Boris quickly followed, stepping into the cramped space and locking the door behind him. The sound made Amie flinch.
“Master Boris,” she greeted fearfully.
“You do not appear thrilled to see me, little Amie. Come now, untie your garments for me,” Boris smirked. “Do not keep me waiting.”
Her throat worked visibly. “But the customer-“
“Untie. Your. Garment.”
She dropped the wine bottle, causing it to clatter, and her trembling hands began working on the rope holding her uniform together at her chest.
Untying the knot, she pulled down the flimsy undergarment, revealing her creamy, plump breasts before Boris’s eyes.
Boris closed the distance between them, cupping the globes and roughly kneading them. He smirked as Amie winced in pain. Locking eyes with her, he pinched her nipples hard.
She cried out, instinctively raising her hands to protect her breasts, but he slapped her hands away. Lowering his head, he greedily sucked on her hardened peaks, nibbling and biting them harshly.
Amie covered her mouth with her hand, stifling her cries as he mercilessly suckled her sensitive breasts. It hurt. She fought the urge to plead, to beg him to stop, knowing it would only make him more brutal if she did. So, she swallowed down her cries as she tried to twist away from his rough mouth.
Finally, Boris pulled back, lust in his eyes. “The barn, tonight.”
“I cannot, Madam Livia needs my assistance with one of the sick ones tonight,” she quickly lied.
When he narrowed his eyes suspiciously, Amie added, “It is true, you can even ask Madam Livia.” She knew he wouldn’t inquire further. Master Boris preferred to keep his vile, lustful dealings discreet.
He did not appear pleased and leaned closer. “If I find out you are lying to me, I will make you pay,” he warned in a low tone. “Trust me, little slave. You will not like the way I make you pay for that.”
She adjusted her clothes hastily. “I would never lie to you.” As she turned to leave, Boris grabbed her arm, forcefully pulling her back. “Your new friend, I want him.”
Amie forced herself not to physically react to that. “I do not believe it would be wise, Master Boris. He belongs to Grand Lord Vladya.”
Satisfaction filled her when his eyes widened at the mention of the third ruler, and she added, “He personally traveled to the human world to buy Prince Emeriel. I am certain he would not like anyone messing with his own slave.”
“That is a lie!” Boris hissed. “If he truly belonged to the Grand Lord, he would not have been sent down here to the cellar. He would be working in the fortress.”
True. She thought fast. “I do not possess all the details, Master Boris, but I did not lie about Prince Emeriel’s encounter with the Grand Lord. You can ask anyone in Ravenshadow. Furthermore, I overheard Madam Livia mention that his…”
employment here is only temporary. Surely, you do not wish to risk incurring Grand Lord Vladya’s wrath, do you?”
No, Boris did not wish to take that risk. No Urekai in his right mind would dare. Yet, he couldn’t help but think about that pretty face… the enticing curves barely concealed by the slave clothes. And he was not the only one.
When the boy entered the tavern, all eyes were on him. No, Boris was not the only male who wanted to mount that boy and fuck into him so hard he squealed, his virgin ass opening around his thick length. To fuck into him until that tight channel milked him dry.
No, he was not the only one, but he sure as the moon would be among the first!
Curling his finger around the little slave’s throat, his voice dripped with menace. “You dare to lecture me, slave?”
The girl’s eyes widened. “I would never dream of it, Master Boris.”
“Good. When I summon you, lead him to the barn as the sun begins its descent. I will inform you when the time is right. Should you fail in this task, my anger will be unleashed.” His lips curled into an evil smile. “You do not want to witness my wrath, do you?”
Grabbing her breast roughly, Boris squeezed so hard she sobbed in pain. Only then did he release her, step back, and walk away.
Amie’s legs gave way, and she fell to her knees, trembling. The last time Master Boris had unleashed his fury upon her, she had bled through her anal ring, rendering her unable to walk properly for an entire week.
It was the first and only time he had invaded her there, and even now, the phantom pain felt just as excruciating. She never wanted to experience anything like that ever again.
“Oh, what am I to do!? Do I truly need to deliver Prince Emeriel to this…?”
EMERIEL
Emeriel barely listened to Grand Lord Zapier, his eyes scanning the large hall, searching for Aekeira amidst the crowd of slaves. She must be deliberately avoiding attention, for she was nowhere to be seen. She had to be here-Lord Zapier had requested the presence of every slave.
“You are all meant to serve your masters. Do whatever they desire from you. Your life is not your own; your masters can take it whenever they see fit. The same goes for your bodies. We own you. If you wish to see more days, you must perform your tasks well and to the best of your abilities.”
A heavy silence descended upon the hall as he continued, explicitly reminding them that they were nothing more than objects with no feelings or will. No one dared to speak. In fact, no one dared to even breathe too loudly for fear of drawing his attention.
“Defiance and deception will be met with severe penalties. Especially deception. A slave is not allowed to keep secrets. A slave has no business keeping secrets. The day your hidden truths are revealed will be the day you despise your own existence. Does anyone have a confession to make? Is there anything you are hiding from us?”
Emeriel’s heart raced in his chest. His own secret, forbidden in every kingdom of the world, echoed in his ears like the tolling of a bell, its weight pressing down on him.
“Speak now, and I might consider a more lenient punishment for you. Or hold your tongue. If you choose the latter, your time is already ticking. Tick tock. Tick tock.” His handsome yet unsettling face twisted into a cold smile.
“The date for the presentation of new slaves will soon be announced. All of you are expected to be at court on that day. You are dismissed.”
As the slaves filed out, Emeriel slipped between two figures, making his way toward the exit. The words of Grand Lord Zapier still echoed in his mind.
A slave has no business keeping secrets. A slave has no business keeping secrets.
Emeriel knew what the presentation to the court meant. They would be stripped, exposed, and used as entertainment for the lords and privileged. He had overheard whispers among the slaves about it, and the things they spoke of…
A wave of nausea rose in his throat at the thought of being laid bare, vulnerable, and used by several Urekai. The things they would discover.
Chills ran down his spine. So many problems, so few solutions.
Lost in his thoughts, Emeriel went about his errands for the day.
A large hand grabbed him as he made his way to the market, jerking him forward and pulling him out of his reverie. He looked up to see Slave Master Boris glaring down at him. “Good day, Master Boris,” Emeriel said, bowing his head.
“You haven’t been to the inn in ages,” Master Boris snarled angrily, tightening his grip on Emeriel’s arm.
Emeriel winced but endured the pain, blinking innocently at the slave master. “I have not been assigned to the cellar, Master.”
The Urekai ground his teeth in frustration, then finally released his grip and stepped back.
“Although the final decision lies with the assigner, slaves are allowed to make suggestions. When you’re next assigned, you must suggest the cellar, slave prince. Am I clear?”
Not a chance in hell.
“Yes, Master.” Emeriel bowed his head. He was beginning to recognize that look in Master Boris’s eyes-the same look Lord Zaiper had when he stared at Aekeira: pure, unadulterated lust.
“I would sooner eat from a trash bin than suggest that.”
“Good.” Slave Master Boris whirled around and continued on his way.
Emeriel found himself standing behind the drying ropes, hanging numerous wet garments one by one as murmurs filled the air, followed by the sounds of greetings indicating the approach of an aristocrat.
The long linens obstructed his view, preventing him from seeing who it was. When he emerged from behind the linens, he noticed the other slaves bowing deeply, and followed suit.
The luxurious gown of the aristocrat drew closer and closer until it stood right in front of him. Crack!
His ears rang as pain reverberated through his entire body from the slap across his face.
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