A Warrior's Redemption

by Guy S. Stanton III

  *****

  Krista picked her head up off the pillow it had been laying on. She was stiff and completely disoriented. All of a sudden, like the rush of a wave crashing onto the seashore, everything came back to her.

  She sat up abruptly and gasped. She had been lying on her stomach, and now, looking down at herself, her mouth fell open. She had practically nothing on! Nothing that could pass for clothes anyway.

  Her breasts were encased in a soft vibrant material that left a lot of her chest exposed, while her stomach and back were completely bare. The fabric was held in place by thin straps that went up over her shoulders and across her back.

  The left strap had been left undone and the back of her shoulder burned and twitched painfully. She wanted to scratch it but wasn’t sure what her fingers would find so she resisted the urge.

  The room was lit dimly by candlelight, but she could still see the light reflecting off the gems that were set in a necklace around her neck. The necklace appeared to be made of solid gold! There were golden arm bands around her upper arms as well.

  She got up from the bed she had been laying on and walked over to a mirror she had noticed from the bed. Her lower half was incased in nothing but a short silky dress that went no farther than mid thigh and was of a similar pattern and material as what barely encased her breasts.

  She was barefoot, but she could see anklets similar to her necklace adorning her ankles. Her hair was elaborately worked about her face and neck. Somehow, they had taken the unruly mass of curls and put them under a semblance of arranged order.

  She touched the skin of her bare stomach and then held her fingers up to her nose. They had oiled her skin with some kind of fine lotion and the smell was soothing with a hint of spice to it. She met her own eyes in the mirror and stared at herself in shock. Big tears slid their way down her face, which, feeling so tight and sensitive, felt as if it was made of new skin. Nothing her short skirt concealed felt as if it had been used, but her fate was as sure as the reflection of the strange erotic looking woman looking back at her from the mirror.

  She would rather have died from the rigors of a life spent as a field slave as opposed to this gilded existence as a pretty bird of paradise locked away in a cage of gold and fine linens. She reached up to wipe the tears from her eyes, not wanting to display her moment of weakness to anyone.

  Her action caused her pain from behind her left shoulder blade again. Remembering the pained itchiness, she turned and stared over her shoulder, in shock at what she saw. The ugly symbol of her slave status was no more and yet it was. Someone had used the darkened edges of the lopsided nine and turned it into the base of a work of art.

  Radiating out from the loop of the nine were the lush petals of a rare tropical hygana flower in full bloom. The tail of the nine was the stem of the flower. The petals were exquisite in detail and lacked nothing in comparison to their natural counterpart. The tattooed shading of the petals and their intricate markings completely masked the ugliness of her old slave scar, which had to be felt to be noticed at all.

  What master would go to such great lengths to hide the ugliness of a scar? Hers apparently! Looking around she saw that she was in the same room as she had been in earlier in the day. The door was open!

  Cautiously she made her way over to it and peered out into the dimly lit corridor. It must be late at night for she heard not a sound except for the chirping of insects outside the mansion. No one was in the hallway, but, at the end of the hall, light streamed out of an open doorway.

  Drawn like a moth to a flame, she slipped into the hallway and softly approached the light, diligent not to make any noise in her approach. Reaching the opened door, she peered in and beheld a room of a definitely more masculine reflection.

  Sitting behind a big oaken desk to one side of the room sat the man who had bought her. He had piles of paper before him, with which he seemed very busy.

  He was writing something down when he spoke, “Come in and have a seat.”

  He pointed to a chair across from the desk without even looking up at her. Surprised, Krista jumped back from the doorway. How had he known she was there? She debated about running back down the hallway to her room, but what good would that do? She cautiously stepped into the room, feeling more exposed than she ever had in her whole life.

  “Close the door behind you.”

  Krista swallowed hard, but obeyed. She approached the desk and sat in the indicated chair as her master continued watching her closely the entire time.

  “You, my dear, are truly stunning,” he said the words almost with a hint of regret she thought. “You must have some questions, well, what are they?” he asked, somewhat impatiently, as he sat back in his chair, his hands interlocked behind his head.

  Krista’s voice was soft as she tried to get over the awkwardness of being before a man while half clothed. “Am I to be your sex slave and if so, why all this?” she asked, indicating the expensive jewelry she wore.

  He looked at her for a moment and then responded, “Yes, to your first question, but not in the traditional sense. As to the golden baubles, they are but the expected trappings needed to conjure the image I want others to believe about you.”

  Krista stared at him puzzled, not understanding at all what he meant by, ‘not in the traditional sense’.

  As if reading her mind, he gave an explanation that left her blushing, “Sadly, I no longer possess the physical part of me that was made to find enjoyment in the created glory of a female body such as your lovely one, my dear.”

  Feeling like she had turned ten shades of red, she stared at him raptly. Was he saying that he was a eunuch?

  “Yes, I am saying precisely that.” He’d read her mind again!

  “The line of work in which I engage, as well as the spheres of influence in which I mingle, require me to imitate a somewhat worldly persona. A worldly persona that unfortunately I am no longer able to fulfill in the natural, hence the need for subterfuge with all the fine trimmings, which is where you come in, my dear, as my devoted companion slave. You will serve me in the public’s eye as my devoted companion catering to my every wish, while in private you will aid me in the work that I do as a trusted assistant. What is your name?”

  “Krista Denas,” Krista managed to get out, even as she tried to comprehend the enormity of what he was saying.

  “A fine name. It suites you well. Krista, the work I do is of a private nature. Were you to divulge my business to anyone I would have to have you killed. Do I make myself clear?”

  Krista swallowed and nodded her head.

  “In return for your devoted service, I will see that no harm comes to you. In the course of our work together I will need to place a lot of trust in you. As a friend would to another friend so to speak, which is how I will treat you out of the public’s eye. In the public’s eye you will appear, for all intents and purposes, as my sensual slave companion, maintaining the facade that I have carried on for quite some time. Are your duties clear to you, Krista?”

  “Yes, master,” Krista replied quickly, unable to hold back a little of the joy she felt at his explanation of their relationship.

  “Good, glad to see that you’re as sensible and smart as you are strong of spirit and beautiful of body. Please, call me Sebastian instead of master. You make me feel rather tyrannical when you say that.”

  It had been later than she had thought, or rather earlier, because the early morning rays of sunlight had begun to stream into the room taking away the shadows of the night’s darkness. “Rugar, now that our business relationship has been agreed upon, how about we seal it with a good breakfast before we get to work?”

  Startled, Krista turned in her chair to see the man, who seemed to be always with Sebastian, step away from beside the door and enter the room. She had to have walked within inches of him when she had come into the room earlier.

  “Rugar is my trusted companion. Anything you have need of, simply ask h
im and he will, within reason, perform miracles to accomplish it. Speaking of miracles, mind if I look closer at your shoulder?”

  Sebastian had gotten up and moved to the part of the room where the sun’s light was brightest. It hadn’t really been a request on his part and she got up, walked over to him and turned her back to him.

  “Well done, Rugar! A work of art, if I don’t say so myself.”

  Krista looked at the tall man, who's bruising hands had kept her from escaping, with new found respect. He was about to leave when Krista turned back to Sebastian, “If it would please you sirs, I will go and get your breakfast and serve you?”

  Sebastian’s eyes twinkled appreciably at the assured way she had assumed her new role and nodded his head in affirmation of her request. Krista paused beside Rugar on her way out the door. She hesitated for a moment and then looked up and said, “Thank you.” She motioned briefly towards the back of her shoulder by way of explanation.

  Rugar gave her a short decisive nod and she continued on out of the room in search of the kitchens. After she was gone, Rugar and Sebastian shared a meaningful look.

  “Sebastian, she is far rarer than the hygana blossom I tattooed on her back.”

  “Yes, she is. We will have to take good care of her,” Sebastian agreed thoughtfully.

  After breakfast, Rugar left the small study without explanation and Sebastian seemed to need none. “Alright my dear, let’s get to work. The paperwork has been piling up as usual and must be dealt with. Here, read through these letters, find the ones with Zoarinian addresses and separate them out for me.”

  Kristina felt a moment of panic seize her as he put the letters into her open hand.

  Seeing her expression he asked, “What’s wrong?”

  Krista, not able to meet his eyes, stared dejectedly at the floor, “I…. I can’t read. I only know a little about numbers and simple calculations.”

  There was a silent moment, which Sebastian broke by taking the letters back. “A bit of a setback, but nothing that can’t be overcome my dear. Come with me.”

  He led her over to a window seat and gestured for her to sit down. He sat down beside her and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. “Since you don’t know how to read, I’ll teach you.”

  He made a big symbol on the paper and pointed at it with the pen. “This is the letter A, as in alley cat. You say it.”

  “A.”

  “Very good.” He made another symbol, “B.”

  Krista repeated the letters after him, scarcely able to believe how her fortunes had changed for the better. She had always yearned for the ability to read, which was something slaves were rarely ever taught to do. She hung on every word of instruction from Sebastian, as if it was one more key to a puzzle that unlocked a golden prize.