Rania Lark
Star
- Joined
- Dec 4, 2013
Farrah knelt in the opulent bedroom next to the bed. She was to be a gift this time. Traded and sold more times than she could count, the young slave had learned well all of the nuances and wishes of each of her Masters. However, being so treasured had earned her a reputation and when each Master wished to curry favour or had come upon hard times, she was the first to go. Only a premiere gift would do in any of those situations.
However, Farrah had no choice in the matter. She would go wherever she was bade and if she protested, she was punished. The slave had learned early not to protest. Born to a poor family in a large city, as the youngest daughter, it was quickly decided that once she was old enough to work, she would be sent away. And so it was, since her family was unable to care for her, Farrah was sent to someone who could for a small sum of money to feed her family in a time of need.
Since then, Farrah was trained and traded by the most wealthy nobility and merchants in the city. She had learned well and had quickly become a favourite in many of the houses. And that was what had brought her here, kneeling next to a bed in a marble floored room filled with the finest silks, rugs, and gold trim she had ever seen.
Farrah had bronzed skin from her time in the sun. Her long black hair was tied in a loose braid that fell over her shoulder, resting along her chest. Her brown eyes were lowered to the ground as she waited, her hands clasped in her lap. She wore a simple uniform, a thin, brown linen dress that extended to the floor. The straps of the dress were tied at her shoulders while the neckline draped beautifully across her collarbone. Twiddling her thumbs slightly, Farrah heard sounds coming from outside the door. Raising her eyes slightly, she dared to peer at the heavy wooden barrier between her and her new Master.
However, Farrah had no choice in the matter. She would go wherever she was bade and if she protested, she was punished. The slave had learned early not to protest. Born to a poor family in a large city, as the youngest daughter, it was quickly decided that once she was old enough to work, she would be sent away. And so it was, since her family was unable to care for her, Farrah was sent to someone who could for a small sum of money to feed her family in a time of need.
Since then, Farrah was trained and traded by the most wealthy nobility and merchants in the city. She had learned well and had quickly become a favourite in many of the houses. And that was what had brought her here, kneeling next to a bed in a marble floored room filled with the finest silks, rugs, and gold trim she had ever seen.
Farrah had bronzed skin from her time in the sun. Her long black hair was tied in a loose braid that fell over her shoulder, resting along her chest. Her brown eyes were lowered to the ground as she waited, her hands clasped in her lap. She wore a simple uniform, a thin, brown linen dress that extended to the floor. The straps of the dress were tied at her shoulders while the neckline draped beautifully across her collarbone. Twiddling her thumbs slightly, Farrah heard sounds coming from outside the door. Raising her eyes slightly, she dared to peer at the heavy wooden barrier between her and her new Master.