“Of course you can grope the slave,” Reya replies matter-of-factly. “He’s fair game for all of you.” At this, Sebastian blushes deeply and, if possible, the bulge of his erection against his underwear grows tighter.
“See?” Silus crows at Sebastian, running the tip of his index finger along the outline of Sebastian’s bulge. “Besides, I’m just making it more realistic. You know, more parallel to what’s happening in the story.”
“Sure, Silus,” Emma mocks. “You’re just forced to keep it realistic.”
Another related, disagreeable aspect of her new position was how all the guests felt at liberty (and were granted it by her Mistress) to touch her body anywhere they pleased when she was near. She honestly wasn’t terribly surprised when she felt the first hand caress her ass, since the guests could do this without being obvious about it. Ironically, this was also the only part of her body that was covered by anything–though calling her thin, tight-fitting leather panties ‘clothes’ was quite a stretch in her mind. But she had been shocked (and had gasped out loud, nearly spilling the soup in her hands) when one of the guests–the one Mistress had referred to as Vinselius–had reached up a hand in full view of everyone and fondled her breast.
Mistress had smiled wickedly while Vinselius and his burly hulk of a body guard chuckled. Ilya, meanwhile, had been put on her guard. This time as she approached the table with the wine jug, she expected the worst. She started at the far end of the table, where two of Mistress’ lieutenants sat. They clearly didn’t dare grope their boss’ property, and Ilya felt safe around them. Inevitably, though, she made her way around the table to the guests of honor.
“You have exquisite toys, Indigo,” Vinselius commented, as Ilya poured wine into his goblet. With one finger he idly flicked the tiny bells hanging from her pierced nipples, filling the room with a high-pitched tinkle. Illya, meanwhile, could feel the bells intimately as they swung from her tender tits. Despite having been naked for hours now, Ilya couldn’t stifle a blush.
Just focus on the pour, Ilya told herself over and over. Just focus on the pour. There’s nothing you can do about this creep.
“Why thank you,” Indigo replied in a bright tone, as if Vinselius had just commented on a painting or a sculpture.
“What’s more, I hear this particular specimen was involved in the theft of my heirlooms.”
Sb: Wat, what?!
I: Sebastian, make a dexterity saving throw for me
Sb: [Rolls]. 13?
Startled, Ilya nearly spilled wine on the white tablecloth, but somehow the jostled wine all stayed inside the jug. Scared, Ilya risked a quick glance over at the head of the table where Mistress sat, only to find her staring straight at her with a look that chilled her, even on this hot, summer night.
“Indeed,” Indigo replied without looking away from her slave. Her voice was only slightly warmer than her gaze. “My agents recovered her shortly after she snuck into the city.”
Snuck into the city! Ilya scoffed silently. She had hardly been sneaking when she entered the city. Though she had been in disguise when they captured her.
“And she did not have my possessions on her when you took her?” Vinselius inquired, clearly knowing the answer and audibly disappointed.
“No, your grace,” Indigo replied with admirable control. “But we shall soon have what you seek in our possession. I doubt very much this one was the brains of the group.”
Ilya, now pouring wine for the blonde elf’s bodyguard–a bright red tiefling wearing a tight, black leather vest and sporting intricate tattoos on both upper arms–smarted at the insult.
Just because I’m young and my body’s attractive doesn’t mean I’m dumb, Ilya sulked internally.
“It’s her companion–the one who carried your heirlooms in her pack–that we’re after.” With a sickening lurch in her stomach Ilya thought of Kit and the danger she was in. “And,” Indigo continued, idly tracing loops on the leather stretched tight across Ilya’s nearby ass with her finger, “with her friend here as hostage, I doubt it will be long before your property is back in your possession.”
Vinselius snorted loudly. “And you expect that they will just turn it over? In exchange for her?” His tone clearly inferred he thought his ‘property’ far more valuable.
Indigo gave her guest a reassuring smile. “We don’t know exactly who these couriers are, but there is every chance they are merely hired hands. It’s quite possible they have no idea what they are carrying and, as such, have nothing to lose by turning it over to us other than their pay. Once they realize who they are dealing with–and what we will do to their friend if they refuse–it will be an obvious choice.”