A Thrall's Reward

When I saw the male in chains it certainly got my attention. It took two to three men to keep him under control. I have always been seduced by power, but his was a different sort of power. It was a raw strength that I have never witnessed before. Then again, I had laid eyes on a fighting slave before, but never a champion, as I later learned that he was.

His owner, a Mistress I have never seen before, stopped and spoke with me when I asked her a question. I had asked if he bit, and her reply to me, “Only if you want him to, slave.” I was eating a larma and I ventured close enough to stretch my arm out, the larma very close to his lips. He snapped at it, tearing off a hunk of the fruit, and his handlers had to pull him back. When he struggled with the chains I became intensely aware of every muscle in his body as they flexed and bulged beneath his taut flesh.

I decided in an instant that I wanted him. I turned to his Mistress and begged that she give me to him. Why she agreed, I’ll never know. Perhaps it was for her own amusement. She chuckled lightly and warned me that he was a thrall, and would not be gentle. When had any man ever been gentle with me, and when had I ever not liked it. I, to some degree, have always liked pain. Pain lets me know that I am alive.

Being that we were in the Western District, it was easy to find an abandoned building. There were huge windows, most broken, that allowed the three moon’s lights to spill through. The Mistress sent her guards out to fetch a chair for her and a blanket for the thrall and myself. When he was released he stalked over to me. I was kneeling on the blanket and he reached down and drew me up to my feet by my neck. I could smell his scent; it was of sandalwood and sweat. The kiss he gave me was savage, and intoxicating.

The thrall made use of me for what seemed like hours. My back and ass, which was against the wall, has the marks to prove it. He was not gentle, he bit me several times, and I bit back. We were like two wild beasts lost in lust. He made me yield to him over and over, his stamina was absolutely mind blowing, but then again, he is a fighter.

When he was done the Mistress and her guards returned. She had left his handlers to stand guard. The only time they looked in on us was when they heard my screams. I was taken aback at how the thrall caressed my face afterwards, and then he uttered one word to me...

“Beautiful.”

I don’t think I will ever forget the thrall I only know as No Name.
He is a slave like me, but there is nothing submissive about him.
He is a fighter, a man, and that night, a Master of my body.