Later With Karden

An hour later, Vrasha met Karden in the halls outside of her rooms. As promised, the minister of the interior had come alone. He was wearing fine, silken clothes with glittering decorations that swept along the front and back. The sort of thing you would expect from some meek courtier in the court of a king. But the fine clothes did little to distract from the fact that Karden had the body of a soldier. He was large and tough, with muscular arms that promised power and strength on the field. Vrasha had realised this before but somehow it felt different now. She felt a flush of heat as she caught sight of him and quickly looked away.

"Ah, my lady." He said with a smile. "I see you decided to wear the blue dress today? And you have done away with the ponytail?"

"Y-yes," Vrasha said, hating herself for sounding so anxious. Like a schoolgirl with a crush! But something about Karden was different from yesterday. Every time she looked up at him she would flash back to her previous fantasy and feel an uncomofrtable wetness between her legs. She could almost imagine the collar around her throat!

"Are you all right? Your face looks flushed."

"I'm just a little hot," She said. "You said that you would give me a tour of the well?"

"Yes Yes! Of course," He smiled. "I think you will like it. It's one of the primary water sources for the city. We call it the heart of Gelmina and I believe Kazum works often down there. Something about the place calms him.

"Before we go however, I see that you intend to come armed?"

"Hmm?" Vrasha was confused for a moment before she realised that she had brought her sword with her. The Windblade was at her side, the leather sheath strung across her back like it was some sort of bow. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. It must just be a **** of habit. You know, with the war and all. You learn quickly not to go anywhere without your weapon."

"Indeed," Karden said. "It could be habit. Or perhaps subconscious recognition..."

"I'm sorry?"

"Nothing. Never mind. You did not hear that. There is no reason to be wary here, Vrasha. You are safe and among friends. You do not need your weapon. You should give it to me."

She frowned and shook her head. Karden's voice seemed to weave around her, suffocating her ability to think.

"I don't.... I should put it back in my room..." She said. "It's valuable. My windblade..."

"I will carry it for you. I will keep it safe. You should give it to me. I insist."

Slowly, reluctantly, Vrasha handed the weapon to Karden. She didn't know why she was doing it but it felt like the right choice. Even as part of her remarked on how stupid it was. The weapon belonged to her and worked only for her. _ _It was unique and there was no other blade like it in all the world. Why had she just handed it off like it was a normal sword?

Karden examined it for a moment before lashing the sheath to his own belt.

"I will not try to draw it," He said. "It would not work for me. It would be but a normal sword."

"It would be less," Vrasha told him. "The edges of the blade are sharpened by a field of air which surrounds it. As you cannot summon that air, to you the blade would be blunt as a club."

"Ah, good to know." Karden laughed. "A tricky weapon, yes. Forged for an old king of Khol-Hon."

"Yes, one of my ancestors. A long time ago."

"A royal weapon, but one for later." Karden said. "For now, we have places to go. Come, I will show you to the oldest part of the palace."

He set the path, dodging through hallways and corridors. Vrasha struggled to keep up. The Palace was a maze and she could easily see how you could get lost there. There were so many people and so many places, you could wander for weeks and never find your way out. Everywhere she looked, Gelmina displayed its riches. There were tapestries and portraits, statues and glass display cases of all kinds of things. But it also seemed to luxuriate in its slavery. Vrasha saw many more tool boxes for punishing slaves, just like the ones she had used on herself. Sometimes, collars and chains were used as ornaments or themes for certain rooms. Slavery was ingrained in Gelmina to the core.

And she saw many slaves as she went too. Most women, but some men. They were all naked, with collars that were carefully picked out in beatific scripts. Some of them were also chained while others were free to go about their day. Gelmina believed in sexual service for its slaves and that was true even here in the palace. Vrasha saw many of them being used to satisfy their owners or masters. Masturbating for them or even being fucked by them there and then. The sight - and the haunting cries of pleasure - echoed through her mind and made her womanhood feel tight and hot. Vrasha had never felt like this before, but was becoming harder and harder to ignore just how aroused she was getting from the thought of being a ****. She tried to push it out of her mind but it refused to go. And when she looked at Karden, she imagined being naked for him. She thought of him putting the collar around her throat, announcing to the world that she was now his property. That she, princess of Khol-Hon, had become enslaved.

Why am I thinking this way? She asked herself. I know I shouldn't. When I came here, I was sure that I would find something to fight and rail against. So why is the idea of being a **** making me so wet right now? Why am I so into this?

She said nothing and Karden led her deeper and deeper into the palace. Gradually, the shows of wealth began to fade away. The walls became sold stone, and the ornaments less and less.

"This is the oldest part of the palace," Karden told her as they went. "Before it really was a palace. More like a fortress. You wouldn't know from seeing it on the outside - the rich, wealthy part surrounds it totally. But we still have the solid core here. Most people don't come down this far. Kazum and his students use it mostly. But it's the most direct path to the heart."

Vrasha blinked, she felt like she was struggling, like her thoughts had become clouded. It was hard to string together concepts and much easier to go with the flow. Even so, she felt something was wrong.

"Don't worry," Karden told her. "This confusion you are feeling is because your mind is at war with itself. Part of you believes the suggestion and part of you is fighting it. It will clear up soon."

She nodded, not really listening. Karden simply smiled and led her onwards.

"Tell me, Vrasha. Now you have had the chance to look around, what do you think of our slaves?"

"They seem happy," Vrasha said reluctantly. "I have looked into them and found no evidence of misuse. Every one I question seems content, and they are free to return to their lives at the end of their service. Punishments are not permanent nor scarring. They're used sexually often, but they also know that is going to happen when they sign up. And no one seems to have been **** or **** into it..."

"Ah, my pretty. You say the right words but you still sound so doubtful. Have you found any problem at all? Any sign of ****?"

"No," Vrasha said. "Not even one."

They walked in silence for some minutes more and then Karden spoke.

"Vrasha, honestly, would you like to be a ****?"