The Slave Harem: A Kingdom of Slaves Book
Page 1
The Slave Harem
by
Wendy Rathbone
THE SLAVE HAREM
Copyright © 2019
A publication by:
Eye Scry Publications
www.eyescrypublications.com
Cover design: Wendy Rathbone
ISBN:
© All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced wholly or in part without prior written permission from the publisher and author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages. Neither may any section of this book be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or other, without prior written permission from the author, except as exempted by legitimate purchase through the author's website, Amazon.com or other authorized retailer.
Piracy ruins lives.
This book is legally copyrighted © and MAY NOT be uploaded to any electronic storage center, website, or other such device/location. Period. End of argument. We are a small, independent company – if you upload this book to an illegal download site, you are robbing my family and my cats and dogs, who really do need to eat. You know better. Please don't do it!
For Della, as always…
Kingdom of Slaves Background
The Kingdom of Slaves series of standalone novels is set in a contemporary, fantasy version of Earth, present day, where the selling and owning of pleasure slaves is legal in most countries.
Avilan is the largest and wealthiest country in the contemporary world and one of its top commodities is the selling of pleasure slaves both within its own borders, and to other countries. Avilan hosts three hundred slave training quarters called Slave Palaces.
While anyone may own a pleasure slave, only the truly wealthy can afford Palace trained slaves.
The Palaces thoroughly vet their buyers as well, and try to match the proper slave to the proper master.
But sometimes an offer comes that cannot be refused—the money is just that good—and a slave is sold to unknown realms...
Part One
Chapter One
The Training of Ren
Ren shivered. His vision blurred. He was rain-soaked through and through.
All day he had been walking. The pain in his muscles threatened to drop him. He concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Dark locks of hair stung his eyes. His chest ached and every breath he took tore at his throat.
His blue sweater—more gray now—hung from his starved frame in a hundred unraveled strings.
It had taken him two weeks to get to Lirangel. Walking. Hitchhiking. Begging bus fare. There were days he did not make any headway at all. Now, he had no more money. No more strength.
But just ahead, finally, there it was. He saw the Palace glinting silver and blue, reflecting the rainy day. The black iron gate soared twenty feet high.
The last mile had been all uphill to reach that gate. He had to push himself harder with every step.
The grass about him smelled of newly turned earth, the green of it lush as hope. Everything was hope or pain, beauty or chaos depending on how one looked at the world.
What kept Ren going was something one of his high school teachers had told him after his parents had died. After the horrible car wreck.
It’s all interconnected. Nothing dies. There is only infinite change. Remember that. You choose how you want to walk through this world. How you want to experience it.
The Lirangel Slave Place was the best in the world. It was why he’d come here. He wanted the best to teach him how to be a slave. A pleasure slave. If they took him in, he could hide for the rest of his life. He would sign the consent forms and never again have to make a decision, or a choice. All would be out of his hands. The thought comforted him.
His teacher might be disappointed to see him now. To learn that his choice was to walk his life as an owned being, taking no responsibility for himself. But a part of him had died when his parents had died. It would never waken again.
What was left of him needed form and guidance. If it involved his body and sex, he didn’t mind. Whatever was left of him, he wanted to open all the way to it, give himself over with all control to a master, his master.
It sounded strange even to his own mind. Hell, maybe he had lost his mind.
But now he was here. The black gate stood before him. Raindrops clung to the metal, making it look shiny, newly polished. The cross-bars dripped. They were icy against the palms of Ren’s hands as he curled his fingers about them to steady himself. He was not sure how much longer he would be able to stay upright.
The uniformed guards beyond the double gate frowned at his rumpled, thin form.
Ren’s voice cracked and broke as he let his wish be known to the intimidating strangers. “Please. Let me in. I want to be trained. I’m willing. Please.”
One of the guards spoke softly into some invisible microphone. He had a wire coming up from his collar attached to an ear bud.
He stared at Ren without a word, unmoving. A few of the others wandered toward a kiosk to the left side of the gate.
The first guard kept staring.
“Please,” Ren said. “I’m so tired. If I could just come in and rest for a moment. And if they don’t want me, then I’ll be off. I promise.”
The guard’s eyebrows narrowed. He did not move.
“Did you hear me?” Ren coughed and his whole body shook with the pain.
Finally, the guard spoke. “Hush. Someone is coming.”
Ren tried to see past the front path that led upward. He saw the top part of the palace, its upper floor windows and two fancy towers, but not the front entrance. The hill of the pathway blocked it. Beyond the towers was a steep green hill covered with oak trees, and above that the darkening steel sky.
It seemed he waited forever. He’d not felt the cold all day. His fever and the walking kept him overly warm. But now he shivered as a chilled breeze rippled his damp clothes. It felt as if icy fingers had found their way to his bones and squeezed.
Finally, just as he had the thought that he might like to sit on the wet pathway, or collapse on the damp, freezing grass, a man all in black came down the path from the direction of the palace.
Ren watched him, how he walked with a kind of grace and purpose, head up, hands relaxed at his sides. He had neat, dark hair combed straight back, and a firm nose and jaw. As he got closer, Ren saw dark eyes hard around the edges, but he had a kind mouth. An assessing gaze and demeanor.
This was a master, no doubt about it.
Ren took a shallow breath, trying to hold back another coughing fit.
The master made a swiping hand motion to the guard, who came forward and punched in a code on a box by the gate. Suddenly, the hinges creaked and the gate opened inward by itself.
Ren let go of the crossbars and stood back.
The master came out past the border of the grounds and stood directly in front of Ren.
Ren blinked, trying to clear his mind and his vision. With the last of his strength, he looked the master in the eye.
“I’m here to train,” he said.
The master put his hand on Ren’s chin, looked him up and down and said, “Maybe.”
Ren held his breath and waited. He was handsome. He knew it. But the trip had taken its toll. He had to look his worst right now. But there was nothing he could do about that.
“You are ill,” the master said. “But I can see your beauty still. Are you running from the law?”
“No, sir.”
Ren was surprised the man could see anything of his true looks behind his filth and rags and raging fever.
The m
aster asked. “How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
“Ah, too young, then.”
“I’ll be eighteen in May,” Ren insisted.
“Do you understand the nature of what it is you ask?”
“Yes.”
“Why do you want to come through this gate?”
“I wish to be owned.”
“Hmm. Have you any experience with being submissive? Do you even have a sexual orientation yet?”
For as long as he could remember, Ren had a sexual orientation. “Male, sir. No experience but my own thoughts concerning what I desire.”
“You are still too young.”
“Not for long.”
The master allowed a soft smile to tease his kind mouth.
“Do you understand that your rights will be revoked? That you will be property?”
“I know.”
“You will go through a thorough physical and psychological work up. If you do not pass, you will be sent away.”
“I will allow it.”
“If you pass the preliminary tests, you will be required to be physically trained in all the sexual arts. The training is hands on.”
“Yes, I understand.” Ren shuddered, but not from the idea of physical sex training. Simply, he needed this to be over. He needed to get himself inside, beyond the gates, locked away forever until he was sold to an owner who, hopefully, would keep him on a tight leash. Then maybe he could relax.
“You may enter,” the master said. He swung his right arm wide.
Ren had to focus on each step he took, his legs growing heavy, his mind spinning.
In the post-storm gray mist, the shimmering gates closed behind them with a loud clang.
Finally!
Ren turned as the master came up alongside him. “Sir,” he gasped, reaching out blindly.
He felt the master’s hands suddenly clasp his upper arms, holding him up.
“Guard! A little help here!”
But it was too late. Ren collapsed into the master’s embrace.
*
A long time later, Ren woke in the Slave Palace hospital to learn he had pneumonia.
He had been in bed for two weeks. Much of that time was lost to him in fever.
After the fever broke, he began to notice auras around people and things. In all his life, he’d never seen such color in the world before.
Faint light waved at him wherever he looked, as if the universe was communicating itself all around him in multi-colored glimmers, halos, and spirals of energy that came and went without sound or notice by other people.
Again, he thought of his teacher’s words about interconnectedness, and decided it was a sign he’d come to the right place.
After another few days of learning to stand again, of short walks and full meals, a nurse brought Ren some clothing.
Wearing the simple blue coverall, Ren was allowed out of his room for the first time to meet with someone who, he was told, would see about his future here.
A young man in black slacks and a button-down shirt led him down one ornate corridor after another, all the walls on either side decorated with paintings. They depicted erotic scenes unlike any Ren had ever seen. Some showed forest gatherings where half-animal, half-human beings were depicted in detailed orgies. Others were of single beautiful nudes. Some showed couples in various states of sexual play, men with women, men with men, women with women.
Ren had looked at porn before, but this was nothing like that. These paintings were beautiful. They transcended the simple sexual act. They emitted a pink light that blossomed in Ren’s vision over and over like a blooming flower in fast-motion.
As they came around another corner, Ren blinked the light away, only to nearly bump into another man in black.
“Ah, you are just in time,” the man said. He had blue light coming out of his head in the vague shape of a tree blowing in the wind.
The man tilted his head at Ren. “Are you sure you are quite recovered?”
“Yes, sir.” Ren nodded, ignoring the blue tree and looking straight into a familiar face. This was the master who’d met him at the gate. There had been no blue tree then. Ren had not seen lights emanating from people until only a few days ago.
“Do you remember me?” the man asked.
“Yes.”
“Good.” The master opened the door to a large room containing a round table and eight, office-style chairs. “Have a seat.”
The attendant who’d accompanied Ren left, closing the door.
Ren sat and looked up. The master came forward and lowered himself into the chair closest to Ren. The master had an electric air about him. His aura was all golds and greens, apart from the blue tree above his head. Woodsy. Making the air singe with a hint of autumn bloom.
“Well,” he began. “First, allow me to introduce myself. I am Eminent Master Locke.”
“What does Eminent Master mean?” Ren asked.
“I, along with a board of other Eminent Masters, make final decisions around here on how this place is run, who is to be trained, who passes training and when they are allowed to be sold. This is like a school, but it is also run as a business. We are in charge of that business. I head the board. It is sort of like being the president of any other corporation.”
Ren nodded his understanding. But he was also surprised. Why was the head of the board, an Eminent Master, in charge of his case? And why had he of all the masters in the Palace come to meet him at the gate two weeks ago?
“You have had quite an ordeal. You were a very sick boy, Ren.”
“You know my name.”
“Of course I do. The doctors and nurses asked you many questions while you were ill. They made their reports. I received them all. What you didn’t tell us we found out through web searches, etc. Your file is quite full. So I know you’ve had a rough time of it this past year.”
Ren looked down at his lap.
“It is important that we establish right now that your recent tragedy and runaway status cannot be factors in our decision to allow you to remain here. We do not take in strays. We are not a charity service. There are many services out there that can help you.”
A knot began to twist in Ren’s stomach. “You’re not sending me away, are you?”
“Your case is interesting. There is a reason beyond your beauty as to why I opened the gates to you. Do you want to know what it is?”
“Yes.”
“An intelligence and tenacity in your gaze. And something more I can’t quite define. Quite compelling. When I found out how sick you actually were, I was even more compelled to have this meeting with you now, because truly you should have been unconscious by the time you reached us here at the Palace. Your fever had spiked at 105. Your electrolytes were so imbalanced I don’t know how you kept standing. I am willing to give a chance to anyone showing that kind of strength.”
“Thank you, sir. Uh, master.” Ren folded his hands in his lap and squeezed tight.
“So you want to train when you become of age. Your birthday is in May,” Master Locke said, glancing at an electronic pad and tapping it a few times with his forefinger.
“Yes.”
“Why?” Master Locke looked up. “Please be truthful. There really are no wrong answers.”
But there were wrong answers. If he said something the master did not like, he might not be accepted.
Ren watched fluorescent white light simmer about Locke’s jaw. “I am most comfortable in the submissive role, sir. To have someone make the decisions for me, tell me what to do.”
“In all of life? Or sexual situations?” The light at Locke’s jaw turned almost purple.
“The world outside is a very uncomfortable place.”
“Yes. It is for all. Especially teenagers on the brink of adulthood.”
Ren thought he might be losing his way here. He tried to explain himself. “Yes, I am overwhelmed. Like anyone. But I seek more than just comfort. I don’t want to be free. I want to
be owned. It’s as if I can’t be whole out there. I know I’m young, and you probably think I’m just scared because of my parents being gone and having nothing left, but—“
“No. You have something left. It says here,” and now Locke tapped the screen of his pad again, “that you inherited money from a trust and the sale of a house. It is in another trust for you when you turn eighteen. That is only a few months away. It could fund your college education, or the start of a business. This is why you interest me. That isn’t enough to give you comfort?”
Slowly, Ren shook his head. He knew about the money. It was a lot. At least to his thinking. But even the thought of having money didn’t change his mind. He had made his decision. He didn’t want to be in the outside world.
“I—I think it’s sexual, too.” Ren stumbled over the next words. “Since I was twelve I’ve read about pleasure slavery. Some of my richer friends’ parents had pleasure slaves. But I didn’t read about them because I fantasized about owning one. I read the books because I wanted to be one.”
“The crux of the matter, then. Now we get to it.” Locke allowed a small smile to touch his kind mouth.
The knot in Ren’s stomach loosened a bit. He watched as Locke touched the pad’s screen, read something, then nodded. The pad itself gave off a white halo. Made of energy, but blank. No color. Not like the paintings. Not like people.
Finally, Locke sighed. “My dear, you are quite lovely. You must know this. I would be lying if your sweet beauty did not influence my decision somewhat. But you show me much more.”
“Thank you, sir.” Ren’s cheeks heated.
“You will have a complete psych eval. You will be assigned to classes as befitting your age. These are not classes on sex training. Do you understand? I am making an exception for you because you are so close to your birthday. And I have seen your records. You scores, before you ran away, were consistently high. But your high school education is not quite complete. We will see that it is completed. Then you will come back to me for another evaluation.”