This is a short excerpt from a longer text about a girl who finds herself enslaved. I don't know why I choose this part but it seemed like a good one. The whole story is too long for one entry. Perhaps, I should put it up as more than one part.
I was led into a room lit by candles and lamps hanging from the walls. It was a nice room with carpets on the floor and some cushions at one end around a low table. A slave girl was standing to one side carrying a tray with glasses and a tea pot. She was magnificent. She was clad only in a kind of breechcloth with a glimmering golden chain around her hips, way below her navel. From this chain hung a long thin red silken cloth at the front. It was fairly narrow and covered only her sex although I saw that it continued between her legs and hung down behind her as well. She had a golden arm ring and a thin necklace. Her hair was arranged with pearls and gold. She was blond and tall and extremely beautiful. She had round and proud breasts that were not heavy but far larger than mine. Her rosy nipples were erect and she stood like a statue.
I was placed on my knees in the middle of the room and although I spread my legs wide the guard was not satisfied until he had gently kicked them further apart. I was completely opened up as I sat and I envied the other slave her clothes.
I lowered my gaze as the guards left the room and when I was alone with the girl I dared look at her again. She ignored me but I could not stop admiring her. She was fantastic. I knew she was a slave but she looked so proud, so beautiful. Her body was perfect in every sense. Her proud breasts looked perfect on her slim and tall body.
At last two men came in. One was the old man that had received me the first day and the other was a fairly fat man that was far younger. He was 40, maybe 50, years old and had eaten too much good food. He wasn't enormous but still you could call him fat. He was dressed in a red and golden robe and had a kind of elaborate turban on his head. He looked like a merchant or a landlord of a wealthy tavern.
He placed his body on the cushions and the old man sat down cross legged by his side. The old man signalled for the slave girl to serve the tea. She obliged with very sensuous and graceful movements. She was the perfect girl in every sense and I couldn't understand what I was doing there. I was nothing compared to her, although I knew I was the one they had come to discuss.
I lowered my gaze as I knew was expected of a slave girl. I knew very little about how slaves were to conduct themselves but I wanted to appear obedient knowing that I would most probably be punished if I was not. I didn't want to be punished. I had seen slave girls taste the whip.
The two men proceeded to talk in a friendly way as I sat there. They completely ignored me as they had their tea. They talked about politics and commerce and exchanged news. I heard and understood what they were talking about but the information seemed to mean nothing to me. Four weeks ago I would have been eager to listen and learn but now I belonged to another world. The things the men talked about was for free persons not for slaves.
Suddenly the old man addressed me. He called me slave but something in his voice told me he meant me rather than the beautiful girl standing in the corner. I felt that if he had called for her he would have said something far more delicate and soft. I was an untrained girl and needed to be addressed in a stern voice.
I looked up and saw the old man wave me forward. I rose to my feet and hurried forward. He stopped me with his hand and I stood still. I wondered if I should kneel but he seemed pleased with having me there, standing.
'So this is the slave?' the fat man said.
'Yes, she is the one,' the old man answered.
'She is very young.'