Pass Three; Unfinished [Fantasy][Slavery][Voyeurism][M/F][F/F][Reluc/Dubious Consent] Barton rolled the crystal glass in his hand, observing the approaching sun through the clear blue liquid within. The rings on his fingers clinked quietly against the flawless vessel as it sparkled. He pondered what the day might hold, what treasures lay waiting to be discovered, to be plundered. He savored the last of the potent intoxicant as it writhed its way down his throat and felt it stir the fire in his heart. The glass was set down silently on the velveteen tray that rest on the table as he exited to be later cleared away by his staff. His long and limber legs carried him at no great pace down the central hall of his mansion. At one point he had heard it described as a palace and the notion tickled him occasionally, but in truth it was not nearly extravagant enough for that. It served his needs. Everything here served his needs. He dressed himself. Most of the staff he had trained and come to depend on were now gone for destinations unknown, it suited him to replace them and the novelty they represented occasionally. A rare event today, a total of six different caravans were arriving in time for the midday market and he intended to be there to see what had made it to the capital. As he pulled on the customary white cotton robe he closed his eyes and imagined it in all its splendor. The half circular building with pristine long, loping walls along the main thoroughfare built in no small part with his fortunes. Around noon the sun's rays would slide fully through openings in the main halls, perfectly illuminating the goods within, a spectacle he never failed to enjoy. A gentle breeze came through the house as he stood and quietly rattled the chains and manacles hanging from one of the walls in a nearby room. A smile tugged at his lips, the house itself felt empty and called to him to be filled. He glanced at the mirror to check his appearance. The hawkish, green eyed, olive skinned trade baron looked back and judged him to never forget his roots and to never stop advancing. The rest of the morning passed in a dull blur after that. Barton ate a simple breakfast prepared by one of his paid staff. The noise of harnesses and the quiet rattling of carriages floated in on the wind, enticing him to the day's attraction. They were soon off at his command, making a brisk pace first through his immaculate oasis like garden then down through the winding pass towards the city in the near distance. The closer they made it to the sprawling sea of buildings the more dense a stream of other carriages and walking people became. He ignored them all, glancing up only occasionally at their destination. The rare event of so many caravans at the same time was drawing large crowds and the going was slower than normal. The sights and sounds of the bustling city assaulted him when he opened the door at the front gate of the great hall. Inside, merchants shouted their wares and prices, beyond the sandy walls of the enclosure he heard beggars, raucous laughter from various taverns, cries to religion, and all manner of impossible to separate sounds. The city nearly thundered as it struggled to contain the orgy of mercantilism taking place inside. He soon shook his head and began inside after a word to his driver. As he crossed through the gate the noise of the city behind him fell away and was easily replaced in enthusiasm if not quite in volume. Foot traffic here was dense but not impenetrable and he moved along at his own pace, pausing to examine a piece of jewelry here or an item of furniture there. None of it truly interested him but it payed to keep up appearances. All the regular traders knew him and most of the ones from beyond the city limits had the good sense to pick up from their neighbors that he was important. The feeling of power washed over him sooner than normal, before he'd even been inside. Everything here belonged to him. Everything. Barton shook his head free of the distracting notion and moved on inside. A clerk sitting at a long wooden table nodded to him as he passed, holding up his hands with eight fingers extended. Barton nodded back and smiled. Eight! Eight traders! Today was a good day indeed. "Gentlemen!" He said as he entered the room where they gathered, interrupting the laughter from a story recently told. He took stock as they turned and stood to pay their respects. Jed, Olen, Augustus, Efrain, Lynwood, Tabastin, and two he didn't recognize. "What have we today?" Jed spread his hands, "I've nothing good to show you Lord Barton, not this time." One of the unnamed men nodded in agreement. Two down already, how unfortunate. Olen, Efrain, and Lynwood looked between each other conspiratorially. Barton just smiled and nodded. "More the usual," Augustus drawled, thick accent masking the words almost to the point of being unintelligible. Barton nodded to him in turn. "My associate and I both have some stock suitable for you to at least look at," Tabastin said modestly, gesturing to the other unnamed man. Barton only now noticed a large ugly scar across the man's neck, but he smiled agreeably. Barton gestured to Augustus. "Come my friend, show me." Augustus nodded before he stood, tugging on his loose fitting shirt in an attempt to get it to hang better. Barton knew the man was from much cooler climates and very poorly adjusted to the strong heat surrounding them. They moved swiftly but unhurriedly through the halls to Augustus's reserved room. No words passed between them, they barely understood each other as it was. Crates made of fragrant dark wood took up one whole wall of the room, the cages took up the other. Only four this time, though it wouldn't have surprised Barton in the least to know there were more of lower quality chaff around in the areas under less suitable guard. The baron turned his piercing stare on the contents of the iron barred cages. Only one of the fair skinned woodland natives was standing by now, a tall and lanky male no older than twenty with a shaved head. An ugly bruise marred his otherwise flawless face. Augustus gestured. "I catch him last, he fight," The trader shrugged, gesturing to the next one in line. "Her village trade her to spare them. Very quiet, meek," He explained, smiling with several missing teeth before barking a short guttural order. The girl helped herself to the feet with the bars, avoiding the gaze of both men. Barton dismissed her with a wave of his hand and Augustus moved to the next one in line. "Clever, hard to handle. Pick her lock twice!" He held up two fingers, still grinning. She looked up at Barton miserably with her hands in her lap bound tightly with rough brown rope, but she also said nothing. In the last cage rest another male, though this one was better built. Barton looked at Augustus who merely shrugged. "Quiet too, but he just wait I think." He repeated the order at the last figure who also stood, meeting Barton's gaze evenly. A woodsman if Barton was a betting man. The smooth muscles of his youthful form were not forced with needless work but were also clearly a result of heavy labor. Barton laughed. "I like him. Only him though, the others do not interest me," Augustus beamed with the complement but remained silent as the baron continued. "And my customary shipment of meats are here as well I hope?" He followed up with, met with enthusiastic nods. The baron held out his hand to shake as was Augustus's custom to seal a deal. No price had been discussed, it wasn't necessary. The woodland trader would name his price to Barton's clerk and that would be the end of it. The baron turned and left. Jed was waiting outside in the hall and whistled quietly, "I wasn't entirely truthful, but this isn't the kind of thing you tell the others about." He said in a leading tone of voice. Barton arched an eyebrow and followed. Waiting for them was Jed's companion who greeted them wordlessly. Barton's eyes were drawn instantly to the contents of the cage. "I can see why you kept it to yourself." He murmured. The figure sitting crosslegged on the floor inside met his gaze and held it. Long locks of obsidian hair cascaded neatly around her shoulders, parted down the middle to reveal the dark brown skin of her face. Her hazel eyes revealed nothing to him. "I assume there's a reason you brought it to me first?" He ventured, turning back to Jed. "Because he thought you'd like my fire." She said with a delicately accented and perfectly understandable lilt to her words. She rose and rested her unbound wrists on the bars, revealing a series of perpendicular scars. Barton turned back to her with a twinkle in his eye, "She speaks the tongue and doesn't respect the bars. I do like her." He motioned at her to turn around and she did, raising her tunic and revealing more scars on her back, as well as a set of full, pert breasts. "Very much doesn't respect the bars," He murmured. "And older than I normally buy." The baron assessed her to be in remarkably good shape for her middle age. It struck him that she was... matronly. He smiled, turning once more to Jed, "You're hoping I will pay full price despite her obedience problems and age." The uplander nodded immediately, it wasn't his way to lie. Barton nodded slowly, "I will think about it. You are only my second stop. See to your other business, I will seek you out when I have made up my mind," He said finally after a short pause, "Very interesting." He said again, looking into the cage before leaving. Tabastin and his fellow were waiting outside their room further down the hall. The short, ruddy faced man waved jovially to Barton as he approached, ushering him inside, "Not my best work I'll admit, but no matter!" He boomed proudly. "You must be joking" Barton said in a flat voice after stepping inside. "They look like they crawled off the battlefield." He continued, wandering from cage to cage. Most of the wretches were coated in soot and sported rags for garments, some wore only bruises and distantly vacant gazes on their slack jawed faces. A few shrank back from him the tiny distance permitted by the cages, others ignored him. Barton turned to Tabastin who spoke before the baron could. "You're right again! Most of them were fighting yesterday! The Plainshod are members of the Alliance now, your alliance, these are the first available." the short man beamed. Barton sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Muted crying floated forward from somewhere in the back of the packed room. "You were to get first pick of the spoils..." Tabastin said with a creeping hint of concern over the baron's lack of interest. He opened his mouth to say something but the merchant silenced him with a look and moved on along the rows. The room contained dozens of cages, some packed with double occupancy. Barton knew a purchase was expected of him but he also knew he may as well pick at random for all the good it would do. He stopped next to one cage and examined the contents. The two residents were in a stupor, both female with matted reddish-blonde hair and freckles dotting their bare shoulders. His neck prickled with the sensation of being watched and he turned to see one of the slaves behind him look away too slowly. The baron made to reach in at the girls and got a low moan of despair from the cage he had turned his back to. There was a relationship there at least. He dusted his hands and stood regarding the man, barely that, who had made the noise. The resemblance was uncanny and caused Barton to smile. He turned from both of them back to the seller. "These three." He said firmly without gesturing. Tabastin smiled and named a figure. It was grandiose, obscene even. Barton stared implacably and Tabastin named a smaller number in a sulking tone of voice. The two men went back and forth for some minutes, though Barton didn’t care one way or the other. Haggling was part of the stubby little man’s way of doing things and he’d haggle over meal of bread and fish the same way he’d argue over the cost of a thousand head of shiirven, Barton knew this first hand. Tabastin seemed sated by the price they eventually agreed upon and he ushered the baron back out. No doubt another noble would be along to see the goods. Barton leaned against one of the decorative pillars that lined the hallway and paused to rest, taking stock. The woodsman, a strong and powerful choice. He might be hard to control or he might turn out to be immediately docile. The matron, a conversational sparring partner in the very least and a potential head of the lot at most. The baron rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. The redheads were an unknown variable, at least two of them were related by heart or by blood and the third may simply have been swept up in the net. He would know soon enough. The three remaining traders had pooled their wares for reasons unbeknownst to him. Perhaps one had a catch so wonderful the others demanded in as a favor. Perhaps individually they didn’t like the strength of their stock. He pondered the possibilities as he strolled back to their assigned room. Efrain and Olen greeted him at the same time, paying respects and well wishing over each other. Barton likened them to yapping canines and let them run themselves down into silence. Lynwood just smiled and nodded, gesturing to the well stocked but not overcrowded room. "Only the finest rise to the top," Lynwood said, sounding as silkenly overblown as he was dressed "And the top deserve only the finest." He had evidently been chosen to ringlead this parade. The baron looked up and down the aisles. The slaves within had all been cleaned up for the occasion and Barton had to admit it appeared to be a fine selection. They were silent and standing, doing their best to look nonchalant given their circumstances. "You seem to have trained them to some degree already," Barton said dryly as he wandered. "One is inclined to wonder why? Or should I ask why they're all drugged out of their minds?" He finished after carefully observing the glassy eyes of one pliant captive. "It was a long trip," soothed Olen "we did not want any harm to befall them. So yes, we helped them relax. Something simple bought from your own stores!" He offered hopefully as though that would make it better. "How long have they been.. relaxing?" the baron's tone was calculating now. The ingested herbs could cause damage, expensive damage. "The longest about eight weeks. The shortest about four." Olen was prompted by Lynwood. Barton reached into one of the cages and propped open the eyelids of a particularly attractive girl and watched the pupil sluggishly respond. He grunted and withdrew. "Some of them are branded as well. I hope you haven't been thieving." He warned dangerously. Vigorous shaking of heads was the only reply. The slaves may as well have been identical the way they were now. Barton decided to pick at random, the notion of the unknown delighted him here for some reason. He counted out three brass marks and tossed them carelessly around him, "The three nearest the coins." He ordered with a smile. Lynwood opened his mouth to say something but Efrain silenced him with a look and an unsubtle shake of his head. The motion comically rustled the man's curly black hair. Lynwood did start to thank the baron for the generosity of his hospitality and his purchase but Barton waved his hand dismissively and left the three scrambling to find the coins. Business was concluded. That business anyway. There was a tedious stream of state affairs and mercantile minutia ahead of him for the rest of the day. He sighed and pressed on to his office, wishing every step was taking him home instead. ===000=== Jonna watched the man walk out the door and heard Jed lapse into muted conversation with his partner. She rubbed her wrists and sank back to the sitting position, leaning against the bars. That might have been the most interesting prospective buyer she’d ever been paraded in front of, he hadn’t so much as glanced at the rest of her body. A dawning thought struck her that she might be beyond the simple and embarrassing purpose that had marked her life from adolescence forward. He said he’d think about it. She was fairly sure he was going to say yes. Jed took one of the crates from the side of the room and departed followed closely by his associate, leaving Jonna alone. She closed her eyes and began to pass the time with the old pursuit of trying to conjure up long forgotten memories of her home village in the peaks. Minutes and hours passed as she sat trying to reconstruct the ancient recollections. Jed came and went as did his fellow traveler. She tuned them out and they ignored her. Finally though they returned with a third whose footsteps were sufficiently different and heavy. She opened her eyes. The newcomer was tall with short cropped dark hair and vaguely almond shaped brown eyes. She assessed him to be guard immediately, not least because of the manacles waiting in his hands and short scabbard hanging from his belt. Jed was all smiles for him but the man returned none of it, speaking instead to her, “I am Yun. You will come with me.” He spoke in the trade tongue without any noticeable accent. Jonna nodded slowly. The cage door swung open smoothly on its hinges after Jed unlocked it. Jonna extended her wrists for Yun, who clasped the irons around them and tugged her forward with a length of chain. She didn’t resist, not yet. It was nice to be out of the cage and there was no where to go yet besides. They wandered at a moderate pace through the halls, Yun said nothing and neither did Jonna. She listened to the steady murmur of bargains being struck, smelled the exotic foods and goods from unknown lands, saw the bright flash of a coin against the late afternoon sun through a window or a down beaten slave struggling back to their feet. There was no time to dwell on any of this as they were soon through one of the doors to the exterior. The suddenly bright sun stung her eyes for a moment as they walked. As her vision returned she noticed several covered wagons waited outside, long wooden affairs with spoked wheels and dull beige canvas stretched over arches of some form. Slaves from the exchange were busily loading crates while two overseers consulted their work orders. She watched three other captives being ushered into the wagon ahead of theirs, they looked like they’d been to the Under and back. One of them stumbled and received a swift kick in the ribs for her troubles before the others could help her up. The wagon chosen for her was half full of dark wooden crates that smelled like a forest, cedar or fir. There was one other occupant, a well built man in his very early twenties at the latest. He, like her, was dressed in a simple gray tunic from the market. He met her gaze quickly, watching her climb into the wagon and sit across from him. Yun went to see about something else. “Hello?” She offered in the trade tongue. He looked back at her blankly and rolled his shoulders, causing the chain between his arms to jingle softly. “I am Jonna.” She said, switching to her native Selpati. The richly nuanced tones were also ignored or not understood. The way he was looking at her was not in need of any translation though. Despite the heat she shivered and risked a glance outside for the guard who was nowhere to be seen. The other slave smiled at her, bearing his straight white teeth then spoke. The tone and force behind the words shocked her slightly and she didn’t even begin to understand the short, clipped sentence. He gestured to her chains and said something else. It was her turn to look blankly at him. Another guard appeared at the rear of the wagon and joined them. This one was wearing a scarf that obscured his head, Jonna didn’t even want to imagine how hot it was under the garment. Before she could say anything else she heard an order shouted from the lead vehicle and they were under way. The going was slow through the city, but after some minutes the traffic began to thin and they picked up some speed. “How long?” She asked the guard. He looked at her and said nothing. She asked again and he shook his head before resting his hand on the hilt of a small baton in his lap. The message was clear and she fell silent. The city faded into the distance and Jonna was beginning to nod off between the heat and the constant motion of the wagon bumping up and down on the road. The other slave in the back with her reached forward and grasped the chain in her lap, tugging it forward. She came awake in surprise as she was pulled closer to him. The protest she started to make intensified as he kissed her and took the opportunity to grasp the back of her head by her hair. He released her hands but kept hold of her hair and she immediately tossed the small length of chain to one side to attract the attention of the guard. The other slave turned her head so that she could see that the guard was wide awake and looking at the two of them with folded arms. She implored both of them in both trade and Selpati and got no answer. This was not a good start to the new owner Jonna thought, falling silent. He pulled her down with one arm so that she was bent at an awkward angle and her face was pressed against one of the wooden supports holding the canvas wagon cover up. His other hand caressed her thigh. It was rough and calloused with muscles like iron, his grip alone could easily injure her it seemed. The guard still said nothing and made no move to intervene. His hand traveled up her right side sending shivers along her spine and his barely trimmed nails left tiny red lines along the way. She tensed further as the hand withdrew, at least partially, to the hem of the tunic and began to lift it up. He exposed her, letting the garment pool around her lower shoulders above her breasts. She had nothing else to wear under it and she voiced a strenuous protest again, but again the guard ignored her, watching the two of them intently. ‘How far could this go?’ She wondered, knowing full well the various answers to that question. The other slave reached back up and grasped one of her nipples between his viselike thumb and forefinger, tugging gently on it, gently for him at least. Jonna yelped involuntarily, it felt like he might take it with him when he withdrew his hand. He took a measure of the tunic and pressed it forcefully against her mouth in a clear meaning to gag her. She refused by holding her mouth shut until he pinched her nose to force her to breathe and the wad of rough flax fibers was pressed between her lips, the taste was unpleasantly dusty with a tinge of sweat to it. She held it there only after she reasoned it was likely he would repeat this until he, or the guard, would get frustrated. They were edging into the dangerous territory of guard sanctioned violence. No clever quips were likely to release her from this. He reached again for her breasts, cupping one in his hands and squeezing gently. The smile on his face by this point was positively lecherous. He pulled her back around and manhandled her legs onto either side of his and she shuddered again, willing to bet she knew what was coming next. She did indeed though it heartened her that it wasn’t as bad as she had feared on such a brute. He pulled back his own tunic to reveal his engorged member. It was actually pretty average all things considered, she mused distantly as he encouraged her closer with a hand on her back. Once it was resting against her stomach he released her hair to instead rest both hands on her wide hips and looked at her expectantly. She was still holding the handful of the tunic between her lips and she refused to look at him, deliberately looking at the guard. The chains connecting the manacles on her wrists jingled off to one side as the wagon bumped. The other slave shrugged slightly and grasped her hips firmly, lifting her up and causing her to squeal in further protest. The muscles in his arms and torso tightened as he controlled her descent, lowering her onto the waiting shaft. The intruder plunged into her depths on the first try, a small miracle given the wagon’s lack of a smooth ride. The head came to rest inside her as her hips met his and the grimace on her face was in contrast to the look of ecstasy plastered across his face. He scooted forward slightly on the bench and kept one hand on her hips while groping at her breasts with the other. The new position allowed him to thrust with the help of the bumps in the road. He said something else in his language, a snide chuckle followed for the joke of his own making apparently. She saw an out written across his body. He was tense and lacked control. The twin pressures of youth and his presumable lack of outside stimulation meant she didn’t have to hold on for that long. She whimpered again as he grabbed too hard at her breast, tightening her hands impotently into fists at her side. He was silent as he enjoyed himself, still wearing that ugly grin. If he wanted anything from her he had only one way to communicate it and that suited her just fine. The seconds stretched into minutes of this mindless rote thrusting, her body purely to satisfy his desires with the complacency of the guard. She felt like she might be chafing slightly and her back was getting sore, there hadn’t been enough water at the market and that meant she could offer precious little lubrication. He pressed his face against her chest and let her come to rest against his hips, flooding her nose with the scent of his sweat after exertion in a hot environment. She didn’t even have time to form a new complaint before she felt the pulsing expulsion of his seed into her. Even in his climax he was silent except for his heavy breathing. Eventually after a few more unpleasant moments, he leaned back against the canvas and waved her off as though he were dismissing a dog. She let the tunic fall from her mouth as she pushed off of him and fell back against the opposite bench. Jonna knew she should be angry but couldn’t find the strength to do it. She felt the cum slide out onto the bench under her, dripping past her thigh and she was just tired now. She leaned against the taut canvas behind her and rested her hands in her lap. The guard smiled to himself. ===000=== Barton adjusted the mask over his face and watched the dark skinned mountain woman lay down on the bench. That had been delicious to watch, he’d been right about them. He poked his head out around the side of the wagon and saw that the walls of his estate a short distance away, good timing all around. Leaning back in he turned to look at Antal, the male slave who had by now rolled his tunic back down around his hips. The man was a native to Iban Koroth, the Deep Forest. The baron delighted in his language, it was so simple and direct with none of the fluff of the trade tongue. Incredibly simple to control with powerful muscles and equally powerful desires. His enforcer. They were soon inside the gates and the sun bathed the sandy grounds in shades goldenrod and amber. Insects chirped quietly in the reeds near the oasis pool that dominated the center of the open area in front of the house. Yun and Hwan were riding in the other wagons and would escort their charges to their various rooms. He was going to split them all up. The three from Planeshod would each get a partner from the coin tossed pick. Another Selpat like Jonna and two Mimsuli all drugged out of their minds, it would take a few days for them to come fully out of their stupors. The language barriers were his favorite part of the whole thing so far. They would feel so isolated and so... alone. The wagon came to a stop and he heard Yun ordering the Planeshod out, the sound of one of them crying carried on the wind. He chuckled to himself and hopped down off the back, gesturing to Antal. Jonna sat up and looked at him so he held his hand up to her to stop and wait. She nodded but he saw it in her eyes. She was going to run. He sighed and consigned himself to let it happen as he ushered Antal away, leading him by the chains on his wrist. They crossed the short stone path through an open archway and down a flight of stairs. The interior of the lower level was still warm from the day’s heat and lit by braziers that were spaced to provide excellent lighting. He opened the wrought iron door to the second room on the left and gestured for Antal to enter. The forest native did so after a moment and turned around to face Barton as the door was closed, sticking his manacled wrists through an opening in the bars expectantly. The baron smiled and nodded, though the smile was hidden behind his scarf, and unlocked the chains. He hung them on a hook near the door and nodded again to Antal who nodded back. The day’s business between them was concluded at this point. By the time he returned to the wagon, Jonna was standing near the back. He looked at her in surprise. “Don’t think I don’t know who you are or what you’re trying to do here,” She said scornfully to him in trade. “I’m not going to be a part of your games.” She finished defiantly. “Yes you are.” He said simply, grasping the chains that held her and leading her back down to the first room on the left. Yun was closing one of the doors on the right as they reached the bottom of the stairs and closed a pair of wooden shutters over the bars to block sight. Barton nodded to him as he departed. “The rewards for cooperation will be substantial. The cost of attempting to get around it will be exorbitant.” He concluded, pushing her into the room and closing the door behind her as she fell to the floor with a dull thud. The baron left her to her empty threats and went back upstairs to supervise the unloading of the various crates. The next morning Barton rose early. After he cleaned himself up he moved across to a large wooden cabinet and withdrew a thin cotton robe which he draped over an arm before heading to the kitchen and obtained a bowl of thick, sweet porridge. These items in tow he headed out and down the stairs. Jonna was awake and looking out the small, thin window near the top of her cell. He quietly cleared his throat and she turned and looked at him with disdain. He gestured with the bowl and the robes, “I’d like to extend an offering.” he said simply. “And in return?” She swallowed visibly, eyeing the steaming bowl in his hands. “I lay out the rules you’re going to follow.” He replied. “Since I assume you’re going to do that anyway, I accept.” Jonna replied venomously. He offered the bowl and a wooden spoon through a slot in the door which she took and began to consume quickly while he leaned against the doorframe. “Baron’s open hand,” He said, gesturing to her with his palm up. “Baron’s closed fist.” He continued, gesturing next door where Antal was sleeping and she shuddered. “I am not an uncaring man and I am not asking for impossible tasks. Your body, the body of every slave down here, belongs to me to do with as I see fit. The Listad Alliance is carving an unstoppable pass through this land from your mountains to the coast and we will take what we please. You please me.” He said pointedly as she ate. “I will use you to comfort and him to punish. The first task I am setting out for you today is to get the three firehairs cleaned up. If you can’t control them, I will, and you will be punished for your failures.” Barton finished, leaving the threat to hang in the air pointedly as she finished eating. “I’m going to fight you.” She said simply, looking him in the eyes as she finished eating. He nodded. “I’m not going to hurt them and I’m not going to let you hurt them.” He nodded again. “That’s all well and good, but you’ll not be speaking to them to inform them of your clever plans. They don’t speak a word of trade or Selpati and it will be weeks before they have any effective understanding of either.” He tapped his head, “They don’t have the minds for it. I’m sure you’ll get your points across. Yun will be available to help you.” “What about your fist?” She retorted and he tutted. “He has his own tasks to attend to, don’t worry your inferior little head about it.” He said sarcastically, holding his hand out for the bowl. She returned it and he offered the robe instead. “This will suit you better than your tunic. They will get their clothes after you’re done. And Jonna,” He continued. “Remember. Comfort, including points they may not want as comfort.” He finished with a toothy grin. She shook her head at him and he shrugged. “Then you’ll be punished and so will they.” He left before she could say anything further, closing the shutters over the bars. ===000== Minutes passed. Or hours. It could be hard to tell without any appropriate points of reference. Jonna did trade the tunic out for the robe after washing her face with a small measure of water from a jug in the corner, leaving the flax garment folded neatly next to the bed of straw that was the cell’s only attempt at comfort. The door came open smartly on its hinges to her side and the guard Yun was there waiting for her. She waited near the door with her wrists outstretched but he merely looked at her impassively for a moment before stepping to one side, blocking the way up. She smiled at him and moved in the opposite direction. Only one other door was open in the hallway and she took that as her cue. A large tub of steaming water waited in the center of the room and the implements for a thorough bath rested on a table next to it. It wasn’t until she stepped fully through that she saw the other occupant of the room standing naked in a corner with their back to the wall. The girl couldn’t have been more than sixteen and was in sorry shape. Her matted reddish blond hair hung unevenly from her head down to her neck and her ribs showed clearly under her small breasts. Jonna looked at her awkwardly with sudden insecurity. The moment passed quickly. “I think this is for you.” She said in trade. Nothing, worse than nothing, additional fear showed through the girl’s eyes. “The bath, it will feel better..” Jonna said in her other tongue. Still nothing. Finally she simply gestured first to the girl and then to the waiting bath. Either she still didn’t understand or she was too scared to move. Jonna moved around to put the tub between her and the other and pointed more insistently. The girl limped forward without any obvious injuries and rested her hands on the side of the tub before dipping her fingers into the water to get a feel for the temperature. Jonna waited patiently for her to climb inside, an action that was accompanied by a small splash of water as the girl let her arms fall into the water. Jonna moved around to the side and placed her hand on her chest. “Jonna.” She said, then pointed at her charge. “Eadan.” The girl replied after a moment, placing her hand on her own chest. Jonna smiled in what she hoped was a disarming fashion and sat on a convenient stool while reaching for a small bar of soap. Eadan rested her head against the higher back of the wooden tub and sighed quietly before venturing a question in a light and melodic language Jonna had never heard before. “I don’t understand you.” the dark skinned woman replied simply in her native Selpati. The idea that neither of them spoke the same language seemed to come to Eadan after that and she quietly mumbled something else without looking at Jonna. The fair skinned youth brought one hand up out of the water and rested it palm up on the side of the tub to gesture at the bar in Jonna’s hand. She took it gently as it was offered and began to wash herself for what Jonna could only guess to be the first time in weeks. It seemed natural to take the other bar provided and begin working on the girl’s hair, a task that was going to take no small measure of care. They worked quietly, the trickle of water and the occasional chirp of a bird floating in through the window were the only sounds in the room. Eadan took her time in the warm water to brush off the dirt that seemed to coat her whole body. Jonna slowly brushed down the light red tangle until it was clean and straight, only realizing after she was finished that her pulse was up. She knew exactly why the baron had picked this one as her eyes inadvertently wandered the girl’s curves under the soapy water. This wasn’t really her fault, wasn’t either of their faults. Eadan was new, fresh even. Jonna had a lifetime of servitude behind her, of depravity. And Barton had told her to, threatened even to hurt the poor girl who wouldn't know why. Jonna started to rub Eadan’s shoulders to relax her, prompting a short inquiry she couldn’t understand. She just replied by shushing the girl and continued to deftly massage her shoulders. Eadan looked back and up at Jonna with a tired face and wary eyes. She either didn’t understand the intent of the older woman or didn’t want to believe it. Jonna's hands dipped lower than shoulders, under the water to the girl's breasts to rest the palms of her hands across them. Eadan pushed them gently away and shook her head. Jonna put her hands back and Eaden pushed them away yet again. This happened once more before Eaden made to keep Jonna's hands off by holding her wrists. The redhead gasped quietly as her fingers met the scars around Jonna's wrists and she ventured a low question. The dark skinned matron reiterated that they didn't speak the same language and they shared a nervous smile of mutual misunderstanding, then Jonna put her hands back again. Eaden didn't push them away. They rested together like that for a few minutes both the relative stillness. Jonna knew she didn't have forever though, so she gently forged ahead and let her arms sink further into the water and rested her hands on the freckled girl's lower belly. Eaden didn't protest verbally even though she did squirm back a little against the tub. Again, Jonna paused to let everything settle and Eaden slowly relaxed though her cheeks were now flushed under her freckles. Deep masculine laughter echoed in through the window and though it was faint and distant, Eaden's stomach tensed nervously under Jonna's touch. Jonna withdrew. She was already up to her upper arms in the water and had to lean uncomfortably around Eaden's shoulders and she didn't intend to strain herself so early in the day. Instead she sat at the side of the tub and as she did an idea struck her. She reached back into the water and gently grasped Eaden's hand to guide it between her legs. The teen resisted at first but Jonna was insistent and, as she quickly discovered, stronger. She held Eaden's hand with the palm positioned over the upper folds and kept it there until the hand relaxed. Jonna smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring manner, Eaden didn't look anything except a little confused. Finally Jonna made her move and began to move Eaden's hand in slow circles while keeping the palm against the skin. Eaden shook her head and said something in an emphatically negative tone of voice while trying to pull back but there was no give to Jonna's grip. Eaden struggled for a few more seconds and whimpered quietly in a pleading lilt. Jonna continued regardless, though she was fighting herself not to enjoy this too much. It was altogether too rare for her to be on the proverbial top and she had to continually remind herself that she wasn't really in control and that their positions could easily be reversed. Her hand enveloped Eaden's as they continued. The teen's breath quickened and shallowed with continued stimulation, tensing and untensing her legs against the walls of the tub. Jonna dared to press one of Eaden's fingers in against the line between her lips and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath. Emboldened she pushed further, soapy water slicked finger gliding with almost no effort along the inner folds. Eaden seemed to be working on breathless instinct now, Jonna hardly had to continue to guide her. The girl's palm rubbed more insistently against her mound, grinding against the soft flesh with instinctive desire. The climax was swift and unexpected from Jonna's point of view. Eaden just whimpered, pushed Jonna's hand to one side, and came forward at the waist into a hunched over sitting position. Water sloshed over the sides of the tub with the suddenness of the movement, sprinkling soapy foam around the legs of the stool and Jonna's bare feet. The matron felt her stomach do a flip as the moment receded, smothering a growing seed of pride with a deluge of shameful embarrassment. She was no better than the baron now, not because of what or why but because she had enjoyed it. She rose quickly, unable to look at Eaden, and took a large hanging towel from the wall. She folded it into a neat square before setting it on the stool and stepping quickly to the door. "We're done," Jonna said, somehow able to keep her voice level. The door opened and Yun stepped aside to let her out. She returned to her room without prompting and fell to the floor, drawing her knees to her chest and stared at the blank beige wall, lost in thought.