Just a Story

By:  Callisto Wolf


Disclaimer:  This is an Uber story.  Xena and Gabrielle do not belong to me.  They belong to MCA/Universal and Ren. Pictures.  I am not claiming them as mine.  Just borrowing their likeness.


Violence:  There is violence.  Nothing too graphic.  In other words, nothing you wouldn’t see on T.V.


Love/Sex Disclaimer:  This story depicts a relationship between two women.  One the master, the other the slave.  There is no graphic sex.  Just mild sex.


Feedback:  Please send tons to CallistoWolf@hotmail.com



I’ve grown accustom to my new life here.  In all actuality it’s not a very bad life.  I get three meals a day, and plenty of rest.  So what if I’m considered a slave.  I don’t hate my master, to tell the truth I’ve grown quite fond of her.  And I know in my heart she’s fond of me too, even though she refuses to admit it. I know she can’t admit it; it’s against her station.  Things come between us all to frequently.  My inability to speak one of the most common problems.  I secretly despise the other Nobles; they twist my masters thinking to their way.


After she found me, we settled into a comfortable routine, almost dissolving titles away.  Some nights, after I have cleared the evening meal away, we sit in the foyer.  My master seated in her favorite chair, while I sit myself at her right side on the floor.  She would sit quietly, drinking her mead idle, not paying it much heed.  I usually took this time to catch up on the sewing or write fanciful tales that my master so enjoyed.


When her mead was nearly finished, she’d ask me some little question or inquiry usually about how my day was.  On rare occasions she’d tell me what she planned to do to me that night, causing me to blush.  She had begun learning my gestures soon after she discovered I was mute.  I sign to her, sometimes having to write what she doesn’t understand.  She told me once, during one of these “talks”, that she was very grateful I could hear and understand her as perfectly as a normal person could.  Glad that the only thing wrong with me was that I couldn’t speak.


The Nobles would come sometimes alone, sometimes with one of their own slaves.  I never really was able to talk to these visiting slaves.  Sure they would start a conversation with me but stop after realizing that I couldn’t speak.  I was without friends, except for my master.




A Noble came by today bringing her slave in with her.  These Nobles only pay my master visits to show off before her.  When I first arrived here I thought my master was of a higher rank than she undoubtedly is.  I assume she is a lower ranking Noble than the ones that visit.


These Nobles bring their slaves mainly to have sport with us, as if we were lowly dogs in a ring.  I guess that’s how they view their slaves.  Just mere dogs.  I dreaded these humiliating contests.  I try my best at them, but I usually end up defeated.  I want so badly to bring my master honor with my victories, but they are few and far between. 


Other times when no challenges were issued, the visiting Noble would sit with my master talking of different events.  All the while their eyes were on me, willing me to make a mistake.  Belittling my master by saying she wasn’t training me properly.  Saying that I was an unfit slave, needing punishment.


They would stare at my master, wanting her to disagree with them.  She never disagreed, she simply said “Punish her.”  They would grab me and pull me to the floor, ripping my clothing out of their way.  They’d use their phallic rod on me.  I never really understood why they carried it; even my master carried one.  I understand now.


I lay there, unemotional, not showing anything.  I let my eyes drift to my master, seeking comfort in her.  She turned away from me, but not before I saw the hurt on her face.  The Nobles never took long in dealing my punishment.  I never was seriously physically injured; only my pride was wounded.  The only physical evidence was that they left me tender and raw.


When it was over I was a model slave, not making any mistakes.  Of course my master would have to bear their verbal downgrading as they proclaimed that their slave was how all slaves should act.  That the better the slave, the better the Noble.  My master would listen to these harsh women.  Then for the remainder of their visit she would deal with me as if I were an insolent child.  Days after the visit, she kept the unyielding ice attitude; as if she were afraid they were watching.




There was one Noble though that was descent.  Her name was Anya.  She was slight of build and reminded me of someone from my past with here fair hair and skin.  You could almost say she looked a bit like Princess Jade’s daughter from my homeland.  I suspected that this Noble was a different line than the rest of those heathens.  She never challenged my master for that I was grateful.  When my master saw that it was Anya visiting instead of one of the others, she brightened and relaxed.  Anya’s slave was even kind to me.


When Anya’s slave and I would work together in the kitchen or where ever we were told.  She would “talk” with me as if I were like every other person.  She even tried to understand me.  I was surprised one day when Anya’s sent her to deliver a message, stating that I write a tale for her.  I was excited at the news and cold barely hide the fact.  Praying that my master would concede to such a request.  My master’s face mirrored my excitement at the mention of my talent.  Giving me permission to scribe, for Anya, the best tale I could imagine. 


She sent us to the study to complete the task.  Soon as the door was closed Anya’s slave began talking, telling me all about her day.  It didn’t surprise me that she never talked about her master or the other Nobles.  She did sometime mention other slaves though.  I wondered what went on between other slaves and their masters, but I hadn’t broached the subject as of yet.  She started to ask questions today while I wrote my tale. I was glad to be near plenty of paper; I could actually answer her without acting my answers out.


She inquired about my homeland.  I told her how my mother was an assistant of the Sacred One, our ruler.  I told her that there weren’t any slaves in Giya.  How I had been traveling to the Far Provinces when our ship was hit bye a fierce storm and lost at sea.  I had seized a barrel and swam as best I could.


I watched her read my thoughts.  Watching her expression as she realized how lucky I was to be alive.  My master came in and took the paper from Anya’s slave assuming it was my story.  My throat tightened as she started to read.


When finished she ordered Felicitia, Anya’s slave, from the room She then calmly spoke to me, asking why I never told her about my past.  I simply replied that she never really asked me.  I saw her eyes flash anger, and then quickly vanish.  She gently cupped my cheek and told me that I was free to speak of what ever I wanted.  I wanted her to stay with me so that I might continue to gaze into her crystal blue eyes, that’s what I wanted.  Felicitia re-entered and I decided to tell her everything about my master and me.


She told me that her relationship with her master was very similar to mine.  But the others Nobles never pressured Anya that whenever they were alone, they were equals.  I longed for when, if ever, my master and I would be equals.  I finished the story and Felicitia departed.  I know not what possessed me to tell my master all Felicitia had revealed to me.  I felt she needed to know that she wasn’t the only Noble that had feelings for her slave.  She remained silent for the rest of the evening, going to bed early.




The next day Anya paid my master a visit in high spirits.  She presented my master with a scroll, declaring that a tournament was being held within the next three days.  The winner’s prize was a promotion to Battle General, Anya’s current rank.  From what I understood, this rank would be several ranks above most other Nobles.  My master so deserved this.  I had watched her train and knew she was an excellent warrior.  My master told Anya that she would attend the tournament.  Anya seemed giddy as she rode away.


There was something strange about how Anya acted compared to the other Nobles.  They never showed outright emotions.  Never smiling when war or violence was not mentioned.  Anya on the other had did show some emotions.  I wanted to find out more about her, but I didn’t know how, even Felicitia only knew a limited amount of her past.  There was something extremely familiar about her.  Of course my master is also just as mysterious of her past.  That night my master described what the tournament events would consist of.




Today was the tournament and my heart sand with the thought that my master might not make it through.  I have faith in my master’s ability, but this tournament was to the death.  She dressed in her chain mail and leather.  I wanted to kiss her for luck before she entered the arena, but I held back.  She walked out with her head held high emanating pure confidence in her victory.  Anya and Felicitia joined me in the private box.  Slipping her hand in mine Felicitia smiled, reassuring me.


My heart leapt into my throat as the horns blew signaling the start.  I watched knowing I could not look away even if I tried.  Awe struck at the speed in which these two women were moving.  Nearly crying out when my master was felled. A steady hand kept me rooted to my seat as Anya held me in place.  I stared as my master regained her feet in mere seconds.  The battle grew bloody then when my master drew first blood, driving her sword into the woman’s leg.  The warrior continued on, but it was evident that she was tiring fast.


The woman now lay on the ground trying to regain her footing for a final attack.  My master stood above her waiting for her to stand.  The woman slashed at my master, with agile reflexes she jumped out of the way.  The woman’s blade only caused a flesh wound on my master's thigh.  I wanted to rush down there to her side and make sure she was all right. My master finished the battle quickly by slicing the woman’s throat.  I couldn’t stand the wait for her to return to me.  I couldn’t even hear the Grand Noble announce her victory over the pounding of my own heart.




That night, after I had tended to her wounds, we lay in our bed as she told me how she had changed during that one fight.  How she was tired of the Noble’s and their thoughts of her.  I wanted to tell her I agreed but I decided to let her finish.  She turned to me and gazed into my eyes telling me that she didn’t want to deny her feelings anymore.  That she wanted the whole world to know about us.  I cried tears of joy as she said that she would even give up being a Noble just to be able to hold me in public.  “I love you.”  She said and I returned it fully.



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