Joined together by the chains running between the yokes that held their hands up by their necks and the chains that ran between their anklets, they had to move like one composite animal. To break the rythmn would cause a collision and the slave who caused a delay would be punished by the guards.
Yamrah could see the marks of one such punishment on the naked back of the slave in front of her. She had stared at that same sight for four days, ever since she had been sold to her current master.
That had been at a small city of tents that had formed a semi-permanent slave market at one of the crossroads where the great roads of the Empire met. She had been sold on twice since the dreadful day that her conqueror, her barbarian owner, Cormorn, had enslaved her, bound her to him by magic, taken her with the passion of a warrior and then cast her aside, sending her south to be part of the loot of her conquered city.
She shivered: it did her no good to think about her lost Master. She was still bound to him: the thought of him, so far away, still aroused the slave-heat in her loins, a heat no other man could fully quench.
She felt a sudden splash of moisture on her cheek and looked aside to see that one of the free women watching the slave coffle pass by had spat at her. She did it again, calling Yamrah names like Slut and Filthy Whore.
It did not matter now that Yamrah had once been a lady of much higher rank, it did not matter that she had once shared the citizenship of the Empire with her abuser. Now she was just a slave, to men and women alike, civilised or barbarian, she was an animal without rights. Yamrah turned aside and forced herself to keep watching the slave in front.
When she had been free she had not abused slaves. She had envied them. Perhaps the woman who spat on her had felt the same envy but could not admit it.
Then the head of the coffle was turning off the street and into a leafy courtyard where there was blessed cool and shade and they were being walked on cool, wet grass that felt so good after the hot pavement and cobbles of the road. The coffle came to a halt and the order was given, first to squat into a sitting position and then to lie down, their bare backs on the lawn.
The guards came along the line of yoked slaves and raising each individually to a sitting position, gave them water and the hard, cheap slave biscuit that was standard rations for slaves being marched in coffle.
As she was raised up, Yamrah muttered: "Thank you, Masters," and then lay back looking up at the leafy shade of the trees as she gratefully chewed on the biscuit, the first food she'd had that day.
Only a few weeks ago, she thought, she had eaten the finest foods at the table of her husband the governor and had a dozen servants to command. Now she called the rough, crude guards 'Master' and served them around their campfires in the evenings. It was strange, but she was not discontented.
Then the voice of her Owner, of the coffle's owner, the merchant Norochai, rang out across the courtyard: "Slaves sit up! Slaves stand for inspection." Groans came from some of the women but were quickly silenced as the quirts of the overseers went to work. Soon they were all on their weary feet again, facing forward as their Owner walked along the line.
Yamrah sneaked a sideways glance and then saw he was accompanied by a dark, smiling man in apparent middle age. Then Yamrah nearly gasped. The man wore the robes of a master Magician! She forced her eyes to the front as they approached.
"And this one? I see she already wears the ring."
Norochai nodded as the wizard fingered the magical golden ring that Yamrah had worn in her nose since the day of her enslavement.
"Yes, she was bound by some northern wizard working for the barbarians. You'll be better able to judge the quality of the work, Lord Kandoulous."
Kandoulous? That was the name of the most famous mage in the whole of the Empire. He had carried out the enslavement of her childhood friend, now the slavegirl Ali, and owned the largest and most exclusive slave-training house in the world.
"It looks acceptable. Who ringed you, girl?"
"Master Falmethon, if it please you, Master."
"Falmethon? His reputation is good. Working for the barbarians is he, now? Not entirely voluntarily, I'll be bound."
"No, Master."
"Hmmm. What is your name, slave?"
"My Master has named me Yamrah, Master."
"Ahhh, a northern name, and one of the higher clans if I'm not mistaken. Was it your name when free?"
She nodded blushing and the wizard turned to the trader.
"Yes, I'll take this one."
And he continued on down the line. The overseer took the keys from his belt and began to unfasten her from the coffle. As simply as that she had been sold.
********
It was three hours later and Yamrah felt she had stepped into a different world. She had been taken into the slave quarters of the great house and into the first proper cleansing she had experienced since begining the long journey south.
The guards had let the slaves splash themselves with water at rivers on the way but here there were real hot showers and soaps and skin creams to sooth away the callouses that had formed on the skin of Yamrah's feet and the sores around her neck where the iron collar had rubbed. The fact that she had to shower under the eye of a guard and in the company of the three other slaves her new Master had bought from the caravan did not diminish her pleasure in the least. She washed her hair and combed out the knots and kinks and sand.
Afterwards, she and her three companions were fitted with comfortable steel collars and given brief suede ponchos that were the everyday wear of Kandolous' slaves. They were then taken to a corridor and ordered to kneel by a large oak door, with their hands on their heads and their eyes cast down.
They waited. The guard leaned against a wall and whistled, tunelessly. Eventually, the door opened and a woman opened the door. She was dressed as a slave and her skin was the most unusual colour Yamrah had ever seen.
It was dark brown like rich earth or chocolate. Her long black hair hung unbound down her back.
"The Master will see this one first."
She pointed at Yamrah. Her voice was strange too, with an accent that Yamrah could not identify.
"Enter on all fours, girl."
She was clearly a slave but she clearly had a position of authority. Yamrah obeyed and followed at the heels of the barbarian woman, kneeling up at a commanding click from her fingers. The dark-skinned woman went and knelt at a small table scattered with papers and took up a quill pen, poising it over a scroll.
"Welcome, slave."
Yamrah looked up and saw Lord Kandolous seated in a wooden chair and holding a goblet in one hand. He seemed to be contemplating her.
"Master. How may your slave serve you?"
He smiled. "That's really charming."
Yamrah frowned, puzzled. "Master?"
"The accent, my dear, the true tones of the upper-classes in the mouth of a slave. That is truly delicious. Yes, I can see possibilities in you."
Yamrah wasn't sure she liked the sound of that, but dutifully she said, "Thank you, Master."
"Yes, I think that your training can be something rather special. Come closer, my slave."
She crawled forward on all fours and as her face reached his knee, his right hand reached forward and delicatly grasped her nose ring between finger and thumb. A few whispered words left Kandolous' lips and a surge of magical energy flowed down into Yamrah's body. Her head swam and when it cleared she knew that the wizard had altered the enslavement spell so that she was now sexually and submissively focussed on him. She moaned as his hand stroked her hair. The simplest touch made her instantly helpless with total lust for him, with the need to serve him.
"Yes, a very special piece of merchandise."
********
"More coffee, Master Borormon?"
The stout merchant nodded and Kandolous turned to the woman who sat at his side wearing a modest and conservative upper-class dress.
"Would you pour for us, my dear?"
"Yes, my lord." She rose gracefully and went over to a nearby table to refill the cup.
"You said that you had something to show me, Lord Kandolous. Something special. Thank you, my lady."
She smiled courteously and returned to sit demurely on the couch opposite Kandolous. The wizard smiled.
"Yes, indeed. I know you are the only merchant who could possibly have the contacts to handle such a unique oppurtunity. Tell me, my friend, what do you think of Lady Yamrah here?"
The merchant blinked and looked puzzled. He normally came to Kandolous for only one thing, slave women. Kandolous was the best source of magically bound slave girls, especially with his secret source of barbarian girls who he obtained cheaply and trained to perfection. It was normal for the two of them to discuss women when together. But those were only slaves. This was a free woman of the aristocracy and it was a grave breach of manners to discuss her as one would a piece of property.
"Ahhh, well, she has been a charming hostess. Most charming."
He smiled at the woman and she smiled back. Inwardly he thought: An icicle. Like so many of these upper class women. Thank fortune that I can afford to keep slaves and not have to marry one like that!
"Yes and I know that Lady Yamrah has enjoyed having you here. Haven't you, my dear?"
"Yes, my Lord."
"Show Master Borormon how much you appreciate having him here."
Wordlessly the woman picked up a banana from the bowl of fruit that lay on a small table near by. She brought it to her mouth and began to lick and suck on it in a manner that made Borormon's eyes bulge out of his head.
"My Lady....!"
"Show Master Borormon your party trick, Lady Yamrah."
"Yes, my Lord."
She reached to the belt of her dress and undid it, letting it fall to the floor to reveal that she was naked beneath it. Boromon's eyes bulged out further; upper-class women normally wore many layers of undergarments of near inpenetrable thickness. She sat back down with her legs splayed wide and began to frig herself with the banana, plunging it deep inside her. Then she began to talk, her voice icily cool and aristocratic.
"Have you been in the capital this year, Master Borormon? I understand that the Emperor has fully recovered from the illness he suffered earlier in the year. I am so glad that the Birthday Celebrations will not have to be delayed. Have you seen the barbarian ambassadors? I understand from my dear friend, Lady Wiscentor, that they have been thrown out of three of the finest hostelries because of their habit of burning the furniture. That, of course, and the smell..."
And all the while she kept up this stream of prattle she kept the banana moving in and out of her cunt, making it gleam with her juices. The merchant turned to the wizard with amazement on his face.
"But she is..."
"A slave. But a very special slave. She was once a member of the northern aristocracy and captured by the barbarians. I have given her the name 'Lady Yamrah' and instructed her not to call me 'Master'. She has been given permission to wear free women's clothes and act like a freewomen in most ways. We have of course also trained her as a slave in the arts of serving men."
"But she wears no ring!"
"Oh, the slave ring is there, but with an extra enchantment laid over it. It is invisible to all but the woman's Master."
"Well, she is lovely. And I can see that the jest might be entertaining. But as a piece of merchandise, what use is she once people know...."
"Oh, do think carefully, old friend! It need never be known. She can pose as a Lady forever. She can be the perfect social hostess and the perfect sex-slut! And that means that for those of your clients who want to hide the fact that they are keeping a slave, or those of your clients who would like people to think they have married above them...."
"Ohhh." Light and greed dawned simultaenously on the merchant's face.
"And it is so very nice to have someone with such an upper class accent begging for sexual release. Beg, Lady Yamrah."
The stream of social prattle ended and her voice became desperate.
"Oh, my Lord, please, please, touch me, use me, it has been so long. The other slaves hate me because they think you use me every day. If only they knew. Let me serve you, please. Let me suck you, lick you, my lord please, please. I burn. I ache for you."
"Be silent. Well?" The bargaining took five minutes and at the end of it Kandolous had sold her for twenty times what he paid for her. He stood and came over to give her a last order before he transfered her magical fixation to her new owner.
"You may come now, Lady Yamrah."
She shuddered. "Thank you, my Lord. Thank you!"
And she thrust the banana hard into her cunt while frigging her clitoris with the other hand. Kandolous smiled as she collapsed bonelessly at his feet. He was not at root a cruel man and did not deny his slaves release needlessly.
********
Yamrah smiled graciously as the slave-manservant took her outer garment. She took the arm of Master Verimanth and smiled graciously at him as he lead her into the salon. To every outward appearance she was the happiest and most gracious Lady in the Empire, out for an evening of happy socialising with her kindly husband.
In fact Verimanth had bought her at a special auction in the most secret part of Boromon's slave emporium. There had only been three men present, who had entered in masks, so that the unsuccessful clients would not know who had bought the 'special merchandise' and Yamrah too was displayed to them naked but masked so that no-one but her owner and Boromon would know who had bought her, whose 'wife' was only a mind-bound slave.
As Kandoulus had predicted, she fetched a huge sum, three or four times what the wizard had parted with her for, the clients eagerly bidding her price up. Verimanth was a very rich, very fat merchant in his late forties. He had no desire for free women, prefering the attention of slave girls but was dependent upon his even richer aunt for support in his business and aunt did not approve of slave-girls.
He had lived in dread of her finding out about his secret visits to slave-brothels. Now he could enjoy the submissive pleasures with not the slightest sense of danger, in the safety of his own home. Although her mind was bound to serve him and his touch brought a wave of addictive pleasure to her pussy, Yamrah did not like her new Master.
She could see that he was both cowardly and lazy and could not control any woman if it were not for the mind-binding magic that kept them in their place. But none the less she had to serve and obey him, keeping her obedience perfect in every detail. Tonight this meant circulating around the room on her Master's arm. Later it would mean cleaning his body with her tongue.
She had greeted their hosts, a Senator and his wife, and was moving across to speak to a business colleague of her husband/Master when she saw him. Standing in the middle of a gaggle of admiring women was Cormorn, the barbarian leader who had enslaved her!
She stopped dead and for a moment her blood rushed in her ears. She had never forgotten that first day of her bondage, the pleasure and the pain he had inflicted on her. The shame as he sold her the next morning.
She tried to shrink back behind the Senator, to stop the barbarian from spotting her. But she was too late. He towered over the silly women who surrounded him and over most of the men too. His fierce eyes focussed on her and he moved towards her, ignoring the cries for attention of the women around him. He looked out of place in the formal robes of an Imperial Lord but he wore them as well as the furs and leather armour he had worn in the north, at the front of the barbarian horde that had overrun her home.
"Ah, Lord Cormorn, welcome again. May I introduce the Lady Yamrah wife of one of our most distinguished..."
"The...Lady Yamrah and I have met. Greetings...Lady."
He stared down at her, as if unable to believe what he saw.
"Greetings...my Lord."
And deep down inside she knew that some part of her meant that 'my Lord' as a substitute for the other expression that she was forbidden to use. Deep down she knew that despite the binding magics she still wanted to call this man 'Master' and much more sincerly than she meant it when she used the same expression to the man she was bound to.
She turned to the Senator and explained: "Lord Cormorn and I met in the North."
"Ah, well then you will have much to talk of, old times to explore. I'll leave you then..."
The Senator and his wife bustled away and they were left standing alone. He was silent and she found herself saying: "Have you been in the Capital long, my Lord?"
Silence.
"I suppose you are here for the peace conference? Have the talks been going well? I do not concern myself with politics, of course, but my husband..."
"It is not possible." His voice rumbled deep in his chest.
"My lord?"
"Even the men of the Empire could not be such fools."
"I'm sorry? I don't quite understand..."
"Not even they could free you. You made such a perfect slave. Are they eunuchs or just blind?"
She forced herself to be cold and disapproving although she longed to tell him the truth.
"I'm sure I don't know what you are referring to..."
"Yamrah, my dear, you must come and meet some people...Ah, my lord, is something the matter?" It was her Master, Verimanth, stopping his line of social chit-chat as Cormorn's ice-blue gaze pierced him.
"Is this your woman?"
"Uhhh, yes, yes. Uh that is she is my wife. Who may I..."
Cormorn raised one eyebrow and his face showed his total disbelief that this...specimen could own her. "I am Cormorn. Khan and War Leader of the Vu'chanthi. And who are you?"
At the news that he was facing the 'Hammer of the North', the 'Barbarian Conqueror', Verimanth turned pale and stammered out an introduction.
"Ahh, a merchant. That is of interest to me. Now that we have cities of our own to rule, we will have to encourage merchants to visit us. And then there is the fur trade from the north. Are such things of interest to you?"
Greed fought fear on Verimanth's face.
"Yes, well yes indeed! You say cities of your own. Has the Emperor..."
"These matters are not to be announced for a while. I rely on your discretion, sir Verimanth."
"Oh but of course... Did you mention the fur trade?"
"I did indeed. Let me see...Come to dine with me, tomorrow at my apartments in the Lesser Palace. We will discuss it then. And bring your lady with you."
He turned to salute her but instead of a bow, he grasped both shoulders and kissed her farewell on both cheeks, in the barbarian manner. And as his face brushed past hers, she was sure that his cheek brushed against the invisible nose ring. As he left he was smiling.
********
Yamrah lay on a couch by her 'husband' and watched his greedy little eyes follow Cormorn's slavegirl around the room. She had managed to avoid mentioning the fact that Cormorn knew of her enslavement. It was the very limit of her ability to rebel against her binding.
The girl was petite, full-breasted and had lovely long brown hair. She was dressed in silks that were translucent and wore bells at her wrists and ankles that chimed seductively as she moved. Yamrah longed to be in her position and to serve the men as they lounged and talked.
Cormorn and Verimanth had discussed the fur trade and the great advantages that would acrue to both sides if a 'far-sighted merchant' were to establish a market for northern furs and a secure method of transporting them south. In return he might be granted a 'limited monopoly' by those who sold the furs in the north.
"Of course, Verimanth, I would be delighted to make such an arrangement. As you say, there are mutual benefits."
One would never think, to hear such polite tones, that Cormorn was more used to life atop a barbarian war-beast than in the salons of Empire.
"I'm glad to hear you say so, my lord..."
"However, there is one thing you could do for me."
"Your lordship has but to name it."
"Yamrah."
Silence hung in the air for a moment and then Verimanth spluttered.
"My wife? You cannot be serious..."
"No, not your wife. That woman is a slave. I should know. I was the one who made her one. And I want her."
Verimanth spluttered again. He made futile and pointless protestations. But Cormorn had him over a barrel. He knew he could expose the fraud to the world. He also had a huge carrot to go with the stick: the bribe of the northern fur trade.
"And I tell you what, Verimanth, fair exchange is no robbery. I will give you my slave in exchange for yours. Benadi, go and kneel before Master Verimanth. See, is she not fair?"
Verimanth licked his lips as he stared down at the woman before him.
"But, I...I have...I cannot let people know. My aunts..."
"But my dear Verimanth, with the money from the northern trade, you will be rich enough to live as you please and snap your fingers at whoever tries to stop you. Be a man, Verimanth!"
And at that the fat merchant's resistance buckled. He snapped his fingers imperiously and gestured to Yamrah that she should come over to stand by him. He reached forward and touched her nose ring, speaking the word of transfer that the slave never hears. The world swam before her eyes and what seemed a moment later she found that she was kneeling naked on a rug before a fire. Cormorn was standing over her and had just released her nose ring. And as she looked at him she felt again that wave of submission and pleasure that he had aroused in her that first night of her enslavement. She looked up at his body, hard and strong and not in the least softened by life in the upper reaches of Imperial society.
She saw his cock, the thick, strong organ that had so fascinated her when she saw it in the slave market back home, fascinated her enough that she had bought him off the block at an outrageous price. She felt awe and gratitude mingle in her and she bowed her head to the floor and kissed his feet. She did not stop until he reached down and entwined his fingers in her hair, pulling her up againg painfully. He crouched and, after studying her for a second, pulled her face up to his, kissing her fiercely. His other hand roamed over her body, down from her breasts, where her already hardened nipples burned, to the moistness between her legs. After a few moments that seemed unending, he broke away.
"Slave."
"Master."
She had said it and knew in her heart that she meant it as she meant it with no other man. He released her and stood again, pausing to throw a couple of more logs on the fire. She watched him contentedly, stretching her arms, luxuriating in being there and in the fire he had aroused in her. Then she became aware of a jingling sound and looked down at herself.
Her 'respectable matron' clothes were gone and she was dressed as the other slave had been, in nearly transparent silk and dancing bells at wrist and ankle. Cormorn saw her look and laughed.
"Well, I couldn't let poor Verimanth leave with a woman was obviously not his wife. So we swapped clothes. It seemed appropriate."
"Yes, Master. This is right for me now."
"Hmmm. Take the silk off and assume display position!"
She stood instantly at the command and drew the tunic over her head before adopting the position: legs slightly apart, hands clasped behind her neck and elbows back, so as to bring her breasts forward. He looked at her and then came forward.
"Yes, very nice. They have kept you in good condition, your other Masters."
"Yes, Master."
She looked down, suddenly finding her eyes full of tears.
"What is it?"
She was silent but shook her head.
"What is it, Slave? Answer me!"
"You sent me away!"
Even she was surprised at the fury in her answer and she wondered how she could speak so to her Master.
"You sold me!"
"Ah, so that's it." He went and sat in a huge wooden chair by the fire. "You know that I should whip you for speaking like that."
She looked donw, ashamed. "Yes, Master."
"What is your name, Slave?"
"I do not yet have one, Master. You have not yet named your Slave."
"Would you like to be called Disobedient? Or Sulky?"
She smiled despite her tears. "No, Master."
"Then let's have no more of that. Come here." She broke position and went and knelt by his chair.
"Yes, I did send you away. I could tell you that I did it for good reason. That I wanted you to be trained by southern masters. That I always planned to reclaim you. It wouldn't be true."
She waited for him to speak again and he reached out and stroked her hair, gently.
"The truth is that I...that I panicked that morning. Oh yes, it's true. I wanted to keep you. But I was afraid that...I would need you so much it would weaken me. And I need to be strong. To rule my people and to control the lands we have conquered."
She looked up at him. "Do I still frighten you, Master?"
"Impudence! No, I know now that I was being weak in sending you away, not strong. I will not do it again."
"No, Master. You will not!"
"Ah, I'll have to fight off my warriors just to let them know that you belong to me and no-one else. I hope you'll be worth it."
"I will do my best, Master."
"Your name is Yamrah."
"Yes, Master. I am Yamrah. Thank you, Master."
"Come here and show me what those southern Masters have taught you."
She came forward on all fours and bent her head to his manhood. Her tongue ran along the lovely, lovely length of it and she slipped the tip, peeking through the foreskin into her mouth. As she felt it harden at her sucking and felt her own juices begin to flow more freely in response, she promised herself that she would be a hundred slaves to her Master so that he would never have to look at another.
As her clever, educated tongue began to work on him, Cormorn leant back and closed his eyes. He wondered if she would ever know that he had removed the binding magic from her nose ring and left her free to disobey him. He did not like having to rely on anything other than his own manhood to keep his women enslaved. From now on her submisson would be the real thing, not an artificial slavery but a true giving of her true self. He chuckled and thought that he might eventually tell. Say in fifty years or so!