“Die Master-und Slave” (Stig/Yana)

Excitement crept under his skin, building up within his stomach until he was a tight ball of anxiety. He closed his eyes and rested his head back, waiting for his slave to come up and join him in his office.

This, he thought, is going to be interesting…

The night her brother died she gripped his hand at his bedside, she was not so much afraid of death because she’d seen it often. She’d held the hand of death several times, with her mother, her father and now Rafael. She let tears fall from her eyes, let them drop neatly on the cold sheets that covered her older brother. Kissed his forehead as he whispered things to her, she knew that after tonight she’d have nothing. She wouldn’t be returning to university, she wouldn’t return to the farm or even her hotel room. She was penniless and forgotten. She had nothing or no one to call her own.

He whispered a name, said to find someone in Asher city and she let her breath catch within her throat. Slavery was shameful, she didn’t mean to be but she was often ashamed of her brother for making that choice, even though at the time it had been the only option. She couldn’t imagine not having any freedom, not being in control of herself and yet she knew the task she must perform now. She knew she was no longer just Yana, she was going to be someone else’s. It was as though he was passing on a torch but her eyes grew defiant as he lay cold and breathless beneath her fingertips, she was scared.

The process took a month, a full month to be sold and for everything to be settled. She’d grown even more reclusive than she’d already been. She was innocent and intelligent, something many buyers seemed to delight in. She told no one that she was a virgin however; she wouldn’t let that be known. She kept that one to herself. It wasn’t as though she’d kept her virginity for this reason alone, like a gift for a master but because her mother was a God fearing woman. Had spoken to her of love and marriage and waiting but she justified things in her head, becoming a slave was like a marriage to her master though she believed there was no love in that.

She sat in a cold desolate room when they came for her, her window was lined with books, escapes to magical places where people were free to do what they liked. The thought of becoming someone’s slave had become overbearing, mostly because she knew nothing about it other than what they told her. That her master could do with her what he pleased. She pictured a bald fat man with a high sexual libido, a beautiful mistress who loved to address pain to her victims, perhaps someone who just wanted her to clean up after them. She was frightful but who wouldn’t be?

And then it was time. She looked up at a tall building with her magnificent dough eyes, she wore something subtle and refined though she realized now that as soon as she walked through that door she’d be nothing but. She was led through rooms and up an elevator and soon she was staring at a wooden door where her future would await her, her heart beat heavily in her chest and she thought of how she wasn’t afraid of death. She walked into the room and her eyes peered at the man before her, she wasn’t sure if she was to speak or approach but she simply stood awkwardly. After a moment of silence her voice came out slowly, “I’m Yana- sir” she said meekly. 

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reblogged from stig-sjostrom
originally posted by stig-sjostrom