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Tess had wandered from the Manor to the lower potion of the estate in hopes of easing the ache in her neck. Hours of studying the budget and crop projections had left her muscles cramped and heart heavy. She could see no way around selling off some land and slaves in order to save most of the Manor’s staff and slaves from starvation for, at least, this season. She chuckled ruefully at the cruelty of Fate.
It was only two years before that Tess was in Yorkton studying English Literature. She and her bohemian friends rebelled, quietly at first, against the government of the Federated States. They longed for a return of the days of the Republic Union with the battle cry of “freedom for all.” A political system their grandparents could not even remember. Young and foolish they ignored the warnings of their professors to plunge head long into direct confrontation with government troops by trying to free slaves before an auction. If Togo Westerly did not have money and influence then Tess would have gone to the Federation Prison for thirty years. Just like her friends did. The friends she abandoned the minute her father arrived with the bond agreement. Now, Tess realized she really did go to a prison that day. It just looked a bit different with a nice house, horses, and slaves.
She stopped short, surprised she had walked all back to her own stable without even noticing where she was going. Thinking that a ride might be in order, Tess stepped into the stable through the open rear door. Her heart lurched in fear at the sight of her newest slave standing on a milking stool inches from Rufo’s stall. Tess froze in panic knowing her temperamental horse could do serious damage to this foolish girl if spooked.
“I’m sure our Master hasn’t forgotten you. She just gets busy. So if you let me, I’ll slide your feed bag on,” the blonde spoke softly and gently adjusted the bag’s straps on the quiet horse. “No living thing should go hungry.”
The slave’s voice eased Tess almost as much as it calmed her horse. Her worries were forgotten, for the moment. Tess found herself creeping closer to the source of the most pleasant sound she had ever heard. The tone resonated along Tess’ breast bone sending out chills that turned her skin to goose bumps. She could not help herself, she reached out to touch the shoulder of the beautiful blonde.
“Oh, God,” the slave would have fallen off the stool if Tess did not steady her. “Master, I’m so sorry, I was just..., please don’t blame Cory! He told me Rufo was off limits but...it’s so late,” the slave’s babbling caused Tess to grin, “and Rufo looked so hungry so...so, ...I’m so sorry, please, ...”
The blonde dropped to her knees at Tess’ feet. Sobbing replaced the soothing tones that had filled the stable just a few moments earlier. Tess reached down to smooth the slave’s golden hair as she hushed the tears.
“It’s okay. I’m not angry. Thank you for caring enough about Rufo to risk your fingers,” Tess knew she was enjoying the petting more than she should but she was willing to indulge herself. “Stand up, come on.”
The slave quickly obeyed and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. Stealing a glance at Tess, the blonde relaxed, slightly, finding only sincerity in those clear blue eyes.
“You are very pretty, girl,” Tess breathed as she pulled the slave closer.
“Than...k...,” the reply was swallowed in a delicate kiss.
Tess allowed her hands to roam along the firm, little body. She drew her closer still into the protective embrace. Tess had not noticed how fragile the slave was when she held her in the office.
“Yes, so very beautiful. Won’t you tell me your name?” Tess was stroking the girl’s flanks while she cooed in her ear, glad for the idle distraction from her problems. “You’re safe here, in my arms. Tell me. Make me happy.”
Conflict played across the delicate face. Her Master had commanded a response but the memory of her torture was preventing compliance. With a hesitant smile, the slave seemed to have reached a solution. She took Tess’ left hand in her right and with the index finger of her own left hand she began to trace.
“J...O..., oh God, no,” Tess thought in terror, “R...D,” her heart beating wildly in her chest as the slave continued, “A...N.”
The slave looked up innocently; relieved that she had been able to obey. Tess lost her control. Fear turned to rage. Her hand snapped up and backhanded the slave as if on it’s own. The blonde crumbled to the ground in a haze of pain and confusion. Tess pushed down a wave of horror at her actions to let her anger burn a little longer. Reaching down, she pulled the slave to her feet by the same silky hair she had so enjoyed caressing.
The enraged Master half dragged the frightened slave out of the barn. Tripping over her chains, the blonde fell face first in the dirty court yard. Tess proceeded to push, kick, and shove the nearly hysterical slave towards the Manor. Frustrated by their crawling pace, Tess grabbed her property by the hair once again and forced her to her feet.
“You had better hurry up, JORDAN!” Tess barked in the slave’s face.
Understanding an answer was not needed, Jordan doubled her pace and prayed she could stay on her feet. Up the front stairs of the house, through the ornate door, passed the alarmed faces of the house slaves, up the stairwell to the second floor, a stumble earned her a slap, down the long hallway, to her Master’s bedroom, and to her fate. Jordan collapsed in a heap when Tess released her hold on the soft blonde hair. Leaving her cowering on the floor, Tess slammed the door and turned on the monitor alert. The hum assured the room was free of listening devices.
“You can READ!” Tess hissed grabbing the slave by the throat to lift her off her feet. “How old were you when you were taken? And I want the truth this time!”
“Twenty, please,” Jordan struggled to get her breath.
“Are you from the Northern Boundary?” Tess ignored the slave’s pain.
“Please,” Jordan was sure she would pass out, “you said, I was safe here,” the strangle hold on her throat lessened and her feet were returned to the floor, “safe, with you.”
The heart break in the voice took the fire out of Tess’ fury. Jordan had believed the words spoken in passion. For a few fleeting seconds, the slave trusted that she was safe in her Master’s embrace. Only to have Tess terrorize her.
“Tell me,” Tess released her grip but wanted answers still.
“I was free born in the Northern Boundary. My father died and my mother remarried before I was three,” Jordan defiantly kept her eyes focused on Tess. “Her husband never wanted me around but he waited until my mother died before he took me across the border to sell me to traders who didn’t pay much attention to the law.”
“You could have told any Auction Supervisor and they would have freed you,” Tess needed for the slave to be at fault.
“The traders use, what did you call it, ‘conditioning.’ Well, they were really good at it too. I didn’t talk for the first three months. As for the Auction Supervisors, they are as corrupt as the traders. And,” Jordan brushed away a stray tear, “I have a younger half sister that my step father could legally sell. If I went back, he promised me he would take her over the border. I won’t be responsible for that.”
“Instead, you’ll be responsible for Federation Agents liquidating all my slaves and seizing my property and tossing my sorry ass in prison,” Tess grumbled, “because I have a slave that can read.”
“Nobody knows,” Jordan panicked with the first realization of the danger she placed her new Master in, “just you and me. I’ll never do it again, I swear. I don’t want anybody killed or you to go to jail. It was a mistake. You confused me. I just wanted to please you, I have to please you,” the tears came in aching sobs. “I promise, I’ll forget, I’ll unlearn it, please, Master!”
Tess felt foolish listening to pathetic begging. The truth was she had started the whole thing. Attempting to seduce the slave, she left herself open to the trouble familiarity brings. How many times had Poe counseled her against passion with slaves? And now, Jordan stood before her pleading for her life because of Tess’ wanton lust. No, not her life. The slave was pleading for the Manor, for the other slaves, for Tess but not for herself.
“Shh, it’ll be all right,” Tess tried to ease the girl, pulling her closer. “I was unprepared for this situation and lost my temper. We should be able to keep your secret between ourselves,” The girl’s crying did not cease much to Tess’ distress, “Calm yourself, come on, easy, now. I’ll keep you safe,” the promise slipped out too quickly and was one more burden for Tess to carry.
Jordan buried her face in the soft cotton of Tess’ blouse. She wrapped her arms around the strong body and clung like a second skin. In spite of her Master’s actions in the stable, Jordan did feel safe snuggled into Tess’ strong frame.
“Jordan,” Tess kissed the silky blonde hair cradled at her breasts, relieved the tears were slowing, “that’s a beautiful name. It maybe worth the risk just to be able to call you by such a enchanting name.”
The slave rewarded Tess with a chuckle. Jordan was desperate to show her gratitude for being forgiven this terrible crime. The slave had only been taught one way to delight her Masters. Feigning bravery, Jordan slipped her hand into Tess’ pants and kneaded the tight ass cheek that filled her palm. A moan hinted she was on the right road back into her Master’s good grace.
“Master, I would like very much for you to be pleased with me,” Jordan lifted her head to gaze into blue eyes heavy with arousal.
“I would like that too,” Tess leaned down to resume the kiss that had been interrupted in the stable.
Feeling her passion rise again over her reason, Tess let her hands slip under the slave’s blouse. The soft skin of her belly was warm and slightly sweaty after their struggles. Tess trailed small, nibbling kisses down Jordan’s slender throat stopping only to suck more aggressively at the throbbing pulse point. Both Jordan’s hands were squeezing Tess’ ass in time with the kisses.
Tess knew she would not be able to hold out too long with that kind of attention so she decided to get an advantage and strip the girl. Reaching under the shirt and up the back, Tess stopped everything when she felt the scars. The hard, rough edges of the whip scars trapped her wandering finger tips. The hideous pain of the girl’s captivity lay trembling beneath her touch. Images of another brutalized back raced through Tess’ mind unchecked.
“Master, are you ill?” Jordan was concerned with Tess’ abrupt halt.
“I, ah, I am neglecting my duties,” Tess disengaged herself from the surprised slave and turned on her heals. “You may return to your work. I will be along in a while to see to Rufo.”
“But,” Jordan was interrupted by the opening of the door.
“Ah, there you are,” Poe spoke directly to Jordan. “You must go to the stable at once. The horses are restless.”
Jordan looked from Poe’s firm face to her Master’s slouching shoulders. She did not understand any of the last few moments but she knew no explanation would be forthcoming from the two silent, dark figures. Nodding her acceptance, Jordan rushed out the door to hurry back to where she had been dragged from no more than an hour before.
“The house is in quite an uproar,” Poe waited until the door shut solidly behind the fleeing slave. “It took me some shouting to calm them.”
“It was a misunderstanding,” Tess decided she would shield Poe from the potentially deadly knowledge about Jordan.
“Your slaves are afraid you are becoming more like Togo everyday.”
Tess sighed. She wanted to say it was not true. That her ruthless father’s ways were behind them. If they gave her a chance then she would free them all. Tess dreamed of liberating the Manor from the clutches of slavery. But each day that hope was moving farther and farther out of her grasp. It would not surprise Tess if she was to wake one morning to find herself crueler than Togo himself.
“They may not be wrong,” Tess turned to face Poe. “What am I going to do? The governor wants sixty percent of our harvest because...,”
“Because he spared you your rightful punishment,” Poe finished for her.
“After his cut, then the villages must be fed before we can even think about our own house. So, I can lose slaves to starvation or sell them but that will mean even less food next year.”
“And the governor will surely want seventy percent of the smaller harvest.”
“It’s all my fault,” Tess flopped in a nearby chair.
“Yes, it is all your fault,” Poe ignored her open mouthed shock at his directness. “Are you going to make things right by beating and bedding your slaves? Or, perhaps you plan to just make life worse for all of us because you are miserable?”
“Poe...?” Tess was stunned that he would try to goad her so.
The man crossed the room without another word. He pulled Tess to her feet and gave her more than a little pat on the cheek. Poe did not wait for his Master to regain herself.
“Listen to me,” his tone was harsh as he held her inches from his face by the front of her shirt, “I lost my wife to your bastard father’s relentless lust. You will not follow his example. I will not allow you to sully her memory by becoming the very image of her rapist, her murderer. Your mother deserves better than that!”
“I can barely remember her, Poe,” Tess whispered trying to push out the one clear memory she had of the woman.
“That’s why I’m here for you, my sweet Tessa,” Poe released his hold seeing she had heard the truth. “She will never be truly lost to us as long as we honor her. Your cowardice happened and we must deal with the aftermath but you can not turn from our goal; her dream. I will not let you.”
Poe let Tess cry her fears into his shoulder as he had done all her life. He would keep her on the path to freedom. Freedom for them all.
* * *
Early the next morning, Jordan was finishing with the last stall when a heavy hand settled on her shoulder. Spinning out from under the weight, she readied her shovel to defend herself. Poe’s expression was controlled amusement.
“Do you mean to harm me?”
“Oh, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you,” a spark of real fear in her voice as she dropped the shovel. “I would never..., so very sorry...,”
“Don’t worry,” Poe laughed lightly, “had you tried to strike me, I would have broken your neck before your muscles could flinch. Now, I need a horse. Who is ready to go?”
“Ace could use a run most.” Then the girl found a little courage to ask, “Poe, are you allowed to ride?”
“Do you think I’m running away?” He chuckled.
“Oh, no, forgive me,” she blushed. “It’s just, I never met a slave that was allowed to ride.”
“That’s because our Poe is no ordinary slave,” Tosca’s voice made Jordan shiver with fright as the man entered the stable. “Are you, old boy?”
“Lord Tosca, does Master Tess know of your arrival?” Poe did not wait for a reply before turning to Jordan, “Be a good girl and go saddle Ace for me.”
Jordan was glad for permission to put distance between herself and the wicked Lord. She turned to hurry out but was stopped short by his shout.
“Not so fast,” Tosca grinned without humor. “Let me look at you. Ah, I see my sister has doubled chained you. That may not be effective enough for a runner like you. What do you think, Poe? I, myself, always preferred clipping the tendons of brats with itchy feet.”
Poe stepped forward to insert himself between Tosca and the girl. The smell of the degenerate Lord over powered the horse’s odor. His stench of filth was only made worse with stale stink of intoxicating syrup. Tosca had obviously been of a bender. The dangerous man was even more so now that he was tired and drunk.
“My Lord, I assure you, Jordan has settled well into the Manor. Please, let me escort you back...,”
“I DON’T NEED AN ESCORT TO MY OWN HOUSE!” Tosca swayed slightly. “Tell you what, why don’t you go find your Master and tell her I bring news from the governor,” Tosca smiled when Poe did not budge. “So predictable, I’ll let that one go. Now Poe, be a good little slave and go find your Master! When you do, tell her the governor has reconsidered and wants seventy percent of the harvest.”
Tosca pushed Poe aside to grab the blonde. He was sure it took all the slave’s reserve not to strangle him. His hands roughly groped the girls breast. Squeezing and pinching, he was pleased when she winced. He loved wringing strangled whimpers from this slave. It was a shame he had to sell her so soon after stealing her. Especially regretful, now, that the money was spent.
“Well, my little bitch, I think Poe wants to watch. Okay by me,” Tosca forced the girl to her knees, “Seems my pants are very tight in the crotch, see to it.”
“My Master said I don’t have to do this anymore,” Jordan’s wretched reasoning was slapped to an end.
“Be obedient, Jordan,” Poe cautioned hoping to spare the girl a beating.
It would be too perilous to leave Jordan alone in the hopes he could find Tess in time. Poe decided he would stay to make sure Tosca limited the abuse.
“Oooo, he’s a coach now,” Tosca laughed. “Get to it, bitch.”
Jordan steeled herself. She would not give the evil man the pleasure of seeing her cry. Quickly, she undid the snaps of the filthy pants and eased the engorged organ out. The angry red tip was weeping already. At least he would come as fast as before, she thought idly.
“Tell me it’s the most beautiful tool you’ve ever seen.”
“It’s the most beautiful tool, my Lord,” she replied without enthusiasm.
“And the biggest.”
“The biggest, my Lord,” even with the extra inch of grime, she was sure she had seen bigger eunuchs.
“Beg me for it.”
“Oh, please, my Lord, let me pleasure you,” she spoke what was required.
Tosca thrust his hips forward as she took him in her mouth. He knew he was close to spilling his seed but could do nothing to slow the pace. Control was never part of his world view. Two or three low grunts and he lost it. Disappointed that the girl had not suffered enough, he slapped her hard across the face after withdrawing.
“My Lord,” Poe’s voice was barely inhibited rage, “Master Tess will be most unhappy to learn of you beating her slaves.”
“Master Tess, Master Tess,” the pouty Lord mocked. “Tell me Poe, what doesn’t make my sister unhappy.”
Tosca, bored with the slaves, wandered out of the stable as rudely as he entered. Poe watched him until he was out of sight. Having his back to the man was not something Poe was willing to risk. Satisfied Tosca had indeed left, Poe went to Jordan.
“Help me saddle the horse.” He lifted her face to inspect the split lip. “Not so bad. Some cool water will keep it from swelling. Then stay in the loft for the rest of the morning. If Tosca comes back before I do, hide. Even if he sees you, I doubt he’ll be able to climb the ladder in his condition.”
“Thank you, Poe,” she kissed his palm.
“I’m not your lord, girl, no empty thanks are needed. You have nothing to be grateful for this morning,” Poe put his arm around her as they headed for the horses in the outer coral.
* * *
Tess listened to Tosca ramble on and on around mouthfuls of food. She had insisted he bath before lunch but it did little to sober him. At least, the smell was a bit better.
“...so the governor says, ‘Tosca, give it to him up the’...”
“Yes, that is a charming story,” Tess could stand the torturous tale no more, “but why did the governor raise the percentages.”
“To punish you! Tess, I thought you were the smarty of the family.”
“And why did he think sixty percent was not enough to punish me?” She was sure of the answer when he smiled at her.
“Because I told him the rumors about a short fall on the crop and your still zealous desire to free your slaves,” his eyes burning with hatred.
Tess was so exhausted she could not even get angry. She spent so many sleepless nights trying to save the Manor and here her worthless brother was more than ready to sacrifice her. Poe was right about Tosca; use him before he uses you.
“Listen, I need you to carry a reply to the governor for me,” Tess began to set into motion events that could either save or destroy them but, at least, they would not be sheep waiting for slaughter.
“What? Am I the little message boy now? Use the computer or send Poe. He’s the ‘happy to be of service’ slave. By the way, where was he going that he needed a horse.”
“Tosca, if you would shut up then I’ll explain everything. The computer lines are too easily tapped and Poe is heading to Hathport. Our storage units are beyond capacity and we haven’t even started harvest yet.”
“But, but, but the rumors,” Tosca was crestfallen.
“I started the rumors of a short fall to get prices to climb. We’ve had a record fish haul, excellent cattle and dairy take,” she grinned at his pained expression. “The harvest will just be more to an already overflowing yield. Poe’s gone to ask for storage rentals at Hathport.”
She watched her silent brother. His face was etched in disappointment. Tess wondered what thing she had done to him to make him hate her so. It, of course, was not what she did but what Togo had done. Naming her as the Master crushed her brother’s dreams and ego.
“So, the seventy percent will not be an issue?” There was sadness in the voice.
“Tell him, I am so remorseful I will send seventy five percent,” Tess took a big bite of pie. “Mmmm, try the cobbler. It is delicious.”
“Yes, I’m sure it is.” Then he broke into a wicked grin, “You know what else is delicious? That little blonde bitch I sold you. She sucked me so hard today...,”
Tess flashed deadly look that silenced her brother. Rising in a graceful motion that hid her trembling, she rang for the house boy. The young boy entered quietly through the pantry.
“Ben, my brother has had enough to eat and drink. Please clear the plates. Tosca, I suggest you pack and leave for the capital at once. Be gone by the time I get back,” she growled as she strode from the room.
* * *
Tess was confident her anger was displaced. She had enough psychology units to know that emotions could be misdirected when one did not feel “allowed” to express them. So, her current state of agitation must be because of her brother’s actions with the governor and not his raping Jordan. After all, Jordan was their slave to use as they saw fit. Tess would have taken liberties herself if Poe had not interrupted. Right?
“Displaced anger is the reason I’m running to check on her, isn’t it?” Tess thought to herself. “Why else would I care?”
Tess entered the stable to find Cory and Jordan in the last stall. The two had been laughing but stopped the moment Tess’ boots thudded to a halt in front of them. They rushed to hide the food in Jordan’s lap but it was too late.
“Why are you eating in here?” Tess frowned in confusion, forgetting her original motive for coming.
“It’s my fault, Master, please let Cory go,” Jordan stood hanging her head. “I’m too willful to eat from the slob pails. I’m sorry.”
“Slop pails?”
“I know that’s where I’m suppose to eat but I couldn’t bring myself to do it,” there was resignation in her voice.
“Cory,” Tess felt that nagging headache beginning behind her eyes, “can you explain this so even I can understand it?”
“Dinah said Jordan’s ungrateful and can’t eat in her kitchen ‘cause of Jordan being a runaway,” Cory was respectful but had no fear of Tess.
“Her kitchen, huh?” Tess took Jordan by the arm and guided her out of the stable.
The two made their way to the slop pails. Dumping the first one over, Tess poked the contents around thoroughly with her boots while keeping a gentle hold on Jordan.
“Anything edible there?” Tess raised an eyebrow but did not let Jordan move from her side. “Anything fit for my table?”
“No, nothing fit for you, Master.”
Tess went to the second and third pails repeating the process. The foul smell of spoiling food made her gag. Her boots were caked in muck. When she asked, Jordan dutifully answered there was nothing fit for her Master’s table.
Tess guided Jordan to the kitchen door leaving rotting food where it spilled. Pushing Jordan in first, Tess watched Dinah’s face change from fury to fear. Tess sat with a plop and planted her boots on the table.
“Dinah, somebody knocked over the slop pails,” Tess put her arm around Jordan’s waist and rested her cheek on the trembling slave’s hip. “Could you clean my boots for me?”
“Of course, Master,” Dinah took the dishrag from her apron pocket.
“Not with the cloth,” Tess lowered Jordan’s pants just enough to expose the smooth curve of her hip. “It’ll leave little balls of lint. Use your hands to get the crap off then you can buff them with your apron,” Tess grinned.
Dinah kept her eyes down as she began the disgusting task. Tess moaned for the cook’s benefit when she kissed Jordan’s soft skin.
“Dinah, have you met my lovely new slave?” Tess continued before Dinah could answer. “She’s so beautiful. I paid three times what she’s worth. I might breed her. It will need to be a handsome stud to match her. By the way, how old is your Mickey.”
Dinah’s mouth dropped. Her hands fell to her sides unable to complete her work.
“Master, you meant to free him soon,” she stuttered.
“I will. I keep my promises but in the mean time...,”
“He would never be able leave his children,” Dinah interrupted.
“HIS CHILDREN?” Tess slammed her feet to the floor with a bang and rose slowly to tower over the red head. “His children? No, MY SLAVES! Just like it is my house, my boots, MY KITCHEN!”
Dinah fell at Tess’ feet begging through her tears.
“You failed me by not feeding all my household. So, you shall finish cleaning my boots and my kitchen and then the slop pails before I have Poe take you to the fields.”
“Oh, please, not that. Don’t send my back to the fields. I worked so hard to get here,” Dinah was sobbing.
Before she could reply, Tess felt a small tug on her sleeve. Jordan’s face was awash in tears. Her lips quivered but no words emerged.
“Jordan, what is it?” Tess thought the girl would faint.
“Master, please, don’t send her to the fields.”
“She starved you,” Tess was stunned.
“Because she respects you, Master. She believed I was unworthy of your house because I’m a runaway.” Jordan’s voice fell, “And she’s right.”
Tess took a deep breath. Her righteous rage had been doused. Both slaves thought her to be a vengeful master. One that punished harshly. One to be feared above all else. One, so much, like Togo Westerly.
“How brutal my household grows. To think I would approve of senseless suffering. My fault, all my fault,” Tess thought staring at the pretty slave and then down to Jordan’s chained feet. “Then what should her punishment be.”
Jordan thought for several minutes.
“She should feed me.”
Tess laughed. It was a true, deep, happy laugh. She had not laughed so since Yorkton. The simplicity of Jordan’s solution lightened Tess’ heart for one full beat.
“Feeding you it is. You may have anything from my kitchen even a suckling pig if you like,” Tess could not suppress her toothy smile, “but she still must clean this mess up.”
“Yes, of course, and your boots too,” Dinah remained kneeling at her Master’s feet.
“Would it be acceptable for me to help her clean up?” Jordan hesitated.
Tess nodded. Her grin just as wide. Jordan blushed under such scrutiny. And it happened again, Tess laughed a true, deep, happy laugh.
