Lady Ragenta: No Good Deed Act 4 Unexpected Turn of Events

 Ragenta

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No Good Deed

Act 4

Unexpected Turn of Events

Ragenta was lost in thought as she started back towards the holdings that had been the late Dantor’s laboratory. She had honestly not known what to expect when she met with Atilas to escort her looking like one of their house slaves down to the paga tavern. After seeing the inside of the Fowled Anchor there was no doubt in her mind that begging Atilas to escort her there was the right move. As a free woman she would have been enslaved if she entered, as a slave on an errant she was sure that she would not have left either. Especially after she had came to the attention of the owner of the establishment, Sirus. She shivered when she thought of him touching her as she was examined and accessed by him in the middle of the tavern like the slave she appeared to be.

          Atilas had seemed to enjoying having her as his slave while there. She had thought she would be knelt beside him at his table. She had not counted on him ordering her to strip and display herself as she had for him in private the night before. Only this time she was standing in the middle of the Tavern’s main room while those around watched and looked upon her naked except for a slave collar and bells. When the puggy tavern keeper offered 4 silver tarsk for her, her heart had stopped. That was a very good price for a slave new to her collar which she would be. Had anyone but Atilas been holding her leash and acting as her master. Ragenta was sure that she would have been sold to the tavern. But Atilas had given his word not to sell or brand her as long as she didn’t confess herself as a slave while being kept under a slave’s discipline. It was a very fine like that she had to walk.

          She smiles at the thought of how well he had used her like a slave girl several times before sending her home. She had very much enjoyed the time together they had spent together after dinner alone. His touch and feel as she was with him. It was gentle and kind, as lovers that had waited far too long to be together. They had shared her couch as if they were companions. This morning before leaving the house she would have loved to see that play out for them. But then she has presented herself to him in her disguise as one of their slaves. She had agreed and been put under slave discipline to him as if she were such a slave. Ragenta had not minding being walked through the streets of Victory as the leashed slave of the noble Atilas of the caste of slavers, House of Chains. It had even appealed to her vanity on a certain level that she was beautiful enough to be mistaken for such a slave.

          Ragenta smiled and blushed a little at how her more intimate region was so tender and sore from him having using her richly and much taking the pleasures of a slave from her body. Master had chained and slave raped her several times in the alcove. But that wasn’t the right term for it. Yes, she had not been asked if she minded being used as a slave. But she would not have said no, as the term concerning slaves was used, she was juicing nicely from the sexual stimulations that she had received beyond the thrill of being under his control as she was. She was juicing just thinking about this morning and being with him.

          Genta was so lost in her thoughts that she failed to pay attention to her surroundings. It was not until the stinging crack of a switch across the her back that she was brought back to the moment.

 

She wheeled about to say something forgetting her present attire only to turn her back to the freewoman standing there with the switch as it fell on her again. Genta could do nothing but cry out and endure the abuse as her hands were securely locked behind her in slave steel.

          “Stupid filthy slave!” the free woman dressed in the robes of a scribe screamed at Genta striking her again and again. All Genta could do is turn so that her back was presented to the woman and cry out in pain. Her normal bold and aggressive nature suppressed out of self-defense. She wanted to scream at the woman to stop and demand to know why she was doing this. Her disguise was working too well and all this woman saw was a slave girl. “Clumsy Slave!”

          “Please Mistress, please don’t hit me please.” Genta begged as she dropped to her knees before the woman as tears of shame rolled down her cheek. None paid them the slightest attention other then to wonder what this slave had done to anger the woman other that to be a slave girl. Female slaves were bore the brunt of free women’s anger and scorn. “Please, Mistress, forgive me!” she begged.

          “Filthy, slave.” The woman snarled as the blows ceased. Genta knew that she was not to move, to stay on her kneels and be as submissive as she could or the woman might start again. Her body was on fire from the stings of the switch. When she was in her normal clothing she carried such a switch and had used it often on slave girls that crossed her path. That was something that Genta or Ragenta would have to rethink in the future having been on the receiving end of such a switching now.

          “Please forgive a slave, Mistress for offending you.” Genta sobbed as she took deep breaths. Then seeing a sandaled foot thrust between her face and the stones of the street. Inwardly she groaned in humiliation. She knew what was now expected of her. Softly as the tears fell she kissed the foot of the woman who stood over her. As she bent more forward to do this she knew that her ass lifted more and she was showing off more than she wished to those behind her watching. In fact the attack from the woman had cause her tunic to shift and fall off her shoulder stripping her to the waists. With her wrists locked in the small of her back there was nothing she could do to fix the tunic and cover herself once more. “Thank you, Mistress Thank you.” She pleaded in shame as she begged like a slave not to be punished and forgiven for whatever she had done if anything.

          “Maybe we should thank the woman.” One man said behind her.

          “Why?” replied his companion.

          “The may be a she-sleen. But she gave a better look at this slave’s curves.” The first had laughed. “Let’s go seeing this one has me hungry for that new fire crotch at the Fowled Anchor, she is a hellcat in the furs.”

          “You may stop, slut” The woman informed Genta who was still kissing the feet of the woman to placate her. Slut? Why had she, oh, she had not washed and cleaned myself after being well used by Master, she meant Atilas, and yielding to him several times. She remembered that smell on the slaves in the training pens after they had been well used by the staff during their lessons. Genta softly moaned as she thought about what that must have been like, then of Master again, she was feeling the moisture again. She scolded herself to stop and focus. She had no desire to be switched again by this woman. “Next time be more aware of where you are going, slut.”

          “Yes, Mistress, thank you.”

          “Now be off with you, there are surely chores that you are neglecting.” With that the woman turned and was moving off down the street once more.

          Genta struggled to her feet. Looked about then set off swiftly in the direction of the lab.

The way to the lab of Dantor was only a couple more blocks. Genta was taking no more changes and made her way there as best that she could avoiding other as much as she good. The only time that she stopped was when she begged a slave girl who had just finished scrubbing the entrance to her Mistress shop and about to go back in. A first the skinny slave was reluctant to help her. But when Genta pleaded that her tunic had come loose under the blows of a passing Mistress switch the girl grew more sympathetic having felt the bite of a free woman’s switch for little or no reason herself. The girl fixed Genta’s tunic so that she was no longer stripped to the waists.

          Genta wonder how she could show her thanks. At first she thought of buying the girl and making her one of her hand slaves. But that would not work for the obvious reason that the girl had seen her as a slave and if she saw her as the Mistress her secret would be out. The best that she could do would be to look in from time to time visiting the shop when not dressed as a slave. She was starting to think that this disguise was bad for her as a slaver. She was seeing the life on the other side of the collar and not as cold and merciless as she once was when it came to buy, selling, training, and acquiring of female

 slaves.

          Seeing the sign over the front door of what used to be Dantor’s laboratory and office in the city, she let out a sigh of relief. She needed to get out of this slave collar and back into her slaver robes soon. Today was starting to scare her as she feared that Master had started something in her belly that there was only one cure for. Atilas! Atilas! She had to stop thinking of him as her master. She was not a slave, she was not a slave, she was the Lady Ragenta of the caste of slavers! It was hard for her to remember that at the moment with her hands braceleted behind her back and wearing only a slave tunic and collar. And the slave bells that jingled with her every step or movement.

          She was almost to the door with it struck her like the blow from that woman’s switch. They had pulled the string through and tied the signature knot before leaving for the tavern earlier. Genta had not though about it because when they left her wrists were braceleted before her body. It would be harder then if they weren’t chained, but she could easily undo the knots. But with her hands fastened behind her it would be next to impossible. Attempting to back up to the door and doing it blind or kneeling facing the door would draw unwanted attention to herself from others, especially roving patrols of the city guard. Then the second problem struck her. There were no keys to the collar or the bracelets in the dwelling. She has surrendered them to Master on command before leaving.

          Genta’s mind was racing. Finally, she concluded that there was only one thing to do. She would have to move on and return to the slave house like this instead of changing clothes here in the laboratory. She had left in guise of a slave, she should be able to return no problem. She would just have to be checked back into the house. The notation on her card has said she was assigned to the Lady Ragenta and would at times be housed outside the house at the laboratory or in her Mistress chambers when in the house. No problem she would just have to remain a slave a little longer that she has planned on. After all that she had gone through today, a few more blocks to the house was nothing.

 

          Genta had been passed through the gate of the high walls of the courtyard of the slave house. With all the house slave moving about the courtyard on work details or being exercised under supervision of training slaves or house guards she was scarcely noticed, because as beautiful and well curved as she was, there were a dozen or more that were her equal. She moved with small quick steps as she had instructed countless slaves over her career as a slaver. She was mindful of where she was going but made sure that she avoided direct eye contact with any of the staff or slave trainers she passed. She had felt the switch on her body today, she had no desire to be on the suffering end of a slave goad.

          When she finally reached the entry way to the house, she swiftly knelt behind the line of slaves that were waiting to be checked in. A board looking scribe in wrinkled robes moved down the line as he checked off each slave by her assigned house number on her collar. He would tell the slave to lift her chin so he could read her collar number off then usually tell her to proceed where she was going or to report somewhere. Genta swallowed hard as she realized that she had almost fired this man for being drunk while working. He would not have the slightest clue who she was. But it was closer than she wished to be to being under discipline to one she had disciplined herself. Then it was her turn.

          “Collar,” was all he said. Instantly she lifted her chin and turned her head slightly so that he could read her collar. “74586, 74586, oh here you are. Go kneel by the wall till you are collected.”

          “But, Master,” she started, “I am to return to Mistress chambers and prepare them for her.”

          “What is your slave number.” He demanded.

          “74586, Master” she answered softly. It would not do for her to be this close and find herself under the slave whip for lack of respect.

          “Yes, 74586 is go to the wall until she is collected.” He looked down at her none too pleased with having to repeat himself.

          “I got her Talis,” Another male voice said behind her. Then she felt strong hands on her arms as she was pulled to her feet and walked over to the wall where she was placed on her knees once more. A short length of chain was clipped on her collar tethering her to the slave ring on the wall behind her. There were five other slaves at the wall with her. She wondered what had happened that she was here.

          Another scribe came to them with two house slaves. One of the slaves moved from chained girl to chained girl and removed her slave tunic. Genta wanted to protest because the slave tunic she had was longer than most cut to hide her lack of a brand. If it was discovered, there would be questions on how she got there without a brand. But then she would be sent to the iron worker and branded to correct the matter.

          The two house slaves assisting the scribe moved down the line. Each chained slaves would be told to open their mouths when the first slave was before her. When it was her turn, a ball of slave gruel was thrust in her mouth.

          “Eat that all up slaves,” the scribe had said, “It a new formula we just got in called Nutri-girl, eat up like good girls.” The female scribe laughed. Genta chewed up the ball of bland tasteless slave food. Spectus as been the one to bring this foul stuff in to feed the slaves, Said he got a good deal on it but would not say where. Next slaves moved down the line pouring water into their mouths. Now they had been fed and watered. The slaves then moved back to the end of the kneeling slaves. Genta could not see what they were doing without turning her head.

          “Mistress, may I speak?” she asked the woman.

          “Make it quick, slave.” the annoyed scribe answered.

          “Mistress, I was to go directly to Mistress Ragenta’s chamber upon my return. She will not be pleased if I do not have her bath ready for her.” She gambled that her story would not be checked.

          “Oh, I am sure that you were, girl. But fret not, I can assure you that her next slave will pick up where you left off, 74568.” The scribe laughed.

          “But Mistress, I am 7458..” Genta never got to finish as the wadding from a slave hood was thrust in her mouth an ihn before the hood was drawn up over her head and buckled in place. She tried to scream out that they had the wrong slave but was effectively muzzled. She heard the kicks of the coffle chain being attached to her collar and the collars of the slaves to her left and right. Her and the others were urged to their feet by the switches of the trainers as the first girl in line was herded into the courtyard with the others forced to follow behind her.

          “Did that slave identify herself as slave 74586 and not as 74568?” Genta heard the female scribe ask.

          “Who cares, this was a rush sale lot. What does it matter if she is sold tomorrow or next week. We need to make room for the slaves that are being shipped in.” replied the man at the door. Genta’s heart sank as she was being taken to the auction house to be sold. Her lack of brand would be discovered, and she would be marked as a slave and sold with the rest. Never seeing Atilas again or saving her Sena and her mother. There was a very real chance that Sirus could see her and buy her off the block for his tavern.

Genta had once more tried to inform the handlers at the auction house that there had been a mistake once the slave hoods and neck coffles had been removed. That had earned her the back of a handler’s hand across her mouth. Her eyes flared once more but were lowered in submission when he produced a slave goad and turned it on. She was then gagged by the master’s will as she was forbidden to speak unless told she could. Genda was taken to the pens where she was told to bathe and groom herself before being chained in a examination cell for the buyers to look at.

 Chained in the exhibition cell, the only way that she knew how much time had passed was by listening to sounding of the bars. She had several potential buyers stop and examine her. Her lack of a brand was noted each time. And true to her fears, Sirus was one of the potential buyers. He had informed his associates to mark her down to be bid on and purchased if at all possible when she ascended the auction block.

          How had this all gone so terribly wrong that she would sold as if she were just another slave in her own auction house tomorrow evening. It was always a danger for a woman in this caste. And if she had been sent to the block as part of a debt repayment or as the result of a hostile takeover or betrayal. She would still have been marketed as the former Lady Ragenta of Ar and not merely next is slave 74586 what am I bid. She would still be sold as a slave either way, but the first would be going out in style and the other as just be the result of poor records keeping and bad timing.

          It was now only a matter of time before she was taken from the cell to have her thigh marked. There was nothing that she could do to stop it. Not would listen that she was not the slave to be sold, they would definitely not listen if she claimed that she was not a slave but the Lady Ragenta. She was a naked and chained slave number 74586 as far as they were concerned. The only thing that claiming who she really was would accomplish would be for her to be whipped as a lying slave. Only Atilas could get her out of this, and even then there would be questions asked. Then again, he might just have her marked and documented as a slave, either keeping her for himself or selling her at a guaranteed profit.

          She looked up at the sound of footsteps approaching her cell. Taking a deep breath, she quickly moves to kneel in the furs with her thighs widely opened as she is expected to. Her hands rested atop her thighs and her eyes were lowered. How many times had she put slaves in this very position. Now she was the slave that knelt before the free men and women. Or she soon would be.

          A bowl of slave porridges and another of water was slide under the bars of her cell. Ragenta wrinkled her nose at it. It was bland and tasteless usually. Before she had been fed prior to being brought to the auction house, Ragenta had only had it as part of Dantor’s plan at the villa and one other time on a dare. She really had no desire to eat the stuff, but she was hungry and if she didn’t then either they would come in and stand over her while she did or water it down and use a feeding tube on her.

          “What not what you ordered?” Came a snarky woman’s voice from behind her. “Secure the door and I will call when I am ready.” A shiver of fear ran down Ragenta’s back as she dared not to look up but she recognized that voice. I was the voice of the free woman that had taken the switch to her in the streets. The cloth of the slave tunic had been no shielding against the switch, but now she was naked chained and locked in a cell with the free woman. It was little to no comfort that the auction house staff would not let the woman cause any serious damage to her as it would lower her sale value. In one day she had gone from merchant to merchandise. “I am crushed,” the woman said, “After I had that batch made up just for you. Shall I have the handler bring the slave whip to encourage you, slut.”

          “No, Mistress, please don’t call for the whip.” Reaching out to pick up the bowl of slave porridge to eat only to have the switch come down hard on the back of her hands. She yelped and dropped the bowl spilling some on the stone floor of the cell. Then the tip of the switch was under her chin lifting her eyes and face to look at the Mistress with her. The woman still in the robes of a scribe wore only a thin house veil, she looked very familiar to Ragenta.

          “Just as I thought,” the woman laughed. “I thought that I recognized you in the streets yesterday afternoon. The House of Chains collar threw me off. Last time that I saw you, slave, you were on the leash of the Physician Dantor being led away from the house.” That caught Ragenta’s attention that this was not just some wondering free woman that had taken a disliking to a slave. No this woman had to be there at the assessment and knew Dantor. “74586, That buffoon, Talis, must have been drunk still or hungover again. The sale order I wrote out was for 74568.

          “When I returned to the house this morning and learned that there was a problem with one of the slaves being sent to the auction house I started to look into it. When I learned that it was a flame haired slut with no brand. Then I had to find out for myself. And look who I have found but you, Lady Andraus. If that is really or was really your name. Because according to the ledgers of the House of Chains, slave 74586 is called Enta and assigned a hand slave to Lady Ragenta. It has been long rumored that Lady Ragenta was a flame crotched bitch. Interesting isn’t it. Slave”

          “Yes, Mistress,” was all Ragenta could say. Her voice failing her. What was her name, she was the scribe in assessment? She was working with the traitor Norac. Was she a traitor and spy too? If she was then there was no hope, not as long as she was chained in a cell as a naked slave girl.

          “On your belly, slave.” Lady Kiana grabbed her by the hair and pulled roughly forward to her belly on the cell floor. “Now on your belly and eat your porridge like the slave beast you now are.” Ragenta had managed to break her fall slightly but the weight of bare body against the hard stone still hurt. Then she inched forward as she was told and slowly stared to lick at the food in the bowl as if she were an animal. Which it looked like she was going to be. Something was not right, There was a lot not right at the moment. But the food, there was more in the bowl then what the daily ration of a slave should be given.

          “Do you like your food, slave?” Kiana cooed with a laugh. “It is something new that Spectus brought back from his last trip. We haven’t been using it as there is a very limited supply of it. He said it was called Nutri-girl. A special formular of slave feed. It is supposed to enhance slaves’ curves and keep her trim, but this batch also helps in training as it makes her more,” she paused, “accepting of commands and conditioning. So, eat up little slave girl.”

          Ragenta was humiliated as she lay naked and chained on her belly lapping up the food as she had been told. She was sick to her stomach as there was nothing more that she could do for herself. She had remember hearing the term Nutri-girl when she was being prepared for transfer to the auction house. Yes, the wad of packed slave gruel was said to have this Nutri-girl in it. And while she knew that she had no choice other that obey all commands at the time. She had felt like she needed to be a good girl for the masters when they were handling her once she had reached the house. She was being drugged!

          “Good slave, now lick it up off the floor. Mustn’t waist it.” Ragenta groaned at that comment to her but licked it up off the stone floor as she was told. “Up! Display!” Kiana commanded her and she obeyed. Ragenta leaped to her feet with the rattle of her chain, standing straight with her breasts thrust out as she lifted her arms to place her fingers interlocked behind her head, her hips were canted with one knee slightly lifted. She looked straight ahead as Kiana slowly circled her. “Yes, you will bring a fine price. Oh, yes I know that you are not the slave scheduled for sale. And no I am not going to stop it. You have cost me too much, slave. I do not care if you are Andraus or even if you are Ragenta herself. And I think you are. Norac had some side deal going on to take Ragenta. I was not part of it. But Dantor left with the ‘Lady Andraus’ in tow like she was a slave. Ragenta was found on the villa by guardsmen looking like she was a slave. I don’t care of you are or were Ragenta, Andruas, or someone else. I cared for Norac. He wasn’t much of a man but he was kind to me. And so was Dantor. He was a kind mentor to me. And now they are both dead and you were somehow connected.” Ragenta’s heart fell. Not for Norac, he was a tarsk as far as she was concerned, but for Dantor. She was responsible for so much pain and death. Maybe she should be punished and made a slave for the rest of her life. “I really don’t care who you are or were. But I have ordered your branding, and you will be sold tomorrow.”

          Kiana then struck the helpless slave girl several times with the switch then left her curled up begging for the beating to stop. Ragenta was still sobbing in humiliation and shame as she heard the cell door open and the Mistress depart.

 

 

 

          Ahn had passed the best that she could tell by the sounding of the bars in the auction house. Ragenta has been removed from her cell and coffled with two other slaves. They had been gagged by master’s will upon being added to the chain of slaves. Ragenta had walked these corridors many time, but in like she was now. Before she had pain the surroundings little mind. The walls were lined with slaves kneeling and chained to iron rings mounted in the walls. Their lines only broken by a recessed hall leading to a holding pen. Every shackle and every pen was filled with slaves both male and female segregated by lots and sex.  Most paid them no mind as they were led past. But few just watched, others would call out taunts or insults. What chilled her the most was the look she got from a few of the chained and cages kajirus. They didn’t call out or make comments about or to her. No, they just watched her with hungry eyes, their plans for her evident by their swollen member that stood out. How many times had she taunted and laughed at kajirus as they could look and not touch a free woman. They were not to touch a kajira either, but it happened from time to time. And as a reward for them or a punishment for her, once she was branded and sold she might be tossed to one of them at the whim of her owner. Then something else occurred to her, what if the Lady Kiana bought her? The woman truly seemed to hate her and would make her slavery as the Lady’s slave a living hell for her.

          As the last in line, Ragenta was removed from the common chain and knelt with the other slaves by the wall, a chain tethered her by the neck to a ring in the wall. Not that she could go far naked and back braceleted. She watched as each of the girls with her had been removed from the wall and strapped down to the slave to the branding rack. The restrained slave would scream out as the white hot iron would kiss her thigh marking her. A physician would apply salve to the brand and the slave removed and back braceleted once more. Lady Kiana wanted Ragenta to watch each of the girls before her being branded to know what was going to happen to her.

          Finally it was Ragenta’s turn, She was secured to the branding rack as Lady Kiana watched. Once she was immobile and restrained. The assistant coffled the other slaves and took them back to their chains and cages.

          “You look scared, slave.” She laughed at Ragenta. “Any last confessions or pleas? Not that they will save you from the iron now.” Then nodding to the iron master, she smiled coldly then paused as he stepped out and she leaned in closer. “So who were you? Besides, the fake Lady Andraus. You were Ragenta the slave mistress weren’t you!”

          Before Ragenta had the opportunity to respond a large hand with a cloth appeared over the mouth and nose of the Lady Kiana. She struggled and tried to break free but quickly fell limp.

          “Capture scent is wonderful stuff.” Atilas laughed holding the unconscious scribe in one arm. Then lowered the woman to the stone floor.

          “Thank You, Master, I didn’t think she was going to shut up.” Ragenta said dryly.

          “I gave you one simple instruction to return to the house and look how much trouble you got in.” He shook his head as he went about the task of stripping the scribe of her clothing.

          “It got complicated, Master.” She sighed. “I don’t think I can get out of this mess. And I’m not sure that I should. Atilas.”

          “Hush, slave girl. I am thinking but heard enough to know that she has pieced together who you are. No, it doesn’t bode well for you.” Looking at the naked woman on the floor. “She will have to disappear one way or the other.”

          “And myself?” she looked to him.

          “By the Priest Kings, I should mark you hide and let you live the life you seemed to flirt with so much. But if I did that then I fear the House will fold as there will be no working with Spectus. Two on one is the only thing that is keeping him in check as it is now.”

          “I am so very sorry, Atilas for all the trouble that I have caused.”

          “If it were anyone but you, I would have marked and sold you long before now. But we go back too far, and perhaps when this business with the new house in Ar is done we might reconsider something more that business partners.”

          “Master,” she laughed, “I am hardly in a position to argue anything with you at the moment. You can do with me as you wish.”

          “Ragenta,” he got very serious, “I will not lie, I enjoyed having you as my slave while at the tavern. But that being said, there is a power struggle going on in our house. The only thing that is keeping Spectus in check is the two of us. He is pushing for more and more control. However, my sources say that he has suffered a setback on something that has weakened his position. Even with his dealings in Brundisium, he is over extended and will take several months to be able to challenge for control of this house. With the purchase of the house in Ar, the wheels will be motion so that it will be up and running sooner that that. I have already arranged for you to supervise movement of staff and slaves to the new house when I am ready.” As he was telling her this, Atilas had already started removing the straps and shackles from her and helping her off the branding table.  “I won’t lie, branding and keeping you is very tempting. But right now, you are more valuable to me as a partner than a slave.”

          “What about her,” Ragenta pointed to the drugged woman on the floor.

          “We have to dispose of her in a way so that anyone she tried to tell will not care or wish to act on it. There is no profit in it, but it might be best to have her fed to sleen.” Atilas said coldly.

          “I may know of something so that will not be necessary. At least not killing her anyway.” Ragenta smiled. Bending to pick up the fallen ledger the scribe had been holding. She used the discarded writing stick to write some orders then handed the ledger to Atilas. Who read them and laughed.

          “Ragenta, I will tell this now. Do not do this again. I will not release you if I ever find you wearing a collar again. That means no more even for training of slaves. Ever, am I clear.”

          “Perfectly clear, Atilas.” She answered. With that he removed her collar and handed her a bag with her own clothing in it. He had brought it with him from the laboratory. While Ragenta dressed, Kiana was secured to the table and gagged. The robes of the scribe placed in the bag with the collar for slave 74586. A collar was taken from a shelf, and a new slave was assigned number 36725 as she slept. The new slave soon woke to find Atilas and Ragenta standing over her as the returned iron worker marked her as a slave. Once she was marked, the iron worker dismissed, the cloth with capture scent was once more placed over her mouth and nose. 36725 was then placed in a slave hood and removed from the table to be transferred to a isolation cell.

         

          The next morning, Atilas bid Ragenta goodbye as he departed for Ar to finalize the purchase of the slave house there. After his tarn took flight. Ragenta returned to the auction house, proceeding down to the isolation cell that held slave 36725. Once the door was closed behind her she smiled at the kneeling slave.

          “Things didn’t turn out as you thought did they.” Ragenta smiled.

          “No, Mistress they didn’t” the girl answered bitterly. “But this isn’t over.”

          “Oh, but it is. You may think that you will be able to use your information about me to bring me down.” Ragenta looked at the hate in the slave’s eyes. “I could have you whipped but I won’t.  At least not yet. There is still time for that.” She watched the slave grow uneasy at the thought of what could be done to her. It was not pleasant being on this side of things.

          “Some masters like to have their slaves tell them of their past. I will have to tell the truth. And the truth will come back to haunt you, Mistress.”

          “Perhaps it will, slave.” Ragenta agreed in surprise to the slave. “But have you ever heard of the Pani? Interesting people from what I am told. They are said to live somewhere beyond World’s End. They are buying goods by the warehouse full all along the coast. They have purchased hundreds of slave girls as well. You have been sold to them.” That shook the girl as it was said that only death waited beyond World’s End.

          “I can still tell someone before I reach where they are taking me.” The girl challenged.

          “You could,” she paused and smiled wickedly. “If you were able. As I said you have already been sold to their agent. Your food was laced with tassa powder. You may be feeling the effects already. Your new owners have a tight schedule to meet it seems so you will be transported by tarn basket to wherever they are taking you. Rest well Kiana and serve your new owners well, I doubt we will meet again.” Ragenta smiled as the girl slowly slumped to the floor of the cell. “Now to go make arrangements to buy another slave.”

 

          The cell door open and she stepped out so that the handlers could prepare the girl for transport.

         

 

I hope that you have enjoyed Act 4 of No Good Deed, I do ask that you take into consideration that while My AI artwork is getting better. It is still not an exact representation of what I am painting with My words. So slaves that in text are naked might have some form of clothing on them as it was not possible to get results without clothing or to get a decent result when I attempted to remove the clothing in the editing. 

Thank you