Desert Slave
In the nation of Simadeka, was the large, yet relatively unknown, city of Tallorn. It was a massively walled city that tried to defy the concept of might makes right in the desert nation. It was located in a green chasm that was sunken into the desert floor. Underground springs and rivers let the city live rich with water and life. At the same time, it was hidden from outsiders by the massive barriers of sand and stone. Isolated, and self sufficient, the city thrived well, based on agriculture abilities other desert cities simply didn't have. The city was so ripe to support life that the city walls couldn't even contain all the inhabitants. Houses and markets formed outside the walls, making something like a smaller city around the outside. Such a rich environment flourishes in the desolate wastes of the sands, earning an affectionate nickname "The Desert Flower." It was such a desirable, and hidden place, that it was actually considered a legend to most people who didn't live there. Often people died, wandering the desert trying to find it. The only people who ever went and left Tallorn were merchants, who were needed to trade goods from other desert cities that this isolated one didn't deal with. These traveling markets were basically the only way the legend of "The Desert Flower" continued. The merchants even had the exotic spices to prove its existence. Usually only the finest wears and products were allowed to be a part of these markets, as the travel to the city was hard, and there was only room for so much merchandise. The city attracted all types of people and creatures from all over the desert with the promise of an oasis paradise. The promises weren't false in any way either. Virtually everyone who managed to successfully migrate to the mystical place never wanted to leave. There was more than enough of everything to keep everyone's needs met, and it was truly a paradise, especially for those who were used to living a desert life. The ruler of this city was given it as a gift from her father, back when he was the ruler of Simadeka. After the title was passed onto the next successful challenger of his power, Tallorn was just forgotten. She was known as Ashrafia Tallorn, and she was really "The Desert Flower" that everyone referred to. She was a jet-black panther, usually seen wearing a fine silk dress with finely carved gold and precious stones adorning it in elaborate decoration. Everything she owned was given to her for various reasons, made up of gifts of affection, appreciation, and often just as a tribute to her. Raising such a magnificent city took a truly magnificent person. Her kindness and love for her subjects were almost the only aspects that could match her beauty. For all these reasons, people happily turned over gifts to her, just wanting to thank her for her kindness and beauty. The finest gift she's received was her palace. It wasn't exceptionally large, compared to the size of many of the palaces and ziggurats build by slaves across the nations. Her subjects built this for her without her command or even her request. Laborers and masons build the structure out of stone, while artisans made every inch of the palace a masterpiece of finely crafted details. Since the populous was from all over, the styles of the design and décor was very rich and diverse, and represented the city very well. It was a perfect centerpiece to the city, aesthetically pleasing, stylistically diverse, and truly a symbol of what can blossom in the wastelands of the desert. Even with all the gifts, and tributes given to her, Ashrafia still purchased her own treasures from the markets as well. Sometimes as gifts to people who were close to her, sometimes just because it caught her eye. Out of respect, and as another form of a gift, the people of Tallorn gave Ashrafia first pick at the markets. She could browse the various stalls and shops that had been setup, without being disturbed by anyone. It was one such occasion when something had especially caught her eye. The merchants had just modified their traveling routes through the cities, and brought new types of merchandise with them. It wasn't specifically meant for Tallorn, but the new wears would certainly be offered to anyone who'd buy. For the first time, slaves had been brought, with the market, to Tallorn. They were dusty, dehydrated, hungry, and physically exhausted from traveling through the desert. Since they were slaves, they weren't offered shade, or as much food or water as, perhaps, they needed. They had all been chained down to posts driven into the ground, and didn't have any energy to so much as look up, let alone struggle. Being such a kind hearted creature Ashrafia was appalled by the sight of the sickly creatures. She confronted slaves' owner, "How can you treat anyone like that? They're living creatures!" The merchant hadn't actually expected to receive any attention at this city, as it had a reputation for being a city of freedom. Her outraged comments had woken him from a quiet sleep, "Hmm? What are you babbling about? I'll have you know we only lose about 20 slaves out of 100 with this market. Most slavers would lose 50. We have a long way to go, and we can't waste resources on them." Obviously, he hadn't quite grasped her point, "How can you keep people chained up, drag them through the desert against their will, and then leave them to bake in the sun while you relax under your cool shade?" Besides merchants, and Ashrafia, there were two other people in the market, her attendant, and the market supervisor. Both these people were closely behind her, and both these people gave the merchant a cold look of disgust, although not for the same reason. The attendant sympathized with the slaves, as she had been one before escaping to Tallorn. The supervisor shook his head, as the slaver was upsetting the woman who could make or break their sales for the city. In an effort to minimize the damages, he chewed out the slaver, even though he didn't have any ethical problem with him. "I'm sorry Princess. Being the supervisor of the entire market, I can't keep track of everything everyone is doing all the time. I accepted him into the market because the next city over has a high demand for slaves, but I had no idea he was such a despicable person. You can be sure that he won't accompany us in future travels." The slaver grunted, but still saw opportunity, "Well, if the madam finds the slaves such an appalling sight, why don't you buy their freedom? I'm sure at least two more will drop off before I can sell them all." A pain in her gut made her wince as the idea of the slaves dying such senseless deaths. Certainly, she would buy all their freedom, but since most of her estate was built from gifts, she didn't have much money for trades. She could only afford one, and threw a pouch of gold coins at the slaver, before looking out into the sea of the slaves. Their shoulders blistered and flaked from the heat of the sun, they coughed, from dry, dust filled lungs, and shivered as they tried to keep enough strength to avoid falling over. The sun heated their iron chains, and their necks and wrists were raw from the burning cuffs. The idea of only being able to save one from the continued existence was heart wrenching for the kind panther. There was one, who managed to lift his head up high enough to return her gaze. Most of the slaves were canine, but this one seemed like a lone feline. An orange, black-striped tabby seemed out of place in the crowd. A slave having enough gall to look up at, what was essentially royalty was bad enough, but the pleading look in his large, golden eyes was too much for her to bear. He seemed like far too of a gentle creature to survive in slavery, and he would be whom she'd free. After she had pointed him out to the slaver, she stormed away from the market, blood still boiling from the enraging scene. It wasn't very often that Ashrafia was angry, but the slaver had successfully brought anger out in her. Her attendant worked to collect the newly purchased slave, and pulled him along quickly to try and catch up with Ashrafia's angered pace. In the state he was in, the slave was more dragged along than guided. He was led to the palace, and the market was opened to the local merchants. In a few hours, it would be opened to the public, but it wasn't really a concern for Ashrafia anymore. Usually she gave a speech to the people, after she browsed the market, explaining the quality of the merchandise. Unfortunately, she was far too upset to be up to the challenge of public address. The people were far too interested in trying to grab an eyeful of the market, to notice the attendant dragging the slave along. Entering the palace, Ashrafia hadn't given the slave a second look She was far too upset to really deal with it now. It almost completely slipped her mind as she went on her way to her room, before her attendant called out, "What shall I do with him ma'am?" She didn't even stop storming out and just called back, "Just clean him, feed him and let him rest." No more information could be exchanged, as the slamming of a door cut Ashrafia away from accessibility. The attendant had been with the Princess since childhood, and knew her well enough to not disturb her while she was in this kind of mood. She was a bit older than Ashrafia, and was purchased by her father when she was just a kitten. Her name was Panya, and she was a gray mouse. Growing up in a royal house, she learned to be elegant and proper, and seemed far more glamorous than any slave ever would be. Being of mouse heritage, she was a bit shorter than most, but still seemed to stand tall with pride. Her clothing was also a fine silk, but she lacked any jewels or gold accessories. It was mainly so that she could better not take attention from Ashrafia. Although her own beauty easily stood out whenever she was without her mistress. Although she was bought as a slave, she was set free by Ashrafia, but chose to stay by her side. Ashrafia was her only friend, and she was the only person who was truly close to the Princess. Living as royalty kept her fairly isolated, and unreachable to most people, and Panya had something of an inside advantage. She loved her mistress, and was happy to be her willing slave. However, to let her free status be known, she was given the title of attendant. For the time being, all she could do was sigh, and look at the slave. Panya tended to the slave as ordered, and led him to the bath. It was filled with cool water, and was normally reserved for Ashrafia and Panya only. However, her orders were to clean the slave, and that's what she would do, even if meant the large, almost pool-like bath would have to be drained and refilled for a slave. It was an irritating task that was only done about once a month, but with the dustiness of this slave, the water would definitely be unsuitable for reuse. Panya released the slave's collar, and removed his shackles. It made her nervous, as she didn't know anything about him, and she was completely alone with him here. Luckily, it seemed that he was far too exhausted to be a violent, as he fell to his knees as soon as she let him go. She turned to the bath, adding various oils and plants to the waters. It was an art of scent crafting that she seemed quite apt at. Panya always tended to her mistress's baths, and made sure that she had a scent that could match her appearance. However, such a soft, and feminine scent wouldn't be appropriate for a male slave, and she gave it more of a spicy, warm feel to it. Once the scent was just right, and the water was ready, she removed her silk dress. It was a bit of a task, as it consisted of elaborate bindings that held it to her. It was another burden of being representative of royalty that Panya had become used to. She removed the silk ties with skilled, practiced fingers, until she stood in front of the tub, completely nude. She folded the dress, and placed it aside, and looked back at the slave, who seemed frozen, his eyes wide and locked on her graceful body. She was really quite a beautiful creature herself, not paling in comparison to Ashrafia at all. Panya body was kept in rather good shape from running around on various errands. Being a creature of fairly high stature, her fur was well kempt, soft and smooth. It wasn't really something she had considered, as she removed her clothes, but now the thoughts of being nude and alone with a male, who watched her so intently, made her blush and feel self conscious. Trying to break the awkward tension, she climbed into the tub, and hid herself under the water. Still feeling a bit embarrassed, she quietly said, "Please, join me." It was typical that she would bathe her mistress, and had intended to do the same with the male, as she was ordered. This was really the first experience she had with a male in such an intimate scenario. Although he wasn't very threatening, it was still a new experience that she wasn't sure how to properly react to. It was the slave's turn to blush, as he now was put on the spot. It was clear that he wasn't a normal slave, as any normal slave would have simply obeyed without any reaction, but he was hesitant. After being bought, his mind had been swirling with questions about his buyer. He was still unsure what she was like, but certainly didn't want to get on her bad side before even meeting her. Opting for obedience over his own shy nature, he removed his own clothes, or rather cloth. He only wore a simple tunic over his body, and an even simpler strip of material wrapped around his waist, reaching his knees. It was held on with a simple rope tied around his waist, and didn't take nearly as much work to remove. It was Panya's turn to get a pleasant eyeful, as the male had to struggle to stand, having nothing to cover him. His body was slightly muscular, although not as much as expected from a slave. He didn't seem malnourished, and looked healthier than most slaves were. It was quite difficult to get a good idea of what the slave was really like, as he was covered in dust, and simply exhausted. He managed to bring himself to the tub, and almost fell in as feel of the water made him relax as soon as he stepped into it. The scents of the oils and various herbs and roots didn't do anything to keep him alert, causing him to drift further into a dreamy state. His fur was dusty, hard and overall messy from the travels and it was Panya's job to fix that. She decided to keep her mind on her job, and try to ignore the fact that she was now nude with a male, and one she found attractive as well. As she would have done with Ashrafia, she sat behind the slave, pulling him back gently so that he would rest against her body. His body wasn't as tough, but still muscular as a normal slave would have been, and his slender frame was even a bit smaller than Ashrafia's was. She could feel his muscles relax as his back pressed against her. The heat she felt from his body was surprising, as he had been sitting out in the sun for days. The cool water would take time to bring him back to normal. Panya's blush returned as she realized that she was dwelling on the feeling of the male's body pressed against her own nude form. Trying to calm herself, she went to work, cleaning the male. Since he was quite dusty from the sands of the desert, her first task would be to clean away the dust, sand and pebbles, and her paws began stroking his fur to rub away the particles. The slave was glad he wasn't facing her, as his face was red, blushing form the feeling of the nude female pressing against his back, and the paws that stroked his body. He hadn't seen a female in a couple years, as he had been traveling with the caravan the whole time. Even before that, his experience with females was limited, since the only ones he knew were also slaves, and quickly got snatched up by the slavers. Now, he was alone in the tub with a remarkable female. Her fur was scented with a lavender perfume, which filled the air as it washed off her and floated along the surface of the water. His nose was flaring, trying to take in the most pleasant scent he had been exposed to, possibly in his life. Her mousy paws continued to caress his fur, smoothing it out along his body. Unconsciously, her strokes were filled with a light sensuality, as she was trying to feel his body while she massaged it. Panya's breaths were shallow, and almost stopped when she heard the slave purr. He was clearly enjoying the attention, as back arched lightly, pushing his chest against her paws as she stroked it. It took a while to get the deepest of the grit out of the cat's fur, but her progression was something they both enjoyed despite their refusal to want to. Her paws had run over his shoulders and arms, cleaning them into their pristine white look once again before she progressed to his torso again. Now she rubbed his abdomen, and grew a bit nervous, as she knew worried about what would happen when she got lower. Feeling the quiver of her body and paws, the slave sat up to pull away from her. Over the time of being caressed and massaged by the beautiful mouse, he wasn't able to hide his arousal, and his sheath had swollen quite a bit. For that reason as well, he sat with his back to her, while he cleaned his own lower regions. Panya was relieved, and slightly disappointed at the same time. In her service with her mistress, she really hadn't been exposed to very much sexual experience of her own. In fact, this was the most intimate she'd been with a male, even though she had sexual experience, it was more biological relief, whereas this was much more sensual. Hir own nude sex was now quite heated and aroused, as she honestly wanted more of the male. Under the pretense of continuing her duties, she moved toward him, stroking the fur on his back to clean it. It wasn't long before she abandoned the pretense, and slid her paws along his waist, and lower to his front. She massaged his sheath, making her intentions more than clear as she massaged his sensitive malehood. It was all the encouragement that the slave needed to turn around and face the girl. The raw, erotic need of the male was now released as she opened the floodgates. He almost pounced her as he moved in, pressing his body against hers, and wrapping his arms around her waist. His lips locked against hers in a raw, passionate kiss. She more than gladly returned the kiss, enclosing their lips together in a tight embrace.His paws massaged her sides, while his hips pushed between her thighs. Panya only encouraged him further, spreading her thighs open to his advances. Her weight was almost non-existent in the water, letting the slave better hold her in position. The water was shallow enough for him to kneel comfortably, with her hips resting on his thighs. The lightest touch of his malehood to her sweet slit was enough to destroy any inhibitions he had left. His hips pushed forward, filling her tight, mouse petals with his solid shaft. She immediately let out a moan, which echoed throughout the bath hall, reflecting her lust perfectly. His own lust was focused completely in his body's reaction. His paws held her hips, and pulled her against his as he thrust into her. The fury of his pulsing thrusts was surprising, given his size. Her entire body shook with the force of his pelvis crashing against hers. His purring escalated to lustful growls, truly exposing his animalistic side. Panya's head was thrown back as her ecstasy grew. Her moans streamed out as freely as her breaths, as the pleasure that filled her affected every inch of her body. Her pleasure reflected itself into the cat, making his efforts double as his desire for her burned deeply inside him. The intensity of their lust sent the water in the tub crashing violently against the edges as it rippled with a rhythm that matched the slave's furious pace. The power of his thrusts shook Panya, sending her into blind pleasure, as she cried out with the thunderous climax she hit. Her body tensed hard, gripping his shaft within her as her orgasm played out. The feel of her inner folds clamping against his sensitive malehood was too much for him, triggering his own volcanic eruption. His paws gripped her thighs, pulling hips as tightly against his as he could. The two of them roared with the intense pleasure that resonated in the bath hall. The room shook, as though it itself was moved to a rumbling climax.