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

Tess took a deep, satisfied breath. As her eyes opened, they immediately settled on the woman watching her from across the bed. The distance between their sweaty bodies was broken by their arms' length meeting at interlacing, warm finger tips. Jordan's gaze never shifted as Tess focused on her.

"It's so strange," Jordan mumbled. "This is happiest I've ever been."

"That's a good thing, isn't it?" Tess gave a half smile.

"I'm not sure. I don't think it says much about me. How I value myself," her voice was even but hinted at an old pain. "After all, I'm a slave in love with my Master. While others rebel, I've accepted the fact that I'll never be free. You'll never free me, will you?"

Tess pulled her hand away and rolled over to sit on the edge of the mattress. Her shame was palpable. She needed to distance herself from Jordan. A scan of the room found her pants on the floor by the rocking chair. With a quick grab, she tugged into them while heading for the door.

"Want something to eat?" The sullen woman asked hiding behind a veil of dark hair and a half turn.

"No," Jordan scooted to Tess' side of the bed, momentarily enjoying the warmth against her naked bottom, "don't run out. I want you to talk to me, please."

Tess rested her forehead on the cool wood. Her reason battled with her heart. Reason was lost with one glance at Jordan's pleading; the slight slave's bareness interrupted only by the black leather collar around her slender neck. The desire to run vanished beneath a wave of longing.

"Freeing you," Tess cleared her throat as she returned to the bed and her duty, "would be extremely dangerous. It would risk a review of your original purchase records and any files Saunders kept on you. If the governor discovered you were over age or, God forbid, literate when sold then I would be arrested for trafficking in illegal slaves. Even if I wasn't convicted, I would still lose my parole and be sent back to prison. The Manor would fall into the governor's control. And as for you,…well, the government is suppose to free people like you but that has never happened under this governor's rule. Generally, he likes to charge illegal slaves with spying for the Northern Boundary. It keeps the investigation limited to this side of the boarder."

"Spying? That's a death sentence. Execution by impaling," Jordan's mouth went dry remembering the monthly event held in the border region. It took several minutes to clear her head of those terrible images before reconsidering the explanation and Tess' guilty expression. "But, that isn't the only reason you bind me over, is it?"

"I'd be a liar if I said it was." Tess sighed knowing she was caught in a half truth, "I love you. I won't chance losing you. Jordan, I can't lose everything I hold dear. Keeping you in bondage is a small price to pay for one of my only joys in life." Tess shook her head, "I know, I'm an appallingly selfish person."

Jordan held her tongue and looked away. She was unwilling to answer her Master's unspoken question. Unwilling to pass judgment.

"This fishing house is as close to freedom as you'll ever come. I fixed it up for you to use as a retreat. When you want some space, we can come up her for a few hours or days." Tess gave a halfhearted shrug, "Sorry, but that's as far as I'm willing to go. Jordan, you can't expect me to risk everything for you."

The room fell silent as Jordan studied Tess' face. She reached out and cradled the strong cheek in her hand. Tess graced the palm with a kiss.

"Well, it's more than I've ever been offered before," Jordan crawled forward to straddle Tess' leather covered thighs. "I suppose there's something to be said for that," she pressed her chest against Tess' bare breasts. "And I do love you like no master who came before you."

A smile broke on the fair face before a gentle kiss was placed on Tess' trembling lips. Tess let her hands slide up the soft curves of Jordan's hips. With a deliberate slowness she trailed across the scar marked back. Caressing every crevasse and bulge with tender concern. Jordan moaned deeply at the detailed attention provided to her old wounds.

"And, don't forget, I'm totally devoted to you," Tess offered the breathlessly promise.

"How devoted?" Jordan was slipping a hand between them, into Tess' pants.

"Completely," Tess had to bite her lip to keep from begging for Jordan's touch.

"Swear you won't take anybody else to our bed," Jordan's fingers teased the opening to Tess' sex.

"Oh, I swear it," Tess massaged Jordan's round ass cupped in her hands. "That goes for you too, you know."

"You're gonna have to tell the governor about that yourself," her humor failed as did Jordan's attempt to advance her hand deeper into Tess.

Tess set Jordan back, slightly, but kept the woman in her lap. The hands which so lovingly attended the slave's scarred flesh only heartbeats earlier, smoothly took Jordan's hand away from her crotch. A soft kiss to salty finger tips was accompanied by a tear splash.

"Tell me what he did to you."

"Tess, it's not important. After all my time as a slave, I'm use to brutish behavior. Talking can't change the past or the present for that matter. Let's not waste any more time fighting about what neither one of us can change. I want to make love to you. Let me make love to you," Jordan appealed , regretting mentioning the prior incident with the governor.

"And I want to love you," Tess emphasized the word hoping Jordan could hear the difference. "So, tell me what happened."

"The big guard," Jordan's expression flattened with the memory, "took my ass and the governor, well, he couldn't make it the distance so he used the whip handle on me." A lonely tear traced its way down Jordan's pink face, "He hurt me until I faked I came."

"I wish," Tess leaned into kiss the stoic slave's cheeks; first left then right, "I wish I could promise those kinds of nights won't happen again."

"I know," Jordan was under no delusions about the limits of Tess' power or personal strength.

"So, both of us are going to have to settle for the exclusion of only willing liaisons and ignore anything forced upon us," Tess accepted Jordan's short nod for mutual agreement.

Tess pressed another kiss above Jordan's collar and nudged her back. The slave was not ready to yield her position. Small hands found Tess' naked breast and stroked them. Two wills battled with their best tools to overtake the other. Several minutes of frenzied pawing and nuzzling passed with neither side gaining significant ground. It was Jordan who ended up on top when she broke free from the fiery kisses to suckle a dark, hard nipple.

"Sneaky," Tess protested as she allowed herself to be lowered onto her back.

"Wait 'til you see how sneaky," Jordan murmured as she turned her attention to the other breast.

Tess raised her eyebrows at the promise. Her center throbbed in anticipation. Jordan released the hard point to mouth her way up to Tess' ear.

With a quick nip of a blushing earlobe Jordan whispered her command, "Roll over."

Tess gladly obliged. She was quickly relieved of her pants and rewarded with one of the many lessons slavery had taught Jordan.

"Open!"

Tess held her lips firmly closed.

"Come on, it tastes sweet," Jordan coaxed.

"N'uh," the dark head of hair shook.

Jordan popped the grape in her own mouth. The tart juice made her pucker. The fact it was stolen from Tess' lips made it all the sweeter.

"No fair," Tess protested as she shifted gears enabling the truck to handle the third steep incline of the trip, "you stole my grape."

"Maybe, from now on, you'll obey me the first time I ask," Jordan popped another grape in her mouth.

"Yes, Ma'am," Tess intoned seductively. "May I have another chance?"

"You might have several, if you play it right. Open," Jordan placed the grape in the newly compliant mouth, letting her fingers linger over the tongue and teeth. "Much better."

Tess chomped happily on the fruit. They had spent the better part of the day in bed and Tess' body was pleasantly tired from their activities. Reluctantly, they had started back to the Manor with the setting of the sun. Over the crest of the last of three hills, the Manor and all the sacrifices she demanded waited for their return.

"Dinah must have every light in the place burning," Jordan pointed to the dim glow in the distance.

"Check under the seat or," Tess' voice became very serious, "in the glove box for a leash."

"Hope I didn't offend," Jordan joked as she started to search. "Yech, maybe you should clean under here more often…, hey, got one."

"Good, clip it on and hide the food. We've got company."

"What makes you think that?" Jordan fastened on the leash then put a blanket over the cold case holding the food.

"Dinah put on the party lights," Tess explained. "A little signal to warn me about company should I be away when the governor or one of his Inspectors makes an unannounced visit."

The truck groaned the last few miles up the hill to the Manor. It sounded reluctant to finish the journey. Tess understood that feeling completely.

"Governor's guard," Jordan whispered as she caught sight of the boxy transport parked in front of the Manor.

"No, it's not the governor. It's one of the Inspectors," Tess shook her head. "The governor's personal transport has a gold guild. Jordan, when we get inside, I'm gonna give you a swat on the ass. I want you run to our room as fast as you can. Pretend to be afraid."

"I won't need to pretend," Jordan was trembling.

"Hey, Jordan," Tess grabbed the slave's hand and brought it to her lips, "I'll protect you."

"I know you'll try," Jordan did not want their pleasant day trip to end on an blatant lie.

The pair made their way up the front stairs. Jordan trailed behind at the end of the leash. She noticed the swagger return to Tess' hips as they reached the front door. It was so arrogant. Tess had become the Master of Westerly, again, and Jordan was reduced to property status.

Tess' plan to keep Jordan from witnessing an encounter with the Inspector was ruined once they stepped into the foyer. Four burly guards blocked the stairwell and hall to the kitchen. The only route they left open was to the dining room. Tess had no doubt who would be waiting for her there.

"Evening, gentlemen," Tess cocked her head defiantly at the heavily armed squad of soldiers.

Jordan kept her eyes down; trusting to simply follow in her Master's path. The slave was unwilling to give these guards the slightest opportunity to correct her. Their method of discipline was legendary. Jordan had no desire to experience their punishment first hand.

"I was wondering when you'd get back," the Inspector burped as they entered the dining room. "Could barely get this imbecile to get my dinner."

The Inspector sat at the head of the table with a feast spread before him. The new serving girl, who was no more than twelve, stood next to him. Her lip was split and her eyes were red rimmed from crying. A frowning Tess, took the chair at the opposing end of the table without a word directed at the Inspector. A short snap of the leash got Jordan to drop to her knees at Tess' feet. It would keep her well out of the Inspector's direct line sight.

"Kacia, come here to me," Tess cooed as she opened her arms to the girl.

The child fearfully edged away from the Inspector's side. Once she was sure she was out of striking range, Kacia bolted into Tess' waiting embrace. Totally terrorized, the small body shook violently in the strong arms holding her firmly. Kacia had no doubt that her Master had saved her form the evil man stuffing his face no more than ten feet away.

"For the love of God, woman, don't coddle them!" The Inspector shouted before devouring another bite of juicy white meat chicken. "Slaves need a strong hand to guide them. A good strapping will teacher her to do her job right the first time."

"Sir, you forget yourself. This is my household. I'm permitted to run it as I see fit," Tess glared at the Inspector. "If you need clarification on that point then we can call the governor. I'm sure he wouldn't mind us disturbing his…social time. What do you think?"

"Let's not get into a pissing match," the Inspector decided against provoking the woman over a mere slave. He had a different type of annoyance planned for the Master of the Manor this night, "Take care of your 'household' so I can attend to my business with you," he flashed a smug grin.

Tess nodded. She was certain the Inspector felt a strong hand would be needed in dealing with her. Her back burned with the memory of her last beating from the Inspector. Closing her eyes, trying to push down her own fear, Tess kissed the dark, curly haired head buried against her shoulder.

"Kacia, you go into the kitchen and, are you listening?" Tess eased the child away from her to see her face.

The girl nodded but kept her eyes down. Tess went to wipe a tear away with her thumb and the child flinched back. One evening with the Inspector taught Kacia to cringe at a simple touch. Tess knew it would be weeks before she would be able to get the girl to trust her hand or even laugh again.

"I want you to go to the kitchen. Tell Dinah to wash you up, give you something to eat and then off to bed," the tears tracked down light brown cheeks and Tess realized Kacia thought she was being punished. "Would you like to sleep in Dinah's room tonight?"

Kacia mustered only a nod.

"Okay, tell Dinah, I said you should sleep with her."

"Master," the girl whispered so only Tess could hear, "can you say, I should sleep in her bed?"

"You're getting a bit big for that," Tess said with a wink knowing the girl could stand some mothering tonight, "but I suppose this once it would be alright."

Once Tess released her grip, the child nodded gratefully and raced for the door. Tess silently wished she could make the Inspector move out of her dining room as fast. There was the smallest of hugs on her lower leg. Jordan's arm had wrapped itself around the well muscled calf. Tess felt a strange sense of calm and reassurance in Jordan's token of support.

"The governor is most upset with those slaves you're letting run wild," the lanky Inspector slurped more of the intoxicating syrup onto his crisp gray uniform than into his mouth.

"I freed thirty of them as provided for in the Federated States Document," Tess calmly explained, "and as allowed by Togo's will."

"An annual release was suppose to give land owners a chance to clear the elderly and infirmed out. You, my dear Tessa, let young men and women in their production years go!" The red faced Inspector pulled a riding crop from his lap and slammed it on the hard wood of the table. "Not to mention, you give them land to farm! GET ON YOUR KNEES AND EXPLAIN!" The inspector bellowed his rage.

Tess rose more steadily than she anticipated her capacity. As she passed, a soft, unobserved, tussle of Jordan's silky blonde hair was stolen in an effort to calm her nerves. She made her way to kneel before the drunken, enraged Inspector who stood snapping that memorable riding crop against his thigh. Tess recognized it as Togo's own.

She left the tortuous crop mounted above the fireplace where the former Master had it installed. The much used crop served as a daily reminder of the pain and humiliation she suffered as a child. Tess had hoped its mere presence would temper her own hand when dealing with the Manor's slaves.

"Sir, the land grant was given with a prevision for a portion of the product to be paid to the Manor annually for the next thirty years."

"Take off your shirt," the Inspector ignored her justification as he tested the strength of the crop against his palm.

"The freed slaves tend the land and give me a piece of the profit," Tess continued as she slowly unbuttoned the blouse and let it drop to the floor. "They're working soil Togo or I never considered to try to plow before. The best part is that they are paying for the chance to try it," she tried to sound reasonable as she spoke.

Without a warning, the Inspector slapped two criss cross stripes on Tess' exposed breasts with the riding crop. He smiled when she sucked in a breath at the pain. Using the bloody end of the crop he lifted her chin up enough to spit into her face.

"Big fucking deal!" Another two welts landed hard.

"It is," Tess gasped in agony. "I stopped paying for their food, lodging, and care," two more cracks of the crop interrupted her.

"Why not sell off slaves to save credits?" The Inspector slurred.

"They," Tess groaned under another strike, "they're working unused soil. More yield next year without spending more of my resources."

"So, why free them? Just make them to work harder!" Two more fierce slaps of the crop against unprotected flesh brought a grin to the Inspector's hard-bitten face.

"They work to feed themselves," Tess winced against the searing pain across her chest, "and they work for credits to buy their loved ones' freedom. It's motivation to do better than your utmost; best reason I can think of to try. We should have an exceptional harvest next season with the addition of the Freed Village's product."

The Inspector seemed to consider her logic for a few minutes. He let the riding crop tease over one wounded breast to the other and back again. His overactive manhood was embarrassingly evident at this point and further fueled his anger.

"The governor insists you attend the general auction in ten days. You are to purchase fifteen new slaves. They're to be young and health stock!" He cracked another strike against the bloodied chest. "As his personal guest, you'll get first buyer pick and best price."

"It's not a good time to buy. The food stocks are low," Tess groaned as another blow landed hard on her breast.

"You be there in your best Republic suit with your parole patch on your sleeve. The governor will accept no excuses from traitorous scum like you!" With a raging cry, the Inspector violently slashed the crop across Tess' face, catching the corner of her right eye.

The Master of Westerly crumbled forward, into a ball, at the agonizing gash. Laying helpless and nearly blind from the blood and pain, Tess expected the Inspector to thrash her exposed back mercilessly. Instead a small, warm body pounced on her own to bear the burden of the Inspector's wrath. Tess felt the vibration of each strike against the body above her. The moment was so much like the terrible night of her mother's final sacrifice that Tess finally screamed her anguish. It did nothing to end the savage thrashing.

"Whore! You want a beating too? Well, you got one!" The Inspector's thunderous voice echoed in Tess' ears but she could not will her trembling body off the floor. "So, it's one for your Master and one for you," the sound of leather hitting skin tore through the night. "And two for your Master and two for you…,"

Tess heard Jordan sob in her ear but could do nothing to stop the whipping.

TBC...