, I will return here to burn this tavern to the ground with my own hands. Within these walls, slaves will be kept and protected as they would in Carellia. Do you understand?”
Vargus nodded, blood still dripping from his face, ready to do or say anything to get this lord out from under his roof. Losing the whores would cost him, and he dare not ask reimbursement for what he’d already paid, but it was well past time to cut his losses.
Arius held out his hand, demanding the key to their collars. Soon they were in a pile on the bar. “Now,” said Arius, “we simply have the matter of punishment for the crime of abusing a slave; which is to have that same abuse turned back upon you.” The remaining color drained from Vargus’ face. “Since I simply don’t have the time to have you raped with a diseased cock, we shall have to settle for just the flail.” Vargus began to protest, but Valen was already on him, dragging him out from behind the bar and lashing his wrists to one of the columns supporting the upper floor.
Arius offered the flail to Dalia, who had gone from panicked to furious. The girl obviously had spirit. With a wicked grin she took the flail, bringing it down on her former master’s back with all her might, then switching to a two-handed grip. As she beat him, she began screaming insults. Arius couldn’t suppress a laugh when he heard, “shove this flail in your ass and light it on fire.” Though he was quite entertained, after a dozen or so blows he caught her hand. Before being pulled away, Dalia planted a kick between his legs from behind, saying, “And that is for forcing me to touch that scrawny, filthy thing you call a cock
Valen cut Vargus down, amidst chuckles from the crowd, turning him over to his bruisers. Arius gathered his companions and purchases, preparing to leave. They needed to have Dalia’s wounds treated, and get the slaves some proper traveling clothes. Arius turned toward the door and saw every Carellian soldier standing at attention. Each man gave a formal salute as he passed. He had begun to find his footing as the lord himself, and these warriors were telling him that they could see it.
Terell silently joked, I see you’re done feeling sorry for yourself. For the record, you were being insufferable…but that was the first time I’ve seen the Lord of Exodus since your father fell.
Arius chuckled aloud as they exited the tavern. Much more to come, brother. We have work to do.
Ariel sped up her pace to get beside Arius, wrapping her arm around his. Fate had looked her in the eye, and she could not turn away. She had been selected to serve in a harem because she was naturally submissive, and she felt most fulfilled at the feet of a powerful man. He would, of course, marry some noble lady and produce heirs; but if he was to have many slaves he would need a ‘first,’ a shi-ka. She had seen enough of him to know that she wanted that honor. Ariel said, “I thank you, Master, for your gift of five years to repay your kindness. I eagerly await your use of me.” Her eyes made him want to pull her into an alley right there.
They made a brief stop near the docks to buy traveling clothes for the slaves. The thin, revealing dresses they’d worn to attract customers had no place on a ship; and were replaced with simple trousers, boots and tunics. Dalia’s wounds were treated by the ship’s healer and soon she was resting in comfort. That night, they departed Alla’na for the fortnight’s journey to the shores of Exodus.
Arius took advantage of the time to educate his new slaves regarding Carellian laws and customs; that slaves had many protections under the law, and could always appeal to the courts for protection from neglect or abuse. They were amazed to have a choice as to whether their bodies would be used for pleasure.
They had all been well trained and educated, and could live out their contracts quite comfortably as scribes or servants if they chose. One normally wouldn’t pay so much for a labor slave, but considering the circumstances Arius considered it a random act of kindness. These girls had gone from luxury to filth, through no fault of their own, and fortune had brought them into his path.
The slaves had expected to be used by the crew, but this was the Exodan flagship. Sex aboard ship was considered horribly uncivilized by Carellians, unless one had enough to share with everyone. Arius could simply make an exception as lord, and he was tempted, but he would not begin his reign under such a tone. He also would not see them used as common whores, at least not before they had a say in it, and found himself deflecting advances from Ariel and Dalia. They were both spirited, beautiful, sexual creatures; and he knew he would take one of them as his shi-ka. Visions of Ariel's eyes haunted him as he slept alone in his cabin.
The girls had time to consider their options, and Arius put no pressure on them. Terell spent much of the journey playing his lute, painting vivid landscapes of Carellian life in their minds through his music and arts. It was a peaceful journey, but that ended on the shores of Exodus.
The body of Lord Garold was nearly home. The journey from Gull's Port to the City of Exodus was a solemn two day precession, with the slaves in one of many carriages and Arius at the vanguard in full armor; along with those men closest to himself and his father.
Lord Garold was loved and respected by his people, and they had come out in hordes to pay homage. Once they neared the city, it seemed to the slaves that the entire kingdom lined the streets. The city was immense to them, larger than the Saragan capitol of Din’as. They stared, agape, out the carriage windows. A grand promenade leading past a massive basalt castle was lined with soldiers in gleaming armor, behind whom countless citizens cheered. These people truly loved their rulers, a sight uncommon in Saragas.
Garold’s body would be laid in state in the audience chamber of Castle Exodus until the arrival of King Tirol and his internment in the crypt. The fallen lord’s slaves were awaiting his casket in the audience chamber. In keeping with tradition, at least one of the three would be with him every moment until his crypt was sealed.
Roland, the castle’s chief steward, had kept the house in good order as usual. There was a mountainous backlog of official business awaiting Arius, but he needed to stave it off one more day while he got his bearings.
The girls were taken to a plush sleeping chamber where a meal was set out on a low table in the center of the room. Silken pillows of all sizes lined the floor, and each wall had a door. Carellian chamber slaves lived quite well, and the girls enjoyed the best meal they’d seen since leaving their former master’s estate. They were given short, simple robes and their traveling clothes were sent off to the washroom.
After a while, Arius arrived along with Kiara, his father’s shi-ka. She had served Garold at will, able to claim freedom any time she liked, and would have a place in the House of Exodus until she chose otherwise. With Garold’s death she would no longer be its first slave. As tradition dictated, she would ensure that her successor was able.
Only Ariel and Dalia chose to serve as chamber slaves, but that suited Arius well. The other girls were a tad young for his tastes these days, and he was happy enough to have snatched them from life on their backs at the Laughing Dog. He might sell their contracts eventually, but for the moment they had safe haven behind his walls and would always be protected by Carellian law.
Arius locked plain collars around the necks of Tamar, Suni and Rhiel before Kiara led them to simpler quarters nearby. When Kiara returned, both Ariel and Dalia wore the engraved silver collars of chamber slaves. Arius sent Dalia to the healer’s ward with Kiara, for a final treatment of the wounds on her back. The lashes would scar without treatment from a master healer.
Arius led Ariel through a door into the slave’s baths. The room was lined with the same basalt as the rest of the castle, with two large pools that looked cut from a single massive slab. Stone benches surrounded the pools, and lanterns lit the dim chamber. The air was thick with steam, and the stones were warm beneath her feet. Arius rested his hands on her hips from behind, pulling her close, whispering, “I believe a full inspection of my property is long overdue.” His breath was cool on her neck, quickening her heart.
Pulling open her robe, she said, “Long overdue indeed, Master…but I fear I am barely presentable. I’ve not seen a bath or a razor for weeks.”
Arius grinned. “Fear not, we’ll have that sorted out shortly.” Every night on the ship, Ariel had masturbated in silence to the thought of this moment. She’d played out the scene from the tavern a thousand times in her mind...how easily he’d picked her up off his lap, imagining those arms holding her, wishing he’d used her right there. She couldn’t get over how comfortable it felt to be in his thrall; as if a part of her had already determined she’d belonged to him all along.
After the voyage she felt anything but attractive, and had hoped to clean herself up before his first use, but this only made her feel more desired. A Saragan noble would never consider lowering himself to bathing his slave, and it seemed she did indeed have much to learn of her new home. Master wanted her, from tangled hair to stubbly legs, and that made her feel gorgeous.
Arius would likely use Dalia sometime later that night, and the thought didn’t bother her in the slightest. In this moment she could fool herself into believing he was entirely hers. In the harems of Saragas, when the girls daydreamed of what an ideal master might be, this was the kind of man they imagined. Here, alone with him, she could think of nothing but pleasing her new master; not out of duty, but sheer desire.
Ariel asked, “May I help you out of your clothes, Master?” Arius nodded and she began by removing his boots, standing to unbutton his shirt. She caressed his chest and shoulders, feeling the warrior’s muscles beneath the fabric. She smiled as his shirt parted, seeing just enough hair to make him look like a man. Her fingers traced the map of scars on his body, as she imagined that each was the result of some heroic deed. When she asked why they had not fully healed he just laughed and said he couldn't drag proper healers everywhere.
Ariel folded his shirt, placing it on a bench next to his boots, turning her attention to his trousers. His thick cock sprung free, half hard, and she couldn’t resist giving it a kiss while he stepped out of the last of his clothes. After folding the last of their clothes, she returned to kneel at her new master’s feet. “Your slave eagerly awaits your inspection, Master.” He instructed her to rise, taking her hand and leading her into the pool. His eyes pierced her, but she did not resist; laying her soul bare to let him perceive whatever he might.
Arius led her to the waist-deep center of the pool. Before she knew it, the powerful hands from her fantasies were soaping her responsive flesh. Ariel closed her eyes as he washed her hair, the sensation of his fingers on her scalp nudging her off into a blissful haze. As he rinsed her with a pitcher filled from the pool, Ariel pictured all of her former life being washed away with the filth of their voyage.
The pitcher set aside, Arius slipped his hand between her legs, whispering, “Before we leave this room I will know every inch of this body, slave.” She leaned into him, reveling in hard flesh pressing into her back, the fragrance of the soap still filling her nostrils. His fingers teased her, caressing her lips without ever parting them. She cringed as his fingers caught on stubble.
“Please, Master,” she said, “allow me to shave myself.” He turned her around, lifting her in the air. Ariel wrapped her legs around him, holding on tight, aching to have him inside her; but a good slave would always wait on her master’s pleasure unless instructed otherwise. Arius carried her to the edge of the pool, sitting her on the warm stone, reaching for a shaving kit beside the pool. Her pulse quickened when he prepared a cup of lather, as she realized he intended to shave her himself. “Master should not perform such a menial task,” she said.
Arius chuckled. “Nonsense. What better way to examine my property?” She could think of several, but remained silent. She lay back, propped up on her elbows, legs wide, feeling pampered, content, and more aroused than she could remember. He used a soft brush to cover her legs in shaving foam then turned his attention between them, rewarded with a small squeal as the bristles tickled her clit. His eyes devoured her, keeping her gaze while the brush taunted her swollen lips. Ariel’s new master was a tease, and she was thrilled.
“Sit up,” he said, “and put your hands over your head.” Ariel obeyed and he stepped closer, the head of his cock pressing into her slick mound. He leaned in to taste each of her nipples before kissing a trail to her ear, drawing back just as she tried to kiss him. She begged him with her eyes, but dared not lower her hands lest she invite punishment. Arius lathered beneath her arms then began the task of shaving her. She could hear her heart pounding as the razor gently scraped her flesh. Done under her arms, Arius set the razor to the side and finally allowed her to taste his lips. A soft moan escaped her as their tongues danced for a lingering moment.
Arius instructed her to lay back, which she did with a whine and a pout. He was taking the time to seduce her, though as Master he had no need to do so. Regardless, she was already under his spell. Ariel lay flat on the stone, unable to resist playing with her nipples, hoping he would allow her to continue. He just smiled, returning to the razor. She yearned to slip a hand between her legs, pinching her nipples just for the distraction. The heat, the razor waking every nerve in her skin, the intensity on his face as shaved and inspected her…she wanted to beg him for release, but stayed silent and pinched harder.
Soon Ariel’s legs were smooth, and the slave felt a finger slip inside her. Arching her back with a wanton moan, she squirmed on the stone. His finger slid upwards, passing her clit in a whisper of ecstasy, hooking beneath her hood, pulling the flesh taught so the razor wouldn’t cut. A few more brief moments and the slave's entire body was smooth. Her master filled the water pitcher, and again slipped a finger inside her. She had been too close to coming for longer than she could stand.
Able to take no more, the slave pleaded, “Please, Master, please let me come.” In a flash, another finger was inside her and his thumb found her clit. She arched her back again, thrashing on the stone. The rush of warm water cascading over her was more than she could take. Her cries filled the chamber, echoing into a symphony, while the slave lay quivering in rapture on the floor.
She said, “Thank you, Master.” Her finger toyed with her collar as a silly smile crept across her face.
He whispered, “Let this be a lesson, slave. I take very good care of my playthings, and you may be surprised what you can get simply by begging for it. In fact, I suspect there may be another climax in there for you.” Arius knelt in the pool and ran his tongue up her slit, exploring every sweet fold of flesh. Ariel panted as he sucked her clit into his mouth, flicking it against his teeth with an agile tongue.
The slave was moaning again, throwing her legs over his shoulders. She arched her back, grinding herself into his face with abandon, feeling the world melt away as she came again, and again. Soon she was senseless with ecstasy, splayed out the floor and adrift in fading climax. Her master hovered over her, propped up on his elbows, letting his cock land on her slit with a thud. She stirred and was greeted by his lips. The taste of her own juices filled her mouth, and her legs wrapped around him.
“Please fuck me, Master,” she begged. “Your slave is not whole without you inside her.”
“Not quite,” he replied with a grin. “We have a matter of business to attend. You are the first slave taken by the new Lord of Exodus. I would be lax if I flaunted tradition by using an undocumented slave.” He brushed back her hair, meeting her gaze with a soft smile. “I swear to you, on the honor of the House of Exodus, that so long as you kneel before me you will live in whatever luxury I provide myself; to be well kept, well protected, and above all well used. In time, should you grow to love me, that love will be returned tenfold; so long as I always retain your absolute, unwavering obedience.” He kissed her, asking, “Do you accept the terms of your service?”
“I do, Master, it is my honor to serve,” she said softly.
“And you honor me with your service, slave,” he replied. Arius stood then took her hands and pulled her upright. Grasping her hair, he tilted her head back and placed a single, gentle kiss on her neck. “Come now,” he said. “You have a contract to sign. If you’re a good girl, you’ll be signing it bent over my desk with my cock buried inside you.”
Ariel threw her arms and legs around him and held him tight as he stood in the pool, burying her face in his chest. In her own heart, she had belonged to him the instant he’d risen to defend Dalia; and every moment since had reinforced what her heart had known: she had found her master, and she would never willingly leave him.
###
About The Author
J.V. Altharas is a veteran entertainer with a filthy, filthy mind. He is an accomplished stage and studio vocalist exploring the realm of erotic audio books after returning his full attention to a life-long love affair with fantasy fiction.
Recent projects include Lady of the Drake, a new erotic fantasy romance from Ravenous Romance, a free erotica website (with text and audio) at TwistedErotica.com and several upcoming erotic audio pieces for Ravenous Romance.
J.V. is also a sex-positive activist and host of the five-star-rated, gleefully explicit, brutally blunt sex-education podcast Ending the Sexual Dark Age.
See more Smashwords titles by J.V. Altharas at Smashwords.com
Lady of the Drake
An Erotic Fantasy Romance by J.V. Altharas
Available Wherever E-Books Are Sold
Lana's village is being consumed by a devastating plague. The last hope for a cure lies in a forbidden forest claimed by dragons.
Deep in the woods she finds a breathtaking realm of sorcery and untamed passion. Alaron, the seductive keeper of the forest, offers what she seeks and more.
She’s swept up in the mysterious keeper’s world of secrets, lust and magic; but the entire kingdom is dying--and there may be no way to save it!
Bitten by Paranormal Romance gives this book 5 stars PLUS a Scorcher Award, saying, “What an imagination! The world of dragons and halfling dragons Altharas created is spectacular…fans of the paranormal romance, fantasy and dragons genres should waste no time in putting this story at the top of their ‘to read’ list.” Read The Full Review.
Read Chapter One FREE at Twisted Erotica
More Free Erotica (Text and Audio!)
Read this story and more original erotic short fiction by J.V. Altharas at http://www.twistederotica.com
Hear the author reading story on his podcast, Ending the Sexual Dark Age.
Connect With Me Online
I’m always happy to hear from listeners, readers and anyone else who feels like dropping me a line about pretty much anything. You’re invited email me at jvaltharas@gmail.com
Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/JVAltharas
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/pages/JV-Altharas/100492053336458
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/JVAltharas
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5303371.J_V_Altharas
About The World of Aeodar
I created Aeodar as the setting for an epic saga of erotic fantasy, whose time hasn’t quite come yet. I decided to spend some time writing shorts and novellas to breathe some life into the realm before publishing the first novel, and this is the first of those stories.
Much more to come.