Picked

Previously.

Just then, an immense being of a man bumped into Shaandi, not unintentionally, Isari noted. She also espied the irritated look that passed over the whoremother’s face before she turned to acknowledge her antagonizer with only a façade of purest pleasure.

“Jespin Fleura, you beast!” The name was spoken affectionately with just the slightest hint of erotic promise. “Mind you don’t ruin my shoes now! I had to fuck Barlavian three times before he’d agree to gift me with a pair from his new collection!” Though Shaandi was extremely tall for a woman, and towered over Isari, she had to crank her neck at what looked like an uncomfortable angle in order to make eye contact with the large man. Isari saw a bright flash of white teeth as the man smiled his own alluring smile before speaking. As he spoke, Isari felt the rumble of his  deep voice in her own chest.

“My utmost apologies, dearest woman! I was momentarily distracted by the wide assortment of lovelies here this year. I believe it is the finest Hocking Day in many years!” He did nothing to disguise his lustful gaze as he spoke to Shaandi. Isari made a disgusted noise in her throat, and the man’s stare drifted in her direction. At first, Isari wanted to laugh at his lewd observance, until he identically mimicked Shaandi’s earlier inspection of her. This time though, when his eyes skimmed over her chest, one huge paw of a hand reached out and squeezed one of her breasts. She felt her face redden with fury, and clenched her jaw, ripe with indignation.

Shaandi gracefully batted the man’s hand away from Isari . “Jespin, don’t be a boar! Can’t you see the girl’s not accustomed to such behavior? Leave your pawing until after you’ve made you purchases!” Isari lowered her eyes then, refusing to feel anything other than enmity for the woman, even if she did keep other’s hands from molesting her.

Jespin Fleur was not in the least deterred. He shook his hand in a dismissive manner and stepped closer to Isari, and she closed her downward turned eyes, waiting for another unwanted touch to occur.

“I’m Nikoli, sir. Do you see anything in this direction that might be of interest to you?” Isari’s eyes flew open in the direction of her new-found friend, and couldn’t keep the slightest smile from her face when she saw him putting one delicate hand on a slim hip and strutting about lasciviously. He spun around like the finest runway model and struck a pose facing away from the three, with his well-toned rear sticking out ever so invitingly. Jespin’s laughter roared loudly in response.

“I do indeed! I’m always looking for a fine young male specimen to add to my collection. Nikoli, you say? Are you always in such elevated spirits? ‘Tis something my other boys need to learn!” Jespin moved away from Isari, distracted for the moment, and Isari breathed a thankful sigh of relief. She no longer cared what Shaandi thought, who was standing beside her still, because she clearly could not keep her feelings about this day off of her face.

Before Nikoli could move from his fashion pose, Jespin’s massive hand landed a loud slap on Nikoli’s protruding rear. Isari winced when Nikoli yelped, but the boy was not to be so quickly dismayed. He rubbed his ass with a soft hand and turned to prevent a repeat action. Jespin grinned wickedly, and Shaandi shook her head, bored of the big man’s behavior.

“I am here to earn a fine coin for my family, no? I would think this thing would be easier done with an agreeable attitude, that’s all.” Isari saw how he tried to keep a pained expression from his face as he nursed his abused hide, and liked him all the more.

Jespin nodded his head and was about to speak before Shaandi interrupted him, clearly trying to get the man away from their company.

“Are you not going to admire any of the other playthings here, Jespin? As you said, there are a great many to choose from.” Despite how Isari felt about Shaandi, she couldn’t help but admire the way Shaandi’s voice carried a certain sensuous tone that made people want to do her bidding. She saw how it affected the piggish Jespin, and his dark eyes sank once again into the wanton stupor.

“Alright, alright. I will leave you to your choices for now, but do not think once the bidding begins that I will so easily be redirected.” He made once last barbarous gesture in Isari’s direction before laughing and moving away toward the other commodities. Isari watched his obscene retreat until she could not longer see him amongst the hoard of buyers, but she continued to hear his rumbling voice long after. She didn’t realize Shaandi was observing her closely as she did so. Once she did, Isari immediately dropped her eyes again, willing the woman to disappear.

“Ah, my dear,  I would never allow a prize such as you to go to such a bumbling oaf.” She clapped her hands together musically and leaned forward so that her face was only inches of Isari’s. “Now, I must pretend that other merchandise here is of interest to me, but I do believe I’ve found what I came here for.” Before Isari could respond, Shaandi’s lips were on her own. The kiss was charged with all the carnality that was Shaandi Necorian, and after she was far withdrawn into the crowd, Isari was reeling with the pure pleasure of it.

Nikoli waved one woman-like hand in front of Isari’s face until she met his eyes with a dazed expression.

“Now, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that was a gratifying experience for you. Maybe being a whoremother’s slave would have it’s perks after all?” He winked at her knowingly, and she shoved him roughly.

“Shut up, you.”

Hedonism’s Slave

Whatever expectations Isari had had of this day were obliterated by the clouds of dust that swirled around her and assaulted her senses. She scrunched up her face, mindful of the cosmetics that heavily layered her skin. She blinked, the grit of the sandstorm causing her eyes to water, and she quickly lifted a perfectly- manicured hand to her face, attempting to catch the bothersome tears that threatened to destroy all her mother’s hard work. She breathed in through her mouth and immediately regretted it when dirt found it’s way down her throat and she began coughing grotesquely. She bent over, aware of the fact that her bountiful cleavage was nearly falling out of  her ridiculous costume. She looked on either side of her, trying to see if anyone else was having the same issues as she, and she made eye contact with a pretty boy that looked close to her own age. He grinned broadly as he shrugged and shielded his eyes from the airbourne grime.

“If they fall out, you might catch a higher price!” His eyes sparkled a brilliant green color, and Isari laughed, which only made her choke harder. She continued to hack until one of the handlers approached, looking anxious.

“The buyers will be here soon!  You must maintain your disposition!” The handler laid an un-calloused hand on Isari’s back and began thumping her lightly. Her coughing fit ended quickly enough, and she stood up, let out a deep breath. The handler adjusted her crooked dress, and slid his hands on either side of her breasts, thrusting them upward before stepping back and nodding approvingly. He then moved away, continuing to fuss over the other human commodities. Isari glanced over at the green-eyed boy and rolled her eyes. He shook his head, a little bit sadly.

“We’re not people anymore, you know. Only bondservants for the next seven years.” He seemed distracted by his own thought momentarily, then brought his attention back to Isari. “I’m Nickoli.” He held out a pale, freckled hand, and Isari grasped it firmly.

“Isari. I’ve been trying to forget that fact for the last three years, thanks.” She smiled kindly at Nickoli, and realized by his handshake he would most likely be purchased by a man. She immediately liked this charming boy, and hoped that maybe their buyers would live near each other. She’d been feeling melancholy of late, thinking of her family, and her friends Rona and Mighera, and of the fact that she would never see them after this day. “A great opportunity” is what they all had said to her. Perhaps, she had replied, but at what price?

There was a loud, ear-piercing whistle then, and Isari shivered involuntarily.

And so it begins, she thought bitterly.

After the government had fallen to anarchy, a new way of life had taken over. The people who had once been celebrities in the old government became the highest class in a new caste system where self- indulgence and carnality reigned supreme. Those individuals gifted with such talents that stimulated the mind and body- actors, writers, artists, musicians, prostitutes- these were elevated above all others, as were  those children born to such. These were called the  Schon. The working class, those who were responsible solely for pleasuring the Schon were known as the Haaldus. The Haaldus consisted of beautiful people alone. Any child born to a member of the Haaldus who bore any imperfection were sent away to a lower caste- the Enw. The Enw were those who served the Schon, keeping them in their extravagance, and children deemed acceptably alluring were sold off at the age of seventeen to the Schon, where they remained for seven years, until they had earned the title of Haaldus. There existed another caste, though it was not acknowledged, one consisting of those who were disabled, or unseemly, or those considered devoid of any pleasure-imparting talent. The Forsaken, as these unfortunates were called, were displaced souls, forbidden to build homes, and so wandered the streets and roads, most of them meeting their deaths at the hands of the higher castes. Isari’s parents were Enw, and this was her Hocking Day.

She watched as gorgeous people decked out in shimmering fabrics entered the Emporium, intent on finding the most desirable of playthings. Several faces she recognized, an actor and actress couple who were known to purchase a considerable number of Enw every year, an artist who’s work had brought Isari to tears, and a well-known prostitute who owned a slew of pleasure houses across several provinces. The sea of beautiful faces in front of her began to blend together, and Isari realized her ridiculously-tight dress was making it hard for her to breathe. She felt a hand steady her, and gave Nickoli a grateful look. She closed her eyes and  took as deep a breath as her bindings would allow. When she opened her eyes, she found herself face to face with Shaandi Necorian, the owner of the pleasure houses.

Shaandi eyed Isari intimately, starting from her feet, which were encased in absurdly high heels, continuing achingly slow all the way up to her chest, where Isari heard her make a sound low in her throat. Isari stood there miserably, trying not to reach out and pummel the woman, until Shanndi’s eyes met her own. An almost imperceptible smirk appeared on the woman’s face, and the slightest raise of one perfectly-shaped eyebrow as she assessed the malice burning in Isari’s eyes.

“Don’t be so hostile, love. The clients won’t enjoy it.” Long fingers with lacquered nails were placed on Isari’s chin, lifting as Shaandi appraised her skin and jawline.

Isari remained mute, openly showing her contempt as Shaandi noticed Nickoli standing nearby.

“You, too, love. There’s too much sadness in your eyes. Buck up! You’re lucky to have made the cut.” Nickoli smiled, remaining his charming self despite the barbarity of his situation.

“Yes, ma’am.” Isari noticed a Southern lilt to his response that she hadn’t noticed before.

Shaandi laughed, a pleasant and alluring sound. “Ma’am? Oh, love, do I look as old as all that?” She flirted as she touched Nickoli’s hand. Isari didn’t fail to notice how every action and movement the woman made was licentious.

Nickoli’s porcelain skin flushed a bright red, and Isari realized the effect Shaandi was having on him. “No, ma’- er, miss. No, not at all.” Isari narrowed her eyes at him, feeling betrayed by his reaction to this member of the Schon.

Shaandi laughed her golden laugh again, and turned her attention once again to Isari. “You see? You’re little friend accepts his circumstances, pretty bird. Perhaps I can teach you to welcome them as well, hmm?” Shaandi placed her hand once again on Isari’s face, this time cupping her cheek in a surprisingly comforting way.

Isari felt her heart sink, despite the reassurance. It had been bad enough when she knew she was being sold to a complete stranger to be used as she would, but to be sold into servitude at a pleasure house was more than she thought she could bear.

 

 

Brain Babble

I have not blogged on my blog for many moons.

I’ve no excuses, unless you count moving into a new house, working two jobs, and trying to keep my new dishwasher empty. My brain is turning to mush, and since I’ve no specific ideas to post today, I shall simply write whatever thoughts are in my head at this moment…

…..

I think I’m balding. It’s kind of hard to tell, since I never had thick hair to begin with, and some people might describe me as someone sporting a fivehead, (as opposed to a forehead) but I seem to be missing several of my kinky strands. Maybe it’s time to invest in some extensions. Except I’m not sure I have enough hair to make them blend.

I painted a dolphin on the bathroom wall tonight. It took a LONG fuckin’ time. Like, three whole hours. That was time I could have been watching The L Word, or American Horror Story, or any other show on Netflix that I’m behind on. Just think of how many hours I’ll be missing of Netflix while I’m painting the rest of the bathroom.

I wish I had a hot person to rub my shoulders and give me a massage. I suppose my Rockstar could be considered the hot person I have that could do this thing, but he is busy snoring right now, and wouldn’t be caught dead touching me in such a way. So if anyone has some boobies they want to press against my back, or perhaps a Chris Meloni, send ’em on over, please.

Shirley Temple is dead. So is Philip Seymour Hoffman. I believe Nicolas Cage may be next.

I have figured out that having a dishwasher is as much a pain in the ass as NOT having one. Who knew?

Here’s the funny thing: hedonism didn’t mean exactly what I thought it meant. It’s weird that it took a pastor bringing it up for me to actually look up the meaning.

Dollar store candles are not worth a whole dollar. Or even fifty cents. The flame went out on them before the lighter was even cold. WTF.

I really just am so sad that I have no more energy to blog, but, you know, one of these days….