By the Manor Owned

by Phair

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 www.phair1.com

Part 6

Tess lay amid the tangle of sheets admiring her lover. Jordan's sweet, sweaty body was curled around her own. The slave's pink cheek rested comfortably on Tess' chest. A steady puff of air from Jordan's petite nose tickled Tess' exposed skin to goose bumps. With a soft sigh of contentment, Tess leaned down to kiss the brow at her breast.

"Morning?" Jordan's voice was hoarse.

"No, hours yet till dawn," Tess folded herself into the body in her arms. "Just wanted you again."

"Good because I was dreaming about you," Jordan smiled without opening her eyes.

"I love you," Tess kissed her cheek, then her jaw, then her neck, then stopped to let her long fingers fiddle with the collar.

Jordan's eyes snapped open. Her hands rose to stop Tess' explorations near the buckle.

"DON'T!"

"Why not?" Tess was stunned by Jordan's fierce response.

"Only remove it if you mean to leave it off," Jordan's eyes filled with tears. "I couldn't bare the humiliation of putting it back on again."

"I'm sorry," Tess muttered. "The collar a prop. Window dressing, if you would. It wasn't meant to really hurt you. Try not to think of it as a punishment between us. It has nothing to do with what happens between you and me in our bed."

"I know, I know," Jordan groaned heavily, "everybody needs to believe that you're humbling me for starting that damn fire. But Tess, some days it's harder to stand than others; the way they look at me. I hate the way they stare when they see it. They blame me for their worries about the food stores," Jordan's hand went to her neck as if to hide the detested object.

Tess blushed. She pulled away from Jordan and climbed out of bed. With stooped shoulders, she made her way in the dim light to the fire place to added another log in silence. Only the sharp crackle of the dry wood broke the distance between the lovers for many minutes.

"Hey, that is the reason I'm still wearing this, right?" Jordan questioned with an indignant air. "To make everybody believe the harvest was stolen? Tess, talk to me. Don't just sulk off," Jordan scrambled out of the bed to stand, with her hands on naked hips, demanding an answer. "You need to tell me the whole truth. I deserve that much."

"You're so beautiful; so pure. My heart almost breaks every time I look at you. I can hardly believe you're with somebody like me," Tess never took her eyes off the growing flames.

"I'm with you because YOU BOUGHT ME!" Jordan angrily bit out the words.

"Precisely," Tess stood and faced Jordan. "I own you." The pink color rising in her cheeks and the darkening of her eyes only hinted at the depths of a lust fueled by fear. "This is my mark, my claim, on you," her fingers teased the warm leather around Jordan's throat. "It gives me the right to do this."

Tess stepped closer and brushed a gentle kiss on trembling lips. Her hands moved Jordan's hands behind the slave's back. The kiss deepened but Jordan's arms were not released. Tess continued to hold the blonde tightly against her own bare body. She rubbed her hardening nipples across Jordan's soft, smooth flesh. Tess felt Jordan's grudgingly slow response to the intensity of her actions.

"Now, it's your turn to tell the whole truth," Tess broke off the kiss and gave a smug grin. "If you were not my slave, would you seek me out? Would you risk your life to be with me?"

"We've played this game before. The first night I stayed in your bed," Jordan struggled slightly to break away. "You had my answer then," the slave was unable to make eye contact.

"No, the question that first, wonderful night was 'if you were free.' This time I want to know if you would do what Poe and my mother did. Sneaking away from their duties to steal a few brief moments in each others arms. Risking their lives for love," Tess held the woman fast. "Would you tempt fate to be with me."

"No," Jordan hung her head to hide the tears of shame that spilled with her admission.

"See," Tess, much to Jordan's surprise, chuckled, "that's why I have to mark you as mine. As I told you before, I'll not suffer this life without you. I will not go it alone anymore."

"Last night you were ready to sell me back to Master Saunders. Back to a life as anybody's whore for the night; for my Master's price," Jordan rebutted bitterly.

"I will never risk your life, my love. You have my promise on that." Tess stole another kiss. "Last night, I did believe I would be going back to prison very soon. As cruel as selling would be, it was the only way I could think of to protect you from the governor."

"So this morning, you don't think you're going to prison?" Jordan had not intended to sound as hopeful as she did.

"That's right. You helped me see there are other options for me. Other options for us," Tess slipped her thigh between Jordan's legs. "A way to achieve freedom for some of us."

"Freedom for some? But not for me," Jordan whispered and Tess nodded assent. "So, what do I get out of it?" Jordan stopped struggling and relaxed against Tess' strength.

"You get me," Tess kissed one cheek. "You get the Manor," Tess kissed the other cheek. "And you just might get to see an honest to God slave revolt."

"Staged by you," Jordan mumbled as her body's desires awoke to her Master's touch.

"And with you by my side," Tess captured Jordan's mouth and ended their discussion.

* * *

The bell in the courtyard rang for the first time since Togo's death. Slaves from the upper manner dropped their chores and raced to heed the summons. They huddled near the whipping post to await what they assumed was bad news. A slight gasp went up when Tess strode into their midst followed by a bulky man many knew too well.

"There's much work today so I'll be brief," Tess, letting her temper show, scowled at the group. "The governor has been kind enough to return Mr. Quimby to us as overseer for the Manor. See to it that you mind him as you would obey me."

"Most'a ya be remember'n me, I can sees it in ya faces," he gave a snide chuckle. "I'll not tolerate no nonsense from any of ya. Do yer work, we gots no problem. Slack off and I'll be teach'n ya better than that," his hand caressed the whip at his hip.

"That's plain and simple enough," Tess maintained her firm stance. "You all get back to work. Mr. Quimby, if you will accompany me to the lower Manor then we can complete your introductions."

"Fine job with that, my girl," Quimby gave a wink as the crowd quickly cleared away. "Ya gonna love me bein' back. I be tak'n care of this rabble for ya. Whip 'em inta shape real good. Ya can trust me on that."

"Trust you? Well, what choice do I have?" Tess muttered as she walked toward the lower Manor.

Jordan watched the scene play out from the back of the crowd. She cringed inside when the big man spoke to Tess. His certainty of his control over the woman showed in his manner. The contemptuous stare as she spoke and the smirk when he spoke displayed his arrogance for any and all to see. It was a dangerous sort of confidence.

"Miss Jordan," a gravelly voice whispered behind her and broke her train of thought.

"I'm sorry, I was day dreaming," she whirled around to find Vic standing a hand span behind her.

The man was shaking. His clothes were saturated with sweat in spite of the chilly temperatures. There was something pathetic about the bully. It was an almost sniveling quality.

"What's with the 'Miss' stuff," Jordan sneered at the man who had taunted her so many times in the last few weeks.

"Please, I…, I'm sorry I hurt you before but I need help. I'm sick. You can see that," he shivered as the wind blew.

"You cause your own sickness," Jordan turned to walk back to the house.

"Wait, I smashed the still. The day I saw that beast of a man return to the Manor's front door. Please," Vic followed close on Jordan's heels, "he'll kill me if I don't stop drinking. That'll leave my daughter without somebody to watch over her."

"What do you want me to do about?" Jordan stopped short and snapped at the doorman.

"You work with the boy. There must be a medicine to ease this," he held out his shaking hand. "And I'm seeing things that aren't there."

"There isn't any medicine for this; not for a slave anyway," Jordan took his hand and felt the blood racing at the wrist. "You need to sweat it out some more. Go to your bed and pray nobody notices you missing for a few days. See if anybody will cover the door for you."

"Can't you get me on the sick list? The Master won't question it if you say I got a bug."

"She won't, huh? Is that because I'm her bitch?" Jordan's eyebrows furrowed.

Vic's shoulders slumped. Jordan watched as his last hope slipped out of his grasp. It was all his own doing, of course, but Jordan felt a twinge of pity for the foolish slave. He had indulged in a vise beyond a slave's grasp and now he would suffer more than a hangover. A voice in the back of her mind quietly reminded her that she was beautiful and pure. Do beautiful and pure people allow others suffer needlessly?

"I'll get you on the sick list," Jordan had to steady the man as his knees went weak. "Let's get you in the stable to ride this out. We might need to chain you to the post."

"Anything, anything you say, thank you, thank you, Miss Jordan" Vic wept as she guided him to the Master's stables. "This won't be a freebie either. I can repay your kindness."

"Really," Jordan snorted a laugh. "Now that the still is gone, what do you have to offer me?"

"My buddy tells me you got an interest in that new girl in quarantine. You know, the feisty one. Says you check on her quite regular. Well, he hands out the assignments, my boy does. Instead of the fields, she could go to the laundry or the lower kitchens or wherever you want her to go. Some place nice and comfortable and convenient to visit," Vic gave a knowing wink.

"I'm not interested in her," Jordan tried to stutter a defense. "She's just young and reckless and badly in need of training or…,"

"Or Mr. Quimby will tie her to that post and strip her to the bare bone. Don't you worry none, Miss. I don't care why you're looking after her. This is a repayment for your helping me." Vic gently squeezed Jordan's hand as they entered the stable, "The Master won't hear from me or my boy about your private matters."

"Thanks," Jordan coughed as she wondered if she should put herself on the sick list seeing as she was about to vomit at the realization her secret had been uncovered by two of the dumbest slaves at the Manor.

* * *

"Jordan, it's getting so late. I was going to go out and look for you myself. Where have you been? Never mind," Dinah was breathless when Jordan entered the kitchen. "Master Tess wants you to serve in the dining room at lunch today. You need to wear the…, you know, the other clothes."

"I'll run up and change. Any idea who the company is?" Jordan assumed there would be a guest at lunch requiring the skimpy, pleasure slave tunic.

"Not a clue. Please, hurry Jordan. Don't give Mr. Quimby any excuses," Dinah was ringing her hands.

"Don't worry about me, Dinah," Jordan grinned remembering how much the cook had initially disliked her. "That's another one in my corner," the young slave thought to herself as she took the stairs two at a time.

Racing into her Master's room, Jordan was relieved to find it empty. She would be able to wash up and change without worrying about explaining where she had been. Her hair would still be wet when the meal was served but maybe nobody would notice.

"A chance I have to take because I stink like a barn and Vic," she muttered as she lathered up her hair.

Moments later, Jordan scurried around the room she shared with Tess to gather make up and clothing. The silk clung to her damp body so suggestively that she had no fear any of Tess' lunch guests would even notice her hair. Still, she jelled it back to be on the safer side. Gazing at herself in the mirror, Jordan saw a sultry slave waiting to be taken.

"Be who they want you to be, be who they want you to be," she mumbled to herself as she headed for the door and down the stairs to the main dining room .

Jordan took her place behind Tess' chair with a syrup jug in hand. A quick sniff indicated the jug was filled with water like before. Stewie and Mia were positioned like herself with jug in hand behind empty guest chairs. Muffled laughter in the main hall indicated that guests had arrived. Ben and Kacia hurried in with baskets of warm rolls and butter. The five slaves waited patiently and silently for their Master and her guests.

"Tess, I want you to know how far I had to come out of my way to see you," the male voice was slightly affected and overly dramatic.

"Oh, Iggie, I know," Tess entered the dining room followed by Iggie Saunders and Mr. Quimby. "What is it? Another twenty or thirty miles?"

"At least," the heavy man flopped down in the chair in front of Stewie, "but I don't get to see you anymore so I had to make the extra effort regardless of the personal toll it took."

"I've been busy, Iggie," Tess spoke gently to her old friend as she took her seat.

"Na, I wouldn't ta thought a slip of meat like that would slow a strong back like ya," Quimby snorted as he leered at Jordan.

"Mr. Quimby," Iggie interrupted with a giggle, "that slave was one of the best earners in my stable. She's sweet and soft and skilled and …,well, you must know what I'm getting at. So, when my Tessa needed company all the way out here in the woods, I had to send my very best," Iggie gushed as he blew a kiss towards Tess' end of the table.

Tess gave a grateful smile.

"Then would it be himself that I see 'bout gett'n me own company," Quimby pushed Mia forward with a stinging slap on the ass.

"You have your pick of the Manor within limits," Tess frowned as she spoke. "The slave must be over eighteen. He or she can't be promised to another, even another slave. It must be an exclusive relationship for six months then you can keep whoever you have or trade."

"Pretty cheap, of ya," Quimby grumbled. "Afore, I got my pick weekly. Your'n father knew me well. Sees, my mood shifts from hims to hers and backs and forths. Variety, girl, variety."

"I'll let you have one of each but that's the end of my generosity," Tess pulled Jordan next to her and rested her cheek on the slave's silky hip. "You want more variety than that then you'll have to pay Iggie for the selection. I won't provide luxury items for you while the Manor is facing the single most serious food shortage in it's history."

"Speaking of Iggie's house and the treats provided within," Saunders interrupted the growing tension once again with a giggle. "I should tell you why I came." Ben placed a steaming bowl in front of the man. "Even though Dinah's stew would be more than enough reason to visit."

Tess chuckled but did not pick up her spoon. She watched the two men dive into their meal and envied their appetites. The food did not tempt her. Her hunger was for a much different type of comfort. Turning slightly, she set a trail of nibbling kisses down Jordan's naked thigh. The warm, quivering skin was all too tasty.

"Anyway," Iggie wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "the governor sent me. There is a big gathering at his lake side cabin in two weeks."

"Orgy?" Tess mumbled around Jordan's hip.

"That's what the announcement says but," Iggie's tone became serious enough to distract Tess from her kissing, "only landowners along the west and north boundaries are invited."

"You think it's a war planning party?" Tess' heart hammered in her chest at the thought of regional war.

"That be crazy talk!" Quimby roared. "He be need'n okay from the Federated States forn that had chase of happ'n."

"Relax," Iggie gave an exasperated sigh. "It's not war, well not yet anyway. The governor is looking to round up fresh slaves from the tribes in the Westlands. It'll cut down on the imports from the Northern Boundary. Illegal trade is getting out of hand."

Tess felt Jordan stiffen at the mention of the illegal trading. She held the slave for several minutes before responding to try to give some small comfort to the woman.

"If it's only a slave round up from the western gangs then why does he need us?" Tess finally release her hold on Jordan and turned her attention to her guests.

"My guess, and it is only a guess, is that he'll put Federated troops on the land. Then he'll start his slavers and guards at the coast and drive the gangs back into the soldiers waiting arms." Iggie shook his head sadly, "It'll be a massacre."

"Thos'n gangs be ferocious when cornered. They'd die afor'n bein' slaves again. It'll be a bloody bloodbath," Quimby grimaced.

"It'll be genocide," Tess thought as she pushed her food away.

TBC...

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