Innocent

by Aishling Morgan

  Finally she slept, to wake to bright light and cool air. From the angle at which the sun struck through the skylight she knew it was early, but there was already activity. Yuilla and her friends were gathered at the washing trough, with others waiting at a respectful distance. Two of the older women, who seemed to belong to the house itself, were standing by a great sack, handing what seemed to be some sort of cake to a queue of girls. Beside her Babalyn was stirring.

  ‘I was at home,’ Babalyn said suddenly, ‘in my dreams, in Blue Zoria, on a soft bed, with two of my favourite admirers.’

  She looked near to tears, so Cianna reached out to take her hand, drawing comfort as well as giving it. Babalyn responded with a weak smile, and sat up.

  ‘The nights are always worst,’ she said. ‘In the day I can forget, but at night it comes back. Who I really am. Who I was. Come on, let’s wash, and eat. Who knows, maybe today a shipmaster will be up from the coast, to buy me and eventually I will be wrecked on the Cypraean coast.’

  ‘Sulitea will come for me soon,’ Cianna answered, ‘and when she does, you may come too. We will set you down in Blue Zoria.’

  ‘What could Sulitea do?’ Babalyn asked.

  ‘Summon a demon,’ Cianna answered, ‘to break the walls and bring us free, as easily as you or I would comb our hair.’

  Babalyn laughed, ‘your dreams are wilder than mine! But keep them, all the same.’

  ‘She will come,’ Cianna said confidently, rising to follow Babalyn towards the washing trough.

  As they approached, Yuilla was coming away, and sneered as Cianna and Babalyn passed, making a remark to her friends which caused a ripple of laughter.

  ‘Does she seek to make me fight?’ Cianna asked.

  ‘Not really,’ Babalyn answered, ‘the clerks would not allow anything that might mark us. She seeks to cow you, really, because if you are seen not to be obedient to her it will weaken her authority over the others. Still, she might risk catching you at night, me also, as your friend. She can be cruel without leaving evidence for the clerks to see.’

  ‘You are afraid of her?’

  ‘Of course! She is a vicious, barbarian jungle cat! I am gently bred, Cianna. In Aprinia women do not fight together. It is uncivilised! The Makeans are nothing but brigands, slave takers, savages… Always here I am bullied! Look, Cianna, it is not wise to make friends here, when we are likely to be sold apart, but would you agree, to try and be sold with me?’

  ‘Gladly,’ Cianna replied.

  Babalyn kissed her, suddenly happy.

  ‘You will be my charm,’ she said cheerfully, ‘my defender, and in return I will teach you how this rotten country works.’

  They washed and ate, returning to their places on the bench. At mid morning the first of Ikail’s clients began to drift in. Most were simply looking, browsers, as Babalyn called them, or seeking bargains. Babalyn had seen most before, and made comments on each to Cianna, until a short, balding man in robes of rich green silk appeared on the balcony.

  ‘That is Ikail himself,’ Babalyn whispered. ‘There must be an important client. See.’

  Another man had appeared beside Ikail, tall, lean, with a great hook nose, his hair a pale ash grey against the charcoal of his skin. He wore a robe of the deepest blue, elaborately embroidered in gold, with a number of heavy golden chains around his neck, each displaying a symbol.

  ‘Military, I would guess,’ Babalyn whispered. ‘A retired general perhaps? A good prospect. Straighten up, boobs out, stroke my hair, and chatter playfully. They love the appearance of mindless vanity.’

  ‘He is somewhat old,’ Cianna said doubtfully.

  ‘Old and wealthy, perfect,’ Babalyn answered. ‘We will have nothing to do all day but lounge around and look pretty.’

  ‘Should we flirt?’ Cianna asked. ‘To show interest.’

  ‘It is not necessary,’ Babalyn said. ‘There is no creature more vain than the Makean male. Each thinks himself irresistible to women, no matter that he is ancient, stunted, deformed even. He will take your attraction to him for granted. Merely pose, and if we are called up, be meek, simper a little, and recite your skills in the erotic and culinary arts.’

  Ikail and the client were walking slowly around the balcony, looking down at the slave girls. Occasionally one or the other would pass a comment, while one of the other clerks explained the characteristics of particular girls. As the little group reached the place opposite where Cianna sat, she looked up, smiling, then went back to admiring Babalyn’s crinkly black hair. The men passed on, but a moment later the clerk signalled to them.

  ‘We must stress our virtues as a pair,’ Babalyn said as they hurried up the stairs. ‘We are lovers, right, as when we are made to perform together, real passion is always popular. Say you trained as a concubine as well…’

  ‘A what?’ Cianna demanded.

  ‘A concubine, a girl trained to give men pleasure.’

  ‘We do not do this, in Aegmund. It is…’

  ‘Never mind, just say your are a trained pleasure slave.’

  ‘I…’ Cianna began, but they had reached the balcony, and the tall man was looking at them.

  Babalyn smiled sweetly, taking Cianna’s hand and walking forward with her hips swinging. Cianna tried to imitate her, acutely conscious of her naked body, as both Ikail and the tall man watched her as if her nakedness were of no consequence whatever.

  ‘Here, Elite, ’ the clerk spoke, indicating them, ‘an odd pair, who seem to have taken to one another. The dark girl was of high status in her homeland, one of the Aprina states, and she has all the haughteur of her kind. It would perhaps amuse you to break her? The pale is an oddity, indeed, I at first thought her a hybrid. You two, why are you not kneeling before the Elite Admiral Assivetes?’

  Babalyn knelt immediately, pulling Cianna down with her.

  ‘Peculiar,’ the one addressed as Assivetes said. ‘The pale one is a northland savage, I think. She might do, but I want no arrogant Aprinian girl.’

  ‘I am not arrogant,’ Babalyn said sweetly. ‘I have learnt my place in life, and the worth of Makean men. I am skilled also, in all the erotic arts of Opina. Please take me, great Elite.’

  The man grunted.

  ‘She is well broken in,’ Ikail remarked. ‘She has been some time in Makea and has been taught much. And look at her body. Such breasts are rare, and above a waist so slim, with hips in perfect proportion. Her bottom is no less magnificent. Turn, girl.’

  Babalyn scrambled around immediately, pushing her bottom out for the man’s inspection. Cianna caught her friend’s scent, and found herself blushing at the rudeness of the pose.

  ‘Cunt jewellery, I see,’ Assivetes remarked. ‘Fat lips, and a big clitoris, which always implies passion, big cheeks too, and firm.’

  He had reached down to fondle Babalyn’s bottom, squeezing one cheek, then the other, and giving each a gentle slap. Cianna stayed still, wondering if she was going to see Babalyn fucked, even buggered, in front of her, or if she might get the same herself.

  ‘A pretty anus too,’ Assivetes went on, ‘and perhaps not too loose. So girl, what do you do, other than fuck.’

  ‘I am widely trained,’ Babalyn said, making no move to get up from her exposed position. ‘I can dance, and recite, and serve in all ways.’

  ‘Fair,’ Assivetes said. ‘I am tempted. What of the other one?’

  ‘I am a maid,’ Cianna answered promptly. ‘I cook well, and I sew, while I have some knowledge of animal husbandry…’

  ‘I am no farmer,’ Assivetes laughed. ‘What of erotic arts?’

  ‘Yes,’ Cianna answered uncertainly.

  ‘She is not virgin,’ Ikail supplied, ‘but she is somewhat innocent. How old are you, girl?’

  ‘I have seen seventeen winters,’ Cianna answered.

  ‘And when were you first fucked?’

  ‘Last summer.’

  ‘Barely broken,’ Assivetes said. ‘Let us see her.’

  ‘Le
gs wide,’ Ikail ordered, ‘show the Elite your cunt, and hold up your breasts.’

  Cianna obeyed, blushing furiously, spreading her knees and taking one breast in each hand.

  ‘Good breasts,’ Assivetes remarked, ‘firm and heavy, if not so lush as her Aprinian friend’s. A fine cunt too, and so pale.’

  ‘Never have I seen hair of such a colour,’ Ikail put in, and on her cunt too. ‘is she not fine?’

  ‘Fine, if a little simple,’ Assivetes replied. ‘I don’t know…’

  ‘Her bottom is a joy also,’ Ikail said quickly. ‘Get over, girl.’

  Cianna went, reluctantly adopting the same pose as Babalyn, with her head down and her bottom stuck out and up, showing every rude detail between her cheeks. From behind her Assivetes gave a grunt of appreciation.

  ‘Even her anus is pale,’ Assivetes remarked. ‘Has she been buggered?’

  ‘Last evening, by Claides, the son of the Exquisite Elandor,’ Ikail said. ‘He was most satisfied.’

  ‘No doubt,’ Assivetes replied. ‘Here also I am tempted. She amuses me. She is naïve, a savage, really. Yet the Aprinian has a fatter bottom and is perhaps the better trained.

  ‘Take us both, Elite!’ Babalyn said suddenly. ‘Please! We are lovers. We will perform together for you, with true passion, in any manner that pleases you!’

  ‘We will,’ Cianna agreed. ‘Anything.’

  ‘Silence!’ Ikail ordered. ‘Yet it true what they say, Elite. Would they not make a fine show together? How your guests would envy you!’

  ‘Both?’ Assivetes said. ‘Maybe. The price?’

  ‘A mere two hundred standard,’ Ikail said quickly, ‘for the pair, a price which reflects both your standing as a valued customer and…’

  ‘No,’ Assivetes cut in. ‘It is too much. I value the Aprinian at sixty standard, the savage at forty. Eighty should be a fair price for the pair.’

  ‘Eighty standard?’ Ikail answered. ‘But Elite, as a pair they have more value than separately. They are lovers. Think of the pleasure to be gained in making them whip one another and suchlike sport!’

  Assivetes gave an amused grunt.

  ‘Imagine,’ Ikail went on. ‘You might have one make the other her toilet, or devise a cunning game, so that they are obliged to betray each other into some debased and painful fate. The possibilities are endless!’

  ‘True,’ Assivetes admitted. ‘Very well, a hundred for the pair, which is my last offer.’

  ‘One hundred?’ Ikail said. ‘Ah, so slim a margin, but for you, a customer of long standing, taken.’

  Cianna walked beside Babalyn, through the hot, dusty streets of Ketawa. A collar had been fixed around her neck, Babalyn’s also, and from each a lead led forward, to the hand of fat man in blue robes who had been sent to fetch them from the slave market. He was several paces in front, and ignored them so long as they kept up, which his slow, waddling pace made easy.

  ‘Why is there no guard?’ Cianna whispered after a while. ‘We could jerk the leashes from his hand, then run.’

  ‘You stand out from a thousand paces,’ Babalyn answered. ‘Anyway, slave girls do not do such things, or if they do, they are caught and punished. They have some nasty habits, the Makeans, so believe me, it is best to remain obedient. Besides, where would you run to?’

  Cianna shrugged, realising the sense of what Babalyn was saying, but wanting to do something to reassert her pride. Yet Sulitea had told her to be meek, and it was to Sulitea she owed her loyalty, regardless of circumstance.

  The fat man walked on, through a jumble of street and little squares, to stop at last beside a door set in a high wall. Opening it, he gestured Cianna and Babalyn through, following and locking it behind them. Within was a garden, green and very still after the bustle of the streets. Fruits trees and low palms were spaced out on a lawn, and in a raised pond great golden yellow fish lazed in the shade of water lily leaves. Beyond was the house, of white washed stone and marble, an elegant, airy structure finer than anything she had seen.

  ‘Remain here, kneeling,’ the fat servant ordered, dropping their leads.

  Babalyn obeyed, Cianna still standing as she looked about at the unfamiliar surroundings. The servant disappeared into the house.

  ‘Kneel, Cianna,’ Babalyn insisted. ‘Do you want to be whipped?’

  ‘No,’ Cianna admitted, sinking to her knees, ‘but it is undignified to kneel, save before the high-born to who I owe fealty.’

  ‘You are his slave!’ Babalyn hissed, then went quiet as Assivetes himself stepped from the house.

  He walked over to them, a tiny cup in one hand, from which rose a wisp of steam and a scent unfamiliar to Cianna. As he walked around them, inspecting their bodies, he was smiling.

  ‘A fair bargain,’ he finally said, ‘if you are capable of all you claim. I am a mild enough man, and demand little. Primarily obedience, prompt and without question, to all my commands. For erotic indulgence, I detest both reluctance and modesty. You will enjoy serving my body, and show it.’

  ‘Yes, Elite Master,’ Babalyn answered quickly.

  ‘Yes,’ Cianna agreed.

  ‘You have much to learn,’ he went on, giving Cianna’s bottom a gentle prod with his foot. ‘My title for one thing, which is Elite, and to you, Elite Master. Perhaps you are not fully aware of who I am?’

  ‘No,’ Cianna admitted.

  ‘Very well, so that you may be properly in awe of me, you should know. I am the Admiral Assivetes, who commanded the vanguard of that fleet which drove the Vendjomois back off Cape Jendrine, eighteen years ago now. I have commanded in a dozen other engagements, and served for forty years before returning here, to my estates.’

  Cianna struck her fist on the ground in the traditional Aeg gesture.

  ‘Do you mock me?’ Assivetes demanded.

  ‘No,’ she answered. ‘I am greatly awed, although in Aegmund it is considered beneath a man to boast of his own achievements.’

  For a moment his face clouded with anger, then he laughed, and continued.

  ‘Well, pretty barbarian, you are no longer in Aegmund, wherever that may be. You are in Makea, and my property, so you must learn correct behaviour and proper respect. Where you a slave in this Aegmund?’

  ‘There are no slaves in Aegmund,’ she said.

  ‘No slaves?’ he demanded. ‘How is anything done? No, don’t answer that. I know enough of the Aprinians, with their insufferable superiority. Speaking of Aprinians, I am glad you’ve lost your arrogance, Babalyn. Still, be warned, I will suffer no airs. Now, tonight I entertain. You will assist in waiting on my guests and myself, and afterwards you will perform. I wish passion, but I wish structure as well, so you are to decide upon an arrangement, something on the lines Ikail suggested. Fail to satisfy and you will both be whipped.’

  He turned on his heel without further comment, disappearing inside the house. Cianna got up, Babalyn following suit more cautiously. Nobody was visible, only the fat orange fish and a bird with striking green plumage, perched in one of the trees.

  ‘What are we to do?’ Cianna asked.

  ‘Something cruel, it must be,’ Babalyn answered. ‘Cruel yet subtle…’

  ‘I mean now,’ Cianna broke in.

  ‘Now? Nothing, just sit in the garden and look pretty. This is the way with pleasure slaves. He has not bought us to wear ourselves out scrubbing and polishing. That will come when we are older.’

  ‘We just sit here? All day?’

  ‘No, silly, there will be a courtyard inside, and in the monsoon we are doubtless allowed under cover. You must remember that we are here not only to provide pleasure, but to allow him to display his wealth. To have slaves only for pleasure is a mark of some rank. Doubtless there are others, so remember, we may excite jealousy, especially if we have replaced some older pleasure slave who has now been assigned to the kitchen. Still, what comes will come. For now we must work out this entertainment.’

  ‘We are supposed to play together, sexually?’<
br />
  ‘Naturally.’

  ‘I would be pleased to touch you, Babalyn, in any way you desire, as I do for Sulitea. Yet to perform nude, for men?’

  ‘Women also, but please, Cianna, do not make it hard on us. I cannot bear to be whipped, I am simply too sensitive. I know your people are shy of your bodies, but we must do this, and well.’

  ‘I will do it then, for your sake. What should we do?’

  ‘Ikail suggested a game in which one of us is forced to betray the other, so sparing herself some indignity. They like to do that, especially to girls who are lovers, it affords them no end of amusement, the pigs! It could be simple, like tying us head to toe, side by side, and telling us the first to pee in the other’s face will be let off, the other to be sodomised by all the male guests in turn.’

  ‘That is cruel.’

  ‘They think it funny, and place bets on who will break first.’

  ‘You can spank me, if you wish, even by hand. Seeing me so humiliated should provide enough to slake their lust.’

  ‘No, in Makea a spanked slave girl is too ordinary to arouse more than casual interest. Anyway, I suspect they would rather see me, the Aprinian who was a lady, spanked by you, the barbarian girl, without meaning offence. In any case, it is the idea of being forced to betray our love that really amuses them. Makean stories are full of the theme of betrayed loyalty. Fortunately we are not really lovers… not that I do not like you, but…’

  ‘I understand. There is no formal bond of loyalty. I owe you no fealty.’

  ‘No, so it should be easier than they imagine. Speaking of which, be affectionate, stroke my hair or skin occasionally. I have no wish to be sent back to Ikail’s. Not that it is likely, but still.’

  Cianna nodded and reached out to trace a slow line down the curve of one of Babalyn’s big breasts, ending just short of the nipple. Babalyn gave a little shiver and glanced up to the house.

  ‘Careful,’ she said, ‘or you will make it real. Now, as to our show. Assivetes wants passion and betrayal. There are sure to be women there, and for some reason they love to break slave girls’ affection for one another. What of this? During the meal, I will feign a fancy for one or another of the women. You grow angry, and punish me, a spanking will do, after which you make me lick you. I then ask the woman to have you spanked in turn. Can you manage that?’