Slave Trade - Sorra
Slave Trade
Sorra
copyright 2013 comidacomida
Sidney followed the guard through the confusing maze of hallways as he was led back to the
gladiator holding area. The armored feline had set a leisurely pace, which suited the fox just
fine since he walked gingerly; he moved with an uneven gait, taking small, measured steps to
avoid the pain a full stride brought to his backside.
The lynx was not Sidney's original guide, most likely because the first guard was probably
already in bed. The Slave Master didn't have any time piece but he knew it was late, and would
have yawned if his jaw weren't so sore. Between his tail hole and his muzzle, Sidney was in pain
from end-to-end, but he maintained his practiced posture. Too clearly, the fox remembered one of
Lord Bulhue's first rules: a slave showing pain invited only more. He was not in the hippo's
stables any longer, but he couldn't help but feel a too-strong familiarity within Lord Levid's
manor.
The trip back to the holding area was more convoluted and confusing than the trip from the dining
area, yet his guide had no hesitation in knowing the route. The fox was moving too slow to pause
at any intersection, but he realized that the white, wooden panels with script on them likely
helped the guard's navigation. It was during one such quick examination of a sign that Sidney
realized the guard had drawn further away from him, and had actually stopped and was looking back
at him, "You're slowing down." the lynx stated.
Sidney nodded, and took a step to follow, then paused when his knee gave out and he stumbled
forward. The guard quickly moved toward him and caught the fox before he fell to the ground.
Without a word, the lynx hefted him off the floor then picked him up, carrying him in both arms.
"I..." the Slave Master ventured, feeling both mortified and embarrassed.
"You haven't eaten, and you haven't slept." the guard noted flatly, "And you just finished
servicing the King's pet gladiator." the lynx spoke to him without looking at him, carrying him
down the hall with a strong degree of indifference, "Lord Hector knows, and said to make sure you
got back to the holding area safely."
Sidney felt a faint thrill run through him, a sense of warmth that a portion of his master's
attention was focused on him. That sensation slowly turned icy however when he started to second
guess the reason. Sidney had failed his Master and Uraou... he had been sent away to service a
slave, which was as much of an indication that he'd never have a chance to be Lord Hector's
personal slave-- if Lord Levid burned a fur brush after it was used by a slave, what was the
implication for him? He continued to mull over the thoughts until his guide came to a stop
outside a door that Sidney found familiar.
"Lord Hector." the lynx spoke. Sidney was readily aware that the door was not one that led to
his master's quarters, "I have your slave." at which point the lynx set him against the wall and
opened the door.
"Good." came the stag's beautiful voice from within, fortifying the fox's stamina and allowing
him to stand on his own. The lynx quickly raised a paw, catching a small leather pouch which
clinked out with the sound of coin when it hit his palm, "Now leave us." Lord Hector added.
"My lord." the lynx bowed, then glanced to Sidney, "Go." and he motioned to the doorway as he
stepped back, "I'm done carrying you." and, with that as a farewell, the guard left.
Sidney straightened his shoulders anew and, placing his paw on the door frame for balance,
gingerly led himself into the holding area, closing the door after he entered. It took a moment
for his eyes to adjust to the darkened room which was lit by three candles perched atop a silver
candelabra situated on an overturned wooden box. Seated on one side of the box was Lord Hector
and, at the other, was Maern; both were looking at him. The horse slowly stood, one ear up and
the other slightly tilted to the side as Maern gazed at him appraisingly.
"I'm back, Master." Sidney offered, and Maern moved over to support him, bringing him to the
crate-turned-table. The fox paused, noticing a bottle beside the crate, and a tin mug in the
stag's grasp. Without an answer, Lord Hector motioned for him to take a spot at one side of the
wooden box; Sidney knelt obediently, not eager to sit.
"Lord Levid has announced that another of my gladiators will be fighting again tomorrow." the
stag stated, finishing off the contents of his mug before pouring himself another. Maern made a
simple comment once Sidney was situated and Lord Hector shook his head, "I am not getting drunk,
I--" then he paused and spoke to the stallion in Vensian then looked to Sidney, "I am
supplementing my thoughts with alcohol."
Sidney could recall numerous times when Lord Bulhue became highly intoxicated and the fox hadn't
liked any of them. The thought of Lord Hector inebriated was not something the Slave Master
looked forward to. When the stag set the mug down in front of HIM, however, Sidney wasn't sure
the situation was much improved, "Go ahead, Sidney." the stag offered, "I know slaves do not
often get to drink, but I am fairly certain you could use it." and, before the fox answered, Lord
Hector had another mug out and filled it up, passing it to Maern. "Min Sarul." the stag stated
formally.
"Min Sarul." Maern responded in kind, and downed the entire drink with two quick gulps. Both
then looked to Sidney, who glanced down at the mug. Lifting it to his muzzle, he sniffed
tentatively and winced, relating the scent far too closely to Lord Bulhue's breath. Glancing
once more to Lord Hector, the fox nodded obediently, and drank deeply... for all of a half second
until he cough-choked most of it back into the metal cup. Wheezing, Sidney set the mug back
down, huffing fresh air into his burning lungs; it felt cold in his seared his throat, but each
breath was icy relief after the fire of the drink.
"You amaze me sometimes, Sidney." Lord Hector spoke, refilling Maern's mug. The comment was
decidedly a form of positive acknowledgment, but the fox was so surprised at it that he didn't
have a response. At his silence, the stag continued, "You have done far better than anyone else
has expect of you. I thought, in time, you would grow into the position and do well, but your
progress has surpassed my expectations."
"I..." Sidney's pain practically disappeared at the blatant praise, "T-thank you, Master."
"What is happening here isn't your fault, Sidney." Lord Hector swirled the drink around in his
mug; despite the scent of alcohol in the air, the fox realized that very little was actually
coming from the stag, "A lot of it is mine."
Sidney couldn't stop his ears from raising in surprise, and he was distracted enough that he
actually took another swig from his cup; the coughing wasn't quite as bad, and he managed to
choke out, "I shouldn't have failed you, Master."
"You were not set up for success, Sidney... none of us were." Lord Hector sipped lightly from his
mug, "Lord Levid saw to that... so... no... you are NOT responsible for this failure." the stag
refilled Maern's mug one more time before corking the bottle, "and I think it is about time that
we stop this losing streak."
"Yes, Master." Sidney acknowledged, sobered by the combination of encouragement and admonishment,
"Of course, Master."
"Maern will be fighting tomorrow." the stag noted, motioning to the stallion.
"Yes, Master." the fox affirmed.
"I had honestly thought that he would have volunteered today... so this was more my fault than it
was yours, Sidney." Lord Hector admitted.
The familiar tone his master took with him was a surprise, which was why Sidney didn't have the
wherewithal to keep the words from coming out of his muzzle, "I don't understand, Master."
Lord Hector nodded sagely at that, his antlers casting long-reaching shadows across the far wall
in the flickering candlelight. The stag glanced toward Maern, "Hi yana ru vedun?" he inquired of
the stallion.
Maern nodded simply and responded in Vensian , "Iya, Lord Heck-tur." the horse then turned to
regard Sidney, "My Stor-ee." he sounded out in Prossian.
Lord Hector watched the exchange, but said nothing. Instead, he slid his mug across the crate to
let Maern finish it as turned to address Sidney, "Sidney... have you ever heard the Vensian word
'Sorra'?
Sidney thought back to the last time he'd heard the word, which was far back in his past. When
he was fairly new to slavery one of the pit hyenas had threatened one of his fellows with the
promise of sending him to a witch for a Sorra, but it made no sense to him back then, nor did he
completely understand what Lord Hector meant, "I heard the word once, Lord Hector, but I don't
know what it means." the fox pushed the still half-full mug away from himself on the table. The
stag patiently picked it up and poured it into Maern's now-empty one.
Sidney had no idea how the stallion was able to down the drinks like he did. Watching Maern lift
the cup and knock it back with a single go instilled a sense of awe in the fox. He recalled
having heard in the past that drinking, like many other things took a degree of practice; one of
the kinder courtiers he'd known in their mutual employ to Lord Bulhue once likened it to the
rougher kind of sex-- you had to tolerate it numerous times before it stopped hurting. Later
that night, the man had been given Sidney for the evening as a gift from Lord Bulhue, and, ever-
after, Sidney didn't consider the courtier quite so kind.
"...which is why he did not offer to fight yesterday." Lord Hector finished his explanation.
Sidney lowered his head, putting his face in the palm of his paw, berating his own meandering
attention. The stag sat still, watching the fox, who slowly straightened back up, wincing as too
much of his weight was transferred to his rump. "Do you have any questions, Sidney?"
One came to the fox's mind that wouldn't give away his lack of focus, "How can Maern fight
tomorrow, Master?"
The stag nodded in consideration, "That is what I was attempting to explain." he took a moment,
face tweaked in thought before he answered, "The easiest way to conform with Maern's Sorra is for
you to order him to fight."
The suggestion engulfed Sidney's heart in an icy grip, "But... what if he loses, Master?"
The far corner of Lord Hector's muzzle rose slightly in a smirk, "His Sorra suggests that he
won't."
"I..." the fox fidgeted, wincing as his tail twitched against the ground, "Yes, Master."
The stag observed the fox a moment and, Sidney realized, in his infinite wisdom, understood why
the Slave Master didn't comprehend and then, in his infinite compassion, was generous enough to
reiterate, "Maern was given a Sorra, which is a combination of a curse and a fortune... and he
was told that he would win every battle he had to fight, but would lose every battle he chose to
fight." Lord Hector laced his fingers together on the table, "So he could not volunteer to fight
for you and expect to win.... do you understand?"
Sidney nodded slightly, wondering how much information he missed by having his master repeat
himself. He decided that Lord Hector's question of understanding permitted him to ask a
question, "Maern was told he'd always win when he HAD to fight, but whenever he chose to fight
he'd lose?"
"Correct." Lord Hector confirmed, standing, and dusting off his slacks and putting on his dinner
coat, which had been resting against the far side of the crate; the fine livery did not suit the
holding area, making the stag look even more out-of-place than he already was.
Sidney's ear twitched s a thought came to mind, "Master... what happens if Maern chooses to fight
a battle he has to win?"
The stag chuckled at that and reached out to pat Sidney on the head, "I would assume any fight
that HAD to be won would not present a choice to Maern, Sidney... that is the way Vensian honor
works." he picked a piece of hay off of his dinner coat, "Does that make things any clearer, or
do you have another question?" Lord Hector regarded him with what almost seemed to the fox to be
a degree of fondness.
Pushing the giddiness aside, Sidney ordered himself to focus, "Maern will fight if I order him
to?"
"Yes." Lord Hector confirmed, "and you will order him to tomorrow."
"And he will win?" Sidney asked desperately.
"So long as he does not have a choice in the matter, yes." Lord Hector walked to the door, "The
Vensian Sorras are a very powerful kind of fortune telling... some even call them a curse."
"Sorra an Sorra." Maern attested.
Lord Hector nodded to the stallion then looked back to Sidney, "Fate be fate." he translated,
"Vensians see Sorras as unwanted. Almost every Sorra is a double-sided blade... you find out
something about the future, but knowing ahead of time doesn't mean it will change anything, so
you have the foresight, but not the control."
"Like knowing you will always win when you have to but always lose any other time?" Sidney
inquired of his Master, thinking back to the first time he had seen Maern fighting with the
slavers at the auction block, "It sounds like a Sorra is a painful thing to have to live with,
Master."
Lord Hector nodded, eyes gazing off into the distance, "Yes... yes it is."
The comment caught Sidney as strange, and the haunted look that crossed his master's face for a
split second was enough to give the fox pause, but he dared not speak of it. Instead, Sidney
quickly gathered up the crate, setting it on its correct side as he cleaned up after the
unofficial gathering; he knew it would not be propper for a Lord to visit the holding area and he
had no desire for Lord Hector to lose any further face.
"Tell Maern to go to bed..." the stag motioned to the far side of the holding area where the soft
snores of the others identified their location despite the darkness, "Dorias and Choel are
already asleep and he needs his sleep for tomorrow."
"Yes, Master."
"I will let the guards know that you are to join me in my quarters once you are done." the stag
announced, heading out of the room. Sidney choked on his tongue, losing the opportunity to
fumble his way through a question he didn't have a chance to formulate.
Other than taking a handful of minutes to explain to Maern it was bed time, the fox checked in on
Dorias and Choel. The yak, Sidney discovered, was not actually asleep, and had heard a good
amount of the conversation. Although Dorias had plenty to discuss about a number of topics, the
slave master instead bid him go to sleep and that they would discuss it in the morning. As a
parting farewell, the older slave noted, "If Lord 'ector wants ye in 'is room, it's t'speak with
ye, Sir. 'e trusts ye... an' that's a good thing."
Sidney smiled slightly at that, and added, "Of course it's to talk with me."
"JUST talk." Dorias clarified. Despite himself, Sidney couldn't help but feel a little depressed
about the yak's observation, but he bid him a good night and showed himself out. The guard
outside, true to Lord Hector's word, showed the fox directly to his chambers, and stood by the
door as Sidney entered after being granted audience.
Lord Hector's room was exactly as the Slave Master remembered it, but his attention to the
chambers was overshadowed by the presence of the stag. "Hello, Sidney." his master was seated in
an armchair off to the side of the bed, a crystal decanter of amber liquid situated on the oak
end table to his left and an intricately shaped tumbler in his hand. Lord Hector was dressed in
a simple, red silk robe tied closed around his waist; a hint of his master's lush, silvery fur
stuck out past the cloth from just below his neck.
"I'm here, Master." Sidney fought his active mind to avoid fantasizing about running his fingers
through the stag's thick chest fur. He avoided thinking about the feel of Lord Hector's fur
against his paw pads, steadying his Master as he knelt before the stag, muzzle pressed fully
against his groin while his tongue--
"I wish to talk to you about your past service as a personal slave..." Lord Hector stated,
swirling the drink around in his glass, the sound of ice clinking faintly against the crystal
before the stag stopped, and took another sip.
Sidney licked his muzzle, "Yes, Master." his head was spinning with more dizziness than the
earlier drink alone could have managed.
Lord Hector set the glass down on the table beside the decanter, "You are going to spend the
night here, sleeping with me."
With as hard as it was to formulate a response, it felt to the fox that his tongue just increased
three times in size... but that was nothing compared to other parts of him. "Master?" he managed
to wheeze.
Lord Hector stood, and moved to sit down on the bed, "I plan on Lord Levid hearing of your trip
here tonight, and I want him to know that I don't think any less of you for having serviced
Baron."
"Yes, Master." Sidney nodded his head vigorously, "How would you like me to--" the tightness in
his throat cut his words off, but he managed to eagerly push out the next words, albeit, at a
much higher octave, "--serve you?"
"You can serve me by being comfortable." the stag answered, patting the bed, "You will be
sleeping in my chambers tonight so you can rest well."
Sidney was confused, so confused that the question escaped him, "Rest?... Master?"
"Yes, Sidney... rest." the stag confirmed.
The fox faltered at that, his tongue (and other parts) deflating, "Would you like me to--"
"I am sorry, Sidney," the stag shook his head, "I do not require the services of a personal
slave... I simply wish Lord Levid to realize that he should spend less time trying to 'break my
toys'."
The fox's ears lowered and, despite the pain, his tail tucked, "Master... did I do..." he
swallowed, "have I... displeased you?"
Lord Hector waved the Slave Master over and patted the bed by his side. Sidney sat down, wincing
as he did so, and the stag pulled him closer, leaning the fox's head on his shoulder as he
wrapped an arm around him, and softly stroked the top of his head, "You have not displeased me,
Sidney... if anything, you have continued to surpass my expectations."
"Would you like me to exceed more of them, Master?" the fox crooned, sliding his paw down against
the stag's thigh. It was a very forward statement, one very unseemly for any slave other than a
pleasure slave to even think to attempt. In any other circumstance Sidney's heart would have
likely stopped from the sheer fear of even THINKING about it but, between his master's proximity,
openness, and likely from the drinks, the fox had moved past feeble coyness.
Lord Hector patiently reached down and gripped Sidney's wrist, taking the fox's paw off of his
thigh, "No, I would not." the stag stated coldly, and stood up. He walked half way across the
room with his back to Sidney, letting out a deep sigh. Sidney watched his Master, feeling
stunned, hurt, and irrevocably aghast-- what had he just done?!?! Lord Hector raised an arm,
rubbing behind his antlers, "I have a Sorra as well, Sidney."
The Slave Master wasn't exactly sure how to respond to the comment, so he did not. Rather, he
sat there quietly as Lord Hector slowly about-faced and walked back, taking one of Sidney's paws
in his hands. "It has caused me shame and pain. It has cost me the love and respect of my wife.
I was sent away by my clan... and nobody else in this world aside from the Soraan-- the Fate
Caster who told it to me-- knows of it."
Sidney faltered at that, the closeness of his master, the stag's grip on his paw, and the intense
gaze of the Lord Hector's eyes, "Yes, Master." the fox acknowledged, his heart beating a mile a
minute as he realized that, to the exclusion of all else, Lord Hector had chosen him for
something... special.... unique... personal. For Sidney, it was even better than having the
chance to pleasure his Master... almost better... a reasonable substitute... an acceptable-
though-distant second-place.
"I was told that the next person with whom I..." the stag faltered for a moment as if searching
for the right words, "...share pleasure... will die... horribly... in a most gruesome way." Lord
Hector's eyes looked away as his ears reddened.
Sidney swallowed around the tightness in his throat, "Die?" he wheezed.
"Yes." Lord Hector confirmed, "Horribly."
The fox was barely able to squeak the word, "How?"
The stag shook his head, "I did not find out... the Sorraan didn't say, so it was not part of the
Sorra... but I do not want to be responsible for someone's death like that."
A flash of decision struck the fox with more certainty than he had ever felt, "I will, Master..."
he stood, "I will die for you."
"Not that way, you won't." Lord Hector stated as clearly as any order, and he forestalled any
further argument with, "and that is FINAL." the stag sighed, sitting back down on the bed beside
him.
"Yes, Master." Sidney acknowledged forlornly. He felt marginally better knowing that it was not
his own fault for the stag not making use of his services, but the knowledge that he never would
due to the Vensian curse was not heartening.
"Some Sorra are clearer than others, and some less distinct." Lord Hector continued, "Some follow
the recipient around for the rest of their life while others continue on until the terms come to
pass."
"And yours will go on forever?" the fox asked.
The stag shook his head, "No." he stated, "At some point I will slip up, or give-in, or fail to
stop myself." he smoothed out the hem on one sleeve of his robe, "The Sorra is a foretelling of
the future-- it WILL happen."
"And then you will be free." Sidney offered optimistically.
"At a very high price." Lord Hector pointed out, "I do not know how my lover will die, and I do
not know enough about what may cause it." the stag shook his head scornfully, "I have not been
with anyone in over a decade..." and he followed it up with knocking the decanter over with a
swipe of his arm, "My wife left me when I would not touch her... I cannot seek physical comfort
in another and I haven't even been able to fulfill my needs myself..."
Sidney saw the reasoning quickly, "If you do, there's no way of telling if it's YOU who dies
horribly..." the fox didn't much like the sound of a Sorra to begin with, but he found himself
liking it less and less.
"Exactly." the stag nodded, lowering his head as he rested his hands on his knees.
Another line of thought suddenly connected in the fox's mind, "Then... the Sardassi... you have
it... for you."
Lord Hector nodded somberly, "It works well enough for a number of purposes, but yes, Sidney...
celibacy never sat well with me... even so, I can NOT take any chances that, like you said, I may
end up condemning myself to a most unpleasant death." even in unveiling that knowledge, the Slave
Master admired the way the stag maintained his poise.
Considering ten years of use, Sidney paused. "But... the Sardassi is...." the fox faltered,
unable to find the right word to describe his own experience with the device.
"I know." the stag closed his eyes with a sigh, "But I do not have a lot of options that I would
consider acceptable, Sidney... and YOU are the only other person alive who knows this about me."
he reached out and rested a hand on the fox's arm, "I do not doubt that you will be capable of
respecting my privacy in this matter."
"I would rather die than forsake your trust, Master." Sidney noted without the slightest
hesitation.
"Thank you, Sidney." the stag ruffled the fur atop his head anew, "I knew I was not wrong in
placing you in my confidence." and, with that, the stag leaned over and blew out the candles on
the night stand. With only a small candle still burning on the desk, the room grew even darker,
"And now, I think it is about time to consider sleep for the night."
"I..." the fox gazed around, "I will sleep on the rug by the desk if you are not bothered with me
there, Master."
"Nonsense." the stag stated calmly, pulling back the covers of the bed, "I said you would be
sleeping with me, and so you will do just that." and Lord Hector slid into bed, pulling the fine
linens up around him.
"In your BED, Master?" the fox's voice cracked on the fourth word.
"Of course not..." the stag wore a very wide grin, "In one of Lord Levid's, of course."
"Yes, Master." Sidney acknowledged, voice lowering down the moment he saw Lord Hector disrobe
beneath the bedding. The fox's teeth began to chatter as he neared the bed; he bit his tongue to
silence them. Crawling up onto the end of the bed, the Slave Master laid down across its width,
as if he were an obedient hound curling up at his master's feet.
"Sidney..." Lord Hector called from further up the bed, "you may be my slave, but that does not
make you a pet... come up here and sleep as is proper." the stag patted at the mattress beside
him.
"Yes, Master." the fox squeaked. With fur standing on end, Sidney courted death, climbing under
the blankets, puffed up with unabashed euphoria as he found himself laying beside the stag,
feeling Lord Hector's breath against his back. His heartbeat picked up when his master slid
closer, wrapping an arm around the fox's side, "Master... I..."
"I prefer women to men, Sidney," the stag admitted, "but that does not mean I cannot appreciate a
warm body laying beside me."
The slave master shivered all over when Lord Hector pressed his entire naked body against the
fox's back. He WAS courting disaster, he knew, but there was no way he could avoid being there
for the stag, absorbed in his master's scent. At that moment, even though Sidney knew what was
coming, if Lord Hector would have so much as hinted that he would have liked to have taken him
right then and there, the fox would have been unable to say no.
As it was, the simple sensation of his master's perfect body pressed up against his back, the
warm exhale on his neck, and the too-present sensation of the stag's very sufficient flesh caught
between them, Sidney couldn't fight his tail from slowly veering off to the side. The fox
whimpered faintly, entire body shivering. He fought back a strangled cry of alarm mixed with
orgasmic bliss as his erect flesh coated the inside of his loin cloth with his seed. Sidney
shivered for many moments as his second ejaculation of the night turned him into jelly in Lord
Hector's arms, but, more so, the fear that he was going to die a most horrible death.
"Shh..." the stag noted into his ear, "Everything is fine, Sidney..."
"But... I.... the... the curse...."
Lord Hector chuckled softly, "You're safe from the Sorra... this isn't enough to hurt you."
Though the fox continued shivering, it wasn't as much from fear, "I... I am?" he paused, "It...
it isn't?"
"Well... during my inspection of you the first night in the stables you didn't die, now did you?"
his master's patient voice still held a strong amount of mirth in it. Several seconds passed
before Sidney recalled what the event the stag mentioned, and his ears reddened immediately for
it.
"I... didn't know you noticed, Master." the fox admitted shamefully.
"I told you, I have a very good sense of smell." Lord Hector replied, and Sidney froze
immediately when he felt the stag's hands go to the rope holding Sidney's loin cloth on. He
remained stock-still as his master removed it, and laid it down onto the mattress beside him.
"There." Lord Hector stated with certainty.
Sidney's thoughts went immediately to good pleasure slave etiquette and he spoke softly, "The
bed...?"
He felt the quirking smirk in Lord Hector's muzzle as it lay against his cheek, "Will probably
have to be burned as well... but I plan on making Lord Levid know that I handle my own slaves as
I see fit."
Etiquette or not, Sidney could not bring himself to object.