Lady Ragenta: Through Different Eyes

Artwork by TroyDM

 

Lady Ragenta

In

Through Different Eyes

 

          Ragenta was furious. She was one of, if not the most, renowned slavers in Victoria. With her partners Atilas and Spectus, she was part of the finest slave house in Victoria. Their House of Chains was doing so well that Atilas had traveled to Ar to scout locations to either take over an existing slave house or build a new one. He had taken one of their best training slaves with him for his personal enjoyment and insight on the locations. That made perfect sense. Spectus on the other hand had decided to travel to Brundisium as the markets there had been flooded with slaves after Cos had left Ar. Many of the slaves had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time and had been taken as spoils.

Interestingly, many of the new slaves had been former free women of Ar who had supported the occupation of Ar by Cos. They had taken to the roads, looking for any way to escape execution. Some had begged the collar as the price of being taken from the city. Others had fallen slave to other refugees and bandits along the roads. The results were that the markets would be flooded. It was Spectus’ decision to take three more of their best training slaves with his party to service their needs, and of course work with any slaves that they were going to bring back. That put Ragenta down to four training slaves, which would normally not be a problem. Only at this time they had just received a shipment of barbarian slaves. Barbarians could be very profitable as they were natural slaves. Ragenta was not clear on exactly where they came from, but it was far away and the slaves they got from there had to be taught everything, including how to speak the language.

If Spectus was bringing back more slaves from his venture, then they were going to need the cage space, and these barbarians who had only started training needed to have their training accelerated for possible earlier sales that would have normally been done. Ragenta had to double the size of a couple of the training classes with the trainers whom she knew could handle the increased load. But she still had one class to cover and was out of trainers, so she would have to teach them herself. Again, something that she had done before, but she tried to spend as little time as she could down in the pens because the presence of a Free Woman caused a major disruption to the normal activity in the pens and training rooms; the Mistress of the House down in those places caused pure chaos.

To keep things running as smoothly as possible she had come up with a plan. It required a practice that she did not care for, that was employed by others Free Women of her caste. It was bold and risky for a woman to carry out, especially outside of a controlled setting. Ragenta would dress in plain robes of concealment instead of the much finer ones that showed the blue and yellow silk of the caste of Slavers. As Free Women are not usually allowed in the pens and training areas, she would have to have one of her guardsmen escort her down to the training cell. Once there she would enter the training cell and lock the door behind her till she was ready for the slaves to enter after their morning feeding.

Removing several items from the bag she had brought with her. Ragenta removed her slippers, placing them in the bag till the time to return. One at a time the many layers of her robes, light tunics, and stockings were removed and placed in the bag till she was what is referred to as block naked. The room had several full-length standing mirrors that would be used by the slaves today. She looked upon her reflection in one of the mirrors.

Ragenta regarded herself with the same eye that she would appraise the value of a slave. She was, she thought, very beautiful, and had a great body to go with her face. The reddish tint of her hair would also increase her value. Shaking her head and bringing herself back to reality, she grabbed the plain cloth tunic of one of the house slaves and pulled it over her head then smoothed it down over her body. It barely concealed her but she had to wear the same as the trainers or it might be noticed. Taking a sting of slave bells she wrapped them twice about her left ankle before locking them in place. With a length of binding fiber she made a belt which further displayed her beauty and curves. She attached a slave goad to dangle from one side and another coil of binding fiber was tucked into the belt on the other side. Taking a deep breath, she picked up the final item that had been in the bag, a slave collar that had the simple legend inscribed “This slave is property of the House of Chains.”  It also had a small ribbon tied to it showing that she was a trainer. Closing her eyes, she slipped the cold steel collar about her neck and closed it. The falling of the tumblers as the lock closed were deafening.  Looking back to her reflection she saw not herself but a house slave looking back at her. A chill ran down her spine. How did the others who did this do it so matter of factly?

A pounding at the door shook her out of it. Regaining her composure once more, Ragenta went to the door and unlocked it. She stepped behind the door so that escorting guards did not get a good look at her like this. Once the slaves were in the cell she closed the door once more.

“I am…” She paused for an instant as she could not use her name. “I am… Enta,” she finished. “I will be taking over your training for a few days until Ula returns. Do. Not. Test. Me, slaves.” All of the slaves, four in total, turned their eyes to her instantly. “Strip! And kneel facing the mirror as the slaves you are!” she snarled at them.

“Yes, Mistress,” they cried out in unison as house tunics were removed, and each rushed to kneel before the mirror in the position of nadu; that of a pleasure slave before men.

Ragenta walked about each checking their posture and position, ensuring that they were doing it correctly. She was pleased she only had to nudge one of the girls with her foot to widen her thighs.

“Now, slaves. Answer the questions as they are asked while looking at the slave in the mirror. What are you?” she demanded of them.

“I am a slave girl.” They responded in unison.

“What is a slave girl?” came next.

“A girl that is owned.” They answered.

“Why do you wear a brand?” she said watching them closely.

“To show that I am owned,” they answered.

“Why do you wear a collar?” came next.

“So that men may know who owns me.” They responded.

“What does a slave girl want more that anything?” watching each of them.

“To please men.”

As they answered, Ragenta detected a stirring in a couple of them as that truth was sinking in.

“What are you,” she said. As she circled them Ragenta was always careful to keep her left thigh away from their view. The tunic she was wearing was just long enough that it would cover the most common brand sites, but if she lifted her arms above her head, the hem of the tunic would show her left thigh was brandless.

“I am a slave girl,” they all replied a little softer.

“What do you want more than anything?”

“To please men.” They answered with a soft tone on excitement.

 

The next two ahn involved the slaves repeating ‘I am a slave girl’ over and over as they looked at the slave in the mirror. Front time to time Ragenta would step back and let them keep reciting the chant. The psychological effect of saying it over and over while seeing themselves as a slave in the mirror could have been achieved in several ways, but this was one way that it could be done in a large group instead of individually. Finally, after the slaves had started on their third ahn of repeating these questions and answers, Ragenta had to step away for an ehn.

Walking over to the door of the cell, deciding to see if any messages had been left for her in the box outside the door while she had been conducting the training session. Instructions had been given that, while Ragenta was working with the slaves, she did not wish to be disturbed. Unless it was a dire emergency, they were to just leave notes for her in the box by the door. She would check the message when time allowed and leave a response. Ragenta was out the door before she remembered what she was wearing. Oh well, she thought she’d be back behind the door in less than an ehn.

“You slave,” came a gruff male voice from behind her as a hand took by the arm and spinning her around in the direction that the voice came from. “What do you think you are doing snooping around in that box?”

Ragenta was taken by surprise as she looked up to see the face of Franco, one of the Slave Masters for the House who oversaw the running of the pits. Franco was an imposing man that had a reputation for being very good at handling slaves. His tactics and methods, thought Ragenta, while not being overly sympathetic to the suffering of slaves, had bordered on cruel and sadistic. Twice she had had to reprimand him for taking things too far, the slave in question having been devalued or disfigured to the point that a slave that had been slotted for a prime selling lot in an auction had been pulled and sold for a fraction of her original value in a minor market.

“Did you not hear what I said, slave. Or are you just stupid?” he demanded again.

“I was sent to retrieve the messages for…” she never got the chance to finish as a large hand cuffed her across the mouth with enough force that it spun her while knocking her to the stone floor. She felt the bite of the five leather blades of his slave whip on her now bare ass as the hem of her tunic road up exposing her bare flesh to him. It was the first time that she had ever been under the slave whip; she screamed out.

“I do not know who made a trainer of a slave that does not know enough to kneel before a man and address him as Master,” he snarled. He spat on her.

Ragenta, with tears running down her face and rage in her eyes, started to rise to confront him. It was only when she looked up in his hard face and eyes while at the same time hearing the chimes of the slave bells on her ankle as she moved that she froze for a heartbeat. He had not struck Lady Ragenta. No, he had struck a slave, or one that he saw as a slave. She was after all wearing the collar, tunic, and bells of a house slave. Checking her movement so that instead of leaping at the man, she instead went swiftly to her knee assuming the posture of a pleasure slave with her thighs opened as wide as she could to him. Her hands resting palms up on her thighs as she lowered her eyes and in a very low and even voice, “Please forgive this slave, Master. The Mistress sent her to retrieve her messages.”

“I know all the training slaves. I don’t remember seeing or hearing of a new one.” His gaze upon her as he appraised her closely.

That sent a chill down Ragenta’s spine. None knew of her plans and methods in the instruction of the newest slaves in the class. While it was not unheard of for female slavers to wear the disguise of a slave while training others, there usually was someone there always watching them to control the environment. She had foolishly not seen the need for those safety protocols. Here partners were gone, and she was left to get these slaves trained and run the house by herself with what trainers they had left her with. Saying who she was would not go well for her given that she was kneeling in a slave collar now. First off, she would not be believed. She would be seen as a lying slave, dragged to a whipping ring or post where they would strip her by hand or give her the slave whip. There was no telling how far into the beating it would before it was noticed that her body lacked any slave marks.

“I am new, Master. Mistress just acquired this slave from another house as part of a wager. I am Mistress’ personal slave, and she put me to work soon as I was delivered to the house. She has named me Enta.” Ragenta was very nervous as she answered Franco. She prayed that he would not question what she had just said. There was a small glimmer of truth to what she had told him. The slave collar locked on her neck was on the ledger assigned for Lady Ragenta personal slave. She had been looking for one that she liked the looks of and had a collar ready. So by locking it on herself, that part was true as to how she had been sent down to train the barbarian slaves.

But no papers existed and so she risked been taken to be fully documented, and when stripped for this formality, the lack of any brand would be noted and she would next be sent to marked. Now Ragenta was cursing how smooth her house operated. It was highly possible that Lady Ragenta could vanish, and a search would be conducted while she was a chained slave in her own house the whole time.

“I would have words with your Mistress then,” Franco said as all Ragenta could think of was urt-dung! If he walks into the training cell she would be done for.

“Mistress is not in there Master,” she quickly responded, which was the truth. Now she had to come up with a fast and good explanation. “Master, the barbarian slaves have given Mistress a horrible headache. She told me to finish the day with the class then return to her chambers with the tools she is letting this slave use.”

“Lady Ragenta is roaming the pens in plain robes without her escort?”

He looked concerned. The purpose for the escort being that no Free Woman was allowed past the business and residential areas of the house without an escort for security reasons. There was always that remote chance a slave would overpower a lone Free Woman and steal her robes to escape.

“Mistress,” Ragenta stated ,picking her words very carefully, “said that it was near time to return the slaves to their cells and feeding areas and that she did not wish to wait or pull a guard from there post.”

Alright, that is good so far she thought.

“I pleaded with Mistress not to take such a risk.” (A clear lie), “But she insisted that the secure passages would be empty and there was no risk this time of day.” There was a measure of truth to that, but now it was time to see if the Master believed her.

“Very well, slave. Inform your Mistress that I ask a moment of her time when she is not busy. Now harta!”

Ragenta leaped to her feet at the command to hurry, the bells on her ankle chiming with her movement. Before she had cleared the doorway to close the door, Franco slapped her firmly on her ass causing her to gasp in surprise being touched so. Again, she wanted to round on him, but he had only treated her like he would any other slave. Letting out another sigh, this one of relief, as the door was once more closed behind her.

Ragenta laid back against the door and breathed heavily as her heart pounded in her chest. Her knees were weak with fear; she had just knelt as if she were a slave before one of the Slave Master of the House of Chains! He had used his slave whip on her and treated as if she was just a slave. Yes, she was kneeling at his feet, belled and wearing a house collar and slave tunic, but how did he not see that she was a Free Woman?

Then the sound of bars being struck signaled the beginning of the 15^th ahn.

 

“Slaves, take your tunics and report to the common food troughs before returning to your cells.” Ragenta clapped her hands together rapidly as she watched the slaves rushing about to gather their tunics and dash out the door.

Once the last one was out, Regenta felt her knees were still a little wobbly from her ordeal. Ragenta leaned against the door. She was Mistress of this house, yet one of the best Slave Masters thought she had just been another slave. Did she look that much like one?

Unknotting the cord about her waist, she placed it and the slave goad on the table with the bag. Ragenta walked over to look at her reflection in the mirror. There appeared to be a very beautiful slave looking back at her. Reaching to pull at the disrobing loop at her shoulder, the tunic parted and fell about her feet in a pool of fabric. Ragenta appraised the naked slave in the mirror. The girl had an excellent body and was a beauty, given her knowledge that she was trained in many ways of a slave and literate as well. The slave in the mirror would be worth at least 5 silver tarn discs or more in a normal market. Then to her horror, the slave was now kneeling facing the mirror with her thighs widely parted like a pleasure slave. She looked like any of the naked barbarians as they had chanted over and over the slave mantra that she had taught them.

"He is Master, and I am slave.
He is owner, and I am owned.
He commands, and I obey.
He is to be pleased, and I am to please
Why is this?
Because he is Master and I am slave."

          Ragenta heard herself starting to say this mantra as well. Shuddering, she stopped herself and leaped to her feet. Could Franco not tell that she was not a slave. Or as a Slaver did he see every woman as a potential slave?

          Removing the bells from her ankles, she pulled on her stockings and slippers. Not bothering to dress all the way, she just put the heavy outer robes over her naked body, pulling up the hood and adjusting the veils to hide her face. She snatched up the bag she had brought with her. It was not until Ragenta was withing the private corridor that it occurred to her that she had not taken off the slave collar. But now was not the time to attempt to remove it, as she was passing house workers and slaves moving through the corridor. The key was in the bag and did she now have a master key in her chamber?

As she moved through the corridor, without the multi layers of gowns usually worn between her bare skin and the coarse, yet tightly woven fabric of the outermost robe, she caught herself biting her low lip as the rougher fabric tormented her unprotected nipples. Perhaps this was not such a such a good idea, and she should have dressed more fully prior to leaving the training cell. But it was once again too late for that. At least the heavy material of the robe would not give a hint to any seeing her of how it was affecting her under it.

          It was not far to the exit that led to her chambers. Only now, Ragenta found herself closely watching the slaves as they moved past her. How freely they moved about, some in light tunics, others in silks that left nothing to the imagination, and a few with nothing but their collars. She noticed how they shied away from her. How the men would examine them as they passed. But for the most part, other than a couple that had been detained and knelt before one of the free members of the house for one reason or another, the slaves moved about the house unnoticed. They came and went doing their task and chores, left alone to engage in whatever task they had assigned to complete. Franco had assumed that she had been such a slave. Did he see something in her that she would never dare to admit. Or was it just that a female locked in a slave collar and dressed in slave garments could only ever be seen as a slave?

The barbarians in the class had not questioned that she was their assigned training slave. This might bear more looking into, she thought. It might be possible for her to move about unseen as she watched the business of the house, or even in the streets of Victoria for that matter. Ragenta smiled to herself under her veils as she formed her plan while returning to her chambers.