Raising her head defiantly to glare at the Slave Master, Neomee debated on punching him in his manhood.
The Slave Master eyed her incredulously, “You disrespectful...,” he again slapped her upturned face.
Just take the punishment! Neomee knew the entire dining hall was watching the spectacle. She was trying with all her will to coax herself into being submissive, but was so angry that it was a losing battle.
Slowly rising to her feet to stand between the towering Cat and the menacing Slave Master, she licked at the trickle of blood that was seeping from the corner of her mouth. She knew she should have stayed cowering on the ground, but it wasn’t in her.
“I apologized. It was an accident.” She finally lowered her eyes and fought to keep them locked on the floor.
The Slave Master barked, “It was an accident? Is this how you address me?”
Leaving her chin low, Neomee raised her eyes to scowl up at the Slave Master. Seconds passed and she refused to supply the term ‘master’ that he sought.
“I’ll show you who’s in charge.” Angrily, the Slave Master lifted his hand to slap Neomee a third time, but just as his hand was about to collide with her cheek it was halted.
The Cat standing beside her caught the Slave Master’s hand before it could connect.
“Prince! Please forgive me. I only seek to punish this impudent slave for her great disrespect to you.” The Slave Master was bowing repeatedly in a disgusting display of submission. “Please Prince. If you permit I shall take her to the quarters where I promise you Prince, her punishment will be severe for having interrupted your evening meal.”
Prince? Great! Of course he’s a Prince. I wouldn’t spill wine on just any old Cat now would I. Neomee’s frame was taut with tension as she wondered if the Cat was in fact a Prince or if that was the title given to all the Cats.
“Leave it.” The Cat’s growled command left the Slave Master confused.
The Cat dropped the Slave Master’s arm and crossed to stand directly in front of Neomee as if to shield her from the Slave Master’s view. Neomee couldn’t see the Slave Master over the Cat’s massive frame. She eyed the three black stripes painted down the expanse of the Prince Cat’s impressive back. The stripes accompanied by the speckles painted on his broad shoulders were distinctly similar to the pelt pattern of the king cheetah.
The Slave Master reached around the Prince and grabbed Neomee roughly by the arm, “Yes Prince! As you wish!”
The Prince Cat locked strong fingers around the Slave Master’s wrist. “Leave her!”
“Prince, yes! Yes, my Prince.” The Slave Master backed away from the Cat and exited the room.
Neomee was actually trembling when the Cat turned to face her. She didn’t raise her eyes as the Cat lifted a strong hand to her cheek and slid it down. Strong fingers lifted her chin until her eyes met his. Then his index finger swiped across her chin to wipe the blood that trickled there. As the Prince lifted the bloody finger to his mouth and sucked the blood from his finger, Neomee slowly backed away.
Turning, she quickly strode to the far wall to take her place among the slaves that waited there. Typically the slaves would line the wall and stand quietly, eyes averted, until the Cats had finished their meal.
Finding her place, Neomee filled in her position and turned to face the dining hall, eyes still averted, body still trembling. None of the slaves were permitted to speak or even move.
A chorus of murmurs rose in the dining hall as the Cats were finally able to commence their evening meal.
Standing against the wall, Neomee could still feel the Prince Cat’s eyes as they bore into her. She wondered if he still watched her or if the feeling was just residual from his earlier intense scrutiny that had left her feeling electrified.
Several minutes into the meal, Neomee decided enough time had passed. She had to know. Slowly, she let her eyes slide over to the Cat…Prince. Amon! Their eyes locked and again Neomee felt electricity coursing through her body. The Prince starred back.
Neomee knew she should look down, but could not. What was that expression he was wearing? Anger? Hatred? Pity? No. Neomee’s face paled with the realization as she tore her eyes away and looked down. Desire. Unmistakable, unbidden, desire.
Granted she was a slave and the lowest form of life existing in the temple, hell even the scorpions were revered, but slave or not she was still a woman, and she knew desire when she read it on a man’s face.
For the remainder of the meal, Neomee fought her urge to look back to the Prince, but she knew he never took his eyes from her. Her skin bristled knowing he still watched her.
Dinner seemed to drag on forever. Finally as Cats rose and began to trickle out of the dining hall, Neomee still refused to raise her eyes. Starring down at her sandaled feet, concentrating too hard, Neomee’s head snapped up as the slave next to her inhaled sharply.
Amon! The Prince Cat was approaching. Quickly, Neomee dropped her gaze to the floor and even as the Prince stopped and stood mere inches in front of her, she refused to look up. She could feel the tension in her fellow slaves on either side of her and noted that they inched away. Wringing her hands behind her back, her breath caught as the Prince leaned in and sniffed her.
Whoa!
About the Author
Susan Bliler, a Legal Services Investigator for the State of Montana, is a member of the Gros Ventre and Assiniboine tribes of Northern Montana.
She is a graduate of the University of Great Falls, where she earned her Bachelor’s Degree in Paralegal Studies and minored in Criminal Justice.
She lives in Great Falls, Montana, with her husband and two dogs.
Visit her at SusanBliler.com for exclusive excerpts of soon to be released works.
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