The Slave Princess Chapter 6

Back to Chapter 5

 

Three teams of messengers had been sent out.  Each had a soldier and two of the Salam-Dir protector teams on horseback.  With the rain and unknown machinations from Rosemond, each set of messengers had the same messages to go to the same people, but were going different routes.

It took a week, but the first of the messenger teams came back, all messages delivered and supplies purchased.  Nothing was reported back publicly to commanders or nobles or the King as nothing had really been amiss on the journey.  The messengers had a few boxes of supplies that had been purchased for the kitchens. Disa took the tea and oil with her back to the kitchen, a smile on her face.

Lady Beatia had sent just one message back with the first team to contact her.  Laun was able to read the message before Selene was presented it and found that the noble Lady was far more understanding than she thought she would be.  Selene was not disowned.  Beatia thanked her daughter for telling her where she had gotten to, and that she was safe with the King.  She did say that if Selene did not get back to their home before the season was over, there would be consequences, but those were not listed.

Selene and Lin had taken over one of the tents in the troupe’s wooded area for several days and both seemed happy as they emerged.  The young noble seemed to have shed her upbringing in more than her clothing.  The troupe accepted her into them and the two seemed inseparable, for the moment. »Read More

The Slave Princess Chapter 5

Back to chapter 4

 

Laun’s eyes were open and looking at the beams in the ceiling of the room.  The night lamp was putting out just a little more light than the morning light through the windows.  She moved and Edgar’s arm flexed around her, the sleepy movement making her feel loved and secure.

There were other people in the room, all on the lower mats.  She could hear breathing and could not ignore the snore of Fount.  Laun was not sure how to think about Fount right then.  He had brought yet another of the women from the troupe into the room and into her bed.  That was not unusual, but he seemed...  Put off by her that night.

Edgar had been wonderful.  His skills and tenderness had brought out more than pleasure.  She had found herself at her peak, her body releasing as he took her from behind and then she was crying into the bedding, releasing the frustrations of the day.  As other bodies were moving around them, Edgar had held her, their low whispers about the meeting leading her to talk to Edgar about Hunter.  Laun asked if they could talk about the older brother of Fount in the daylight, but Edgar’s rumble made it clear that he wanted to talk about anything that troubled her right then.

Laun had looked into Edgars eyes and had told him that without he and Fount, she had needed others, and at the Manor, one of those had been Hunter.  Edgar had a troubled expression and Laun wanted to tell him that he was not replaced by Hunter.  Edgar had kissed her deeply and held her and rumbled into her ear that he knew that.  He had been concerned about her while she was gone and was glad she had been well taken care of.  It had been the rumors that Hunter had given up his post for her that concerned him. »Read More

The Pink Tax in Kink

The Pink Tax in Kink

October is here, the pink lights are lighting the way through the pink streets with the pink tools being used to garden in the pink yards…

What it meant is not what it has become. And the ‘Save The Boobies’ mantra does not make it better.
As a Female Dominant, I have had both an uphill battle and an easy glide through the levels of the Kink community over the years. There is a pressured need to prove, physically, emotionally, and especially in the role-play, with potential submissives. The need to have The Image from the first time I am seen, and continue that throughout a session, or relationship. And that Image is easy to hide behind, but hard to pull away from. It is tiring.
Don’t get me wrong, I love leather. And lace. And rope. And most things that are not of the main stream. But it is also a form of pidgin holing that has been consistent even as other things in the Kink community becomes more open. And Equal.

And less dipped in Black Leather.

Kinky things in pink

A selection of pink kinky implements, including a pink polka dot paddle, pink handcuffs and a pink star shaped crop.

»Read More

a body beside me

A body beside me

The twilite of the bedroom 

A warm hand slides under the covers

Sleep catches on the edge of the mind

The hand explores, tentatively, slowly

Meeting the softness, the verge towards the slick

A body moves to be closer

The warmth of another changes as they move

There is a pause, the covers pulled away

A kiss on skin

Becomes more

Heat is breathed out, a shivering cool as the breath goes in

Gasp

Head pushed back into the bedding

Hair on the top of the head has fingers through it

It is a tongue, but the promise of more

Changes the feeling, the flow 

The hair is held, directing

There

and There

As breath is held

Fingers explore

Then tightness and moan and shifting and and and

The unseen flashes of light from within

Eyes seeing into the dark

The ripples fast and then slowing

Breathing deep and gasping and shallow and caught in the throat

The covers pulled over and up as a body moves in the night

An urgency

A need

A Want

And a question

a pause that almost hurts

and an answer

You may Cum.

The Slave Princess Chapter 4

Back to chapter 3 - Tribute

There was relief on several faces in the steamy Great Hall as Hunter carried Laun in from the storm.  They both had blankets around them and warmed honeyed wine in their hands as room was made at one of the benches.

Laun was not going to argue with Disa as her maid stood over her to make sure Laun drank what she was given.  It did taste good and warmed her core as the wool blanket first sucked up the water from her and then warmed with the steam created from her body, relaxing her back and legs.

The rain outside was leveling off to a steady rate after the first of the storm had pushed through.  They had been able to prepare, but the mud was still up to the knees on some people in the courtyards, not quite that far on Hunter.  He had carried Laun most of the way from Hellon’s Hill, against Laun’s wishes at first.  It meant that he was coated with the splash and mud up past the top of his breeches.

Disa, taking the emptied mugs, looked at the mud on the legs sticking out from under the blanket wrapped around Hunter.  Laun caught the look right before Disa handed off the mugs to another kitchen staff.

“You need to strip.”  Disa had been practicing her Matron stare and even Laun cringed as Orgia’s second crossed her arms while waiting for the large man to do as she said.

Hunter looked at Laun.  She nodded and said, “She means it.  I wouldn’t go against her.”

The boots were slick but finally came off.  The blanket hardly covered his bare chest and he looked around as he tried to hold the blanket over his shoulders and undo his breeches at the same time.  Laun started to giggle and knew that she was going to need to strip down, too.  She was not as muddy, but the few layers she had on were almost transparent from the rain. »Read More

The Slave Princess Chapter 3

Back to Chapter 2

There were storms on the Western horizon when the gathered people woke.  Everyone on the grounds saw it coming and brought what could be into the keep and tied down everything else.

The first night had only one major thing that happened within the gathered people.  The two soldiers who had found a small stash of ale and had drained it were now regretting starting a fight, as they were hauling wheel barrows full of human waste to one of the far crap pits under the eye of a protector team.

The winds started to pick up, cooling the land and the people but telling everyone that it was going to be a hard storm.  It was cool enough that the archers still stationed on the walkway at the top of the keep were wearing capes against the weather.  They could hear the swearing of the soldiers as they were being loaded with their third load of crap from the privy in the keep.

Laun was walking through the paths in Hellon’s Hill to make sure nothing was left behind from the revelries the night before.  She could hear the swearing of the soldiers as they were being led down the road and smiled.  She had held the usual morning gathering in the Great Hall, more people pushed into the room than she had ever seen.  The fight was brought up, the soldiers standing at parade rest in the moving mass of the meeting.  Falmir was going to break their rank.  The Captain was just going to have them work in the mess kitchen.  Laun leaned over and whispered to Dreng who smiled and nodded.  Those of the household waited for Laun to speak, seeing the slightly wicked look, and when Falmir heard of the punishment, he roared with laughter. »Read More

The Slave Princess Chapter 2

Back to chapter 1 - Start at the beginning of the series with Chapter one of The Slave Warrior.

 

It was still sticky.  The crowd of people made it hot in the Great Hall, but the celebration was more than just a welcome feast.  It was a needed show that the Hawkwell family, once divided by many things, was now together and standing at each other’s backs.

There were too many people.  The Great Hall was not large enough for those who had been there before Laun had come back.  With over two hundred more people, it was the nobles and top officers and a few entertainers that wedged themselves into the stone and beam room.

A calf had been roasted in hunks, plattered and passed with as much ceremony as the household ever was able to do.  Fine breads were tossed from the head table as wheaten largesse.  Sweetened tea was had by most, cider and ale by a few.  It was a fine feast inside the Great Hall.

About an hour in, Laun excused herself from Falmir’s side and kissed Dreng’s head on the way past, putting her fingertips on the cheek with the scar.  She touched the shoulders of many of those seated, some for the first time.  She worked her way through the crowd until she was at the door to the courtyard.

It was cooler, even though the night winds were not licking down into the walls as Laun would have liked.  There were a few people in the stables, a smile for their Lady as she paused to wave to them.  Laun saw people along the roads, getting some of the night air, and talking.  She started to walk towards the soldier’s encampment, a few people asking if they could walk with her as she went.

Her sandals let through most of the heat of the road, reminding her of her first walk from the safety of Salam-Dir, but the thin leather did protect her from the stones that were lying in wait.  She had on more layers than she really wanted, but the skirt and tunic were both very light and let through most of the cool air pushed down the slopes of the old volcano.  She even had let Disa put up her hair to show off her Aunt’s crown, but had refused any coloring on her face.

She was on the arm of one of the nobles that had come with Falmir, one of Dougals men on the other side.  A Private was behind her on the right and one of the women protectors was on her left.  A good selection of who was in the household right then.  Several soldiers along the outskirts of the camp stood and saluted as Laun and her escort approached.  She stopped a few yards away and saluted, asking, “May I enter?”

“Yes, Ma’am.  Do you need directions or escort?” »Read More

The Slave Princess Chapter 1

The scout yelled at the top of his lungs as he came into the Great Hall, “They are an hour away!”

There was little time to do anything else but make sure the bread wasn’t burned and check on the archers on the walkway.  Laun wasn’t going to do either of those.

Laun Dresden, Lady of Salam-Dir, was handing a stack of paper and parchment to Geralk to clear the head table as Orgia looked with a disapproving eye at them from the kitchens’ door.  Laun had wanted to have a meeting with the people who could give input, but it was going to have to wait, and Laun was going to have to play the next few hours by ear.  She was used to that, but it would have been nice to get solid information and some opinions before Falmir had arrived.

She actually missed Falmir.  She was scared shitless to what was going to happen once he found that she had been harboring his father, her grandfather, at the Salam-Dir keep.  Falmir had created a coup backed by the neighboring Kingdom of Rosemond just over a year before and Laun had been a thorn in Falmir’s side ever since.  King Dreng was a big hurdle, but not the only one with the first visit King Falmir was having to Salam-Dir.

Laun pushed herself up off the bench and settled her tunic around her growing belly.  She had been woken far earlier than usual by the babies in her belly seemingly to dance along her ribcage, and on her bladder.  The trip to and from the privy that morning had been a welcome familiarity and had made the last few days seem more real than the last few months.  Going back to bed in the morning dim was well worth being woken by the babies.

Having been kidnapped had not been as pleasant.  Especially when it had been by someone she had trusted in her bed and with her sword.  But he had taken the ransom Falmir had offered and had bought enough supplies and hired enough men to help keep the Salam-Dir lands impenetrable while Laun had wormed her way through the political scene in the Palace, and into Falmir’s heart. »Read More

Archives to the gut

It had been on my 'to do' list for a while.  Go through my documents folder and move things that were years old into an archive.  Time to clean was far past.  It was time to purge.

 

And then it was time to not freak out.

 

I hadn't exactly forgotten.  I just didn't want to remember.  While figuring out what was going to go where, I came across it.  A letter.  It had been written on my computer, by you.  It had been to someone else, who we both knew.  At a time that relationships were in flux - no.  Not Flux.  Uproar. Chaos.  Outright Violation.

It had been in amongst the correspondence for one of the endeavors we had tried together.  The shreds of ambition in virtual form.  The ideas the two of us had been bouncing off each other, before the tear that sent us on our separate, but linking, paths.  It was vaguely labeled, and, as with all the documents I was shuffling around that day, I opened it to make sure of what it was before putting it into the archival oubliette.

Him.  It was a revision of a letter you sent to Him.  You had not cleaned it off my computer, and it had followed me through data transfers for... years.  Sitting there.  An emotional mine amongst the financials.  I had not purposely thought of Him for years.  It had taken Years to not have him pop out of the back of my brain, fouling that which I had been enjoying.  And this was...  I am looking at it now, and I know more than you ever told me.

You Never Told Me.

The pinpricks started up my spine as soon as I opened the file.  His name...  No, the name he made you use in the scenes that rent us apart.  The name I refused to call him because he was *That* kind of Dom.  That kind of Master that took.  That was all he did.  I did not know how much he took from those he plied his wiles on, but I could tell, because he was the type, like the one who I walked away from, barefoot and clothed in the bathrobe I had taken from the pile of clothes by the door, leaving behind what I thought I was.  His demeanor, even to those who also led the clubs and gatherings, was always demeaning.  He never outwardly showed any compassion, and sympathy, any... anything but malice towards other people.

And you submitted to Him.

I knew you...  I thought I knew you and your wonts and your tastes.  And then, in the middle of a scene at a play party, he came into our space and took you.  He. Took. You.  Slick with sweat, marked by my signal whip and rope, you stepped out of our scene and knelt to him.  Not to co-Dom.  To submit to him.  You said the name He wanted you to use.  You bowed your head.  YOU broke yourself.

For Him.

I was stunned.  I tried to pull you back.  That was the only time he touched me, and the slap to my chest, pushing me out of the way, broke me.

Heated words when you came up for air, several weeks later, made it clear you were not who I thought you were.  That what we had had been a stepping stone in your life, not the beginnings of a foundation that I thought it was.  Many of the ideas I had about you, about us, were flayed from my mind, cut by cut as you retrieved things you had left at my place.

Not everything.

My heart aches.  My hands are clutched in fists.  I cannot see because of the painful tears that are failing to flow down my face.  I feel as though all the hurtful things that happened years ago were happening.  The cuts of glass from the picture I had in my mind as it shattered.

Reading the letter, again, you told Him that you were not sure if you could go through with... things.  That you were not sure what He meant by what He said.  Uncertainty of actions.  Of hurting... me.

But you Had gone through with it.  You Had hurt me.  For Him.  For the scene.

I looked at it, one more time.  That anger, that hate, that betrayal.  There is nothing to get over when there has been such great damage.

I considered dragging the missive into the trash, emptying it out of my computer and life.  But...  It was part of my life, even as a dark part.  I put it into the old correspondence archive, to be saved for...  I don't know.  But right now, I am certain of one thing.

I hope his cock was worth it.

The Slave Lady Chapter 55

Back to Chapter 54

Nan’s baby was beautiful.  Laun broke down and bawled as Jake handed him to her. Only three days old, a light brown hair patch and eyes that could turn any color squinting and blinking at her from within the swaddling.

Nan was asleep in the birthing bed.  She was pale and Kell had started immediately talking with Pillar and Lutaris.  Blood loss had been a problem and they were not sure if she would pull through.

Her own babies started to kick and Laun felt her halter being soaked with what was coming out at the small cry from the baby in her arms.  It took a while for Laun to be able to speak as she sat with the first of the Salam-Dir babies in her arms.

“Has a name been chosen?”

Jake nodded.  “Nan wanted Tiss.  I was thinking Kell, but there are already several in the household.”

“Everyone wants to be named for a hero.”  Laun motioned to the healer.  “Even women.”  Laun kissed the baby on the nose and smiled at the slight wiggle he did. »Read More

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