Lady Ragenta: No Good Deed Act 2 The Rendezvous

Ragenta

in

No Good Deed.

Act 2

 The Rendezvous

 The Rendezvous

          Ragenta’s legs were still a little bit weak from the night before. The plan had been to have a simple quiet dinner with Atilas in her private dining room alone with no others including slaves around to hear. It had gone far better than she had expected. Their friendship had gone back to their childhood, her father and his family had started planning their future Companionship. The joining of two old families into one mighty slave house. One to corner and dominate the slave trade in Victoria and along the river for pasangs in either direction. She had counted on gaining favor by bringing up old memories from their youth. But then the talk turned to the games they had played so foolishly. How she had allowed him to hunt her in the overgrown mazes of an abandoned villa. She would wear house robe that was little better that a slave tunic in cut and length. He would try to catch and practice his capture knots on her. Even back then things got a little intense between them. To the point that one day she had agreed to wear a very modest slave tunic. She had worn an iron belt under the tunic as she was not opened to men yet. Her wrists were locked behind her back in slave bracelets, and a leash was placed on her neck.

          He had taken her to the Tharlarion races because she had not been allowed to go without a proper escort. So, they had decided to sneak there as master and slave. It had almost worked too. But on the way back they had been jumped by brigand who wanted her. She had not been able to help braceleted as she was. One of the attackers had quickly separated her from Atilas, she was placed in a slave hood and locked in a coffle collar. She was helpless and trapped. In the struggle she was stripped of her slave tunic. She could hear the fighting all around her. Then it stopped and someone came close to her laying naked and chained on her side. She was lifted up, and the hood was unbuckled and pulled over her

 head enough that she could see Atilas but was still gagged.

          “Ragenta, you are safe now,” he had told her. “But your tunic is destroyed, and I can’t leave you here to go get you another. I am going to leave you in the slave hood and carry you back to the maze like you are a slave.” She had screamed into the gag to no avail as it was pulled back over her head and buckled secure once more. She was lifted to her feet, then to her horror she felt the iron belt being removed and dropped to the ground. She whimpered and groaned as he hoisted her up over his shoulder with her head to the rear as a slave would be. Nothing more had happened, but when they reached the maze and she was freed of the slave restraints, They didn’t talk, she dressed and turned home, shaken by had happened to her and his hands on her naked body like she was nothing but a slave. It was when she was being bathed by her slaves that evening that the marks were found on her body and her father notified.

          They had drifted apart after the punishments, separated by the parents. But also, with not knowing how to deal with what had happened. Till last night, last night those old feelings had been stirred up by the memories and fueled by the talk of the visit to the tavern. She had stripped to her house robe without a fight, displayed herself as if a slave. He had stripped her slave naked then told her to serve him Kalana. She had not only served him the wine, but his food as well and for the rest of the meal was as his slave. No chains or collars were used but he commanded, and she obeyed even to her couch where she pleasured him as best as she could. She was locked in his arms when she woke naked next to him this morning. Ragenta could not explain it but she felt alive for the first time in a long time. Maybe since that day at the races. She was not unopened, as she had tested a couple silk slaves because she could and owned them. But she had not enjoyed it like she had last night.

          Atilas had exited the chambers this morning to tend to a few things before they met. She had eaten breakfast and bathed. Then after telling her slaves that she wished not to be disturbed for the rest of the day. Her meals could be left in the dining room. She had then pulled on the house tunic and locked the house collar on her neck. Slipped through the secret passages to the slave exist with her pass and left the house as she had done many times recently.

          Arriving at the laboratory of Dantor without incident and early she made herself busy. The collar was removed from her neck, she changed into a red slave tunic and locked slave bells on her ankle. Then wrapped a robe about her body and waited.

          Atilas arrived a few ehn later. He was dressed in the robes bearing the colors of their caste. The expression on his face showed that he did not care for the reckless deception she was wishing him to be part of.

          “Ragenta, I ask you to forget this foolishness. Wait till I return from this scouting trip to Ar. And will help you find a better way for our agents to purchase the slaves in question if they are there.” Atilas urged.

          “If they are there now, it could be too late, Atilas. Paga slaves are bought and sold every day, from what I understand there is a high turn over rate unless the slave is one that draws more men into the tavern. Exotic pleasure slaves, dancers, or slaves that were once note worthy free women.” She started to plead. But Atilas cut her off.

          “Like former wealthy flame hair female slavers.” He said in a non-joking tone.

          “Yes, a woman like me especially if I were a talented slave.” She glared at him. He was not wrong and that was why she could not go there without him. Her being what was referred to as a fire crotch would make her popular, especially if she was found to be good and giving pleasure. That she was once a renowned and prominent female slaver of Victoria, could make her more desirable. “which is all the more reason why I can’t do this without you.”

          “Ragenta, if I lock a collar on your neck you will be a slave.” He said flatly looking into her eyes.

          “Not necessarily, It is not uncommon for female slavers in the course of training slaves or readying them for sale to, to pose or disguise themselves as a slave.” She held up a finger that she was not finished. “And yes it is usually done only within the walls of a slave house, and I have never heard of it done outside the safety of the house. It is possible with an escort in an extreme circumstance.” She stood and the soft chime of slave bells could be heard as she parted the robe and let it fall to the floor revealing her wearing a red slave tunic of their house as well as one of the house collars locked on her neck already. “I placed the house collar on myself while preparing to train a new group of barbarian slaves. News was received of possible slaves of interest available at the Fowled Anchor. While in the guise of a slave, I accompanied you to tavern to evaluate the slaves. I locked our collar on myself so there is no conflict for you.”

          “You have this all figured out do you, girl.” That he addressed her as girl instead of by name was not lost on her. He could very well still return with her to house as a slave right now. The pretense she was using was very flimsy at best. But she had just given him a way out so that he was not bound by the caste code to enslave her. She had declared that she was wearing the collar and tunic of one their slaves so that she could work with and evaluate slaves without the slaves knowing. She had locked the collar on herself. It was a practice that he didn’t approve, especially when it was her.

          “Not all of this. Not the part where I sleep on my own couch tonight. Right now, I don’t know if you are going to help me or take me to the pens. Or there is still the remote but small chance that you just walk away and do neither. In that case I go as I am on a fake errand for my non-existent master.”

          “You know if you walk into the tavern you will only leave in a coffle or leash of a very real master.”

          “That is a very real possibility,” she answered softly lowering her eyes. “But I owe a debt to Dantor. If it were not for him, I would be a slave now. Either of the raiders or in the city pens with his other slaves that was not stolen waiting for distribution of his estate.” Wetting her lips then continues with a slight smile, “Ironically, I would a slave waiting to be turned over to myself. Once it was ruled I had fallen to the raiders and likely a slave, the estate of Lady Ragenta would be given to Atilas of Victoria. So, I would end up being delivered as a branded slave to you.”

          “Interesting, and that would not be a totally displeasing outcome for me. In light of having gotten a taste of the pleasures you have to offer last night.” Stepping closer with a lecherous grin as he reached over pressing his hand to her crotch in a slavers caress. A gasp escaped her lips as she given her appearance could only stand there and allow him to do it. Not that she really would want to resist him after last night. Then it also occurred to her that she was being pressed and tested. How would she react to being touched like a slave? Would the free woman jump back in faked horror at being touched so rude and intimately? Or would she stand there and take it and respond as a slave would. There was a very real and likely chance that while in the tavern she would be touched as if she was a slave. Then he reached up for the disrobing loop at her shoulder, freeing the knot and allowing the tunic to fall to the floor about her feet, leaving her wearing nothing but a slave collar and bells which were locked on her. “I have to say the prospect of you as my slave is not displeasing at all. By appearing before me so, that could be done now. Are you prepared for that, Ragenta”

           “I am happy that I am found to be pleasing.” Ragenta whimpered as he tormented her.

          ‘There is more to this than you are telling me. I don’t care for that.” Stepping back from her. “I have to believe that for you to risk being enslaved. That it is more serious than a death side promise to an old friend.” Slowly stepping around her.

          “I wish that I could tell you. And promise that when time is right for me I will, Atilas.” She jumped as she was slapped hard on her bare left ass cheek.

          “Master,” He corrected her, “If you insist on parading around like a collared slut. Then you are not to address me by anything but Master until this is done. Understood.” He was offering her one last chance to back out.

          “Yes,” pausing to take a breath. Last night she had called him Master, but she felt that was different. For starters that was a mutual touching and pleasure that had been bottled up for too many years. It had been better that she dreamed it could be. While she had been naked in his arms. He had treated her as if he might be a mate or companion. But now, while she was just as naked, she was also locked in a slave collar and bells. She could not remove them as he blocked her way to where the keys were. And he had a point, if she were heard addressing him by name and not being corrected or punished once they left this place. Then she would certainly draw unwanted closer inspections by others that might note the lack of a brand on her thigh. “Master, I understand.” She nodded.

          “From now till we return here, you are the slave known as Genta. If asked you are my collared free woman prisoner. You will be under slave discipline. Therefore, you will be treated like a slave. Nadu” was all he said and instantly she knelt on the floor resting back on her heels as her thighs parted widely, her shoulders back and her chest out. Walking to the side he came back with two things, a glass vessel which she was sure contained slave wine. It would not do to tell him that she had not taken the releaser since she had drunk slave wine while number 79 at Dantor’s Villa. The other sent a shiver down her spine. It was a kurt, the soft leather bladed slave whip. The handle of the whip was placed against her lips, No command was needed she knew what was expected as she kissed and licked the whip with obedience and submission. When it was removed, the glass vessel was placed to her lips and tipped back. Quickly, Genta drank the bitter concoction derived the from the Sip root with the effects that she would not be able to conceive till she took the releaser. Jade eyes looked up to the man who had been her lifelong friend and for the time being, Master. Had she gone past the point of no return? The guise of a trainer dressed as a slave so to observe slaves would not hold up to her kissing the slave whip as she had. The slave wine was a sensible precaution in either case. He picked up the slave tunic and tossed it against her body. “Cloth yourself, slave”

          “Yes, Master,” quickly pulling the brief revealing garment over her head and adjusted it on her body.

          “Stand and leasha” Instantly she leaped to her feet turning her head and placing her wrists in the small of her back. How many times had she given those very commands to countless slave girls. Now she obeyed and preformed them. A slave bracelet was locked about her left wrists, then it was brought before her body, and her right wrist was locked in the other bracelet. He snapped a leash to the chain connecting the two light steel restraints. He had shown her some minor consideration for normally slaves are braceleted behind their back and the leash on their collars. “Come, slave.”

          With that simple command she was led into the streets of Victory as if she were his slave. She was worried that she was not unhappy to be on his leash.