Ranma grunted slightly in discomfort as he opened the trap door leading from the pit. He hadn't felt this stiff after a sparing session in a good long time. It had been the armor. He was used to having totally unrestricted motion, and while the armor was of the best quality, it restricted his range of moment and slowed him up a bit. He'd have to get used to fighting in it. Until then he'd just have to make do.
Still, he could not wait for that bath.
“Excuse me, m'lord...”
Ranma paused and looked to the side. Apparently the Warlock he had hired the night before was waiting for him outside the training room.
“What is it?” he asked.
“If I may be so bold as to ask, m'lord. But I would like to know when you are intending to build a Library,” the Warlock asked, before adding, “Wholly so I may better serve you of course.”
Ranma nodded. “Listen, Mithras... right?”
The Warlock blinked. It was a rare Keeper who actually bothered to remember the names of his servants.
“Y-yes, m'lord...”
“I'd have build it already but I can't do it right now.”
Mithras blinked, but bit his lip, not wanting to annoy the Keeper by asking him questions.
Seeing that the Warlock wanted to ask, but probably wasn't going to any time soon, Ranma added, “You see, right now the main library in my inner sanctum isn't even really set up. Its just some empty shelves with a big pile of books that needs to be moved in.”
Mithras nodded. “I see the difficulty m'lord. May I be so bold as to offer my services in organizing your library for you?”
“Sure,” Ranma replied, “I'm going that way right now.”
The Warlock nodded and began to follow his lord.
Ranma groaned again and absently tried to rub his lower back, scowling slightly when he felt the armor in his way.
“Are you alright, m'lord?” Mithras inquired.
“Yeah,” Ranma replied, “I'm fine. Just a bit stiff after that workout.”
“Well,” Mithras remarked, “That sounds like nothing a warm bath and an attractive slave couldn't correct.”
“Yeah, I got a bath waiting...” he paused. “What do ye mean an 'attractive slave'?”
“I find few things relieve tension faster than the charms of a skilled pleasure slave,” he replied.
“Hey,” Ranma snapped, “I didn't get 'em could make 'em do... you know, that against their will.”
Mithras blinked in confusion. This was one odd Keeper. From what his grandfather had told him, most Keepers tended to be utterly corrupted by their power. Still though, he could understand the concept.
For his 17th birthday, his grandfather had bought him the virginity of a Overworld peasant girl who had been recently captured in a raid and sold to a local brothel. The girl had been a pitiful wreck, crying, and begging uncaring gods for deliverance. It had actually made him feel guilty to take from her what he was due. She had already been paid for after all. The experience though had been far less pleasurable an experience than the touch of a trained slave who accepted her place, which in turn lacked the passion that could be found in the arms of a free woman.
Still, just by looking at him lord, he could tell that he was young and was not from a noble house. He was not surprised if he had misconceptions if all he had seen of slavery were the public auctions, where Overworlders, debtors, and criminals fool enough to be caught were sold on the block. His own grandfather had owned several slaves, some where the pitiful wretches off the blocks, while his best had been properly trained, but Ranma, he had a feeling they were the best. The ones that cost as much as a small palace, the kind only a Dungeon Keeper or Dark Lord could ever even dream of having as his own.
Steeling his nerves, he decided to correct his lord's misconception. He only hoped that his Keeper would not take offense and leave him to the tender mercies of his newly hired mistress as punishment for his assumption.
“Keeper Ranma,” he began, “You acquired you slaves at a semi-private auction, one reserved for only the best and most powerful, did you not?”
Ranma blinked. “Yeah?”
He nodded. “Then I assure you, that these girls are not like the pitiful captives you find being sold at the public auctions, m'lord. They have been trained since childhood, since birth even, to become what they are today. They have been trained to be obedient, to love their master more than they love themselves. They have been slaves as long as they can remember, and will be slaves until the day they die, if not because of the chains around their necks, but the ones around their souls.”
Taking a breath to keep his thoughts in order, and finish his point before his lord grew irritated, he continued, “To them knowing their master values their efforts would be the greatest reward. By refusing to take them, you are most likely confusing them, making them think that they are doing something wrong... and if they are still virgins, then you will frighten them. After all, all a virgin is good for is a slave or a sacrifice. Leave them pure too long and they will think you mean to lay them on the alter.”
Ranma blanched, and pitifully replied, “I just don't want to, you know, take advantage of them...”
Mithras groaned as his frustration finally overtook his deference to authority. “You cannot take advantage of them, because they have no rights beyond what you allow them, no privileges that you to not grant them, no possessions that you do not allow them, and no pleasures that you do not personally give them. Pleasing you is the only thing that gives meaning to their lives. If you gave the word, they would slit their own throats at your command. You own them completely, utterly, and without question, m'lord. They are your possessions, body and soul, and are yours to do what ever you wish...”
For a moment Ranma was left totally dumbfounded by what he'd just been told. The very idea disgusted him, but what was truly disturbing is that he saw some logic to it. True, it was utterly disgusting, mortally repugnant, and otherwise just really bad, but on some sick level it did make sense. He was raised since he was little to be the best martial artist in the world, and deep down that was all he really want to be. They were raised to be the most loyal, most obedient slaves, so did that mean that all they really wanted to be was GOOD SLAVES?
He shook his head, futilely trying to ward off the oncoming headache as his brain tried to process this latest revolting revelation that had been dumped on his head.
Almost by instinct, Ranma summoned a pair of imps. “Listen, they'll take you to the Library and help you do... whatever. Just go.”
“Yes, m'lord,” Mithras replied as he quickly followed the imps, happy to have avoided punishment for that little insubordination and mentally noting that it might be in his interest to avoid the keeper for the next couple days.
As the Warlock ran off Ranma could only sigh in frustration. He didn't drink much, but right now, he could really use some sake. Absently, he wondered if they even had sake down here...
He shook his head. He was stiff, confused, appalled, and had the worst headache he'd had since he'd left Akane and that mallet of hers behind.
He really needed that hot bath.
Walking into his Inner Sanctum, Ranma ignored everything around him, simply walking into the strange Furo/Turkish/Roman bath. At this point, he just wanted to get naked and soak until his aches, pains and problems just melted away. Unfortunately though, there was one thing that he hadn't expected. One thing that he, in hindsight, should was rather obvious.
That thing was the virtually naked albino slave girl standing next to the bath dressed in only a robe that seemed to be made out of a material that was only just a bit more substantial than gauze, ready to serve him in any, and that means any, way he saw fit.
This was just looking to be one of those days...
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(Posted Thu, 19 Apr 2007 12:30)
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