Three Favors

By

L.K. Lynch

Copyright 2020. All rights reserved

Published by B.J. Frazier Publications, LLC

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s hard work.

This book is a work of fiction

Adult Reading Material

Table of Contents

Author’s Note

Introduction

Volume I

Chapter 1 - The Loser’s Draft

Chapter 2 - The Challenge

Chapter 3 - The Beginning

Chapter 4 - The Warning

Chapter 5 - The Darkness Inside Her

Chapter 6 - Surrender

Chapter 7 - Precious Release

Chapter 8 - A Tournament

Chapter 9 - The Branding

Chapter 10 - The Ring

Chapter 11 - Private Thoughts

Chapter 12 - The Pupil

Chapter 13 - Eve of the Competition

Chapter 14 - Tournament Day

Volume II

Chapter 15 - The Journey

Chapter 16 - Jack

Chapter 17 - Laurel

Chapter 18 - Nudes

Chapter 19 - Alicia

Chapter 20 - Friends

Chapter 21 - The Rematch

Chapter 22 - Beach, Part 1

Chapter 23 - Beach, Part 2

Chapter 24 - The Auction, Part 1

Chapter 25 - The Auction, Part 2

Chapter 26 - Confrontation

Chapter 27 - The Fever

Chapter 28 - Breakfast in Bed

Chapter 29 - Playing with Fire

Chapter 30 - John and Katherine

Chapter 31 - Favors

Chapter 32 - The Governor

Chapter 33 - The Engagement

Chapter 34 - The Duel

Chapter 35 - A Funeral and a Wedding

Epilogue

About L.K. Lynch

Connect with L.K. Lynch

Author’s Note

This story, built around the relationships of people in a different time and a faraway land, contains graphic descriptions of sex, torture and violence, of both a consensual nature and otherwise. It also contains limited passages with brief flashbacks to formative events in certain characters’ childhoods; some may find these passages disturbing.

As with any fantasy novel, the rules and mores of this earth, be they current or from the past do not necessarily apply. Behaviors of the characters are a product of the time and setting that they are in and therefore may not always conform to those of the 21st Century.

Happy reading!

L.K. Lynch

Acknowledgements

I sincerely thank Kris, who provided the writing prompt that became the seed from which this tale sprouted.

Very Special Thanks to B.J. Frazier, who inspired this author to hang in there and finish what was started, and provided innumerable edits and suggestions to turn what was a loquacious word-salad into the novel that I hope will be worthy of your appetite.

Introduction

The Wiccan’s Creed:

“There shall be pain and suffering; not only for those who receive it, willingly or otherwise, but also for those who administer it–whether they do so consensually as a means to exorcise their inner demons, or do so callously to impose their evil nature on others.

However, we, who are given otherworldly powers pledge to aid the ones who give and accept pain in the name of love–so they may prevail over those who wantonly cause the suffering of others solely for sake of themselves. But only if they use the favors they are granted wisely.”

VOLUME I

Chapter 1

The Loser’s Draft

Jack and the other slaves who had been assigned to the orange team were herded into a large room at the conclusion of the tournament.

The room was inside the same giant tent where the competition had been held. However, unlike the arena where the spectators surrounded the pit in which the battles were fought, the room they were in was an open but poorly-lit space.

When it seemed as though no one else could be packed into the room, the torches that provided what little light was available were fully extinguished, and the space fell completely black.

(Candles, the only other possible source of artificial light in those times, wouldn’t be nearly up to the task).

The air hung heavy of perspiration as the competitors, battered, bloodied and bruised, were covered in sweat from their brutal events. Jack’s slender but muscular frame bore more than his fair share of abuse.

At least he had won his event, but the team to which he was assigned had lost. As a result, all from his side were brought into the room and were available for selection by the Masters and Mistresses of those who competed for the winning team.

In keeping with the mystique of the invitation-only contest, the choosing was done in total darkness. This was done to prevent an unseemly rush by competing victors to a preferred slave–such as Jack–who may have acquitted himself well in his event.

The owners of the slaves of the victorious team were provided a unique collar to place on a slave, should they find one worthy of their trouble.

With their hands bound behind them, and their mouths gagged, the slaves had been strongly warned to not put up any resistance or objection to a Master or Mistress’ review.

At least now, Jack reminded himself, we can wear these loincloths.

During the competition, the slaves had been forced to fight naked before the rabid crowd.

Jack tried to piece together how he had gotten into his predicament. Because he had a close relationship with his Mistress, the Dame Laurel, he knew she never would have risked him to another Master.

Her love, caring and tenderness was like nothing he’d ever experienced before. Laurel was a Dame and he was but a mere servant from her estate; however, they shared feelings for each other that Jack would have thought impossible.

Laurel couldn’t have known that this was to happen, Jack thought.

It also occurred to Jack that she would somehow try to rescue him.

But almost naked, wearing just the tattered loincloth the competitors were given, Jack was frightened and hurting. He knew that if selected, thoughts of Laurel or hopes of rescue would be in vain. The losing team's competitors that were unlucky enough to be picked by the winning side were known to fare very poorly at the hands of those who took them. Especially those who, like Jack, had won their battle in the losing war. Those unfortunate competitors suffered, often horribly, at the hands of those they had bested… to the new owner's delight.

The pendant awarded to him for winning his event, which hung around his neck, would certainly be his undoing.

The Masters from the victorious blue team spread across the pitch-black room. No one was able to see, but the sounds of shuffling, bumping and movement of barely-clothed bodies could be heard, as slaves made way for victors who were filtering through the mass, blindly ‘shopping’ in the makeshift meat market.

Jack, trying to remain still and unnoticed, suddenly felt a hand behind him and grab his ass, which was easily accessible beneath his tattered covering. It was a man's hand; a Dom looking to replace his underperforming servant.

The Dom wrapped his hand around the front of the loincloth and underneath, feeling for his cock, as though Jack was a beast at auction.

The Dom, ready to stake his claim, felt down the length of Jack’s cock, hopeful that it would not put his to shame. Disappointed but envious of what he discovered, the Dom reluctantly moved on.

Jack felt the garment, which was barely held together before he was groped, tear nearly through as the Dom removed his hand.

Jack didn’t know why his fate wasn’t sealed at that instant, but he knew that similar contacts would not bode well for him.

Frightened and blind in the darkness, Jack knew he had to search for the Dame Laurel, while avoiding the risk of encountering other Masters.

As Jack tried to shoulder his way about the room, he realized that he could dodge the costumed Doms and Dommes by listening for the sounds of their sandals as they shuffled about. Servants like him were all barefoot, and couldn’t be heard.

While turning to avoid a heavy-breathing Dom forcing his way through the servants, he suddenly felt a hand–a woman’s hand–on his chest. Jack instantly stiffened.

The woman was feeling for a familiar feature. Could this be her? No, he knew it wasn’t Laurel’s hand. But the Domme was searching for a winner’s pendant… the one which dangled from the cord around his neck.

Finding it, the Domme ran the beads through her fingers to determine if they represented the event, and the servant, who had bested her man. Five beads; he was the one!

She slid her hand down his chest and underneath his loincloth, sizing him up as the Dom had before. As she did, the last threads holding the shabby garment tore through, and, with Jack’s hands still bound behind him, it fell to the floor.

Smiling, she lifted her distinctive, spiked collar that she would use to claim him, while dread swept over Jack’s naked body.

Just then, a sound was uttered, a forbidden squeal. As quickly as it was heard, the batons of three centurions crashed down upon a servant to the left of Jack; a panicked slave aware of the peril but unable to bear the fate that lay ahead for his lot. Two centurions shoved Jack aside to tackle and hold the slave down while a third beat the man mercilessly.

While the offender was being pummeled, Jack ducked away from the Domme who wanted to claim him. He pushed his way through the crowd, trying to escape fate yet again, and, if the gods would be with him, find the Dame Laurel.

* * * *

Meanwhile, Laurel, through great personal sacrifice had, in fact, gained entry to the room. While searching for Jack, she cursed her hasty decision to enter him in the contest, still trying to figure out how the situation spun so quickly out of control.

What was I thinking? Laurel thought. I should have listened to my instincts and withdrawn from this event…

With the vision of Jack still fresh in her head, she knew right away why she had wanted him to participate. God, he looked wonderful, oiled and nude in front of the crowd, fighting for my honor, she gushed. It was never supposed to be that I could lose him...

As Laurel tried to figure out how she might find him in the darkness, she heard a disturbance across the room. As she began making her way in that direction, feeling her way in the dark, Laurel felt a rush of air when someone passed by. That smell, that aroma, could it be?

Laurel turned around and reached out, making her way back towards the one with the scent she knew. She pushed past bodies until she landed on her slave. When she touched Jack, the electricity and magic of her hand against his skin was familiar; the way it felt before.

And Jack knew it was her. A feeling of great relief washed over them both as he bowed his head while Laurel reached around his neck to loosen the tie that held his gag in place.

Dropping the gag to the floor, Laurel wrapped her arms around him. She cupped the back of his neck, pulling Jack tightly against her, and kissed him deeply. She had found him; and he her.

As Laurel placed the blood-red collar around Jack’s neck, she leaned in and whispered, so softly that he could barely hear, “Never again, my love.”

Chapter 2

The Challenge

“Not so fast!” The verbal command was an enormous break from protocol at the event, and it came from the Domme from whom Jack had escaped just moments before.

The torches were relit. As the darkness was vanquished, the mass of bodies cleared away from the lovers and formed a large circle around Jack, who stood naked in front of Laurel.

Dangling the remains of his loincloth from her finger as evidence, the Domme entered the circle.

“I had chosen him, as is my right by virtue of being on the victorious side, and I will take him with me as the rules have provided!”

“She is correct, my Lady,” the event official confirmed to Laurel. “As unclaimed property at the time she found him, she has the absolute right to assume ownership.”

Laurel couldn’t believe her ears. She thought she had known the rules of the contest!

Her heart sank, realizing that, if what the official said was true, she had entered her servant in a tournament where he could be taken from her. Nothing about the tournament was what Laurel understood it to be.

* * * *

For centuries, a caste system was used in the land of Gehenna consisting of Masters and Dames, freemen and servants. Masters and Dames, the upper class, usually inherited their wealth and status.

The middle caste was made up of freemen and freewomen, and it was possible to achieve a position in the upper class; usually as entrepreneurs, scholars or philosophers. Mostly, however, the freemen and freewomen toiled to provide for themselves and their families, sometimes working side by side, but never being lowered to the plight of those mired at the bottom rung.

Servants (slaves, really, as there was no distinction between the terms in Gehenna), occupied the lowest caste, and usually owed their unfortunate lot to crimes committed or debts incurred by themselves or passed down from ancestors.

Gehenna had few prisons. Therefore, freemen or freewomen who were found guilty of crimes, depending on the severity, were either hanged or conscripted to slavery.

Unlike freemen, servants had no rights, freedoms or possessions. They could be bought or traded, but were always in the ownership and control of a Master or Dame.

Masters or Dames whose main stock-in-trade was in dealing in the possession, trade and exploitation of slaves were known informally as Doms or Dommes.

Unfortunately for the servants, it was virtually impossible to relieve their debt or pay for their crimes, whether due to their own misdeeds or transgressions passed down, as was the case with Jack.

Only a King or Queen could lift a servant out of slavery… and such events rarely occurred. Thus, slavery was integral to the social, legal and economic system in Gehenna.

The rare Master or Dame who secretly objected to the laws was powerless to do anything other than treat his slaves with respect and compassion. However, Masters and Dames had to ensure their merciful treatment didn’t cross any boundary that would appear to elevate the status of the slaves. Offenses of that sort would be severely punished in Gehenna.

And by Law, servants couldn’t marry their way out of servitude with a freeman, Master or Dame; the latter being quite unthinkable.

Of course, none of the laws prevented Masters and Dames from using their position of power to satisfy their sexual fantasies, desires and proclivities…

Such as entering their servants in tournaments for amusement.

* * * *

Laurel was in denial about the nightmare that unfolded before her. Her servant Jack was about to be spirited away into the hands of a Domme who sought him for retribution… winning the battle against her slave, and earning the honor for his Dame.

The Domme unceremoniously removed Laurel’s collar from Jack, tossed it to the ground and placed her collar around his neck.

Jack, his arms still bound behind him, shot a quick glance toward his love.

Grief-stricken, Laurel barely returned the look, but noticed the slight nod Jack made toward a nearby centurion’s spear.

She knew instantly what he was suggesting but couldn’t bear to call for it. But she also knew that the odds of ever seeing each other again provided no other choice.

“Wait!” Laurel shouted. “I challenge her claim to this servant.”

A murmur ran through the crowd.

“The Dame is seeking a challenge contest,” the tournament official announced. As an aside to Laurel, he added, “Such a contest is rarely won by the challenger.”

In such a challenge, the victorious Domme got to pick the contender who would go against Laurel’s slave, and she also chose the competition event.

It was clear that Laurel was at a disadvantage, but she needed to exercise any option she could conjure to get her man back.

Unlike the competition that had just concluded, where the brutal contests consisted of falls and points, a challenge of this nature would feature mortal weapons. For the loser, death would be inevitable.

“A loss by your slave,” the official explained, “should he somehow survive the contest, would have his fate decided by the victorious Domme, and would be meted out on the spot.”

It was not uncommon for a losing slave who survived a defeat to face castration and disembowelment.

The crowd of costumed men, women and other competitors looked at the naked Jack and imagined his well-toned, athletic body tied to the rack as the executioner carved up his manhood before spilling his innards onto the floor for their barbarous viewing pleasure.

Jack surveyed the blood-thirsty mob. There were Masters and Dames decked out in costumes, whose appetites for such a battle had been whetted by the earlier tournament, and were ready for a true death-match as their finale.

The assembled crowd feasted their eyes on him, awaiting his gory demise. The woman who claimed him was in the front row. Standing next to her was a tall, pale woman in gothic form, costumed in deep crimson. Next to her was the overweight Dom dressed as an emperor, who had groped Jack earlier.

Not only was there peril for Jack, but Laurel herself would be at the mercy of the victorious Domme. If Jack didn’t put up at least a meritorious fight for the pleasure of the savage crowd, their collective mood could turn on her. Laurel might be stripped of her possessions and become an outcast.

But Laurel knew Jack’s capabilities and how skillfully he handled such weapons.

Laurel, swallowing hard, repeated her challenge.

“So be it!” The Domme replied. Her selections already made, the Domme pointed to a row of thuggish guards keeping order of the crowd, and announced, “Let the contest be with spears, and I choose as my representatives these three centurions!”

“Three?” Laurel cried.

The tournament official consulted the rulebook. “Yes,” he decreed. “She is allowed one extra for the offense of the slave running away, and one more for your attempted theft of what was to be her property.”

Laurel, shaken to the core by yet another rule of which she was unaware, could only watch and pray that her Jack could summon the strength to survive.

Jack’s wrists were unbound and he was handed a short spear, well-used and dull. He was then made to stand, still naked, in the center of the makeshift ring formed by the onlookers. There, he’d battle the three towering, burly centurions, clad in leather armor.

“Begin!” cried the tournament official.

At once, the centurion behind Jack lunged his spear at Jack’s torso, but Jack spun quickly around and dodged the strike.

Another centurion swung his spear, knocking Jack’s legs out from him with the wooden shaft of the weapon.

The third moved in for the kill but, in one motion, Jack rolled aside and avoided the thrust. With the same motion, Jack swung his spear, striking the centurion with a blow to the head and neck, slicing him open badly. Seriously injured and with blood spurting, his battle was over.

However, with Jack still on the ground, the first centurion lunged again, scoring a large gash in Jack’s leg. Wincing, Jack lifted the fallen centurion’s spear from the dirt and threw it wildly at the one who struck him, but missed.

The other centurion lunged at Jack, skimming the side of his torso, grazing his target and opening a terrible wound.

Laurel gasped as Jack pressed his arm against the opening and pinched the shaft of the spear against his body.

Jack then grabbed for the spear with that arm and pulled it and the centurion toward him. As he pulled the centurion forward, Jack impaled him with the short spear in his other hand.

As Jack scrambled to his feet, the remaining centurion lunged again, glancing a blow off of the side of Jack’s head. Jack, bleeding badly from wounds to his head and body, dropped to his knees, sapped of energy and one step from mortal defeat.

The centurion raised his spear to deliver the final blow. Laurel, standing at the side of the ring, couldn’t bear to watch, but she couldn’t look away.

Everything seemed to slow down as Jack turned his head away from the strike that was to doom him and saw the look on Laurel’s face. Had he endured everything to win her heart only to fail and not wipe away the sadness in her eyes?

Laurel met his gaze, and she summoned a strength that had grown since they met. Jack, she thought as she stared directly at him, don’t let it end this way!

The centurion launched. The spear was perfectly aimed at the center of Jack’s chest. As it zeroed in on its target, it was knocked off course at the last second by Jack’s arm.

In shock, Jack, who had been despondent the second before, stared at his arm as if it weren’t a part of his body. He hadn’t made his arm swing. He had already given up, as he knew–or at least thought he knew–that he was finished.

Being off balance after putting his entire weight behind the push to drive the spear through Jack, and not expecting him to perfectly time the deflection, the centurion stumbled forward and fell to the ground.

Jack, back to his senses, picked up the spear and was about to run it through the defenseless centurion. With one centurion dead, another badly wounded, and the third about to be killed, the official cried, “Enough! The Challenger has won!”

“Did you see that?!” remarked someone in the crowd. “That was amazing!”

“More like witchcraft,” another man replied.

With the contest over, and aware of the battle and the wounds he sustained, Jack collapsed onto the ground. Laurel rushed to him, covering his nakedness as best she could with an orange cloth that she had tucked underneath her dress, and tended to his wounds.

Jack faded in and out of consciousness.

In a dream, he replayed the battle. In a moment near the end, he thought he heard a voice, Laurel’s voice, urging him to protect himself.

Laurel must have willed me to swing my arm, he thought. The strike of spear’s shaft in mid-flight, had been a one-in-a-thousand shot that had saved his life.

Jack awoke to Laurel’s gaze. Laurel, cradling his head, whispered to Jack one more time, “Never again.”

* * * *

Laurel brought Jack back to the manor house at Wildflower, the estate that had been in her family for generations. It was a sprawling, open air structure, on a large property where freemen and servants had worked together in uncommon harmony with Laurel’s ancestors.

Wildflower was legendary in the Eastern Territory for its crops, winemaking and olive oil. The red tile roof and stucco walls of the grand manor house were brushed by the leaves of mature palm trees that provided the shade needed to survive the heat of the mid-day sun.

Jack was laid on her bed, and Laurel brought a basin full of clean water and a sponge to wipe the dirt, sweat and blood from his beaten, naked frame.

Looking him over, Laurel called to her chief aide on the estate, the freewoman Alicia, to bring some absinthe to give him rest.

Jack wanted to sleep, but he was fixated on the vision of Laurel hovering over him, wiping down his body and dressing his wounds.

Working up from his feet, she delicately cleansed his body. Out of the corner of her eye, Laurel noticed that Jack was becoming aroused… even in his battered and bruised state, and feeling the effects of the elixir.

She smiled to herself when she caught his glassy eyes unmistakably focused on her bosom.

“Do you like this, Jack?” she inquired softly.

“I... I...” Jack stammered.

“Do you like this?”

“Yes...”

“Yes, what?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

“Yes, my Lady,” Jack managed.

“Given what you’ve just been through, I suppose I can let that go.” Laurel said with mock sternness.

As Laurel continued to bathe Jack, she nonchalantly rolled her shoulder, allowing the strap of the plunging costume dress to slip down her arm. It revealed her breast, which was soft, round and mesmerizing.

Her nipple, newly exposed to the air, firmed up, and Jack, who still hadn’t taken his eyes from her, grew fully erect. Laurel pretended not to notice as she continued to gently wipe the effects of the contest from his body. Jack groaned.

“Did you say something, my little one?”

Again, he stammered.

“Would you like me to continue?”

“Yes, my Lady.”

“I thought you might.”

Laurel slid the strap from her other shoulder. Both of her flawless breasts were exposed like two teardrops as she leaned over him. She was no longer a girl but a stunningly attractive adult woman, born with the rare gift of beauty that would grow more ravishing with age.

Jack involuntarily groaned again, even as he told himself he should not.

Laurel looked down at Jack and slowly took him in her mouth. Her full, soft lips caressed his swollen cock.

She took great pleasure feeling Jack’s manhood in her mouth as she rubbed her tongue against his shaft. In one sultry motion, Laurel slowly rocked her hips from side to side. The dress that had turned heads at the contest slipped off of her body and lay in a heap on the floor.

Jack wanted to kneel before her, but his exhaustion and the fog of the absinthe had him near paralyzed.

Laurel sensed his desire to move, and placed her hand on his shoulder, pressing him back down.

In his foggy state, Jack cast a blurry gaze at Laurel’s porcelain white skin underneath her dark, reddish-brunette hair. Her green eyes seemed to glow.

Jack wasn’t sure whether it was the light from the setting sun, the soft candlelight or the absinthe, but Laurel looked every bit like a Goddess who came from paradise, saved his life, and was about to make beautiful love to him.

She worked her way up his trembling chest, kissing his freshly bathed skin. When her lips reached the underside of his unshaven chin, she swung her leg over his body, straddling him.

Running her hands through his hair and rubbing her pink, wet opening on his swollen cock, her eyes rolled back as the wild horses of her dominant spirit strained to gallop.

But as she looked at her broken man, Laurel understood immediately that there would be plenty of time for that kind of ride. Now was the time to make gentle love to the servant who had fought so bravely for her… and who had stolen her heart.

Laurel reached between her legs and carefully guided his cock into her, rubbing it along her folds before sliding him into her opening, already wet with anticipation. Then, she slowly stroked him with her entire body.

Jack, powerless, was overcome, even as he tried to hold himself back from the erotic dream that he was in.

Laurel made love to Jack as gently as she possibly could. As she straddled him, she leaned forward and placed her palms on his chest.

Although he wanted to, Jack was unable to summon the energy to raise his arms.

Gracefully, but with purpose, Laurel lifted her hips to slide him in and out of her womanhood.

Setting aside all of the times before, where she controlled the theme, pace and the intensity of their rendezvous, this time she just needed to make sweet love to Jack. She wanted her body to melt into his.

“I... I...” Jack stammered.

“I know, baby, I know. It’s all right. Release yourself into me.”

Jack felt the wave crash over him, and let out a deep groan.

Laurel watched and felt his rush as they stared into each other’s eyes. Even though she wasn’t looking for a release of her own, she felt the tingle, which grew into a tremor. The radiating warmth that started deep in her pussy grew outward to consume her body the way it always happened with Jack.

It swept over her as Jack, weakly but with all that he had left, wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her close.

The sun was setting as Laurel slid next to Jack, now solidly in dreamland. As she curled herself into his arms, she closed her eyes to meet him in that dream.

Chapter 3

The Beginning

The weeks went by, and Jack grew stronger as his wounds closed and healed, leaving scars that would fade but never completely go away. He also noticed a single white hair in the center of his head that stood in stark contrast to his otherwise dark black mane. Jack was reminded of what a woman had once told him about such things when he was younger.

He wondered if it was more than just blind luck that he was able to survive the tournament.

When he returned to his responsibilities caring for the horses and other livestock on the property, the other servants already knew of the story, which had spread rapidly around the estate. Everyone talked about the contest, including the risks Dame Laurel had taken to regain him, and the mythical power she seemed to wield that had saved his life.

Jack was always well-liked by the others upon arriving several months ago. But, upon the return to his duties, there was an unmistakable deference by his peers. Sometimes the stable boys would call him “Mr. Jack” in a good-natured tease.

Beyond the scars and the newfound status, the changes inside were much deeper and profound. His relationship with Laurel had grown from Dame/servant into a physical relationship where Laurel was free to express her dominant and sometimes dark nature.

What had begun as a dalliance by Laurel with a lowly slave, evolved into an emotional, physical and intellectual commitment to each other… against the social norms; a love affair!

In the events leading up to the contest, Laurel had realized how strongly her feelings had grown for Jack. When she stopped and thought about it, it scared her; scared in a way that, in her mind, a woman in control is never supposed to feel. Thinking about it one day, Laurel had blurted out, “I love him!”

She actually looked around to be sure no one else had heard her.

* * * *

The chain of events that brought Jack to Wildflower, and the two lovers to the tournament, began three short months before his arrival. Laurel had just inherited the estate after the sudden, untimely passing of her father, Nathaniel.

While Nathaniel knew that Wildflower would eventually move to his daughter, they both had hoped the transition would be a long and easy one. Nathanial’s premature death ended that plan, but Laurel clung to the few pearls of wisdom that he shared before he had passed.

He had always told her that she needed to be ever mindful of the entire property. “A lot of people will be dependent on you keeping your focus when it’s you running the place,” he would say. “Not only are you responsible to your customers, but your workers and servants depend on you for their livelihood. Don’t let them down.”

His passing, and her family gone, was a load that Laurel had to bear herself, and it wore on her. She needed a release. Although Alicia was an invaluable help, the final decisions were Laurel’s, and the pressure was beyond intense.

Many customers and suppliers thought they could take advantage of the smart but inexperienced woman who would certainly be overwhelmed in her new position. Laurel carried a mistrust of such unscrupulous types since she was a schoolgirl, when the older boys would try to bully her in the yard.

In Gehenna, ‘taking advantage of’ could mean outright theft, extortion, blackmail, the lot of it… and by force, if the opportunity presented itself. There were no formal police to call. While there were governors and councils, bribery was common, and the courts were often for sale in the land where wealth equaled power.

While her father was widely known as a man of integrity, and he ran an upstanding organization at Wildflower, his passing meant that Laurel would have to make her way in the world from scratch.

Being thrown into the den of thieves as a new businesswoman dealing with outside forces, Laurel had to toughen up quickly.

Many would have collapsed under the stress. Laurel, though, possessed an inner darkness, even as a child. She wasn’t mean. In fact, she was loving to her family, her friends and those who worked at the estate, regardless of their status.

But the inner darkness gave Laurel a rush from being in control.

Some say it started when she learned to ride a horse; the feeling of total control while straddling a wild beast ten times her size.

Others say that her taste for dominance may have started in the stables but had nothing to do with handling horses; but rather, with a boy, Devon Collins. She’d once fancied him until he had played a mean trick on her.

However it came about, Laurel felt the inner darkness she had developed to defend herself as a young girl rise to the surface with a vengeance of its own to protect her in her time of need.

In times of stress, that darkness would creep beyond her business life, seeking its release in the only other place it could... her personal affairs.

Laurel had little experience in developing relationships with men, be they Masters, freemen or slaves. While her beauty was more than alluring to any man who caught her eye, inevitably, her dark side would surface. And it was her dark side that would put a quick end to any budding affair.

With Laurel and many of the men who pursued her, her need to control them physically, mentally and sexually was enough to push them away. For those who persisted, it was a crop, paddle or whip that sent them packing. Laurel never got to fully scratch the itch that was deep inside her.

* * * *

Jack first appeared at the estate with a collection of other servants brought in by a Dom who traded in such chattel. Laurel had eyed him immediately. Even through his dirty, sweat-covered face and three-day growth, he was bright-eyed and handsome. He had a chiseled, muscular body despite a too-slender frame that was surely the result of years of malnutrition. At about six feet tall, he was just right for the lascivious tastes of Laurel’s dark side.

The Dom had intended only to stop by and introduce himself to the new head of the estate before making a delivery in the next county. He already had an agreement with another Lady, the Dame Guinevere, for the five slaves in his possession.

In Gehenna, if an agreement was reached between two estate owners, its terms were golden. With a slave trader, however, cash would always be king. Thus, any deal with such types was always subject to ‘renegotiation’.

While the Lady of the estate was normally reserved, Alicia noticed immediately that Laurel’s attentions were focused solely on the attractive, well-built one.

If this slave could serve as a distraction for all of the stress that Laurel is under, even for a little while, all the better, thought Alicia.

Even in his rough state, he was more than easy on the eyes, Alicia couldn’t deny. The objective was to liberate the trader of the slave that stirred Laurel’s interest.

Alicia, being Laurel’s right hand on the estate, would negotiate with the Dom. She pulled the trader aside to ascertain the slave’s availability. Realizing the interest Jack had apparently stirred at Wildflower, and what he might fetch from the Lady Guinevere, the trader was unwilling to sell just Jack; it would have to be an all-or-nothing deal.

Further, the Dom indicated that any wrath from Guinevere would not be borne by him.

By law, slaves were permitted no possessions. In keeping with the law, there were two transactions when buying slaves; one for the slaves, and one for their clothes. The clothes Jack wore were torn and filthy.

Laurel whispered to Alicia before the sale. Alicia spoke quietly to the Dom, and then sent one of the estate’s workers on a quick errand.

The Dom motioned the four other servants over to Alicia, then spoke to Jack. “I have agreed to transfer you to the Lady. The clothes you are wearing shall remain with me.”

Growing up as a slave, Jack knew his place all too well. In front of everyone, Jack sullenly obeyed, removing every last stitch. Standing naked, Jack handed his clothes to the Dom.

Alicia’s servant returned with a change of clothes, and Jack hurriedly put them on.

Laurel, more than satisfied with what she saw, nodded her approval to Alicia, who overpaid the Dom for the lot to ensure that Jack would find a spot on the property.

* * * *

The plenty of murmurings regarding pure lust on Laurel’s part, were quickly dispelled by Jack’s ability to work with the animals. It didn’t mean that Laurel’s actions to buy Jack were based on any prescience regarding his work with the livestock.

Like many of the other women who found themselves in Laurel’s position of privilege, Laurel had no reservations with regard to how she would use Jack outside of his duties in the pens.

And lust for him she did.

“Please summon the new servant to my chambers, Alicia.”

“Yes, Dame Laurel.”

When Jack got the call, after three days of service, he had thought that he had done something wrong. The water from the stable well was cloudy and filled with sand and silt, and he knew the contaminated water had made the horses sick. He didn’t think drawing water from the house well would be a problem.

“You wanted to see me, Miss, ah... Lady, La–”

“You may address me as Lady or Dame Laurel.”

“Sorry, ma’am… I mean, sorry, Lady, uh, Dame Laurel.”

Laurel stifled a smile over his tongue-tied nervousness. “Haven’t you cleaned up yet? It’s way past supper.”

“Sorry, Dame Laurel, I was just laying out the chores for tomorrow.”

“Very well. There’s a basin and sponge in the other room. Clean yourself up and come back to me.”

“But ma’am… Dame Laurel, I...”

“Don’t you know why you’re here?” Laurel asked petulantly.

Jack, who barely raised his eyes to meet her face, was surprised, but he dared not show it. Still, he was mesmerized by her lovely features.

Although he knew better than to stare, Jack didn’t even allow himself to think that he could be a consort for such an eminently eligible Lady. While he was aware that such indiscretions occurred on private estates, Jack never dwelled upon such things. But he did occasionally glance at her while he was supposed to be working.

Jack washed up as he was told. His field clothes, still filthy from the day’s work, lay in a pile on the floor. He knew better than to wrap a small towel around himself, and he searched for anything he could put on that wasn’t going to get him horsewhipped. He heard a noise coming from the doorway. It was Laurel.

“I was just looking for a cloth to–”

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