By the Manor Owned

Disclaimer: Consider this Uber. The characters may have a physical resemblance to a late warrior and her bard but that is as far as it goes. No infringement is intended and no profit will be gained.

Warnings: Violence, sex (f/f, m/m, f/m), rape, bad language, nasty characters and angst driven situations. Basically, this is for adults only!

Why: This is for all the nice folks who asked for a sequel of TO THE MANOR SOLD. To understand this story, you really need to read that one first.

Feedback: p.phair@comcast.net and you can visit my web site at http:www.phair1.com

Part 7

Tess drove Rufo higher into the hills. The beast snorted bitterly at his double burden. The weight of both Tess and Jordan was more than he ordinarily liked to carry but he moved at a steady upward pace with the frequent urging of his rider.

"Almost there," Tess spoke softly to reassure her sometimes volatile horse.

Jordan remained silent as she desperately clung to Tess. The slave was too terrified to scream her fear. She had never been on a horse before this ride. The shared saddle perch was too high off the ground for Jordan’s tastes. She was also mindful that they were running at nearly a full gallop. She believed her safety concerns to be quite reasonable. Jordan took a deep breath to calm herself and buried her face against Tess’ strong back.

"Almost there, Jordan, easy now," Tess cooed over her shoulder to the slave.

"I’m fine," Jordan lied as she spoke directly into the rich fabric of Tess’ winter coat.

After Iggie left the Manor, Tess ordered Jordan to change into warm clothes and called for her horse to be readied. No other details were provided about their hasty trip. Jordan knew better than to ask in front of the other slaves. Once on the horse, Jordan was too busy holding on to ask about their destination.

The horse slowed his pace with Tess’ unspoken command. She let him trot a bit before finally stopping. Tess dismounted with ease. Jordan basically fell off the horse into Tess’ waiting arms. Shaking to the point of tears, Jordan held fast to her Master.

"I got you," Tess chuckled as Jordan wrapped trembling arms around her neck. "Here now, let me take care of Rufo while you go and spread out the sleeping bag, okay?"

The two set about their tasks as the sun sank lower into the horizon. By the time a still shaken Jordan had steadied herself enough to finish her job, Tess had Rufo settled and a camp fire crackling. The dark woman gave a half smirk when Jordan dropped into the sleeping bag completely exhausted from the day and the terrifying horse back ride.

"Before you fall asleep, come, take a walk with me," Tess stood tall and extended her hand.

"Oh, yeah, just like you to wait until I’m all comfortable," Jordan grumbled back.

The pair walked hand in hand to the edge of the hill. The wind raced past them with a low howl. Below them, the river cut a rushing pace to the sea. It tore a jagged path through the soil and rock face. And beyond the river’s banks spread an untamed land.

"Those are the Westlands," Tess murmured in Jordan’s ear as she pulled Jordan against her chest and wrapped her coat around them.

Jordan relaxed into the embrace. She could feel Tess’ nipples harden against her back as strong arms pulled her closer in their cocoon.

"Before the wars, before the financial restructuring, before my grandmother first smiled at my grandfather, this was one country. One government controlled what is now the Federated States, the Westlands, and the Southern Plain."

"What about the Northern Boundary?" Jordan asked as she snuggled into the heat Tess’ body provided.

"The Northern Boundary was separate, as far as I know. I’m not sure if it was a civilian rule or a military state. It has always been an uneasy border. But, both lands were prosperous then and well fed and strong and rich," Tess began to mumble as she kissed Jordan’s neck.

"What happened?" Jordan could not imagine life without a daily struggle for survival.

"Who can remember? Nobody really wants to remember. Maybe it was a big old fashioned bomb or natural catastrophe that left the door open for a power struggle? Whatever it was, it was enough for people to forget about food production until starvation was epidemic," Tess stopped to kiss her way down Jordan’s throat. She sucked vigorously at the edge of the leather collar before nibbling her way back up to a pink ear. "That shifted the economy from paper currency to the real product market based system we have today."

"Food became credits which made farmers rich?" Jordan whispered her deduction.

"Yep, that’s how the governor’s family originally seized power in this state. They had a good crop and supplies to spare. It didn’t take much convincing to get nearby farmers to agree to a loan. Only the farmers had to promise to repay their loans with interest out of the next harvest. Unfortunately, the interest was ridiculously high. The original debts never seemed to be satisfied. With no central government, the farmers had to go along with their one time benefactor’s wishes or face the loss of their property to foreclosure. Some of them lost their freedom as well as their goods. Slavery was reestablished, not only, as a means of dealing with criminals and debtors but as a cost efficient way to work the farms."

"Is it like that all over the Federated States? Wealthy landowners set themselves up as governors. Like some kind of feudal kingdoms," Jordan asked while completely enjoying Tess’ hold.

"Uh huh," Tess was loath to release the earlobe she was suckling to explain further.

"So, what’s going to happen with the Westlands?" Jordan tugged away and faced Tess. "What does the governor have planned for those poor souls over there?"

"I’m guessing the governor wants more slaves because he wants to push his control across the river." Tess grimaced at the thought. "The tribes out there left civil authority behind generations ago. Many are descendents of the first slave rebellion."

"The only rebellion," Jordan frowned remembering the stories of how the Federated States mercilessly ended the uprising.

"They’ll fight to the death. It’ll be the weak and the children enslaved. The rest will be slaughtered. But, it will give the governor a good excuse to keep troops on my lands for years. I can’t let that happen, Jordan. It would be a betrayal of my mother and Poe," Tess hung her head feeling the weight of her duty and her grief.

"He was your father, Tess. It’s okay to say it when we’re alone," Jordan lifted Tess’ chin with her index finger.

"I loved him so much," Tess coughed back her tears. "He’ll never know how much."

Silent moments passed before Jordan took Tess’ hand. She lead them back from the wind swept edge of the hill to the soft, warm comfort of their sleeping bag.

"You’re really going to start a slave uprising, aren’t you?" Jordan asked as she eased herself under the covers.

"Yes," a worn out Tess crawled in next to her, "it’s all I can do to disrupt the governor’s plans. Even if the disruption is merely a temporary interruption, it will give some a chance to escape."

"The chances of you plan working…," Jordan’s assessment was cut off by Tess’ needy kiss.

Tess awkwardly pulled and pushed Jordan’s clothes out of the way. There was no need to undress entirely. Tess wanted quick relief for the ache in her heart. They were most likely doomed and Tess craved a brief escape from reality. Her hand grabbed at Jordan’s sex while her mouth crushed against Jordan’s own.

"Easy," Jordan gently stroked Tess’ flushed face. "You can have everything you want. As much as you need," as Jordan reassured she saw the uncertainty in Tess’ eyes. "My Master, my owner, my lover can have me anyway she needs and as many times as she wishes and for as long as her desire burns unchecked."

Tess released her rough grip on the slave’s sex in the wake of Jordan’s complete submission. Tears, finally freed, started down the Tess’ cheeks. Losing her longing for power, she allowed her body to be comforted in Jordan’s arms. The slave rolled a weeping Tess on her back.

"Do you want me to make you feel better?" Jordan hummed between kisses. "Do you want me to take it all away for a while? Do you want to be free of your obligations for a night?"

"Yes," The sobbing acknowledgement shook Tess’ whole body.

"Then get on your belly," Jordan commanded as she released her hold on the woman.

Tess obeyed immediately. Her pants were pushed down to her thighs. The evening chill across her skin was quickly replaced by the heat of tender kisses alternating with sharp nips on her ass cheeks. Jordan was making short work of inflaming her Master’s need.

"Please," Tess moaned when she felt delicate finger tips pressing against her darkness; teasing her open.

"How many can you stand for me, my love? How much will you tolerate before you beg me to stop torturing you?" Jordan taunted in the reddened ear of her owner.

"I’m at your mercy. Do what you will to me," Tess squeezed her eyes shut as Jordan pushed Tess to a new level of endurance.

***

"Ya sure ‘nough be look’n like a surly one," Quimby wiped his dripping nose on his dirty coat sleeve as he inspected the filthy female slave standing in chains before him.

The auburn haired girl glared at the man rounding on her but she wisely remained silent. In spite of an outward appearance of defiance, her eyes shifted nervously between the man’s face and his right hand resting on the vicious looking whip hanging at his hip. It was her first outward sign of fear. Quimby was pleased to see fear so early in his inspection.

"So far, so good," Quimby mused to himself as he dragged the inspection out for another circling. "Tell me, how long she be in those sheds?" A very smug Quimby called to the slave standing behind him but he never took his eyes off the woman in front of him.

"Fifteen days, so far, sir," the slave in charge of the sheds kept his focus on the ground but not out of respect for the overseer . "She’s been trouble since the get go. Only one who can get near her without a fight is the Master’s whore."

"That so," Quimby grinned at the information. "Wond’r what makes that little piece of meat so special to ya, girlie? Do ya have a fancy for her ass now or is it someth’n more than that? It wouldn’t be love. Ya don’t have that in yourn tough skin."

The slave, tempting all the fates, dared to sneer back with a false air of bravado.

In a flash of movement, the overseer swooped to overtake the girl. Kicking at her knees, buckling them under her, he dropped her to the ground beneath them. Quimby pulled a fistful of hair close to his chest. He pressed the twisted cold metal of his knife sharply against her neck, drawing blood, ending any struggle on her part.

"Ya a trouble mak’r? ‘Cuz, if’n you’re, I’ll be slic’n yourn throat right now!" He screamed in her ear.

"N..n..no," she managed to squeak out over her terror. "I’m not a troublemaker."

"Ya be forgett’n yourn manners so soon?" He let the blade rip the small wound at her throat a bit wider and deeper.

"N…n…o, no, sir," she quickly replied.

"That be the way," he hissed before biting her ear. "Name, tell me yourn name!"

"Lan…, Laney, sir," the girl winced against her pain to answer. "Please, don’t hurt me."

"That be dependen on ya, now." Quimby smirked as he asked, "Doesn’t it?"

"Yes, sir," the girl whispered as she felt his hold of her hair ease up but his command over her life increase.

"I’d be mak’n ya my own. Any problem wit that?" He hushed intimately in her ear.

"No sir, no problem at all. It will be a pleasure to serve," Laney closed her eyes to hide her lie.

"Oh, trust me. You won’t be the least bit happy in my bed, girlie," Quimby roared with laughter.

***

Jordan sat on the edge of the bed she shared with Tess, sobbing. Tess sighed as she dropped another arm load of clothes into her overnight sack. Dragging both hands through her hair in total frustration, Tess decided to try a different approach to their communication problem; humor.

"You know, any other Master would make the slave do the packing?" Tess said with a broad grin.

"I’d be happy to pack for you if you take me with you," Jordan composed herself to reply.

"We have been over this a hundred times. If you come with me to the orgy then I’ll have to share you with everybody there. And that is something I’m not willing to do," Tess snapped the draw string on the sack as she tried to close it. "Damn it!"

"I don’t care if I have to fuck everybody and the governor’s guards too! I just want to be with you!" Jordan shouted as she turned her tear streaked face toward Tess. "I want to be by your side, always," the last sentence was mumbled and not understood by her already frustrated Master.

"Well, I care who you fuck! You will not, I repeat, you will not be fucked by anybody but me if I can help it! Now, where’s my other bag?" Tess shouted loudly at the slave.

"Your closet, TOP SHELF!" Jordan shouted back before she tossed herself face down on her pillow crying.

Tess retrieved her bag from the closet in silence. She shifted items from one bag to the other while keeping an eye on the sobbing figure on the bed. Tess’ anger eased to embarrassment and was lulled to heartbreak as she watched Jordan weep.

"Please stop crying," Tess whispered.

"You’re going to fuck other slaves while you’re there, aren’t you? Maybe screw some free people too?" Jordan sat up and tried to end her tears by brushing them away.

"It’s an orgy. It’s considered rude to abstain," Tess decided not to tell Jordan what the governor did to those trying to practice celibacy during his annual festival of lust.

"I don’t want you to be with anybody but me," Jordan pulled her knees to her chest and began to gently rock herself.

"I don’t want anybody but you," Tess secured the draw string on the second sack without incident. "But, there’s no choice here. I have to go to the governor’s orgy. You don’t. You’re staying where you’ll be safe." Tess pulled on her coat and slung the sack over her shoulder. "I’ll be back in a few days. We won’t talk about this when I get home. We need to leave it behind us. We’ll just go forward with our plans."

Jordan sat on the bed for a long time after Tess slammed the door behind her. Images of her lover with strong, beautiful, unscarred slaves flashed in Jordan’s mind. The blonde fell back on the pillows with a choking cry. It was going to be a long weekend of waiting.

***

The whip hit with unfailing accuracy across her once pristine back. Laney let all her anguish shriek it’s torment. The restraints held her in a fixed x stance between the corner posts of Quimby’s bed. The only illusion of freedom she possessed was that of her tears to fall.

"Tell me," his voice was as course as the a salt sea wind. "Ya best be tell’n me why the Master’s whore favors ya."

The whip tore a new welt over Laney’s already bleeding back. What had once been a clean span of fresh flesh, had been reduced to a bloody mass of beaten and bruised skin.

"Please, sir, no more," Laney gagged on the bile rising in her throat. "I’ll tell you anything you want to know."

"Then speak, ya bitch! Tell me ‘bout the Master’s slut!" Quimby dropped his whip and approached the battered body and broken spirit strung out like an offering before him.

"She’s, shh’s, we’re from the Northern Boundary. Jordan’s my sister," she spoke in desperation and instantly regretted it.

Laney let her head fall forward once the words were uttered. She hoped it would be enough to satisfy him. She knew telling that Jordan’s sale was illegal would cost the blonde her life. It might cost Laney her own life as well.

"Does the Master know?" Quimby lay his sweaty hands on the bleed back resulting in a stifled cry.

"No, I don’t think she knows," Laney gritted out an answer around her suffering.

"So’s, yourn sist’r be hid’n the truth from her Master? That’s almost like lying. Isn’t that right, my sweet little squealer?" Quimby was giddy with the thought of punishment due the willful slave.

"Yeah, Jordan, she’s the one that lied," Laney arched her abused back in a futile effort to escape Quimby’s painful caresses. "She’s the one you want to talk to."

"I will," he muttered as he freed his erection from his pants, "Aft’r I finish ya off."

***

Tess was lead into the reception hall of the governor’s cabin. Twenty or so landowners were already milling about waiting for the guest of honor to arrive. A naked slave girl hurried over with a drink. Her black skin was highlighted with gold body paint that swirled around her assets.

"No, thanks," Tess attempted to decline.

"My Master insists. There’ll be a toast when he arrives," the girl bowed slightly. "Everybody is expected to drink to the governor."

Tess accepted the beverage knowing that not to do so could get them both a beating. Feigning a sip, Tess let her eyes scan the room and tried to put names together with faces that had aged some since last she saw them.

"TESS!"

"Oh God," Tess shivered inside at a voice from her childhood and the thought of what the goofy girl looked like now. "Greta, such a long time."

Tess turned and to face party and her past. The woman, delighted to be remembered so readily, bounded over to Tess. She stood slightly taller than Tess but leaner. Complete with thick glasses, she gave the appearance of a scholar. Once close enough, she pulled Tess into a hug.

"I’ve been meaning to stop by the Manor but work…, well, you know," the woman apologized.

"It’s okay," Tess knew her old friend wanted to say so much more but the room was too risky. There most likely were listening devices planted around the space. "After the orgy, stop by on your way back to the capital."

"I don’t live there any more. I took over Dad’s farm," Greta spoke in a heartbreaking voice that Tess understood all too well. "I had to give up the city and university years ago."

"Yeah, me too," Tess kissed her friend’s cheek to console her over their mutual loss of a childhood dream.

"Maybe he’ll let us spend this party together? It would be easier for me to be with a friend the first time," Greta wished aloud.

"You never know," Tess was less hopeful. "Whoever he pairs you with, just try to relax and have a good time. There’s plenty of food and drink and...,"

"Sex. That’s the part I’m worried about. I’ve been with one guy for the longest time," Greta blushed.

"Husband?" Tess was a bit surprised by the admission.

"God no!" Greta laughed. "He’s a slave. He was a coming home present from Mom. It wasn’t really my bend at the time but he’s so sweet. I mean, he really works it for me. There’s something comforting about that kind of devotion. What about you, Tess? Anybody special in your life?"

Tess heart ached. She desperately missed having Jordan by her side. Taking a long gulp to the beverage in her hand, Tess tried to prepare to be evasive about her love life.

"It’s healthier to have only one lover at a time," Tess sounded very clinical and took another long swallow of her drink.

"And…, you have one lover or are you in between or…?" Greta pressed the issue.

"My Contessa has the most delicious slave warming her bed at night," Iggie stepped up behind them and into the conversation. "What that slave can do with her mouth should be illegal. In fact, it is illegal in most of the South Plain.

"Thanks, Iggie," Tess rolled her eyes as she exchanged her empty glass for a full one.

"Why so secretive? So, you’re sleeping with a slave. I am too. Big deal," Greta tried to reassure her friend. "Maybe we can get the governor to pair up your girl and my guy while we have a go at it for old times sake?"

"Oow, I’d pay extra to watch that event," Iggie giggled. "What do you say, Tess?"

"I didn’t bring her," Tess mumbled and drained her glass.

"Oh, boy! I let you girls talk while I get another round," Iggie became very serious before stepping away.

"You didn’t bring her because you didn’t want to share?" Greta spoke softly.

"Yep," Tess could not force herself to look her old friend in the eye.

"It’s not just the power thing, is it?"

"Nope."

"And it’s not just amazing nonstop sex?"

"Nope. In fact, sometimes it’s below average sex," Tess spoke with a smirk.

"Dear God, you’re in love with her, aren’t you?" Greta breathed in disbelief.

"Yep."

"You’re insane," Greta shook her head sadly. "You do know that, don’t you?"

"Yep."

"Tessa, for your own good, sell her the minute you get home," Greta cautioned. "If the governor finds out he could use it to challenge your fitness to run the Manor."

"He knows."

"Do you think he’ll try to have you committed?" Greta was very concerned.

"Nope, he’s got me right where he wants me already," Tess grumbled as she snatched another drink from a passing slave girl. "And here’s the man of the hour himself."

Greta turned in time to see a very naked governor quickly approaching. Following him was a band of naked slaves covered in a variety of edible body paints and decorations. The governor waded into the crowd assigning slaves to owners and shaking hands as he went along.

"Adds a whole new meaning to pressing the flesh, doesn’t it?" Tess hummed in her blushing friend’s ear as the host drew nearer. "Governor, good to see you. All of you," Tess waved merrily.

"Stop it, you’re drunk," Greta warned.

"Relax my dear, it is an orgy," the governor smiled happily at the pair, "she’s suppose to get drunk. That’s the point. Tess, I have such a wonderful gift for you tonight."

"It’s not Tosca, is it?" Tess grinned as she swayed under the influence of the intoxicating liquid.

"Haaahaa!" the governor howled. "No, I would never loan him out. Others would spoil him and I can’t have that. It’d be too hard to retrain him. Any who, I’m giving you this fine young buck, Rod. If you like him you can keep him."

Tess casually glanced at the young stud standing behind the governor. He was muscular but slightly shorter than herself. His brown hair was neatly trimmed and his cheeks sported the right amount of evening shadow to be sexy without being unkempt. Tess raised a half smile at the size of his personal endowment.

"By appearances he seems…blessed. But, what if he’s not my type?" Tess asked to the chuckles of the other guests.

"Everybody, on three! One, two, three…CASTRATION!" The governor began the pronouncement and the crowd completed it.

"Well then," Tess sighed before draining her glass. "he has his work cut out for him."

The party goers exploded into gales of laughter which never seemed to reach Tess’ ears as she watched poor Rod begin to sweat.

***

Jordan had been told to report to Quimby’s cottage prepared to treat an injured slave within the hour by his very frightened male slave. She knocked at the door of the cottage which, in truth, was not much more than a shack. The low rumble of a reply was all she needed to enter.

Trying to adjust to the gloom of the darkened hovel, Jordan squinted before asking, "You wished to see me, sir?"

"Next to the bed. Me bitch be hurt," Quimby leaned back in his chair with his feet propped on a low table in front of him and his male slave kneeling beside him.

"I’ll see to her," Jordan nodded to the man.

She made her way to the far side of the bed which dominated the tiny room. A blanket had been tossed over a figure cowering in the corner. Jordan approached cautiously but made noticeable noise to alert the woman of her presence.

"Easy now," Jordan hummed. "I’m going to pull the blanket back so I can get a look at your injuries." Sobs emanated from under the cloth. "I promise not to hurt you more than you’re hurting right now."

Jordan took a deep breath when the beaten back was exposed. The woman had more than twenty bloody welts. Some had crusted over which indicated a long night and day of suffering for the woman.

"Before I move you, I need to know, are you hurt anywhere else?" Jordan whispered as she tried to smooth the woman’s matted hair away from her face.

"I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I told on you, Jordan," the voice was husky from screaming.

"What?" Jordan’s heart raced with recognition of the voice.

"I told him, we’re sisters. It hurt too much. Needed him to stop beating me," Laney turned her battered face to Jordan. "Couldn’t take it anymore. I told him that was your secret."

"Oh, Laney," Jordan’s heart broke at the abuse her sister suffered to protect her.

"Ya, girlie, it be her in the flesh," Quimby grinned, "or what’s little left to it."

"Please let me see to her wounds before you deal with me," Jordan never looked back at the man as she began to clean the damaged skin before her. "It’ll save you breaking in a new sex slave."

"No way," Quimby grabbed Jordan by the shoulder and pulled into the center of the room. "My boy can wash the bitch up. Ya not be delaying the hand of justice," the overseer glared at Jordan as he tied her hands together. "Follow me, girlie, if’n ya know’n what’s good for ya."

Jordan tried to harden her heart as she followed Quimby out of the cottage. She was certain he would be brutal with her. But, he did not have enough cause at this point to execute her without Tess’ approval. The penalty would become a matter of endurance.

"Can I survive until Tess comes home?" Jordan wondered silently as Quimby dragged her out the door to face her punishment in the courtyard.

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