Dree didn’t have much experience with backstabbing thieves. But she wasn’t born yesterday. She shrugged, making light of his question.
“I doubt there is anywhere better to go,” she said, hoping someone would suggest something worthwhile.
“Only if you want a decent day’s work.” One of the raggedy women she couldn’t see too well said that.
The others around the burning embers of trash laughed in agreement.
“Who offers decent work?” She knew she pushed the conversation, and didn’t want to raise suspicion. These people moved around the town though, living where they could find shelter. She had a feeling they might know a fair bit, if they were willing to give straight answers.
“The farms on the edge of the empire do,” the cook’s son next to her spoke. “You have to have muscle though.” He poked her again, this time harder. “I doubt they are hiring for what you are good for.”
She wanted to punch him. The others laughed easily and she didn’t ask any more questions.
It was cold and dark later that night when Dree woke from a nightmare. Flames everywhere, hot, singeing her clothes, while children screamed and explosions sounded. She sat up, working to catch her breath while her heart raced.
“Marc.” She uttered his name, crying out in a hoarse whisper for help.
Rubbing her eyes, she exhaled, looking around her at what was left of the House of Torl. Bundled in torn blankets, their clothes twisted around them, the only people she loved in the solar system slept soundly.
“What is it?” Pren pushed herself up and leaned on her elbow. She combed her hair out of her face with her fingers, squinting as she looked at Dree.
“I had a bad dream. Go back to sleep.” Dree tried to sound calm, to reassure the woman who was her same age so she wouldn’t pester her with questions.
Once their master’s favorite, Pren still had a regal look with her high cheekbones and full pouty lips. Dree wondered how the King, or his guards, hadn’t found her yet.
“You said that man’s name again,” Pren prompted, unable to leave it alone. “Are you going to go after him?”
Dree had known Pren all of her life. And although she trusted her, the woman would talk if lured properly. There was no way to know how anyone in the King’s court might react to her knowing Marc of Torin. All she knew for sure was that the King and Marc didn’t like each other.
She shrugged. “I have no idea where he is.”
“But you want to leave here.” Pren looked down at Bean, who mumbled something in his sleep and then rolled over, his heavy breathing letting them know he hadn’t woken up.
“We aren’t safe here.” Dree looked around the small back room, once a pantry, that the group of them shared. “We don’t have enough food, no beds. There has got to be something better for us.”
Someone moved beyond the open doorway that led out to the kitchen. Both of them stared into the darkness, watching the shadow angle across the floor. More than likely one of the slaves sneaking into the pantry to steal food, an act that would get them whipped until they were unconscious, if caught.
Dree held her breath, praying whoever it was wouldn’t bother them. Her heart raced in her chest until eventually, the person gathered whatever it was that they wanted, and left the kitchen. She heard Pren sigh with relief. It took a moment for her own heart to settle back down so she could talk. Pren looked over at her.
“You’re right. We aren’t safe here,” she whispered. “But where would we go?”
“I think if we could get out of town, we would be able to figure something out.” Dree wouldn’t share her plans, they were so sketchy, and she hadn’t figured out too many of the details.
Pren nodded and then lay back down. “Let me know when you’ve got it figured out. I’ll go with you.”
All of them would go together. Dree had already decided that. But she nodded, lying back down alongside the wall and one of the children. She shivered against the draft that crept through the cracks in the floorboard. Closing her eyes, she imagined Marc of Torin watching her, his intense blue eyes capable of knowing her thoughts without her saying a word. Just thinking about him caressing her, running his hands over every inch of her like he had when he bathed her, was enough to distract her from the hard floor and the cold night air tickling her backside.
Dree pressed her legs together, the intense pressure that wouldn’t go away deep inside her pussy starting to pulsate. Her clothes were baggy enough that she could run her hand down her body, tracing chilling patterns over her skin the way she imagined Marc doing.
Her body tingled with excitement, the only satisfaction she could offer herself these days, rubbing her clit with her fingers and fingering herself until she came. The throbbing pain in her pussy, the emptiness that craved being filled, was hardly satisfied with her fingers, but it was all she had.
Parting the sensitive flesh with her fingers, she cringed over how hairy she was. Once her body had been shaven smooth, oiled and moisturized daily. But now, ignored here in the castle, she hardly ever had fresh water to bathe in, let alone a razor to use on her body.
She pressed the swollen nub that beat with a throbbing that matched her heart, using two of her fingers to squeeze and caress it until she was coated with her thick cream. Stroking her entrance, she imagined Marc’s larger hand there, his focused expression watching her while he rubbed her pussy.
Dree sucked in a staggered breath. More than anything she wanted his long thick cock pressing against her, eager to enter her, to fill her until she couldn’t take anymore. Her nipples tingled, her breasts full and heavy, aching to be sucked and played with. Every inch of her body craved more than what she had to offer. Even after she stabbed her fingers deep inside her, rubbing her inner pussy walls while she pressed deeper, the ache wouldn’t subside.
Never had she dreamed she would get to this point, craving sex as desperately as she did now. But it was more than a good fucking; her body was on edge, one large nerve ending exposed and vulnerable, and the only satisfaction would be Marc.
She told herself this was nothing more than an infatuation, a natural reaction to a hero who had momentarily offered her something that she couldn’t have. Maybe any man would do. Pren had done it; Dree knew that. Her friend had allowed one of the guards to fuck her simply to take away the edge.
No matter how much she considered the idea, it did nothing for her. None of the men she saw around the castle appealed to her. And although she’d spent a lifetime fucking whoever she was told to fuck without giving it a thought, things were different now. And she knew the moment that they changed. It wasn’t her freedom that made her suddenly picky about what cock entered her body, it was meeting Marc of Torin. Now no other man would do.
Dree pressed her fingers along the inside warmth of her pussy, feeling her thick moisture wrap around her fingers. Her muscles clamped down, quivering while she stroked herself. The pressure built deep in the core of her pussy, so intense she wished she could pass out. She knew she would die if she couldn’t come soon. She just knew it.
Adjusting her legs slightly, parting them so she could reach a deeper spot in her cunt, she spread her fingers, twisting her hand while she fucked herself. Her hot cream soaked her hand while she imagined Marc over her, his muscles gleaming from sweat while he pounded her with his rock-hard cock. It was all she could do not to cry out when the dam broke inside her, the pressure receding while her body quivered with her orgasm.
Sliding her fingers out, she sucked on them, keeping her eyes closed while she savored her own rich flavor. Marc was smiling down at her, pleased that she had found pleasure, happy that she had come. She rolled over, cuddling into the child next to her for warmth even though her body wasn’t as cold as it had been minutes before. Smiling back at the image of Marc in her mind, she finally fell asleep.
Chapter Six
“Are you Dree of Torl?” The male voice behind her made Dree jump.
She turned around, looking
up at the huge guard. Her heart swelled into her throat and started beating furiously as her palms instantly grew moist.
“Yes.” She choked on the word and cleared her throat while glancing over at Bean.
The two of them had just finished talking to one of the farmers who delivered to the castle. Like all of the others, he wanted nothing to do with transporting anyone off of the castle grounds.
“Come with me.” The guard reached for her, his gloved hand wrapping around her arm before she could protest.
“What have I done?” She did her best to keep up with his long strides as he walked her across the grounds back to the castle.
Grabbing the baggy pants that Marc had given her at the waist, she held on to them so they wouldn’t slide down her while the guard hurried her across the yard.
“I don’t ask questions and you shouldn’t either.” His rough grip on her brought back memories of being brought back here after being taken from Marc of Torin.
Dree glanced back at Bean who was already hurrying in the other direction. He would tell the others she’d been taken. They would assume it would be a matter of time before they were dropping her into a shallow grave in the ground.
The lump in her throat swelled, while her stomach twisted into a painful knot. The King had requested to see her. But why?
The guard took her through one of the side doors that led down a long hallway toward the inner courtyard. She’d been this far inside the castle only once before, and that was when she’d met Marc.
Her heart pounded in her chest when the doors were opened for them and once again she moved across the open courtyard. The world around her transformed from hunger and filth to beautiful people lounging and flirting with each other. Sweet-smelling air filled her nostrils, adding to the clean, serene setting before her. Her surroundings reminded her of how filthy she was, with over a week since she’d bathed. She refused to part with the clothes Marc had given her, not that she had anything else to wear, and her fingers were all she had to comb her hair. Hot embarrassment ran through her while the other women watched her, curiosity and repulsion masking their faces. The material of her clothes was foreign, thickly woven and impossible to see through.
“This way.” The guard yanked her arm almost out of her socket as he dragged her across the courtyard.
He was making a show out of taking her to the King. Dree couldn’t figure out what she had done to deserve such humiliation. The painful knot in her stomach grew when she thought that this might just be the beginning of being disgraced.
Their footsteps echoed in the hallway similar to the one where the drugged baths were. After crossing through several smaller courtyards, they approached two steeple-shaped wooden doors, their long thick handles adding to their gothic appearance. For some reason, Dree knew nothing good happened beyond those doors. Her knees began shaking.
Over her years living at Torl, her master had purchased sex slaves who would share nightmares of abuse and pain at the hand of evil and sadistic men and women. Dree’s stomach turned, the thick knot rising toward her throat when the guard reached for the handle.
“What’s in there?” Her voice quavered, fear gripping her like an angry lightning bolt, freezing her in her tracks.
The guard pushed the door open. “The King,” he told her, looking down at her, sneering. “And you’ll do well not to cower and cry in his presence. It’ll only go worse for you. I guarantee it.”
Dree looked up at the giant of a man who had a death grip on her arm. He turned toward the door though, dragging her through it without another word. But she heard what he’d just said to her, and knew that he spoke with experience. Straightening, she forced the panic back down to the well of her gut, and stood as tall as she could while walking alongside the huge man.
The long room she entered almost took her breath away. Arched ceiling with passionate colors portrayed scene after scene of sexual acts. There were marble statues of naked men and women posed in lewd and compromising positions. A detailed statue of a woman on her hands and knees, sucking a man’s cock while being fucked from the rear by another man stole her attention momentarily. This room by far surpassed her master’s entertaining area back on Torl. Everywhere she looked something sexual caught her eye. Rumors of the King’s perversions had not been lies.
“What have you brought her in here for?” A whiny-sounding man, small and bony, stepped in front of the two of them. He put his hands on his hips, his lip curling in disgust while he tsked at her appearance. “You can’t present something like that to the King.”
“King Sorale asked for her.” The guard stopped, but didn’t sound intimidated by the small man’s question.
The man, whose age Dree couldn’t guess, ran nicely manicured fingers through his thick dark brown hair. He glared at the guard, as if annoyed that he even had to address him, then turned his attention to her. He didn’t stand much taller than she did.
Dree made sure she stood as straight as possible, the way her mistress often had when dealing with a man who had a bit too much of an ego.
“What is it that you do here?” She did her best to sound sure of herself. “I’ve been manhandled enough by this guard. And I have no idea why the King wishes to see me.”
“His Majesty will let you know why when you are presented to him.” The man’s disgusted look didn’t leave his face. He turned away from her, clapping his hands together twice. “Take her to the bathing room. The King certainly can’t see her looking like that.”
“I’m not yours to command.” The guard pushed her into the small man. “You take her to the bathing room.”
Dree straightened quickly, running her hands over her oversized clothes, more to wipe the moisture from her damp palms than to make any attempt to straighten her appearance. She knew she couldn’t possibly look decent in what she was wearing.
The small man grunted, not showing fear but more like disdain. “Come on then.”
Dree thought about refusing to follow him, but hadn’t she wanted to see the King for a while now? She seriously doubted talking to him would help her people at this point. But something had to be done.
They walked along the side of the long room. Small groups of people huddled here and there, chatting idly. She didn’t look at any of them, instead focusing on the magnificent statues carved in various positions and from different types of rocks. They were incredible. And although she tried hard to focus on the detail when they walked past each one of them, none of them put her nerves at ease.
The small man stopped in front of a nondescript door, opening it without ceremony. Dree followed him down a narrow hallway until he opened another door and stood to the side for her to enter.
“When do I go to the King?” she asked, glancing inside and then turning her attention to her escort.
“When he wants to see you.” He gestured with his head for her to enter.
This time, bathing proved a simple matter. No one paid too much attention to her in the large room, where others were gathered, obviously waiting for the opportunity to say their piece with the King.
She managed to find a washing area, mainly used for those who had traveled to primp a bit so they were presentable for the King. The sight she stared at in the mirror on the wall made her gasp.
“I’m a wreck,” she groaned out loud, staring at the atrocious sight reflected back at her.
Her hair was no longer silky but tangled and almost matted in places. Her skin had grown rough, and she looked worse in the clothes Marc had given her than she thought. She couldn’t have looked much different over a week ago. What in the world had that man seen in her?
Apparently, she had plenty of time to prepare herself. No one came to get her. Others around her took up lodging in corners, or wherever they found room, getting comfortable while they waited.
“Well, at least you don’t have the Bortan staying at your Inn.” An older woman huffed while she complained.
The words stabbed right through Dree.
Memories of watching her master’s home explode, the countryside she had loved burn, and smoke billowing around her making it impossible to breathe invaded her mind with a painful vengeance.
“You know they stink because their human parts decay.” Another woman spoke with a hushed voice.
Dree’s hands trembled while she tried to rinse the soap from her face and hair. Her feeble efforts to clean herself up suddenly proved a task too complicated to finish. Panic rushed through her at the thought of the Bortan. It sounded like they were here in town, possibly for the Alignment Ceremony. Just thinking of how she might see one of them made her skin crawl. She hated the King even more for allowing them on this planet.
“Dree of Torl.” A guard stood at the doorway, calling her name, while glancing around at the room full of people.
She’d barely had time to adjust her clothing, using a rope belt to hold the shirt and pants in place in the middle of her body. Her hair was still damp, but she was clean. Dree walked through the room, her head held high, doing her best to appear anything other than a former slave. The future of her people relied on her actions over the next hour. And she was terrified.
Once again she entered the magnificent room where the erotic statues poised in silent sensuality bordered the walls. This time men and women stood along the walls, blocking her view of most of the artifacts. She saw Bortan among the people, and icy chills ran down her back.
Dree stood between two guards. “You will walk between us to the King,” one of them instructed, and she did her best to nod.
Her mouth was so dry she wasn’t sure she would be able to speak. The knot in her stomach twisted in wrenching pain, her lips trembled and her knees were almost too shaky for her to walk. Somehow she had to present herself as confident though, or her life and the lives of the few of them left from Torl would be over. She struggled to swallow while walking between the two guards toward the King.
The people on either side of her watched her, eyeing her clothing, sizing her up, whispering among themselves. She had to ignore them. The best thing to do would be to pretend none of them were there. How many times had she done that with her Master on Torl when she’d sucked his cock in front of crowds? Dree focused ahead at the figure sitting on the throne and paid no attention to anyone around her.
Sex Slaves 2: Waiting For Yesterday Page 5
