Heavenly Mistress

Story by ecchi_rebirth

I *think* I may have posted this at the F2 boards sometime ago, but, I want to share it with y'all too. I hope y'all like it.

Heavenly Mistress

The cold winds blew in from the sea in the tiny port town, flowing through the wide, stony streets, straight into the slave market. It chilled the bones of the naked slaves who stood upon the stage, being looked over, being auctioned to the various nobles and rich towns’ people.

At the far end of the stage, sitting wearily, hunched over and desperately trying to keep warm, was a young boy, who by all appearances was barely 11 years old. Long, scraggly blonde hair hung from his head like a great, tussled lion’s mane. His body was slender, almost bony, bearing deep bruises here and there. He was mostly ignored, and stayed silent and small, hoping no one would notice him.

Someone did notice him though. He did not see, but a lovely woman, bearing long snow-white hair that was neatly tied up high on her head, had her emerald eyes focused squarely upon him and was approaching him. She was a tower of a woman, taller than many in the throng of buyers. She was swathed in a light auburn colored dress, and even though it didn’t appear to allow a great range of motion, she seemed to flow in it, her movements quick and without hesitation.

The young boy quickly became aware that he was being spoken of, but paid it no mind. They had been trying to sell him on the slave market for over a year with no luck.

“You don’t want this dimwitted little husk,” he heard one of the sellers say. “Worthless he is.”

He knew what was coming. He curled tighter and tried to dive somewhere inside his soul, hoping it would be deep enough to ignore the blow. What was one more bruise at this point. His eyes clenched shut tightly, yet seconds ticked by and the expected blow never came.

His eyes opened and looked up through the blond bangs that hung over his eyes. Something long, thin and silvery glistened brilliantly in the sunlight.

With lightning quickness, the woman had drawn a long, razor sharp rapier from somewhere on her person and had the tip directly at the marketer’s throat.

“You will NOT touch this boy,” she said firmly. “I shall have him, no matter what the price.”

The boy couldn’t quite believe what was happening. He turned to face the woman, his blue-gray eyes peeking from under the thick blond locks. She flashed him a quick, yet warm and genuine smile.

“200 gold,” the seller snorted.

A moment later, the transaction was complete, and before the boy knew it, the woman had, with surprising ease, taken him into her arms, cradling him, his naked form wrapped in a thick shawl. The boy’s eyes were focused inquisitively upon her. She kissed his forehead, her gaze warm and reassuring.

“It will be alright, dear boy …. My name is Krissa … Krissa Vardon.”

“Krissa,” whimpered the boy. It was a sweet name.

“What is yours?” she asked as she continued onward, leaving the village.

The boy went silent as his eyes left her. He blinked as his mind went blank. Tears began to roll down his cheeks.

“I … don’t have one …”

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