Hadrian’s First Girl by Shelly Turner
HADRIAN’S FIRST GIRL A Chippewa Publishing/Lady Aibell Press Publication, July ...
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Hadrian’s First Girl by Shelly Turner
HADRIAN’S FIRST GIRL A Chippewa Publishing/Lady Aibell Press Publication, July 2006 Chippewa Publishing LLC P.O. Box 662 Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin 54729 Available Formats: Adobe Acrobat Reader (PDF) Other available formats: Palm Doc (PDB), Rocket/REB1100 (RB), Pocket PC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB), hiebook (KML), iSilo (PDB), Mobipocket (PRC), OEBFF Format (IMP), Microsoft Reader (LIT), (HTML). Hadrian’s First Girl Copyright © 2006 Shelly Turner Edited by Catherine Chant Cover Art by Djinn Proofed by Katherine Johnson ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book may not be reproduced in whole, or in part, by any means, without the written consent of the publisher. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination, or are fictitiously used. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental. WARNING: The contents of this book are intended for mature audiences 18 years of age and older only. Language, violence, and sexual situations may apply. PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.
Hadrian’s First Girl
Hadrian smiled wide as he glanced around his growing castle. The slaves revered him for being a firm, but gentle Master, and he felt certain the girls of the castle knew of his adoration for them; they all held a special place in his heart. But one particular slave left him throbbing with want, engulfed with insatiable desire. Of course, he cared for all his castle girls, but not this deeply. Amaya was a seductress, not only of his body, but also of his heart. Only Amaya flared his passion, for she was the one who had broken through the walls he had hid behind for so long. She had earned his affection with her honesty and devotion; nothing could stand in the way of his feelings for her. Hadrian sat in his high-backed chair, a black robe draped over his shoulders. Bidziil, his best friend and confident for many years, sat to his left. A petite cherry wood table between them held wine and glasses for the celebration. Hadrian smiled softly at his friend. Many slaves and Masters anticipated the night’s events. The castle had increased in population during the past couple of years. What had originally housed only two slaves now housed fifteen. Most of the slave girls in the castle had come to Hadrian wanting to learn about true submission. They wanted to surrender all and tame the burning that swirled deep in the pit of their stomachs. Hadrian never turned down any female slave who begged for entry to his castle as long as they were obedient and willing to learn the laws of his home. If the girls craved further education in the ways of a submissive, he was happy to teach them how to better serve him and any other Master who entered the castle as a guest. The girls trusted Hadrian to keep them safe, and Hadrian took this trust seriously. He would never allow his girls to fall into the hands of any man who desired to use them for sexual fulfillment, or who needed a beating post. A slave whose heart yearned for a Master needed so much more than the occasional erotic flare. They needed to be taught how to grow into their submissive nature. With time, most slaves succeeded on their path, unless they decided to leave the lifestyle altogether. Not many had, but there was an occasional few who could not handle the aspects of sharing a Master who dominated many. Tiva was the second slave to join Hadrian’s castle. She had come to him from another Master, Novi, at a high price. Tiva was not much of an obedient slave, yet she earned her keep by dancing for the guests and had never disrespected Hadrian or Bidziil. Eventually, she had become Bidziil’s slave after Hadrian failed to give her more than a cursory notice. True submission was never in this girl’s heart, but Hadrian could not bring himself to sell her to another Master who might harm her for her lack of obedience. Instead, Hadrian found humor in 1
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the rivalry between his lovely Amaya and the precocious Tiva. The girls bickered constantly. Although, Amaya never admitted to being jealous of Tiva, Hadrian saw it burning in her eyes. **** Amaya stood before her Master on shaky legs. Her breathing came in rough bursts and her palms were sweaty. Her day had finally come and excitement filled her heart. She had been waiting two years for Hadrian to make her his first girl. Now she would be his in more ways than the other girls in the castle. This meant so much to Amaya. Just the thought of being the one he would call upon when he needed a slave companion to ease his burning passion left heat rushing to her cheeks, and moisture gathering at her slave heat. Amaya kneeled before Hadrian, thighs spread wide, and head held high. Her eyes lowered as a small smile tugged across her face. She had looked forward to this day for so long that her joy was barely containable. Her heart flip-flopped in her chest. Tears stung her eyes, but she forced them back along with a small sob that threatened to escape. “Amaya, you may stand,” Hadrian said, smiling appreciatively down at her. The gleam in his eyes caused her heart to pound. Amaya stood on her bare feet and smoothed the yellow satin cloth that covered her body. It fit snugly against her curves and tied behind her neck, beneath the gold collar adorned with Hadrian Katar’s initials. Amaya’s legs quaked, and the small silver bands embracing her ankles made a tinkling sound. She pushed her long red locks back off her shoulder as her cheeks continued to flush in anticipation of the night’s events. Many people had shown up for the celebration. Several slaves kneeled at their Masters’ feet. The Masters sat in high-backed, velvet maroon chairs like Hadrian’s, sipping wine served on the tables between the chairs. Laughter filled the room as everyone waited for the festivities to begin. “Amaya, it is time,” Hadrian said. Amaya’s heart beat swiftly, nervousness swirled through her. “Dance for me from your heart and soul,” he continued. “Let me see your love for me.” His words sent a deep comfort through her, as he pointed to the middle of the floor where Amaya was to begin her dance. A soft drum pounded in Amaya’s ears, filling her with confidence, as everyone watched with intense interest. Her heart fluttered, and she attempted to hold back the tears that threatened to flow down her cheeks. Amaya sat on her heels and rested her body against the floor. Her body ached to move as a fiery liquid blazed in her lower stomach. She concentrated on the beating of her heart, the rhythm of love she held for her Master. It was a beat that spoke true and was more erotic than anything playing on a stereo. Amaya gradually rose to her feet. Her hands seductively traced the curves of her body in slow motion. She circled around the Masters, her head held high and her arms spread wide. She floated on the floor as her heart thumped with passion for Master Hadrian. Amaya casually made her way into the middle of the floor and lowered herself to the ground. She arched her back against the wooden foundation, tears streaming down her face. Her body filled with need and longing for Hadrian’s touch. She rolled onto her hands and knees, and crawled slowly toward her Master. Her tears blurred her vision as they rolled down her warm cheeks. She sat before Hadrian with her knees spread wide and her hands resting on her upper thigh
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close to her slave heat. Her body ached, craving his hands upon her skin. She smiled softly at Hadrian, then stood and twirled before him while embracing her body with her arms. Within seconds, Hadrian had sliced her clothing from her body, allowing it to fall to the floor and reveal her silky, tanned flesh. Her body surged as she continued dancing before him, awaiting new clothing that only he could provide as her Master. Heat soared through her insides. The beating of the soft drums quieted. Amaya fell to her knees, resting her behind against her heels. She extended her upper body forward across the floor in front of Hadrian. She wanted him to see and feel her complete submission to him, and only him. Her hands crossed on the floor above her head, waiting to be bound and taken by her Master. Sobs escaped her lips as the room became silent. “Amaya, rise and stand before me, girl,” Hadrian said in a soft, passionate tone. Amaya stood, heart pounding and knees wobbling. She smiled at her Master and one true love. She had never loved anyone as she did him. Her existence was purely for him. He owned her heart and soul; this was the passion of a true slave. Hadrian rose to his feet. His dark, muscular body left Amaya breathless as her eyes rested on him. Many slaves longed for him, but it seemed he still only had eyes for Amaya, although admitting it to her was not something he would do. She respected his dominance over her and understood he could not allow too many emotions to escape him. Amaya felt his love for her, yet he never revealed this with words. Hadrian’s hands were hot against Amaya’s skin as he removed the gold collar from her neck. She inhaled deeply. His eyes stared into hers, leaving her longing for his kiss, his touch, anything he offered her. A fiery yearning consumed her. Amaya could barely contain her excitement when Hadrian reached under a silk cloth and revealed her new collar. The gold twinkled in the dimly lit room. Two hearts with diamonds in their centers were engraved in the gold, one on each side of the collar. The inscription Property of Hadrian Kartar was centered between the hearts. A heart-shaped lock dangled from the middle, while three smaller hearts hung from dainty golden chains attached to the lock. Amaya held back the tears that threatened to fall as Hadrian placed the collar around her neck and locked it. His hands settled on her shoulders and sent flames soaring through her body that settled in the pit of her stomach. “Thank you, Master,” she said with a sob. “You have earned it, girl.” He returned her smile. Hadrian reached to the back of his chair and retrieved a silky, red dress to drape over her body. The material fit her form snugly, revealing the top of her breasts, and hung just low enough to cover her sex. “Amaya, the first girl of my castle,” Hadrian stated, raising his glass of wine to the many witnesses of the ceremony. Applause filled the room, and Amaya smiled before kneeling once more at her Master’s feet. **** Hadrian’s heart raced within his chest, joy filled him knowing Amaya was worthy of the night’s celebration. He wanted so badly to take her to the floor and have her body beneath his, to take pleasure from her that, without a doubt, she would give to him unselfishly. He needed to feel her, to touch her, but for the moment he had to focus on the guests he’d invited to witness the ceremony.
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A man he hadn’t seen before caught his stare. The man stood in the shadows at the far right corner of the room. He was bony, around five foot-seven, with dark circles around his eyes. Apparently he was not one for taking time to care for his body’s needs and nutrition. His dull, blond hair cascaded down his back. “Bidziil, who is that over there?” Hadrian tilted his head in the stranger’s direction. “Is he a Master of another castle? I don’t recall inviting him.” The man nodded at Hadrian and gave a scant smile, but there was something sinister in the man’s eyes. “I do not know,” Bidziil said. “I have never seen him before, but certainly he would not be here if not invited by someone you know.” “Please help me keep an eye on him. There is something about him I do not trust.” Hadrian forced aside the urge to immediately remove the stranger from his castle. “You know I will. You worry too much.” Bidziil’s demeanor was calm, his eyes soft. The celebration continued deep into the night. Laughter and joy of many Masters and their slaves filled the room. The castle girls served the Masters and danced. Eventually, the guests began to leave, bidding their good-byes and congratulating Amaya on earning her new title, one that very few slaves received. Amaya blushed at the praise and returned to her Master’s feet, showing everyone her commitment to him. Hadrian smiled softly, running his fingers through her hair. His heart swelled for her. She had managed to give him her all and submit to him in every way that a slave should. She never hesitated to do as he demanded, nor did she complain or whine about difficult tasks. Finally, the room emptied, leaving Hadrian alone with his slave. “You were wonderful tonight, girl. Do you know what your responsibilities are to me now?” He wanted to be certain Amaya knew what would be expected of the first girl of his castle. “Yes, Master, and I am thoroughly happy to be of service to you. I now have many responsibilities, but you will always be my first priority.” Amaya spoke of love, trust, and honor for her Master. “Retire for the night, then. You have had a long day. I will be up to see you in an hour.” Hadrian spoke softly. He was certain that Amaya sensed what he wanted from her. **** Amaya’s heart fluttered with love. Hadrian was her everything, and now she had become a huge part of his life. Amaya knew that he would never sell her, not his first girl. Although Hadrian had never told her, she knew deep in her heart that he loved her, and no one would be able to convince her otherwise. However, she couldn’t deny it hurt when he spoke such words to the other slaves. She trusted he had his reasons, and she must not question his actions lest she feel his wrath. Amaya glided toward her room, her heart fluttering as she hummed softly to herself. Her life had changed so much since she first entered the castle. She still shivered at the thought of her first punishment, but by pleasing her Master she had been able to avoid any further whippings. Hadrian’s touch still sent fire soaring through her. Her cheeks heated at the thought of her Master’s hands against her skin. Amaya continued on along the hallway, deep in thought about her one true love, her Master. Her eyes adjusted automatically to the dim light of the candles in silver sconces that lined the
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wall, but something didn’t feel right. Chills raced up Amaya’s spine. She’d always trusted her intuition, and this time it was stronger than ever. The hall reeked of men’s cologne. It was a scent that stung her eyes, making her want to sneeze. Definitely not something Hadrian, or Bidziil would’ve worn. No other man was permitted in the west wing. Her heart hammered in her chest. She turned on her heels to race back to Hadrian’s side, but it was too late. The intruder grabbed her by the arm and thrust her to the floor. Amaya kicked and scratched at him, but couldn’t wriggle free from his death-like grip. She screamed out seconds before a thick, cloth gag was tied securely over her mouth. Fear flooded her. Her eyes burnt with tears. Her whole body began to tremble. The man moved with swiftness. He bound Amaya’s ankles together with a heavy leather band. Then he fastened her wrists behind her back in the same manner. She was as helpless as a trapped animal. There was no way she could escape this madman now. **** Anger and rage flooded through Hadrian. He knew that something would happen tonight to ruin the beauty of the ceremony. His heart thumped wildly in his chest as he ran up the stairs, taking two at a time. He screamed out Amaya’s name time and again only to be left with no sound other than the pounding of his heart. Amaya’s scream was still echoing in his mind when he charged into her room. The door slammed against the wall as he scanned the room for his slave. Fear devoured him; losing his most prized slave would ruin him. He needed her body and pure heart as his sanctuary. Once again he had done something to cause her pain without thinking it through first. This mistake was much worse than the whipping he’d ordered two years ago. Hadrian sounded the alarm, calling for Bidziil and all of the slaves to return to the first floor ballroom. He needed help searching for Amaya. There was too much ground to cover alone. How could he have let her slip away like that? Was he not Amaya’s protector as well as her Master? Hadrian grew impatient at the time he was wasting waiting for those he’d beckoned to arrive. Finally, everyone was there, and he addressed Bidziil first. “Have you seen Amaya?” Worry controlled his every thought. “No, I assumed she was with you, completing the first girl’s binding ritual.” “I heard her scream in terror, and when I got to her room she was not there.” Hadrian rubbed his head with his hand. How could I’ve let this happen? I can’t lose her, not now! “Master, may this one speak freely?” Tiva asked. “Yes, girl, tell me what you know.” Hadrian regretted speaking so harshly to her, but time was valuable and he needed answers now. “I saw a strange man here tonight. He was watching Amaya. I thought he was admiring her, but he was not a Master the girls and I are familiar with.” “Yes, we all knew, girl. I should’ve acted when I first saw him. It is not your fault.” Hadrian forced a thin smile in an attempt to relieve Tiva of any guilt she harbored over this incident. Truly it was not her or any of the girls’ faults that a stranger had invaded the castle. “We should head out,” Bidziil said, patting Hadrian on the back. “There’s no time to be wasted if someone had taken Amaya off the grounds.” “Yes, you are right, my friend. We need to find her. I have a feeling that things are not so
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pleasant for her right now.” He turned back to his slaves. “Tiva, you and the girls keep watch for anything out of the ordinary.” Hadrian shot a look to Bidziil. “Let’s call upon the other Masters that were here tonight and see if they know anything about that stranger. I swear this rogue will pay if anything happens to Amaya.” Hadrian’s eyes stung with tears. He would be lost completely if Amaya never returned. **** Amaya gagged on the tight rope placed around her mouth. She attempted to scream, but only managed a small high-pitched squeak at the back of her throat. She sat chained inside a black box van. Her heart beat ferociously in her chest as the thought of what would become of her. Her jaw felt swollen and tender from the blows her abductor had struck to force her to keep still. Her stomach twisted into knots as fear flowed through her. She couldn’t believe what was happening. She had been so dedicated to Hadrian, so happy in his castle, and now God only knew where she would end up. “Stop making that noise, before I give you something to squeal about,” the man said, obviously irritated by the sounds of her struggle. Amaya quieted herself to a soft whimper. She couldn’t handle anymore of the man’s abuse. Every part of her felt sore. She attempted to focus on the direction they were heading. Everything was dark in the vehicle, but she paid close attention to the turns, left…right…right again, on and on for what seemed an eternity. Her wrists and ankles stung as the restraints rubbed at her delicate skin. The man pulled out a cell phone and began dialing a number. Without bothering with pleasantries, the kidnapper spoke gruffly to the person he’d called. “I have her, Sir. Where would you like for me to drop her off?” Amaya closed her eyes and prayed Hadrian would find her before it was too late. Did he even know she was missing yet? She wanted sleep to take her away from this nightmare, but her mind was much too alert to rest. Concern and fear filled her every nerve. She wasn’t sure if she would live or die at this stranger’s hands, but either way, suffering would be involved. The brutality of her abduction was more than enough proof that these men who wanted her would not be kind. Soon, the long drive came to an end. Amaya couldn’t be sure, but it felt as if hours had passed. The van halted abruptly in a darkened driveway, and the engine switched off. The back doors clicked open. Amaya blinked at the silhouette before her and stared into the eyes of the man who must have ordered her abduction. She couldn’t believe it. She had never fully trusted this man, but she had respected him—her Master would have had it no other way. He was her Master’s good friend. Anger heated her skin, tamping down the fear. How could a man Hadrian trusted so much betray their friendship this way? **** Hadrian loaded his gun and headed out the door to meet with the Masters from the area who had returned to his castle to help find Amaya. “Thank you all for coming so quickly. I’m not sure where to start…” Hadrian quickly dropped his unsure tone, wanting to appear strong. “…but I think we should try to contact Novi. His phone lines are not working, so we will stop by there first.”
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Moments later, the men piled in several vehicles, they drove toward Novi’s castle. Hadrian feared for Amaya’s safety. He had to find her; there was no other option. He couldn’t lose her, especially when there was so much he had not told her yet. Hadrian would defend her with his life if he had to. The drive to Novi’s seemed infinitely long. Daylight would break before they reached their destination. Hadrian’s body ached from exhaustion, and his mind remained filled with distress. He hoped with all of his heart that those responsible would return Amaya to him untouched. She was so innocent when she came to his castle, and in the past two years she had only known him. The thought of another man touching her intimately left him desperate for retaliation. The sun rose in the sky, and heat poured down on the vehicles. The trip had taken much longer than expected due to morning traffic. Hadrian sighed thankfully when they pulled into the large circular driveway at the front of Novi’s home. His friend’s house was large, gray and dark. He’d never seen the home in such a dead silence this time of day. Chills raced up Hadrian’s spine as several cars followed them into the drive. The men stepped from the vehicles, awaiting Hadrian’s instructions. “What do you want to do now?” Bidziil asked with raised eyebrows. “Something is wrong here. Why has no one come to greet us? That is how it’s always been since I met Novi.” Hadrian’s stomach churned with anxiety. He rubbed his forehead and approached the front door. After knocking several times, he tried the knob and found the door securely locked. Hadrian sighed heavily. The scent of foul play was all around him. Novi had a butler, why was the man not answering? There had never been so much silence as there was right now. “We need to search the property,” Hadrian said, heading back to the crowd of men he had brought with him. “No one’s answering and we don’t have time to waste. There is too much at stake.” The men spread out on the property. Smaller than Hadrian’s estate, it shouldn’t take them long to conduct a thorough search, he thought. The men broke into groups. Now there were at least two missing people to worry about. An hour later, Bidziil approached Hadrian. “There is no one here,” he said, eyes filled with worry. “The place seems deserted.” “Then we must break into the house. Obviously something has happened here. Maybe something inside will give us the answers we’re looking for. I’m sensing something amiss here that is too intense to ignore.” Hadrian rubbed the sudden chill from his arms as the hair on the back of his neck rose. “Breaking into a man’s house because of a feeling you have—” Screams that seemed to come from nowhere cut off Bidziil’s words. Hadrian cringed at the sound of the high-pitched cries that pulled his gaze to the grass below his feet. All he could see in his mind was his beautiful Amaya crying out for his help. “Where in the hell did that come from?” one of the men asked, staring at Hadrian’s feet. “Amaya, it’s her!” He dropped to the ground and listened for more sounds. “It’s an underground passage. There must be a door hidden somewhere. Find it, now!” Heat rose to Hadrian’s cheeks. It didn’t matter how much he attempted to control his anger, it threatened to take over all rational thought. The men raced back toward the house. Even though it was not far off, Hadrian felt as if he would never reach it, like everything was happening in slow motion. At the front door, Bidziil used a loose brick from the walkway to break the glass panel on the door. He reached in and turned the lock, allowing them access to the home.
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Hadrian took a deep breath, afraid of what might lie ahead. What state would they find Amaya in? “Men, be ready,” he said “Don’t let your guard down.” The men slipped one by one into the house. Black curtains draped the windows. Dust particles floated in the air. There was one leather chair against the right wall, a small television on the left. Many scratches marked up the wooden floor. The ceiling fan squeaked as it circled. Hadrian never expected ‘the great Novi,’ who had always seemed to have answers to everything, to live in such sparse surroundings. He had visited Novi a month earlier, and the place had been much different, more lavish. Now, all of the masculine and tasteful furnishings were gone. It was practically an empty room. “Everyone spread out,” Hadrian said. “Keep your eyes peeled for a door that will lead us beneath the earth.” The men fanned out from Hadrian’s side. Hadrian opened a couple doors in the living room, only to find closet space—empty closets at that. “Hadrian, over here,” one of the men called from the kitchen. Hadrian ran to where the man was standing before a wooden door that had three small concrete steps in front of it. Vodka bottles lined the chrome counters. Dirty dishes sat piled up in the sink, leaving a decaying odor. Hadrian opened the door, and glanced in. All was dark, but Amaya’s whimpers echoed up the stairwell. All of the men crowded silently around the door, waiting for Hadrian’s next move. Hadrian stepped through the entryway. He ran his hands along the wall in search of a banister to help guide them safely down the stairs into the blackness. Once he found the railing, he signaled the men to follow. Hadrian took each step cautiously, trying to avoid falling as well as keep their approach quiet. At the bottom of the stairs a long, dark and dusty hallway stretched out before them. The men used their hands as guides to feel their way forward. It took everything Hadrian had to keep from running as fast as he could to reach Amaya’s side. Her distant moans, her cries from obvious pain, left him on the verge of insanity. A glow from what he assumed to be candlelight filled the far end of the corridor and helped guide the way. The men drew closer with each step. Hadrian motioned for everyone to keep behind him and he crept forward. He hid in the shadows as the hall opened into a small room hewn out of the earth. A male voice issuing threats sent a cold dagger of fear through him. It could not be! He had assumed Novi had been abducted as well, that he would be saving two people, but the more Hadrian listened, the more clear the truth became. Novi was the abductor. Amaya’s screams filled Hadrian’s ears. He clenched his fists as his heart raced. He jerked forward, wanting to be by Amaya’s side, only to have Bidziil’s strong hands on his arm yank him backward. “Don’t rush in like a fool,” Bidziil whispered. “You’ll end up getting yourself and Amaya killed.” His friend was right. Hadrian had to pace himself or everyone’s life would be in danger. It took everything in him to keep his thoughts focused and not allow his emotions to rule his actions. Amaya was his, and he could not stand the thought of someone else staking claim on her. “Shut the hell up, slave,” Novi ordered. “I’m your new Master, and if you wish to survive this ordeal, you’ll keep that trap of yours sealed tight.” His words sounded slurred, as if he had
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too much to drink recently. Hadrian’s blood boiled. His anger grew so deep it was on the verge of erupting with the intensity of a volcano. He peered around the corner once more. His mind reeled at the view. He had never felt so much hatred toward one person as he did at that very moment. His eyes stung with tears as he stared at Amaya, bound and strung up like a sacrificial offering on a piece of metal fencing. How could he have let this man get his hands on Amaya? How could Novi bind her in such a way in order to coerce her submission? Submission and respect could not be forced. Why would any Master wish for a slave that did not honor him to her fullest ability? Amaya’s face was bruised and red with welts. Her right eye was swollen shut. Her hair clung to the sides of her face and was caked with dirt where she had obviously been dragged across the earthen floor. Her lips were pale, dry, and cracked. Cuts lined her forehead. Her whole body shook in fear against the fence. Hadrian ached to take her pain away, to whisk her away from this miserable place. Hadrian scanned the dimly lit room for anyone that could have been there helping Novi, but Novi was alone. He worked clumsily in front of a brick hearth where a fire blazed. Hadrian’s gut wretched when Novi turned around. The man held out a branding iron with his initials forged on the end for Amaya’s terrified eyes to see. The metal glowed red from the nearby fire, and Novi laughed like the devil himself. Amaya tossed her head back and forth in protest. The action alone would not do her any good, but she could not just take the branding without some sort of struggle. Movement caught her eye and she stared, calm for a brief moment, at the doorway to the hall. Someone stood in the shadows, giving her a moment of hope. Then there was more movement. Several figures attempted to stay hidden in the shadows against the wall as they advanced up the corridor in slow strides. Her heart jumped. Someone had come to help her…or perhaps to help Novi hurt her. Amaya screamed and fought against the restraints with renewed effort. Her body was weak, but she could not give in. She had to survive long enough for someone to save her from this madman. All of her pain was momentarily forgotten when Hadrian came into view. His eyes flared with anger. His teeth clenched tightly together, refining his jawbone. She recognized the men with him from the castle celebrations. Her heart raced and joy filled her. She knew he would come. The fear of him being too late vanished. Amaya’s body ached from Novi’s abuse, but she remained focused on her escape. Soon Hadrian would defeat Novi and release her. Now that he had seen what was happening with his own eyes, nothing would stop Hadrian. Many times she had seen her Master angry, but never like this. While hatred burned in the depths of his eyes, his movements were graceful, like a panther hunting its prey. In a moment she would be reunited with her rightful Master. The men assembled behind Novi quietly and unnoticed. “Novi, put the iron down!” Hadrian growled. “You will not touch her!” Hot rage burned within him. Never before had he been angry enough to kill someone. He wanted this man’s blood to seep into the earth. How dare Novi touch the woman he loved, his first girl. “Hadrian, do you think that you can take her from me after all I have done for you?” Novi slurred. “You owe me, and Amaya is my price. Now consider your debts paid in full.” “I paid you more than what you deserved for Tiva. I owe you nothing more. You should
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know by now that you can force a slave to kneel, but you cannot make her submit with all of her heart to you. She will not respect you. Amaya is already spoken for. She is mine, Novi!” Hadrian wanted to end this without risking the lives of the men who had unselfishly accompanied him here. An extended battle would do no one any good; injuries were likely. Although Novi deserved death, Hadrian had to avoid any rash decisions. Innocent lives had to be protected. Novi turned toward Hadrian and his men. The hot iron stretched out ready to singe someone’s skin. He brandished the iron like a mad swordsman. The men jumped backward. Without hesitation, Hadrian pulled his gun from its confines. “Novi, don’t make me use this. Drop the iron. Amaya doesn’t deserve this. She’s done nothing wrong. Let her go now, and we can end this peacefully.” “You think you deserve her? You aren’t cut out to be a Master. You’re too easy on them. You have to treat your slaves like the objects they are.” Novi grabbed a fistful of Amaya’s hair to emphasize his point. Her plaintiff scream ripped open Hadrian’s heart. Sweat trickled down his face as he trained the gun on Novi. “Novi, let her go and stop this ridiculous contempt. Amaya has belonged to me for two years, and I’m nowhere near giving her up. I will not allow you to brand her in such a demonic way.” Novi swung the iron around toward Amaya. The hot metal hovered only inches away from her delicate skin. “Don’t do this!” Hadrian screamed. “Your brand on her won’t make Amaya yours. Only her true submission can do that.” “Then I will make her submit!” The edge of the hot iron grazed the side of Amaya’s hip. Her screams of agony rang out through the earth. Hadrian fired his gun three times. Novi fell. The iron clanged to the ground next to him and sizzled as it touched the pool of crimson forming around Novi’s body. A wretched stench filled the air. Hadrian ran toward Amaya. He was responsible for all of Amaya’s torment. If he had only watched over her more carefully…. He glanced over her petite fame and took in the many bruises and cuts. He unlatched the cuffs, released her from the bars that held her prisoner and brought her into his arms. He gently kissed her forehead. Amaya immediately rested her head against his shoulder; her body relaxed against his. During the drive home, Hadrian watched Amaya move in her sleep and did his best to reassure her with soft words and a gentle touch when she groaned out in pain. He hoped his caress would offer some comfort until they reached the castle. Night came quickly, and Hadrian had never been more thankful for having Amaya at his side. He could not help feeling he was completely responsible for each mark that scarred her. The one on her hip hurt him the most. Maybe if he had acted quicker when Novi brought the iron closer to her, she would not have the sloppy ‘N’ burned into her flesh. Luckily, the burn was not deep, and if taken care of properly, it would not scar. Hadrian breathed a sigh of relief once the castle came into view. Amaya was now safe, and no one would ever hurt her again. He would never take his eyes off of her, if that was what it took. After thanking the men for their help, Hadrian carried Amaya toward the entrance of the
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castle. Several females lined the doorway with concern etched on their faces. “Get some hot water, sponges, and aloe soap and take them up to Amaya’s room,” Hadrian said. “Bring some towels and salve as well. Tiva, in an hour, bring up some broth and cold water.” He crept up the stairs with Amaya in his arms. Even in such a state, she was stunning. Tears welled up inside of Hadrian as he stared down at her. He hurt for her. For such a beautiful, submissive slave, she had endured much torment due to his complacency and neglect. Hadrian reached the bedroom, remaining steady as he turned the handle and entered the room. He gently laid Amaya on the full-size bed. He brushed her hair away from her face and gazed at her lovingly. “Amaya, are you okay, girl?” he asked, still uncertain if she would blame him for the kidnapping. “Yes, your girl will be fine, Master,” she said in a scratchy whisper. Her body shivered. “Master, I will bathe Amaya if you wish,” Motisha said. The soft-spoken slave with dark brown hair tied back with a ribbon carried the items Hadrian had requested into the room and waited for his decision. “No, I will do it. You may retire now, girl.” Hadrian’s voice shook with concern. He felt completely responsible for what had happened to Amaya, and only he would care for her. He had to be the one to bring Amaya back to health. No one would ever touch her again, and if someone had the nerve to even look at her wrong, they would most certainly suffer at his hands. Motisha closed the door behind her as she left the room. Hadrian undressed Amaya slowly. Heat flooded him in desire and passion. He felt guilty for wanting her as she was. Amaya was in pain and taking her to his bed furs was the last thing he should have been thinking about. Hadrian reached for the hot water and began to bathe Amaya’s injuries, careful not to cause her anymore pain than absolutely necessary. Her body gleamed in the moonlit room. Her beauty astounded him. Delicately, he traced the soapy sponge over her curves. Such a beautiful and obedient slave did not deserve such cruelty. Her hair tangled around her face and stuck to the wounds. Small groans escaped her as he removed the strands with a tender hand. How would he possibly get through the next few days without going completely mad? He hated himself for what happened. Amaya must hate him, too. Shortly after he finished bathing her, broth arrived along with cold water. Amaya drank thirstily. Her tense expression softened as the broth slid down her throat, and she looked a little more comfortable. “Master, you should go to bed and get some rest,” she said in a soft, low voice. A smile curved at the corner of her mouth. “No, girl, I will not leave you. You get your rest so that you are well again.” Hadrian knew Amaya would not argue with him. She always obeyed his orders, and he cared so deeply for her. **** During the next week, while Amaya’s injuries healed, Hadrian helped her eat and adjusted her pillows to keep her resting in comfort. He spent a lot of time cleaning her wounds. Her hip was healing well, but he was wrong about it not scarring. She would always have a slight mark there from Novi’s iron. This did not make him love her any less. To hold the markings of another Master was looked down on by many and would prevent a Master from selling his slave at a decent price. But to Hadrian it only spoke of another battle Amaya had won. He was exhausted
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from sleeping in the chair night after night, awaiting the complete recovery of his first girl, but when she awoke calling out his name it made every minute worth it. He had to be certain that she received the tenderness she deserved. Through all this, he realized just how much Amaya meant to him. Hadrian had never yearned so much for the soft words and gentle touch of a slave until Amaya had come into his life. She was his world and had shown much commitment to him. He needed Amaya well—needed her touch. At last, Amaya grew well again. Her body healed, but her nights remained restless, plagued with nightmares that would leave her crying in the dark. “Master, will you come lay with me?” Amaya asked one night, her voice sweet and loving as she spoke to him. Her body was now well enough to handle the intimate touch of her Master’s hands. “Girl, I do not want to cause you pain, now rest,” Hadrian said. Passion was clear in his eyes. Amaya knew that with a little persuasion she would be able to tempt him. “Master, I am fine now. You have not been resting well at night. You should come lay with me. You have been good to me, and now I want to show you my appreciation.” Butterflies danced in her stomach when Hadrian lifted her into his strong arms. “My bed is bigger.” He carried her effortlessly into his room. Amaya’s love grew stronger with each gentle touch from Hadrian. He had been so patient with her. She realized just how lucky she was to have a Master like him. Never had Hadrian allowed a slave into his bed. Before this night, their encounters had been in her quarters or in the garden. He had never offered her his bed. Amaya knew she was special to him, and only wished he would admit it. He was so stubborn in his ways. Confessing he cared for her had to be one of the most difficult things he would ever do. Still the hope remained. One day he would speak of his love, and until that day his actions would tell all. Hadrian folded the blue and gold comforter back and laid Amaya onto the silky black sheets. He pulled the blanket over her and lightly kissed her forehead. Then he scooted in close to her, beneath the comfort of the blanket. Amaya stared at him, wanting his touch, his kiss. She needed him more than she ever thought was possible. She knew the bond between them would survive anything the world handed them. “Master, I love you,” Amaya said, allowing the velvety words to run off her tongue before she did not have the nerve to speak them. “You have been so kind to me. I do not know how I can thank you enough.” “You do not need to thank me. It is my fault this happened, and it is my job to protect you. I failed you, Amaya.” His eyes gleamed with tears. “Girl, why didn’t you simply pretend to submit to him? It might have saved you a lot of pain.” Amaya’s pulse accelerated. She had not seen Hadrian so emotional in all the time she had been a part of his castle. His compassion cut her heart like a sharp blade. He should not blame himself for something he did not do. “Master, I couldn’t submit to Novi. It would’ve been disgraceful to your honor.” “I don’t know how you endured all the pain without hating me in the end.” Tears rolled down Hadrian’s cheeks. “Master, I am well again. No longer do I feel pain or hurt from a simple touch. I have been
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in bed for so long now that I am uncertain I can walk.” She ran her hand along the side of his face. “Master, you must allow me to move around. There is no way you could have known Novi’s intentions; he was your friend.” She knew Hadrian was only trying to protect her, yet she could not live her life lying in bed while he watched over her like as a parent would their ill child. Her heart ached for the way he was punishing himself for something he had no control over. Without thinking, Amaya pressed her lips against Hadrian’s shoulder. Normally, she would have requested to do such a thing, but she could no longer resist touching him. Hadrian moaned roughly at her touch, stirring flames of passion deep within her—a fiery desire so wild that the ocean would not have enough water to extinguish it. Amaya allowed her tears to flow—tears of joy, love, and devotion. She needed him more than she could ever express, and now it was up to him to take what she so freely offered. Hadrian slid his rough hands over her bare breasts. Her skin heated instantly from the contact. Amaya understood the first girl ritual—she would be bound to her Master’s bed for his complete personal use, expecting to receive no pleasure of her own —but she did not care. Her Master’s touch alone would be enough to satisfy her. Hadrian lifted himself over her and kissed her neck gently. His body was hard against hers, silently demanding her to submit to his desire. “Master, the ritual,” Amaya reminded him. Occasionally in the past he would test her obedience by not following his rules, waiting to see if she would correct him. Never had she disappointed him, and she could not start now. “There is no way your body can handle such torment right now,” Hadrian said, a serious look on his face. “Just this once I will break my own rule to keep you comfortable. I will not cause you more pain than you have already endured. I know you are mine, and so do you. You proved yourself by not submitting to Novi when he demanded your submission with force.” Amaya’s heart jumped in her chest. His words were so loving and kind. “Spread your legs for me, girl. I want to feel you.” His words were deep and husky. Amaya gasped as she felt his hard shaft press up against her sex. She wanted to scream out to him. She wanted him to take her body with his and fill her with pleasure that was certain to come. She watched his body ripple in its magnificent design. His large hands caressed her lovingly. Amaya inhaled sharply as his tongue swirled around her nipple, leaving it erect from his touch. Her heartbeat quickened as his hands glided over her skin, and his fingers swirled in the soft curls above her silky folds. His mouth traced the curves of her body until he reached her slave heat. Hadrian’s tongue danced over the small nub directly below her curls. Moans of pleasure escaped her as she viewed her Master taking her off into an erotic world full of love—a world she belonged in with him, where only the two of them existed. Amaya grasped Hadrian’s shoulders, craving to touch the only man she had ever trusted. She arched herself up to him, offering herself to her Master. She wanted him to take her. She needed to feel him erase all of the bad and replace it with his love, desire, and passion. Liquid fire danced in her stomach, a burning blaze that only he could tame. She stared into Hadrian’s eyes, his desire unmistakable while he gazed down at her. Amaya closed her eyes and allowed the delicious sensation of her Master’s fingers touching her intimate folds to take her over. No longer could she contain her gasps of pleasure when his fingers entered her. Her body quaked beneath his touch.
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Amaya felt Hadrian’s body tighten as it reacted to her sensual response. He groaned huskily. Amaya submerged herself in the pleasure, enjoying the sounds and movement from Hadrian. The fact that he needed her, wanted her, sent spasms throughout her body. Amaya spread herself wider, allowing him full access to her sex. She thrust herself toward him, hoping that he would fill her with his hard member. Amaya moaned softly when Hadrian lifted himself above her. His hard shaft pressed against her opening; his manhood caressed her silky folds. He entered her with unhurried movements, forcing himself deeper within the caverns of her sex. His every movement left her gasping for more, begging for release of the blazing liquid that stirred within her. She met his every movement with her own. His body quickened, muscles rippling as his masculine form became covered in a silky sheen. Amaya screamed out in pleasure as he filled her. She held onto his shoulders as he thrust himself deep into her. Hadrian’s low growls sent heat soaring to her sex. She moaned as the climax took over her body, leaving her wanting him to thrust himself deeper inside of her and devour her very essence. Her body met his movements to perfection. Amaya’s mind spun as liquid heat began to race through her once more. Her cries of passion filled the room. She latched onto Hadrian, wrapping her legs around him as he continually thrust himself into the chamber of her sex. Low growls escaped Hadrian. His body shook slightly as she milked him within her sheath. Longing overwhelmed her, churning until flames of desire consumed her. A few moments later when Amaya had finally caught her breath, and her legs quit shaking from the heated passion, she rested her head on Hadrian’s chest. She reveled in this tender moment with her Master. Tears stung her eyes, but she smiled as love filled her heart and soul. “Master, I am very thankful that I belong to you.” Amaya slid her nails delicately over Hadrian’s bare muscled chest. “Amaya, I am the one that should thank you, for holding so much trust in me. You came to me as a slave, a servant in my castle. You have shown your trust in me, and you have shown your obedience. I couldn’t ask for a more precious gift. In some castles, slaves are treated as mere objects. I have learned that no Master can bring a slave to such obedience without loving them as well.” Hadrian lowered his head and wiped at his eyes, obviously trying to control his emotions. “Master, take what you wish from me. I am yours to do with as you see fit. This I give to you as my Master and protector.” Amaya’s vision blurred as her own tears formed. “Amaya, I love you, girl. You have driven me to complete insanity a time or two, but damn, I love you. You stole my heart the moment you gave me yours. You are my first girl, my lover, and my slave. This is how I bind myself to you. Being first girl will never be easy when you must train the other slaves in all aspects of pleasing, but I assure you my love for you is genuine and never given without good reason to do so.” Hadrian’s fingers played in Amaya’s hair as he spoke. “Thank you, Master. I am completely happy now,” Amaya whispered, sobs escaping her. Hadrian loved her--truly loved her. After all of this time he finally said it. His love was not easily given, and trust not easily found, yet with Hadrian she knew the love would only grow. Ecstasy would only deepen, and her submission would grow stronger. Her heart would only belong to him and his only to her. “Amaya, tell me you love me,” Hadrian begged with a groan. “I love you, Master Hadrian,” she sobbed.
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“I love you too, my first girl.” Hadrian lifted her face to his and kissed her deeply. The burning flames renewed, ecstasy floated through the air as Hadrian and Amaya submerged themselves into their erotic passion once more.
THE END
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About the Author Shelly Turner Shelly Turner resides in a small town in Texas. She has five wonderful children, three girls and two boys. She is married to Jason who has supported her through many late nights of writing and has become her stepping stone into a world where dreams really do become reality.
Our authors love to hear from their readers! You can write to Shelly here: Shelly Turner c/o Chippewa Publishing LLC P.O. Box 662 Chippewa Falls, Wisconsin 54729
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Lady Aibell Press http://www.ladyaibell.com a division of Chippewa Publishing LLC Catching Your Dreams of Fiction! http://www.chippewapublishing.com
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