Slave Trade - Inspecting the Merchandise
Slave Trade - Inspecting the Merchandise
copyright 2010 comidacomida
Sidney hadn't realized he had fallen asleep until he was awakened by the sound of the work-shed door opening. Jolted awake almost immediately, the fox remained, nonetheless, somewhat confused in his grogginess. It had been anything but an ordinary day. It had been filled with stress and chaos, and Sidney realized that it would probably only get worse. He didn't know what time it was, but he saw darkness beyond the opened door.
A shadow crossed the entrance for a moment. Sidney's heart beat increased in tempo as the doorway was taken up by his master, Lord Hector. The stag's gleaming white fur reflected the moonlight like a glowing mirror of platinum, making him appear almost to glow. The fox, who had stood when the door opened, fell back to his knees, lowering his eyes immediately. He heard the door close quietly.
Sidney did not look up as he heard his master move away from the door and into the work-shed. The fox fought back the urge to droop as he heard Lord Hector move away from him, but, at the same time, he felt relieved. Sidney took the chance to take stock of his situation, ears blushing immediately when he realized that he was still naked. His master was entitled to view as much of his slaves as he wished, but something about being bare before the stag concerned him; what if Lord Hector caught sight of his interest. Damning himself, Sidney realized that thinking about it created a response within his sheath, and he felt his member stirring, poking out of its hiding space unbidden.
"You've done well with the dressing." Lord Hector spoke quietly, his firm voice carrying a sweet, melodious tone to Sidney's ears. Though it was barely above a whisper, the fox had no time hearing it and clung to every word; his master had praised him.
"Thank you, Master." the fox glowed at the compliment, "I wish only to please." the words came out of his muzzle, a veiled admission of just how much he wanted to serve. He heard the sound of his master returning to him from across the room. Sidney wished longingly that his loincloth was within reach.
"Stand for me, Sidney." Lord Hector requested. Whimpering inaudibly, Sidney complied. He tried standing at a half-angle, avoiding meeting the stag's eyes as a suitable excuse. The fox folded his paws across his abdomen in what he hoped looked like a casual stance, praying to the gods that he could hide his excitement at having his master so close to him. He felt as if his body betrayed him, as the proximity of his paws and their warmth made his member emerge just a little further. He cursed his body under his breath.
Without saying a word, Lord Hector approached him. The stag came from the side, and stopped uncomfortably close; Sidney imagined that he could feel his master's breath against his fur, and fought back the urge to shiver at how near the perfect, silvery body was from him. He kept his eyes down, biting down on his tongue until he could taste blood in an attempt to get his body under control. The stag walked around him towards his backside.
"A good master knows his slaves well." Lord Hector noted, "A good master can tell a lot about a slave by body structure... distinguishing features... scars... visual cues... even just by how he carries himself." the stag slowly circled him while speaking. Sidney felt his tail begin to tuck slightly as his master walked around to his front, "Hands by your side, Sidney." the stag stated casually. The fox, swallowing the developing knot in his throat, complied.
"Now..." Lord Hector paused, offering simply, "You are a fox... medium build..." one of the stag's hands pressed against his chest and stroked down to the top of his abdomen, "smooth fur..." Sidney whimpered, this time a little more audibly, tortured by the perfect touch, and he felt a slickness as more of his flesh emerged from his sheath. If Lord Hector noticed, he didn't say anything.
"Yes, Master..." Sidney spoke, fighting to keep his teeth from chattering at the stimulation merely being near the stag brought him.
Lord Hector knelt down and brushed the fox's toes with a hand, "Digitigrade stance." the stag's antlers brushed Sidney's thigh and, for a moment, he thought he was going to lose himself and cover his master's head with his seed. He fought against every impulse of his body and managed to stay himself. Lord Hector stood, "Give me a paw." he held out his hand within Sidney's vision, and the fox, without even a pause, placed a paw into the hand.
The stag turned Sidney's paw over and inspected the velvety-black pads on his fingers and palm, "I see..." and he let the paw go, and took a step even closer. Sidney jumped with the stag's muzzle came to rest against his neck, and Lord Hector took a deep breath, inhaling right against his fur. Sidney's eyes fluttered, and he had just enough time to move his paw, coating his wrist and palm in his own jetting fluid. "...and smell." the stag stated.
Lord Hector about-faced and took several steps back across the work-shed. Having no other option, Sidney quickly brought his paw to his muzzle, and removed all evidence of his 'inadvertent mis-step'. He was no stranger to the taste of seed, but he was not in the habit of consuming his own. Regardless, he made quick work of it as his master stood, gazing at the still sleeping horse across the way.
"You're from a southern village, are you not, Sidney?" Lord Hector questioned suddenly.
The fox jumped to attention, brushing his tongue against the roof of his mouth one last time before speaking up, "I am, Master." He wasn't certain how his master had known, but he knew well enough not to ask.
"In Deirmyna, I would wager." Lord Hector proposed, mentioning Sidney's kingdom of birth.
"Yes, Master."
"Your parents sold you when you were in your early teens. You were with a traveling cartel until you were sold to pit slavers."
"Yes, Master. You are right, as always." the fox said the words by rote, but he was astounded. Had Lord Hector studied his history? Had his master taken an interest in him?
"I understand you were owned for a time by Lord Bulhue... is that when your hip was broken?" the stag questioned.
"It was, Master." Sidney answered, completely dumbfounded by the stag's intimate knowledge of him and that his master had known of a past injury. It was a horrible experience, and one he hoped he wouldn't have to go into detail about.
"And it is fair to assume that your interest is in me, as opposed to the horse?" the question held with it a faint barb of pointed humor.
Sidney knew it was nigh impossible for his master to have not seen the signs. The fox was well aware that Lord Hector would have been far too astute to have let such an obvious display go by unseen. The slave was optimistic, but he was also a realist. Regardless, the direct phrasing of the question caught him unaware, and he was unable to answer.
"I will take that as a 'yes'." the stag chuckled.
"Y... yes, Master." Sidney hung his head, ears and tail drooping. He was humiliated, but, at the same time, the knowledge that Lord Hector knew made him even more embarrassed by the fact that he enjoyed the embarrassment... he enjoyed it a lot.
"And I assume, by this time, that you are either wondering how I know, or think of me some kind of wizard." the stag offered, obviously bemused by the situation. He took a seat on bail of hay. Sidney gave no response as his master had not asked him a question; he knew his place, and his place was not to speak until asked for a response.
"You may ask a question... I know you wish to." Lord Hector offered.
"I..." Sidney took a seat on the ground in front of his master, "I do not know what to ask if I can only ask one."
The stag's smile comforted the fox, "Then ask until I tell you to stop. You seem like a good fox, Sidney... and there will have to be SOME element of dialogue between us if you are going to be a slave handler for me."
"How..." Sidney paused, thrust into unfamiliar territory with having the opportunity to ask things of his master. He had so many questions, thoughts, considerations, quandaries; how would he be able to give them all a voice. Regardless, he tried his best, starting with the most recent question, "How do you... know so much about... me?"
Lord Hector's muzzle turned up slightly in a casual smile, "As I said... I know much about you simply because of what I can tell from your body." Numerous dirty thoughts flittered through Sidney's mind as he wondered how many things he could learn from the stag's beautiful body, but that consideration did not linger for more than a moment as Lord Hector continued, "I am well learned, as you may have guessed, and a body can tell much."
"How, Master?" Sidney inquired, eyes gazing at the hooves just at the top of his vision. He never thought he'd have an opportunity to really speak with his master, let alone help direct a conversation.
"Well... let us take you, for example, Sidney," Lord Hector began, talking much more casually than any slave master he'd ever had talk to him when providing any of the minimal education he'd received, "There are three main kingdoms that have stances like yours: Meisenyl, Diermyna, and Vensii. Vensii doesn't permit slavery, so that limits your origins to the first two."
"Stances like mine, Master?" Sidney shut his muzzle audibly when he realized he had somehow interjected another question while his master was still speaking. He felt the phantom-sensation of a whip lashing his back, wondering what horrible torture Ulric could devise for him... yet the elk continued, to Sidney's surprise, completely unfazed, and even offered an explanation.
"You have proper paws and your feet are built such that you stand on what would otherwise be called 'toes'. That is opposed to the alternate stance most folk born in Tenvier, Larana, or here in Pross would take, walking on their entire feet like the humans of legend." the elk explained patiently.
"Master..." the fox ventured, "I stand like you. Aren't you from Pross?" he tried to phrase it as best he could, but found no way to not compare himself, a lowly slave, to the wonderful magnificence that was his Master... but it was a comparison he was unable to avoid.
"Ah... very good eye, Sidney. You are right... we do have a similar stance... and you may wish to know, that Deer, Elk, Pigs, Horses, and other folk from Pross don't have hooves."
"So..." Sidney reasoned, "You... are not from here?"
"Very good, Sidney. That is correct. My family was from Vensii, originally... much like the new slave." he motioned to the horse.
The fox paused at that, looking over to the sleeping horse. Although he and his master were speaking softly, Sidnely found it odd that the horse was still asleep-- Sidney certainly would have woken up if people were talking around him. The fox suddenly halted his thoughts as he looked back to his master's hooves, "You... are from the same kingdom as he was?"
"Yes. I came here a dozen years ago, or more." Lord Hector volunteered the information, a fact that Sidney did not miss, and it gave him warm feelings all over.
"But... you speak Prossian?" Sidney asked.
"You are from Diermyna, but you speak Prossian." Lord Hector countered, "and without even a hint of a Diermynian accent."
"As you said, Master... I was fourteen when I was sold to slavers, and I was made to learn Prossian and unlearn Diermynian." Sidney lowered his head. When his master did not respond, he quickly asked, "How did you know I was sold to slavers?"
"Most slaves who were captured usually have a litany of scars from the experience. Aside from the fact that you were a 'private slave' to Lord Bulhue, the only scars you have are those that identify a slave who had to learn the difference between cartel and pit slavers. Hyenas, if I'm not mistaken."
"You are right, as always, Master." Sidney offered, "There were many differences."
The fox heard his master nod silently in agreement, "Indeed." the elk acknowledged, "As a slave owner, I've come to understand and appreciate those differences."
"As a slave, I have as well." Sidney offered before he could shut his muzzle, feeling his ears burn at his own comment.
The stag laughed good naturedly in response, "indeed." A rustling of hay off to the side signaled that the laughter had awoken the horse, unlike their talking.
The stallion had sat up immediately, fighting back a grimace as he flexed an arm. His eyes locked onto Lord Hector, and the horse's muzzle twisted into a scowl, not unlike the one with which he had faced the hyenas. Sidney's heart began to beat rapidly as he feared the worst, but he froze in place as Lord hector addressed the stallion in the strange language the fox had heard the new slave speak. Surprise flowed across the horse's muzzle, relaxing his features in slack attentiveness.
Sidney was not sure for how long the two spoke, but he kept his attention on the horse, whose expression quickly changed from surprise to indignation, then from indignation to something else... something much more... downcast. The horse spent the rest of the discussion with eyes facing the floor, not unlike most of the slaves Sidney had come to know. Seeing that from the horse gave the fox the feeling of a cold stone stuck in his stomach; it felt somehow wrong.
Lord Hector did most of the talking, the stallion speaking up only every now-and-again. The language, as Sidney listened, had a beauty in its own way, much like the native language he was made to forget. Though Sidney didn't understand any of the words, the tones they each used seemed to tell him a lot. As with any slave, Lord Hector had little trouble establishing roles with the stallion, and it was obvious that he controlled the conversation while the horse obligingly answered questions.
As the discussion came to a close, the elk pointed to the fox, and Sidney squirmed when he saw the horse's two piercing, blue eyes stare at him. The horse nodded, not taking his eyes off of the fox. Sidney squirmed in place as Lord hector turned to face him, "He understands that you are his handler."
"Master..." Sidney noted, the word starting out almost as a feeble 'yip' until he could get his voice under control, "How am I supposed to direct him if we don't speak the same language?"
"That, in itself, is a lesson for you both." the stag noted with a pleased grin on his face, "Now... if there's nothing else... it is late, and I believe my bed is waiting for me. Is that everything?" Lord Hector directed the question straight at him.
"Just... one more question please Master." Sidney pleaded. He wasn't sure if the question was literal, but there was one thing he had to know.
"Yes, Sidney?" Lord Hector invited the question.
"His... um... sheath, Master... is there something wrong with it?" he asked, his ears blushing.
The elk looked back to the horse, who was seated attentively cross-legged. It was a relaxed position, but it granted a rather open view of his groin. Sidney couldn't help but look at the alien-member that hung between the stallion's legs-- he had never seen anything quite like it because the furless sheath was not attached, allowing it to hang freely.
"Ah... I see what you mean." the stag noted with a half-chuckle, "No, Sidney... there is nothing wrong with it. Vensians do not have sheathes... that is called foreskin."
"Master?" Sidney ventured.
"Yes, Sidney?"
"You had said that Vensii does not allow slavery..." the fox let the comment trail off, not about to second guess his master, but hoping the stag could explain further.
"Correct. This new slave was not a slave-- he was a warrior. He must have been captured in battle to have become a slave in Pross."
The answer made Sidney more than a little uncomfortable, but his mind, still wandering, began looking in a new direction. His eyes slowly raised their gaze as Lord Hector stood. His imagination began working overtime as he realized that his master's family was from Vensii, which meant that the stag was also-- he glanced back to the horse's groin, then to his master as the elk exited the work shed. The alien-look... the exoticness... he was certain that Lord Hector would be even more amazing for it.
The stallion cleared his throat, gaining the fox's attention once again. Sidney looked to the new slave and immediately felt the discomfort and unease settle back in. "Uh... hi." the fox noted, feeling his ears droop slightly.
The horse pointed to the bandage on his bicep, looking at Sidney. The fox paused for a moment as an uneasy half-smile appeared for a moment on the horse's muzzle, and the new slave spoke a few words in Vensian.
"I don't understand." Sidney answered.
"I.... dond... undur... stant." the horse repeated the words.
"Right..." Sidney let out an exasperated breath, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead. He tried to contemplate a next course of action, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Lord Hector, the horse in front of him, and the many similarities they shared, and their many differences.
He finally remembered that he still lacked his loincloth and grabbed it from the hay nearby, "Better get some sleep." he said aloud to himself as much as the horse, "I can already tell tomorrow isn't going to get any easier."