Esther - Cover

Esther

Copyright© 2008 by Uncle Jim

Chapter 1

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Mathew saves Esther from a very cold night out of doors. He buys her from the village and takes her to a new life in the capitol. Things do not go well there. Story 3 in the Slave Girl Series This story takes place just before King John's reign.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   NonConsensual   Rape   Slavery   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   Anal Sex   Prostitution  

The main characters appearing in the story:

Mathew.

Royal Judge and Executioner, 5'-10" tall, 170 pounds, 36 years old, chestnut brown hair, gray eyes, fairly handsome

Esther.

Slave girl, 5'-2" tall, 105 pounds, 18 years old, 34C-22-32, long chestnut brown hair, gray/green eyes, cute

Bradley.

Farmer, 5'-9" tall, 160 pounds, 23 years old, black hair, blue eyes, dumb shit

Martha.

Guild Master, Mathew's sister, 5'-8" tall, 140 pounds, 34 years old, 36B-24-35, long brown hair, blue eyes

Hatty.

Assistant Guild Master, 5'-10" tall, 135 pounds, 38 years old, 36B-23-33, blond hair, blue eyes

Elizabeth.

Physician, 5'-6" tall, 135 pounds, 30 years old, 34C-25-34, black hair, hazel eyes


I was returning from the stables after checking on my horses for the night when I first saw the girl. She was sitting on the stone steps of the building in her ragged clothes. It was late evening in the middle of November, and she had on only a thin sack dress.

"Why are you out here dressed like that?" I asked her. She tried to stop her crying and trembling from the cold to answer, but she wasn't very successful.

"The men ordered me out of the building, Master. I have nowhere else to go," she sobbed.

"You can't stay out here like that. You'll freeze to death in this weather. Come inside with me," I told her.

"No Master, the men will beat me again and will surely turn on you also," she replied in near hysteria.

"Do you know who I am, girl?" I asked.

"No Master, you're a stranger here," she answered.

"I'm the Royal Judge and Executioner. I would love to see them turn on me. I would hang the lot of them. Now, inside with you," I instructed her in no uncertain terms.

"Yes, Master."

I was staying in the guest room of the local village's single men's hall. It was a long one story building, built of stone, with a dozen or so rooms. The guest room was actually two connected rooms with a fireplace between them. The first room had a table and chairs, a wash stand, a chest for linen and a clothes press, or shrunk. The smaller second room was the sleeping chamber.

"Go sit by the fire while I secure the door," I told the girl, upon entering the room. She immediately went and sat by the fire to warm up. She was so cold that she had been shivering constantly. I removed a small blanket from my saddle pack to place around her shoulders as she sat there. When I touched her, she winced and there was a sharp intake of breath.

"What is the matter, girl? Are you frightened of me?" I asked.

"No, Master," she replied, "I'm very sore there."

"Stand up, girl," I ordered. She stood. "Now remove your dress, so I may check your injury."

She looked very embarrassed, but complied. With the dress removed, I could see that she had a recent large bruise on her right side. There were welts from previous beatings on her back also. I also saw that she had very nice breasts. She stood about 5'-2", was maybe 105 pounds, had long chestnut brown hair, and gray/green eyes, but she was rather thin.

I placed a chair with the back at a right angle to the fireplace and close to it. Ordering her to sit, I removed my medicine bag from the saddle pack. I usually carried a variety of medicines and salves with me because I often travel away from large towns and doctors. I retrieved a jar of yellow salve and applied some to her side and back. She winced at the touch but appeared to be all right otherwise. I replaced the jar.

"You may get up now," I told her.

"Thank you, Master," she whispered, "no one else here has taken care of me before." She broke out crying then and was shivering still, even near the fire. I opened another pocket of the saddle pack and retrieved a garment. She had been reaching for her torn sack dress, but I stopped her.

"Stop, child. That dress is ragged and filthy. Wear this for tonight," I told her, as I handed her one of my long flannel nightshirts. It was large for her, but would not seriously disturb the salve I had applied. She beamed at the gift. What woman does not like new clothes, even if it is just a used night shirt. She put it on quickly. I then had her return to the chair near the fireplace.

"Now I have some questions for you. You must answer me truly, or as best you can remember things."

First "What is your name?"

"I do not have a name, Master," she replied.

"No name! What are you called then?"

"I am called six. I have always been six."

"A number? That is as bad as being in prison."

Second "How did you get that bruise on your side?"

"This evening three of the men took me from work and brought me here to pleasure them. They all used me several times. Then they all wanted to use me at the same time. I could not do that. I refused, and they hit me. I screamed, and they knocked me down and kicked me, but they were afraid someone would hear the screams and ordered me to stay outside all night. You found me later on the steps."

Third "Does the Village Chief allow this?"

"No, Master, that is why they were afraid someone would hear me scream."

Fourth "Do you know who these men are? Could you identify them?"

"Yes Master, they are three of the single men in the village. I see them all the time. They are the same three that used me at feeding time today."

Fifth "Tell me what happened at feeding time. When is feeding time?"

"Master, feeding time is at Noon. All the slaves are fed once a day. When I came from the fields today, the three men stopped me. They took me to one of the barns and pleasured themselves with me. When they released me, it was time to return to work. There was no food left. I have not eaten in two days," here she started to cry again, and her body was racked with sobs.

I reached into an open pocket in the saddle pack, and drew out a packet of travel rations. These are round biscuits about the width of a man's hand, and the thickness of his index finger. They are very high in nutrition. I removed one and turned to the girl.

"This is the only food that I have with me," I told her. "I want you to eat it very slowly. If you eat it too fast, it will upset your stomach. You must also drink water with it, as it is quite dry. Can you do this?"

"Yes, Master. Eat very slowly with water," she repeated. I gave her the the ration biscuit, and she nibbled some from the edge. I retrieved a cup from the wash stand and filled it with water from the pitcher. She accepted it gratefully, but she had a concerned look on her face.

"Master, please," she whispered, "it is not right for you to be serving me. I should be serving you."

"Answer me this, Six. If your friend is hurt and you bring them something to help them, is that all right?"

"If they are truly your friend and they help you, that is the correct thing to do, Master."

"And should a Master not be concerned for the health and welfare of his slaves?"

"I ... I do not know, Master. No one has ever told me of this."

"Let us consider a horse then," I said. "If I have a horse, and he becomes sick, do I not care for him?"

"Yes, the Masters always care for the horses and cows."

"Could I do less for a slave girl?"

"I do not know, Master. These things confuse me. I do not know the answer," and she burst out crying.

"Let me assure you, girl. A Master must look after and care for all of his possessions: a horse, a house, or a slave girl. To do less is irresponsible. A Master who does not take care of his property will soon lose it."

"I will remember this, Master," she whispered with a sob.

I changed into my other flannel nightshirt after that and prepared for bed. The fire had died down to embers by now, and the room was cooling off all ready. The girl had nearly finished the travel biscuit and the water, also.

"Come girl, it is time for bed," I told her. I needed to stop calling her girl, and six didn't seem appropriate. I required a name, one with six letters in it, perhaps. A name for a cute girl, and I knew just the name.

"Listen to me girl, I'm going to give you a name. I dislike calling you girl, and six is not appropriate. From now on, I will call you 'Esther'. It has six letters. You will answer to Esther from now on, is that understood?"

"Yes, Master, I love having a name. I will be Esther," she assured me with a smile.

I motioned for her to join me in bed. She looked surprised, stunned was more like it.

"Master," she said, as her voice quavered, "may I wash before coming to your bed?"

"Certainly, Esther, there is no need to ask. There is plenty of water in the pitcher."

She washed her face, hands, and feet in the basin. She then raised the night shirt and washed her pussy and behind. Following that she wiped down her thighs. Finally she poured the water in the slop bucket and soon joined me in bed.

The source of this story is Storiesonline

To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account (Why register?)

Get No-Registration Temporary Access*

* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.

 

WARNING! ADULT CONTENT...

Storiesonline is for adult entertainment only. By accessing this site you declare that you are of legal age and that you agree with our Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.


Log In