It's a Slaves' World - Chapter 7

Cook set a record for efficiency in packing up and shipping out Valencia and her entourage. That woman is ruthless when crossed. I watched from an upstairs window as she personally loaded the finally trunk from the walk into the back of Valencias’ carriage, then roughly helped quicken Valencia in mounting the step of her carriage. With a slam of the carriage door, they were off. Turning away from the window I could do nothing but smile at the memory of Valencias’ face when I informed her of her imminent departure. How quickly her story had changed. ‘Kiara who?’ She had feigned ignorance. ‘I was trying to protect you from a wicked slave.’ Obviously since the slave did everything in her power to avoid both Valencia and myself.

I glanced down at the image I held of Kiara. She had been in my hands only yesterday and now she was as gone as before. Of course Valencia ‘had no idea where the slave had been sent’ and ‘only wished she had known!’ That conniving woman! She must have put years of planning into this summer. Her conveniently eligible to marry daughter spending an unplanned summer at the local, tragically single, bachelors’ estate. I obviously underestimated the woman, but she obviously underestimated my determination. I wouldn’t have kept the candle lit for 14 years to give up when she is so close.

Kiara’s POV

A sudden flood of air and light left me relieved the sack that had been suffocating in the summer sun had finally been removed. It took a few seconds of gasping breaths to realize what the sack removal could possibly mean. I’m here. I’m at Treytons. I’m sure Valencia was exaggerating about his cruelty. I mean compared to her how bad could he possibly be?

Rough hands lifted me out of the back of the cart I had been sitting in. My legs cramped and my hands bound, the guards had to hold me up for while they cut the restraints around my wrists. With a light shove, we started towards a rather average looking gate around a rather average looking castle. Well I would consider this massive stone structure to be a castle.

After just a few minutes I found myself standing before a man, and I do believe it’s safe to say that he was Treyton. Sitting on a throne, Treyton was an overweight man about 50 years old and seriously lacking in personal hygiene. His stench was turning my stomach from here and you could see the sheen on his unwashed skin in the gloom of the unventilated room. Greased back hair, fatty fingers with excessive numbers of gold rings, and dressed in fashions that must have been from his father’s wardrobe, Treyton looked like a sorry excuse for a man. Especially after my exposure to Aiden.

"This must be the girl Valencia sent me as a present!" His whiny voice spluttered the words in a way that made me wonder if he could even read. I watched as he dragged himself out of his homemade throne and down the three stairs that had been separating us. Swallowing back the bile that appeared in my mouth, I did my best to keep a submissive pose and hold my breath. I bit my tongue when his hands started to explore freely. He lingered everywhere, squeezing my breasts roughly as though they would somehow provide more entertainment if he could pop them. His hands traced the curve of my hips over and over again, agonizingly slowly. He worked his way behind me, his hands grasped each one of my butt cheeks, followed by grinding himself against me. I could feel the hardness in his pants pressing against me. It was all I could do to clench my fists and keep from running. "Beautiful." He mumbled against my ear, his foul breath bringing up more bile. "You will be fun."

Aidens’ POV

It took the rest of the afternoon to locate the slaves that had delivered Kiara, and the relief of knowing where she was, was slightly offset by the knowledge of where Valencia sent her. Treyton is known for his taste in women. He had the best of the best and enjoyed showing them off. It only took a messenger an hour to return with an invitation for supper from Treyton. Dressing in a rush, I was at his door waiting for someone to answer the damn thing!

"Lord Aiden! Come in! Make yourself at home!" His exuberance at having someone over was obvious. With polite words of agreement now and then Treyton was more than happy to do the talking for me. There were three other people that were staying at the manor for a brief visit so dinner was full of talking and drinking, so much so I could almost pretend that I was enjoying myself. The food was decent, the drink was plentiful despite my constant refusal and I found myself having drunk slightly more then I planned on, but a cursory glance around the table assured me that I was by far the only reasonably sober person. Now’s as good a time as any. Pushing my chair back from the table I walked around the table, taking a new seat next to a heavily intoxicated Treyton.

"Treyton, I have heard rumor that you have recently acquired a new beauty for your collection." A ruby nosed Treyton bobbed his head enthusiastically, while trying to continue drinking his wine.

Hearing our conversation one of the other men brightened. "Well where is she?" His slurred words encouraged Treyton.

"When were you planning on sharing her?" Please let her be alright. I watched as Treyton struggled to stand and then struggled to remain upright. His slaves were at his side in an instant to help support him, with a wave of his hand one was sent scurrying to the door. A few moments later a group of scantily clad women strolled through the door. They wore voluminous full length skirts and low cut, skin tight tops of matching color, all made of completely shear material. All the women were of course staggering beauties but I looked at each of them only for a moment before I knew Kiara was not in the group. "Which of these girls is the new one?" I watched Treyton, ignoring the girls that were all vying for my attention. Where is Kiara?

A frown creased Treytons forehead as he scanned the woman that had entered the room. Flopping back down in his chair he grabbed a handful of his slaves’ shirt, dragging the slaves ear to his mouth. "Where is she?" He hissed through clenched teeth. "I told you to have her ready for tonight." His swollen fist managed an impressive grip on the slaves’ shirt, followed by impressive force, throwing the slave towards the door. "Get her!" Frantic, the slave ran from the room.

I sat staring at the door while the girls flirted and danced with the other men. Several minutes passed before anyone returned to the door way. I slid forward to the edge of my seat at the glimpse of movement in the door. A ruffle of fabric and Kiara stepped into the room. Dressed in a slightly more modest dress that was just shear enough to show every inch of her figure silhouetted against the material. Every curve was on display despite the yards of fabric draped over her. I had to do a double take to make sure this was the same Kiara that had been at my house only yesterday. Her hair was smooth and down around her shoulders, her face had some simple makeup on but the effect was stunning. I had come here with that picture of Kiara as a child in my pocket and my mind. How could I have ever forgotten the difference 14 years could make? How could I have forgotten my original jaw dropping moment when I saw her that first day? She held her chin high and glared into the room with an all too familiar look of defiance and fire that seems to have been rekindled in her. This was not the Kiara that I fell in love with as a child, not at all, but this could be so much better.

With a look of disgust, possibly bordering on contempt, Kiara approached at Treytons summons. She stood stiffly next to him, with her fists clenched tight. When Treyton placed a hand on her hip she tensed visibly, Kiara looked like she was debating the wisdom of finding something to hit him with. "This girl was a gift from a dear old friend." His hand was stroking up and down the side of her thigh as he spoke. "Such a good friend." Licking his lips as his gaze travelled over Kiaras’ figure a mere inch from the tip of his nose.

Looking up at Kiara in the hands of this man was enough to turn my stomach. There was a faraway look in her eyes as she stared straight ahead. "Treyton, what would it take to get you to part with such a beauty?" It was all business now. A quick glance at Kiara to find her still staring in front of her with no look of recognition on her face. Obviously I made a huge impression on her. Looking back at Treyton I found he was still drooling over Kiara. "Treyton?" He looked startled at my interruption but smiled at me regardless.

"I can’t part with such an innocent beauty." I watched him press his nose and mouth against her thigh in a drunken euphoria. "I haven’t even gotten to play with her yet." He took a deep breath in through his nose, in an exaggerated sniff of his prey, and that’s all this is to him, another girl, another game, another chase.

I leaned a little closer to him, hoping to distract him a little from Kiara. "Name your price." If this had been I business meeting that comment would have never come out of my mouth, but sitting here in front of Kiara, close enough to reach out and touch her, all I could do was think of getting her back.

At my words a serious look crossed Treytons pudgy face. What means more to him, money or his perversion? With sickening speed a smile spread across his face. "You want her for the night? She is yours." With a sudden push Kiara landed on my lap with a startled squeal.

I glanced away from the startled doe eyed woman sitting in my lap. "Not for the night." My hand clenched into a knot in the small of Kiaras’ back and I felt her tense for a second. I forced my hand to relax and did my best to try and comfort her with my other hand on hers.

Another frown creased his sweaty brow as he considered my words. "You want her that bad?" His chubby fingers pressed to his chin as he continued to ponder my words. Looking back at Kiara who still sat in my lap where she had fallen. The fear in her eyes softened slightly now compared to earlier. Albeit probably not because she is thrilled to see me or even that me trusts me, more likely she simply sees me as the lesser of two evils. I pulled her more firmly onto my lap and held her in place with a hand around her waist.