From Slavery to Mastery (Mjoellner & Snow Cherry)
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Snow Cherry on 20-10-2009, 03:01:51</h2>
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				Title: <strong>From Slavery to Mastery (Mjoellner &amp; Snow Cherry)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Snow Cherry</strong> on <strong>20-10-2009, 03:01:51</strong>
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				<div align="center"><span style="font-size: 3.95em;" class="bbc_size"><span style="font-family: georgia;" class="bbc_font"><em>From Slavery to Mastery</em></span></span></div><div align="center"><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td>(http://i480.photobucket.com/albums/rr164/TheTaintedTear/Miss_Murder_by_PheeNixy.jpg)<br><br><strong>Mistress Anenfel Dulany</strong></td><td>(http://i480.photobucket.com/albums/rr164/TheTaintedTear/2dfd80df510e695860d340a01ecfe770.jpg)<br><br><strong>Lady Constance Hille</strong></td><td>(http://i480.photobucket.com/albums/rr164/TheTaintedTear/f304d6ddb89d02eafcdeb52309ee5828.jpg)<br><br><strong>Lady Morgan Blair</strong></td></tr></tbody></table></div><br><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font">Sunlight spilled through the spotless windows that made up the north wall of the Garden Hallway. The hall was named after the exotic plot of flowers, shrubs, trees, and plants that grew beyond the windows in the outside air. The weather was turning cool and the leaves were changing fiery colors from their vibrant shades of green. Soon the trickling water in the sculpted statues would freeze over, but not before the trees and shrubs had dropped their leaves. The sunlight bathed the hall in comfortable warmth as the solar heat filtered through the glass, despite the chilly air that rested just beyond. The southern wall of the Garden Hallway was river stone with large pictures depicting the serene scenes of children at play. The floor was tiled with tiny mosaic stones in diamond shaped patterns. <br><br>This hallway heralded the approach of four people; Mistress Anenfel and the dignitary from the Tuskai providence in his festive green attire, and Lady Constance with Lady Morgan bringing up the rear. The Tuskai figure was small, almost miniature in size with a wobbling gait. Although he was very enthusiastic, gleeful, and fervent in his duty it was quit a sight for one who stood only a little past Anenfel’s waist. Constance and Morgan followed a few feet behind, commenting and snickering at his small size. Anenfel was more polite, knowing full-well the amusement of her two best friends but upholding her respectful duties as the Mistress of the Dulany Establishment in grace.<br><br>“My Master, Sal Tuskai…” The dignitary messenger only paused in his stride to wink at Anenfel while adding, “…(your betrothed, my Lady) is very pleased in the heartwarming gifts he has sent you. Although he understands the circumstances of your estate and is willing to lend his hand in marriage, he really does desire nothing more than your love. He hopes that these gifts will help lessen the distance between the both of you until the joyous date of you arrival into his arms.”<br><br>As if that was some kind of introduction to the sight of her gifts, they reached the end of the Garden Hallway to step into a large room called the Lionel Foyer. It was semi-circular with a polished floor, and it was littered and stuffed with a treasure cove of gifts from Lord Sal Tuskai. Furs were stacked on top of one another as well as oriental rugs; spreads of jewelry and stones were displayed, vases, sculptures, busts, paintings, and furniture were scattered all about, chests were opened to reveal their contents of printed fabrics and dresses, and a few cages of exotic birds chirped and rustled their feathers in the background. Anenfel heard the exclamation from her friends in a gasping awe… and both girls rushed into the room to touch, feel, and drool over the beautiful gifts.<br><br>The Tuskai messenger smiled wide, and brushed his palms down the front of his evergreen uniform with gold buttons. “All of these are yours my Lady Anenfel.”<br><br>Anenfel dropped her eyes upon the small man and shook her head, “This is really too much. He did not have to send me all of this as a testimony of his love. I do believe that he loves me and when we are finally together our love will only be strengthened.”<br><br>The dignitary shook his head but it still held a pleased grin. “Sal Tuskai spares no expenses when it comes to matters such as your hand in marriage. These gifts are only an expression of the love he holds for you, my Lady.”<br><br>Constance’s voice rang out to Anenfel and the messenger, drawing their attention. “What about these?” <br><br>She was referring to three men who stood in a row, side by side. Their heads were bowed and their legs were spread apart by a foot and they also held both of their hands behind their backs in a willing manner of submission. Intrigued, Anenfel drew close to them while the messenger followed…<br><br>“Ah, those are three of Lord Tuskai’s finest slaves. They are also gifts to you.”<br><br>Anenfel’s eyes grew slightly wide, “Slaves?! What use do I have for slaves?”<br><br>The messenger nervously sidestepped, not sure if he had detected a hint of disappointment in her voice. He cleared his own throat and brought his tone down to almost a whisper as if he did not want to embarrass the Mistress of the Dulany fortune. “They are pleasure slaves, my Lady.”<br><br>Morgan and Constance lit up in delight, while Anenfel frowned. “We have spent many years trying to erase slavery from our lands and the effects it has held upon our people. I can assure you that I do not need pleasure slaves in my house. They will return with you back to Lord Tuskai.”<br><br>A worried expression washed over the little man’s face and he cupped his hands in a nervous ball in front of his chest. “…and dare insult the man you are betrothed to, m’Lady? Lord Sal will be sorely disappointed to learn that you were not pleased and only accepted a portion of his gifts.”<br><br>“Look Anne, there are three of them…one for each of us! Let’s keep them.” Chirped Morgan, and Constance giggled in response.<br><br>Anenfel frowned even more. She hated it when her friends called her ‘Anne’. She watched both of the girls venture behind the line of slaves to inspect them even more. The only clothing they wore was harem pants, and their upper torso was bare so that their toned muscles could be visible to all.<br><br>Again, the messenger cleared his throat… “Ma’am, if I may, they are gifts to you to do as you please. Lord Tuskai wants you to take delight in them, knowing that it is nothing but a small taste of what awaits for you in his own lands.”<br><br>Anenfel sighed heavily. She did not care for what he had just said, but she did care about insulting the man she was soon to marry. “I will keep one of the slaves then and the other two will return back to Sal. You can tell Lord Tuskai that I accepted only one slave so that I might reserve the rest of my pleasures for his bed alone.”<br><br>The messenger nodded, and Morgan stepped around from behind the line of slaves with a grin on her face, “Which one will you keep Anne? All three of them look delicious.”<br><br>For the first time Anenfel allowed her eyes to study the three men, looking at each one individually and wondering herself who to keep and who to send home.</span>
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				Title: <strong>Re: From Slavery to Mastery (Mjoellner &amp; Snow Cherry)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mjoellnir</strong> on <strong>01-11-2009, 03:19:01</strong>
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				Arathen stood with the other two slaves in a room that displayed almost bigger splendor than most of the rooms in the Palace of his master. He knew why they were here, they were to be given as a gift. They had been prepared just for this one task for the past year. A year he had despised in the beginning.<br><br>Had he not been one of the most successful assassins the guild had ever had? Had he not brought them more money that any other? And then because one single mission failed, due to circumstances that were not even his, they had put a price on his head. On HIS head. He had been outraged, wanting to dispose of the Guild elders himself in return. Yet he knew that if he would stay he had no life left to live and so he had gone into the lands of the Tuskai.<br><br>After two short days he had been captured, identified as one of the Vitary by the tattoos on his upper body he had been captured, knowing he would never make it out alive. Then something odd had happened. On the evening before his execution all male and female inmates under 35 were chained and dragged into the courtyard of the prison where they were ordered to undress. Those who refused or hesitated were severely beaten and Arathen was able to feel the pain of the beating for days afterwards. Not that he refused out of shame, he hated to be given orders, to be treated like a slave.<br><br>A woman, accompanied by two men in royal robes came into the courtyard and inspected all inmates. As he had later been told he was selected due his being blessed by nature. At the time when this was revealed to him he had already begun his training. At first he had thought he was supposed to be a personal slave or perhaps one who was forced to fight in games, yet soon had discovered that he was supposed to please. Yet unlike the other two men who were here with him now, he never had his spirit broken completely. Yes he did enjoy his work for the most part, he was well fed, was able to drink wine, sleep in comfortable beds and lay with some of the most beautiful women of Tuskai. Yet there was still the spirit of an assassin in him, the spirit of one who lived freely, who longed for excitement other than that of a bedroom alone.<br><br>While he reflected on the past year the door opened and three women entered the room, followed by the fat little weasel of an emissary. If Arathen would have met him under different circumstances he would dispose of this man for free. He hated the kind, always lurching, sliming on the floor in a never ending effort to gain people's favor and to get ahead of others. Arathen mustered the women from under his eyelashes, his head lowered as it was fit. All three were stunningly beautiful. It was easy to point out the one they were supposed to be given to. The blond had an aura about her. An aura of leadership that the other did not have. Yet from the looks of it all three would want their share of the gift as the other two, a cheeky looking redhead and a seemingly sensual brunette were inspecting him and the other men. <br><br>As the blond finally walked over to them, deciding she would keep only one of the three men, Arathen lifted his head, looking at her. He knew it was not fit to look at a master or mistress unless ordered to do so, yet it was a part of him no one would ever break, not without killing him. His eyes met hers and he looked at her, noticing that she was not only the only one with an aura of leadership, but she was also the mot beautiful one of the three women. Attempting to look timid enough to at least fit the part of the slave enough to make up for the eyecontact, he hoped that what fire and spirit had remained in him over the past year, did not show in his eyes.
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				Title: <strong>Re: From Slavery to Mastery (Mjoellner &amp; Snow Cherry)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Snow Cherry</strong> on <strong>04-11-2009, 05:49:21</strong>
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				<span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font">Anenfel wore a peach colored dress that was cut with a portrait neckline; one that featured a shawl-like drape around the shoulders so that the low scoop offered a flattering view of the skin on her chest, without revealing the cleavage. The rest of the dress fell like a sheath upon her body, hugging and showing the curves until tapering off in flair toward the bottom hem. A bolder color of peach, akin to a mars-orange, highlighted any details with a shiny luster. Her hair fell straight and a trickle of dainty jewels shimmered from her earrings like a falling rain drop that caught the sun. Her eyes were greenish-blue, serving to remind anyone of the colors found within the swirling ocean. Anenfel stood straight, allowing her arms to gently sway at her sides while inspecting the three slaves with the casual drift of her gaze.<br><br>As mentioned before the Dulany lands held a history of slavery, but had recently tried to push the subjective servitude from its healthy culture. Mistress Anenfel was no stranger to dealing with slavery, but as she looked upon the three men she already felt regret for agreeing to accept one into her household. Each man was sculpted like a greek god, with perfectly toned muscles portraying the leanness of a cougar yet the strength of taunt wire. Morgan was right, they all looked delicious. If she lost any self preserve there would be an instant blush of arousing heat illuminating her flesh, though Anenfel was good at keeping a straight face and charging her body to act mature.<br><br>Then, while her eyes took in their physical attributes, one of the slaves looked up at her. She caught the direct contact, which was only brief, before he meekly dipped his gaze back down upon the floor. That was when she knew who she wanted to keep. The other two slaves seemed broken and spiritless as opposed to the one who dared to look upon a Mistress. There would be no point at all in choosing one of the languid slaves, but rather might be saving someone from having their inner spirit strangled and choked dry if she took the one who had shown a bit of animation and boldness. Anenfel did not wish to further his slave training, although he would have to know and recognize his place in her manor! Freedom from slavery he would not be given, but in her made up mind he would have as much freedom within his slavery as possible, given that he was obedient and not a troublemaker.<br><br>Anenfel lifted her arm, the two silver bangles clinking pleasantly, and pointed at Agrathen. “I will keep that one. The rest can go back with you.”<br><br>The messenger quickly nodded and clapped his hands together sharply, to which the two slaves that had not been chosen swiftly walked out of the attraction, leaving Agrathen alone.<br><br>“Constance,” Anenfel started gently, “can you please show the new addition to the Dulany Manor his room?”<br><br>Suddenly the messenger gasped.. “Oh no m’Lady, he stays in your own private quarters. He is a pleasure slave and that is what he has been trained to do.”<br><br>Anenfel almost blushed, but recovered too quickly to allow the rose color to reach her cheeks. “Nonesense. He is mine now to do as I wish and I want him to have his own room.” She nodded at Constance, “Quicky m’dear, take him to a suitable room.”<br><br>Constance brushed some red hair behind her shoulder and beckoned Agrathen to follow her. “This way, slave.”<br></span>
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				Title: <strong>Re: From Slavery to Mastery (Mjoellner &amp; Snow Cherry)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Mjoellnir</strong> on <strong>14-02-2010, 15:47:36</strong>
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				Arathen held his gaze low, the sunlight reflecting upon the polished floor while his eyes were taking in every detail of her dress. The brief moment her gaze had met his, the image of her eyes edged into his memory. What a prize she would be if he were a free man. Eyes that would make him want to get lost in them, sure to draw any man inside, to capture and most freely give up his soul just to be able to gaze into them for hours. For a moment he imagined those eyes in other scenes, how they must look when she was aroused, when she was sad, when they seemed bursting with joy, when they were burning with passion.<br><br>Letting those thoughts linger in his mind, playing with them as with a flower, freshly picked on a bright spring day, letting its pedals twirl in the sunlight as he heard her speak again. “...I will keep that one. The rest can go back with you” she had said and even without raising his head he knew that her hand was extended towards him. His lips moving about, Arethen attempted his best to hide the smirk he would have loved to give to his two competitors, to those lapdogs with no left self respect or strength.<br><br>Hearing his new Mistress argue the point that now he was hers to do with as she pleased and he would surely be given his own room, caused him even more effort to hide his emotions. Too strong the desire to look at the Emissary and let him know he could take his distorted views back to where he had acquired them, better yet if he would had a dagger to show that sorry excuse of a man what he thought of him.<br><br>And so Arathen, the Rogue who had become a slave, the Slave who had been trained to pleasure, was now given a minimum amount of freedom. Bowing his head lower for a brief moment, he acknowledged the change in ownership as well as stating his content and gratitude for the decision.<br><br>When being told to follow, Arathen looked up at the woman before him and as he did so, he quickly let his eyes wander about her features, likewise her body as he lowered his gaze again. Not as low as before, after all he was being shown to his quarters as well as probably been shown his way around the Residence. He nodded slowly <em>“Yes Milady”</em> he replied in a low voice before following the woman out of the room.
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				Title: <strong>Re: From Slavery to Mastery (Mjoellner &amp; Snow Cherry)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Snow Cherry</strong> on <strong>09-03-2010, 00:56:26</strong>
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				<span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font">Now, Lady Constance Hille was the one you needed to keep a sharp eye upon. While Lady Morgan was easily beguiled and giggly, and Mistress Anenfel was confidently mature, Constance was the sly troublemaker who was always shifting things around to suit a better order of amusement. Constance knew her place as a friend and supporter to Mistress Anenfel, but she was not afraid to rebel just enough to play upon the esteemed Mistress’ nerves. Constance walked to a beat of her own, and it was a continual struggle for Anenfel to keep her friend undermined. The Mistress enjoyed Constance’s company; always have since childhood! They will always be the best of friends. Yet Constance was…for a lack of better words…a playfully mischievous fox.<br><br>Constance left the Lionel Foyer with the new slave on her heels. She walked casually down the Garden Hallway with a gentle sway to her hips. Her heels were soft and light upon the diamond shaped mosaic patterns dotting the floor. Her dress was long, but carefree. It was a dusty rose that accented the color of her pale, pink skin. Sleeveless with two shoulder straps, the material hugged her bosom and waist giving view to her delectable cleavage. She was silent upon the trek down the Garden Hallway, but that was only in part due to the image of the handsome pleasure slave burned into her mind’s eye. Although she couldn’t hear him following behind her she knew he was there.<br><br>The Garden Hallways ended, giving birth to a new hallway that was short and stubby. It served only as a brief introduction to the three doors; one on the left, one on the right, and one directly ahead. Constance paused in this stubby hall and opened the door to the right and pushed it ajar. She stepped back to allow Arathen the space to look into the room, however it was clear she was more interested in his body than his tiny tour while they walked to his room. “This is the library. Mistress Anenfel spends a lot of time in here, and so of course, we do too.” Constance smiled sweetly; and it was sweet despite the lust etched into the edges of her golden eyes.<br><br>She turned and opened the door that was to the left and stepped through this one. Beyond, there was a grand staircase leading up to a balcony that ran the length of the second floor hall. The staircase was wide at the bottom, opening into a fairly large circular room with busts and vases of flowers upon pedestals. The space between floor and ceiling was vast with a large glimmering chandelier hanging from the cathedral ceiling. Constance started to step up this staircase, making sure to gather up some of her dress so that she wouldn’t trip along the way.<br><br>As she climbed the staircase with Arathen following behind she asked absently, “So what is your name?” But then her words turned into simple amusement, “Or should I make up a name for you?” <br></span>
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