Legends of Belariath
Stormbringer and Ayla
The Story of Stormbringer and Ayla 2
The Next Day
When I awoke the next morning I couldn't honestly say that ayla looked particularly subservient. I guess she wasn't used to sleeping on the floor. But I was beginning to recognize certain signs in her. One was a determination to follow any path she set her mind on. Another, which she may not have recognized in herself and would probably have hotly disputed had I discussed it with her, was what I saw as a need to be overmatched by a strong man. From what I had seen neither her father, nor her brothers had been able to control her fully. And of course her fighting abilities coupled with being a Princess would have played their part when dealing with any other man she came across.
This was going to be interesting, and more complicated than I had first thought, as I am not accustomed to losing. I stretched in the soft bed as I lazily considered the options. I had no need of a slave; she would slow me down in my travels and need looking after and protecting from danger and for a thousand other reasons I preferred to be alone. But I had got myself into a position where I couldn't do other than take her with me. Oh well, a couple of weeks of rough living and she would be begging to go back to the comfort of her father's court. And if I could hasten the day without losing ....
I unfastened the manacles she had chosen for herself from the wooden bed and left them on a nearby table as a reminder. "Slave, run my bath and then go in search of breakfast for us both." Without a word she did as she was bidden while I watched her graceful movements. While she was gone I removed my clothing and slid into the warm water, appreciating such luxuries when they were available though never tempted to give up my freedom in exchange for them.
Some time later she returned with a heavily-laden tray and set it on a side table then turned towards the tub in which I was sitting. With a slight smile I stood up in the warm water, facing her. I saw ayla's eyes widen as they involuntarily wandered over my muscular body. Maybe she had never seen a naked man before, I mused.
"Keep your eyes lowered, slave and come here. I require washing."
It was fairly obvious where her eyes were centered as she walked towards me head bowed. Well, I made no extravagant claims but I had never heard complaints about that particular area. Still saying nothing my newly acquired slave took a soapy cloth and moved behind me, running it over my back and bottom then down both of my legs. Then she moved in front of me. Since I towered over her by some eighteen inches I could see little but the top of her bowed head with it's long rivulets of dark brown hair cascading over her shoulders until it kissed her waist .... and the upper swells of her firmly rounded breasts revealed by the low cut of the skimpy slave costume.
When she ran the soapy cloth over my chest, standing close, I could feel her warm breath playing over skin made sensitive by the water to cause a prickling sensation as ayla washed me. It seemed her breathing was somewhat uneven and thin white silk did little to hide the light brown shadows of two hardening nipples as her hands moved lower in slow circles. Carefully the young girl moved the cloth down over my hips and thighs as she knelt before me, bending forward and revealing the deep cleavage between her breasts while my member began to thicken in response.
"All of me..... " I stressed when she stopped. With an audible gulp ayla raised her eyes to my manhood. "Unless you are not ready to be my slave, girl... " Her body tensed at those words and I expected her to admit defeat but no. With the determination I was coming to recognize and admire she raised both hands towards me. Then with a deliberate motion, ayla dropped the cloth, soaping her hands instead and running her small fingers over the growing length of my cock and around my balls.
While I stood there looking down at the diminutive figure, I felt myself harden rapidly. Inexperienced she might be but her soapy fingers stroked my shaft with delicate inquisitiveness until it stood up fully erect and throbbing slightly. Deep red lips breathed softly bare inches away.
In other circumstances I would have had fun with a slave at a time like this. And I think she would have enjoyed the games too. But this was no ordinary circumstances and I was no slave to my sexual drives.
"Good girl. Now get the breakfast set out," I ordered with what I hoped sounded like firm resolution. As ayla arose her eyes met mine for a brief moment, blazing with emotion. Drying myself I found that look returning again and again to my mind. This spoiled princess could hardly be annoyed that I hadn't taken her, so I had to assume she was irritated at being made to wash me like that.. it seemed my plan was beginning to work. This was going to be easy if she bridled so at having to perform a few menial tasks.
Maybe she thought the life of a slave was to wander around a comfortable palace looking pretty and occasionally popping a grape into the mouth of her grateful owner. Well we would be leaving soon and she would soon find out that I preferred sleeping under the stars. A few nights of camping in the forest should persuade the girl that keeping her stubborn pride wasn't worth the hardships of being my slave. Then I would drop her off with her father and get on with my life.
Into The Forest
Although I made sure ayla packed some more clothing, I left her wearing nothing but a pair of high-laced sandals and the brief white slave costume as we prepared to leave her father's castle. Placing the manacles back onto her wrists, I looped a cord between them and made a show of leading her by this. More than a few servants peered through slitted window or stood gawping openly as I mounted my horse and trotted slowly down the hill, with ayla walking behind hands stretched forwards to the tug of the cord and sandaled feet scuffing the dust. Raising my arm in farewell to her silently watching father, I led his daughter away a slave.
I maintained this for several miles, until we were well clear of the small town and cultivated fields sprawled around her father's home. But in truth I couldn't keep this slow pace forever. I had wanted to impress upon ayla the vision of herself walking in chains from her home, maybe never to return and facing an uncertain future at the hands of a stranger. And yes, if I were honest I quite liked the image of myself that those watching us leave would have seen. Now the watching eyes had been left far behind, it was time to change to more practical ways.
At any rate, ayla seemed rather more subdued when I dismounted in a clearing beside the road. She stood with eyes lowered, awaiting my instructions, though her back and shoulders were still straight. A slow start to the day coupled with the walking pace I had been forced to maintain meant that it was already lunch time, so I unsaddled my horse and let it free to graze, then set the saddle on the ground as a comfortable seat for myself. Finally I acknowledged my new and unwanted slave.
"Do you know anything useful girl? Like how to make a fire or skin and cook a rabbit?"
She visibly bridled at this. "I come second to my brothers in no skill," ayla replied hotly.
"Is that the way your castle slaves address your father, child?" I asked with deceptive gentleness.
"No, my Lord," ayla replied, rather more subdued but still not sounding very submissive. Well, I would settle for the words for now. With one hand I beckoned her closer and removed the manacles then handed her a light hunting bow.
"Go show your skills then slave. I'm hungry," was all I said. It took over an hour but after that time a couple of plump game birds were nicely roasted on sticks and ayla approached me with a rather self-satisfied smile on her lips as she offered one to me then made to sit down with the other. Time for her next lesson.
"Oh no, slave. Not like that at all... " my words halted her in mid stride. "You need to learn your place." Taking the other bird from her hand, I set them both down to one side and reached up, twining my fingers into the long flowing hair and pulling down gently but insistently until the girl was forced to her knees, facing me between my knees. Leaning forwards I moved her body until her posture was correct, back straight and head lowered, knees well spread and hands loosely clasped behind her back. "This is how you attend me, slave."
Taking up both birds, I began to tear pieces off and eat them, all the while watching this princess who would not admit she was beaten. Placing a bit of meat in my palm I lowered it before her face. By reflex ayla moved her hand to take it but my sharp "No" stopped her and she stiffened with resentment before bending her head forwards to take the meat from my hand with her teeth.
As I ate, occasionally offering a morsel to ayla, each time making her eat from my palm, I could hardly avoid looking at her. The young girl held her slave pose well, looking gracefully comfortable. The brief tunic did little to hide her charming body, something I could appreciate while having no intention of using. Lightly tanned breasts filled the top of the garment, which was cut almost low enough to expose her prominent nipples. I could see them denting the fabric even when not erect. And the short hem had ridden up far enough that I could not only see her nicely rounded legs, but also a shadowy hint of the dark brown fuzz covering her mound between them. It was a pleasant sight to occupy me while I ate.
The sun beat down warmly as I sat there, a light breeze playing over my skin and bringing with it a scent of jasmine. With little danger in these parts I had left my armour tied behind the saddle and was wearing nothing but a short leather kilt, and I felt remarkably good as I stretched until my muscles creaked. Tossing the remains of our meal into the undergrowth I snagged a canteen of water and held it to ayla's lips so she could drink from it. The spluttering sounds told me that in this at least she would need some practice. Time for my slave's next lesson I thought, not stopping to consider that I was shifting slightly from my intention to make her quit and return to her father; that I was starting to act more as though training her to be my permanent slave.