Dst – For Master (1/2)

Intro: This is a story that came to be sudden;y about a week or two ago. It’s short and tightly focused. Not normally what I write, but after consideration I’ve decided I’ll post it. I finished the last of it just a few hours ago, so it’s a fresh creation. It’s also not exactly a happy story, but you should expect that from me already if you’ve read my other fiction. 😉

Enjoy.

For Master

She awoke slowly as always. Stretching languidly upon the warm silks she opened her eyes to see the gauzy canopy set above her. The pale, transparent fabric allowed a hazy view of the high, domed ceiling above, gold trim already glittering with reflected sunlight. A soft yawn stifled as she sits up on the wide, padded bed, slowly rolling toward the nearest side to part the gauzy curtain hung between high posts.

Revealed to her is the palatial living quarters of her Master. A black and white marble check floor, veiled by the scattering of thick, warm carpets. The low bed centered within the roughly square room, with a mirror, dressers, a table, desk and three chairs scattered around it, all of exquisite quality. But no Master.

Curious, she slips lithely from the bed, pacing slowly toward one dresser, set alongside the tall, freestanding mirror. Atop the dresser was her brush, taken as she steps before the mirror, smiling at her fetching form.

Exotic jade eyes watch as the silver brush passes through her warm copper hued hair, only able to reach so much of her knee length tresses. Framing her heart shaped face with small, pert nose and full, kissable lips. Her petite, five foot tall frame frosted with dark sable fur from her head to her dainty feet. No cloth marred her dark beauty, though her treasures were veiled by them, giving a modicum of modesty. All she needed was the smooth silver band that comfortably encircled her neck, lacking a clasp or seam, a similar band encircling the base of her long, swaying tail.

A pretty little smile played on her lips as she admired herself in the mirror. But she could only take so much time as it required her to brush her hair. So much to do. She set the brush aside again and turned away to flounce back toward the bed. The scattering of satin pillows reminding her of the night before. Unable to hide the satisfied smile of remembrance as she tidied them. The room must be ready for Master.

She roamed the room on silent feet, attending to those things out of place. Master’s bedclothes, carelessly left where he changed, moved to a small basket for other servants to take away. Ending up with his desk. Many papers were left scattered over its top, as if sifted through in a hurry. She looked at them curiously, hungry to know of Master’s business. Yet they meant nothing to her. She could not read.

But she knew they were important. All of Master’s things were important. She carefully stacked them all and opened a drawer for them to be placed into. The glint of metal lead her to pause. A long, keen bladed knife sat at the bottom of the drawer, the very sight of the weapon sending a cold shudder through her body. Afraid at the very sight of it, she quickly swept the papers into the drawer and closed it. she could breath better afterward, retreating to the soft comfort of the bed.

But her repose was broken when the door to Master’s room shuddered under the boom of a powerful blow. Her heart leapt sharply, her body propelled from the bed by a lithe leap. A second booming blow was accompanied by the soft crackle of buckling wood. She slunk back, interposing one of the bed’s delicate posts between her and the door, hugging it as her wide eyes stared at the door. A third and fourth blow came, the crackles rising into a healthy crack. The final blow buckled the door inward, the hinges snapped free. The door fell forward to a noisy rest, but her eyes were set on the doorway and the intruder that filled it.

A great, powerful beast of a man. Garbed in dark blue, he strode through the doorway, his broad shoulders barely clearing either side. HIs build blocky and powerful, one meaty fist held the shaft of a great mace. The other a curved blade that was linked to the base of the mace by a strong chain. She stated at this intruder with a soft flutter of terror lingering in her belly, softened by the dumb shock of so rude an intrusion upon Master’s private room.

“Your master is dead, girl.” The rough, leering voice was like a flaming spike driven through her gut. She wavered against the bedpost, clutching at it for support as the blocky man approached, staring at her with dark intent. “I killed him.. that makes me your new master.” He emitted a low, gravely chuckle as he tucked both ends of his chained weapons into his wide belt, freeing his hands.

His crudely toned words shook her from the numb shock that had gripped her before. Yet she was still unsteady, staggering from the edge of the bed just as he arrived to reach for her. “No..” Her voice was soft.. choked. Her eyes set on the desk, her wavering path set toward it. But the firm step behind her gave little chance she would reach it before he reached her.

She felt his big hand grasp her left arm, arresting her flight effortlessly. “Come here, slave. You’re mine now. And you’re going to serve all of my needs.”

Something in his tone caused her to shake with pure revulsion. Emotions flitted through her with each elevated beat of her heart. Fear, Despair, Terror, Anger.. Hate. A shrill scream fed by this pure hate ripped from her throat, her right hand snapping up. Her long, manicured fingernails latched onto the back of his hand and dig deep. She could feel his flesh give.. fell the blood moisten her fingers as he bellowed out in outrage, snatching his hand away. Two of her nails coming free, still embedded deep into the back of his hand.

“You bitch!” His roar followed her as she lunges for the desk, feeling herself slam into the edge of the desk, her fingers scrabbling as they reached for the top drawer. Not enough time as she heard his bellow coming. She threw herself to her knees, feeling one of his knees graze her back hard as the big man crashed into the desk. His considerable bulk and speed causing him to shatter the finely made desk.