Amyex's Freedom

by Tamsin Baker

  Evernight Publishing ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2016 Tamsin Baker

  ISBN: 978-1-77233-691-7

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Karyn White

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  AMYEX’S FREEDOM

  Slaves of Electa, 1

  Tamsin Baker

  Copyright © 2016

  Planet Electa

  Year 2245

  From the room beneath the stairs she could see her master. It was only a glimpse, a flash of his blue eyes, strong jaw, and the long jagged scar that ran down one side of his handsome face.

  But it was enough.

  Enough to make her cheeks flush with heat and her whole sex clench with longing.

  She fell back into the darkness, her back to the cold bricks and her cold lonely bed calling to her.

  Oh wow.

  Her hand traveled to her belly, which was tight with need, her pussy tempting her fingers lower.

  For just a moment she gave in to temptation, letting her fingertips move beneath her thin garments to tap gently against the swollen bud at the apex of her thighs. A moan caught in her throat as her aching body thrummed with tension and a quiver coursed through her lean frame.

  “Amyex.”

  Her master’s voice boomed through the walls of her small bedroom as the heavy metal door swung open.

  Her heart leapt into her throat as she swallowed the cry that rose, her hand whipping out of her skirt.

  “Yes, Master?”

  She dropped to her knees on the concrete floor, her head bowed, her hands resting, palms down, on her knees.

  Her heart banged hard against her ribs, his scent engulfing her like an erotic cloud.

  “My request to have you freed has been granted.”

  Oh heavens no, please no.

  Her head flew back and tears burned her eyes as she stared up at the towering man above her. She couldn’t speak. No words came.

  Her master frowned down at her, his strong arms crossing over his chest as he spoke. “I told you I was applying for your freedom. Why the tears, Amyex?”

  His voice was harsh, but then it always was. He was a warrior, a leader, a man she was proud to serve.

  She bit her lip, scared to say the words that would betray her feelings, yet terrified to leave them unspoken. What could be a worse fate than the one he was forcing on her?

  “I do not wish to leave you, Master.”

  Her master put both hands on his lean hips, his gaze hard as he stared down on her.

  She swallowed the lump in her aching throat, the natural movement now awkward and painful as she began to tremble.

  Life without him.

  No.

  “Amyex, you were born into slavery, and you have served me well for the past five years. You deserve the chance to bond with a male, have children of your own, be free.”

  She let her head hang as she struggled to breathe. Slaves could not life bond.

  Their world was split about their slavery laws and still fought over them. Fifty years ago you could own as many slaves as you wanted, and as the owner you could keep and work all of the children produced from such people.

  Twenty-five years ago, just before Amyex’s own birth, the Church of Electa had pushed a member into their council and had the laws changed. A man or woman might own only a limited number of slaves. That was how Amyex had been born a slave. Her mother, a woman she barely remembered and who had died when she was five years old, had been a bound slave.

  It was not what the Church had wanted, they said, but it was the compromise reached by the council.

  It had always been a law that a slave may be freed by their master, but since the rise of the Church, it had finally been put into practice. Most of the slaves she knew would never know a world where they were not a bound slave, but Amyex had been purchased by a man of that Church, and he was determined to free her of her slavery.

  Amyex had only had one other home before her current master, and the older woman she and her mother had belonged to had been cruel, an unpleasant start in an even more unpleasant world.

  Master had saved her from the beatings, the starvation. He’d paid more than he should for someone of her age and training and brought her into his home to serve him. She would do anything for him. Anything except this.

  She opened her mouth to speak, and he grunted, a sign not to go on.

  She snapped shut her mouth and bowed her head, awaiting her next command even as her heart shattered within her chest like a broken vase. Millions of shards slicing through her and pressing against her skin.

  “We have an appointment tomorrow morning for your papers to be returned to you. Please spend this day as you always would, but tonight you may have a long bath and prepare for your life as a free woman.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  What would she do? Where would she live? How would she survive without him?

  A tear slipped down her cheek, and she held back the sob that rose like a bubble to the surface, expanding and pressing, wanting to burst forth from its containment.

  Her master turned on his boot and left her alone to begin her day.

  She stood slowly, wiping at the wetness on her cheeks. Stupidity. Coldness crept into her belly as she forced herself to realize the gift he was giving her. Many slaves died in slavery. She knew of so few who ever made it out of their bondage.

  She was being given a rare gift, and as she dug her sharp finger nails into her palms, she chided herself for not respecting the opportunity she was being given. She could have a life, her own money. She would never answer to anyone ever again, unless she married poorly. Some of the husbands she’d seen could treat their wives worse than their slaves.

  She shook her head and crossed her arms, running her hands up and down her slim biceps to comfort herself.

  The house cook shuffled past her view, and she jumped. It was time to start her day. What was she doing standing around like a mute idiot?

  Her feet propelled her forward as she ran towards the kitchen. First she would serve her master breakfast, then do his washing, clean his home and make sure any additional errands were done. He would, she hoped, always remember her as being a good slave, even if he replaced her, or married.

  A hot flush washed over her face and neck as she picked up his tray and smiled at the cook, a stern older lady who could be kind if you didn’t get in her way.

  “Be quick about it. He likes his tea boiling hot.”

  Amyex knew that, but nodded just the same and took the heavy tray into her arms. This was one of her favorite parts of the day. Serving her master his breakfast in his bedroom.

  She stepped up to the heavy oak door and knocked.

  “Come in.”

  She inhaled sharply and pushed open the door, her belly tight once again as anticipation filled her with warmth and longing.

  She half expected him to be sitting at his desk working, clothed and ready for his day as he’d been when he’d approached her only minutes ago.

  Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes met the vision she’d been secretly hoping for. He had returned to bed for his breakfast, as he always did. His huge chest was bare, a light sprinkling of dark curls covering his wide pecs and trailing down his muscled abdomen.

  Heat
flushed up her neck and down into her pussy. She dropped her gaze to hide her reaction, although she knew if he cared to look it would be there for all the world to see.

  “Thank you.”

  She slid his tray over his lap and kept her eyes down, a tremor running over her body as his breath tickled her neck.

  She jumped back and scuffled out the door, closing it behind her.

  Her heart was racing in her chest, and her legs quivered. His effect on her got stronger with every passing day, and she had no idea how to stop it.

  The doorbell rang, and she jumped to attend it. The day had started, and she had so much to do. She banned herself from even thinking about what tomorrow would bring. It would happen soon enough.

  ****

  The day went quickly, as most days did. She finished every task she was meant to and finished before her meal time. After years of starvation at her first mistress’s home she didn’t possess a huge appetite, but her master demanded she eat and often came to check that she had finished what the cook had made for her.

  She swallowed the last of her animal flesh, a luxury it had taken her many cycles to truly enjoy. The cook walked forward and Amyex began to pack up her plate and get to her feet, but the older woman put a hand on her arm, staying her movement.

  “The master tells me that you leave us tomorrow.”

  Her head fell as the cook’s usually angry expression softened with sadness.

  “Yes, he wishes for me to be free.”

  The cook was a free servant who had her own small home and a husband.

  “Perhaps he will hire you again as his housekeeper.”

  Amyex lifted her head, a glimmer of hope in her heart as she considered the situation, a smile lifting her lips as she stared at the woman in front of her.

  Her shoulders sagged, and she stepped away from the woman’s grasp, still struggling with the feeling of touch.

  She rubbed her hand over the place on her arm where the cook had touched her. It was nice, tingly and comforting in a strange way.

  “I don’t think so. If he wanted me to continue to care for the home, why would he apply for my freedom? He could keep me forever and never again have to pay for me.”

  The cooks face hardened again, but she shrugged. “I am not sure, but our master is an unusual one. I would not doubt him and his plans.”

  “Oh, I do not.”

  She hurried away to her room beneath the stairs, stepping into the darkness and a sigh leaving her now tired body.

  She slipped onto her bed and curled up into a ball, hugging her legs to her body. Her Master had tried to move her into a small bedroom at the back of his home when she’d proven her loyalty and trust, but Amyex could not sleep with light in her room, and the comfort of being in the warmest, most central part of the home was wonderful for her.

  If only he’d keep me.

  She let the hot tears run and the shudders tremble through her body. It was a relief to finally feel the pain of what she was going through. She’d endured so much worse than this, but as she began to choke on air and her throat constricted to a narrow tube, it didn’t feel like it.

  She reached for her blanket and pressed it against her mouth, her nose burning as she struggled to breathe, a gut wrenching sob echoing around the room.

  Footsteps sounded, and her door swung open.

  The shadow of her master cast over her floor like the long stretch of the sun at setting. It reached her feet, which were still tucked beneath her, but her face was hidden in the shadows.

  She held her breath, her lungs burning as she dared not move.

  “Amyex, your bath is ready. Attend my bathroom as soon as you are able.”

  Her head shot up, and she inhaled quickly through her wet nose. Her belly ached and she could barely see through her aching eyes, but her ears had been working surely?

  She dared not speak, but her master nodded as though answering her silent question.

  “Yes, my bathroom. I will attend you myself before bedtime.”

  He turned and walked away.

  Amyex pushed herself to her feet, wiping at her eyes and nose with her hands. He was going to bathe her?

  Several deep breaths shuddered through her, but she calmed quickly.

  She walked out of her room and sniffed the air. The light from the front window warmed her skin as she floated up to his room. Her brain couldn’t seem to process what was about to happen, and she let her slave side move her through the house to do her master’s bidding.

  His bedroom door was open, and she stepped onto the lush carpet and moved forward. It was quiet in the room, and goosebumps rose on her skin. No movement, no running water.

  Where is he?

  The bathroom was heated well, and the warm tiles beneath her bare feet made her gasp with pleasure. She turned as her master’s presence became obvious to her. His huge body filled one corner of the room, his torso naked and his worn leathers hugging his huge thighs.

  He stared directly at her, and her belly tightened with desire. She pressed her thighs together and held her breath, waiting for him to comment on her hot and wet face.

  He didn’t.

  “Step into the bath.”

  She began to strip, her hands shaking as she pushed her skirt down her legs and lifted her thin singlet over her head. The hot climate on their planet made clothes nothing more than a status symbol and for the modesty of the wearer, but as she shed her simple clothes and turned to step into the tub, she was acutely aware of her master’s eyes on her.

  She’d never been naked in front of a man before, and her nipples tightened into little nubs of tingling sensation as she stepped into the warm water and sank beneath the white foam.

  The heat surrounded her body, and her skin burned as though she were being touched from all directions.

  A loud gasp and then a moan escaped her as she settled onto one of the seats by the side of the bath.

  “Feels good?”

  She nodded, keeping her back to her master as she slid her hands over her small, tight breasts. Her nipples ached as she stroked them gently.

  “This will be one of our last moments together as master and slave, Amyex. Please try to answer with words.”

  She twisted and stared at him as he dropped to his knees and picked up a small hand towel to wash her.

  He was serving her, helping her.

  That should be impossible.

  Tears sprang to her eyes, and a lump formed in her throat. She turned away again, coughing to clear her vocal cords.

  He wanted words from her. Speak!

  “Ah, I am sorry, Master. Yes, it … ah does feel nice. Very strange.”

  He chuckled softly, and a shiver coursed down her spine as the sound rolled around her. So rarely had she heard that noise but she flicked through the few memories she had of it. It meant he was very pleased, and now he was making that sound with her and they were alone, which meant that she made him happy.

  Warmth spread through her chest, making her relax against the tub.

  “Can you go under so we can wash your head?”

  “Pardon me, Master?”

  She turned again so she could look at him, the strange request making her frown. What did he mean by that?

  “Hold your breath and go under the water, wet all of your hair.”

  She stared at him. Why would she do that? Her hair was kept clean with the chemical strippings they did to all slaves, but her master seemed to be asking her to clean her hair how he did.

  “Down.”

  He pushed on her shoulder, and she took a deep inhalation of breath and did as she was told, sinking beneath the warmth.

  Water went up her nose, and she pushed up again, spluttering and coughing to rid herself of the unwanted liquid now pushing down into her lungs.

  He chuckled again and wiped at her face with the dry towel.

  “Settle down now.”

  She gulped air and patted her face, trying her best to calm down while her hea
rt beat like a ceremonial drum in her chest.

  “Lie back again.” His roughened hand reached out and touched her wet shoulder, pulling her back until she was once again on the seat.

  She bit her lip as he squeezed gels into her hair and began rubbing them into the shoulder length strands.

  “Your hair is a beautiful color. I’ve never told you that before, but I’ve always thought so.”

  Amyex tried not to gulp as tears prickled her nose and eyes. Her hair was the strangest color of red with shots of yellow and white. No one had ever told her anything other than how strange it was, but she had always secretly liked it. The fact that her master felt the same way about her one distinguishing feature made her want to cry.

  “Thank you, Master.”

  He began to comb her hair, the strange metal comb pulling the tangles out of her hair. She kept her neck as straight as possible, though her scalp prickled with pain and he tugged quite hard.

  “I’m sorry, I’m not meaning to hurt you.”

  “It’s fine. We don’t brush our hair the way the masters do.”

  Silence fell once again, and her master kept brushing, the tangles now removed. His touch, although painful at times, was soothing, healing in a strange way. She would no longer look like a slave, nor dress like one.

  “Well, as a free woman you’ll have to learn how to look like us. Do you have any idea what you would like to do when you receive your freedom tomorrow?”

  Amyex pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them, a strange coldness infiltrating her body despite the hot water that surrounded her.

  “I don’t know. I don’t have any skills other than those of a house slave, so hopefully I will find someone who will take me on.”

  She waited, her ears pricking for her master’s voice. Would he offer her a place within his free servants?

  But no words came, and instead he began tipping water over the back of her hair.

  She tilted her head back and sighed as her eyes closed.

  Heaven, that strange mythical place my old Mistress talked of. This must be what heaven feels like.