The Slave

Chapter 6

 "May I speak to your mate?"    A feminine high pitched voice, that was slightly feminine but definitely masculine, stabbed through the air. I sneaked a quick glance at the owner of the voice. It was a young man maybe in his early twenties, with golden blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He had a smallish build like me. But it was obvious, that he was a little bit bigger than me.   I guess one of my new Masters nodded their head, because Blondie said, "Thank you." With his voice sounding like worn-out brakes of a car that needs to be changed, asap.    "What's your name?"   "Athiss, Sir."   "How old are you?"   "Seventeen, Sir."   "Woaw. Your pretty young. Who was your formal Master?"   "My formal Master is Lord Damon, Master of the house of Valar. Sir." I didn't look at Blondie's face as I answered his questions, but the tone of his voice was strongly leased with excitement. I couldn't tell if it was real or fake. But if excitement had a flavor, then I could test it. With the amount of excitement, that dripped out of his mouth like a drooling dog. It was sickening.   "Woaw. What type of slave were you to him?"   "A s*x slave, Sir."    "Hum. So you know all 'bout s*x. Tell me between vanilla and S&M, which do you prefer?"   "Anyone my Masters wants me to, Sir."    "Ha. I see. Tell me what's your favorite s*x position?"   "Anyone my Masters wants me to, Sir."   "But you most have one." "Anyone my Masters wants me to like, Sir."   "How many people have f****d you?"   "I–"   "Alright, that's enough questions from you, Blu." A man said, with a baritone voice. The man looked big, even though he was sitting down. The suit that he wore, looked as if it was minutes away from exploding off his body, with the amount of muscles he had. Lieon and Seth are big men, but this man was one and a quarter of Seth or Lieon. The man was one and a quarter of both of them. He had dark red hair and hazel eyes, his beard was almost like the main of a lion. I looked at him with a passive expression on face. This was not the first time someone had asked me such questions before. Being a s*x slave had robed me of the feeling called Shame. I could be asked the most embarrassing questions in the world and I would answer them with no feelings apart from the feeling of annoyance and hatred.    "Oh come on Cass, aren't you curious to find out how many people he has had s*x with. I know I am. What about you Seth? Lieon?"   "Yer. I actually do want to know how many people my mate has slept with. Tell us slave." Seth said. I could tell he was looking at me, intensely.   "I have no idea how many people I've slept with, Master."   "Nonsense, even my slave knows how many people she has slept with. And she's just twenty three." A woman with a slightly deep voice for a woman said. She had dark brown hair, and eye's the same color of her hair. Her skin was white but not in a sickly way. She was beautiful, her lips painted in a dark red color and there was no much makeup on her face.    I had no words for her. It was pointless keeping track of how many men had stock their d**k inside me or how many women had ordered me to stick my c**k inside them. To be honest with you, I think I've opened my legs for men more times an elevator and an international w***e, combined.   "At what age did you lose your virginity?" A different women asked. She has cherry blonde hair, gray colored eyes, round and slightly chubby face. Given her that pretty young girl look. She still had some baby fat. She was, cute.   "Four, Ma'am." As those words flowed out of my mouth the sound of silver wears hitting plate was heard, followed by dead silence. The atmosphere became dense. No one said anything, no one moved, they all looked at me with a shocked expression on their faces, and a mix of pity.    Pity.    An expression and an emotion I hated.   Why where they shocked?    Why did they pity me?   They had no right to feel sorry for me. I don't need their pity.    "I'm sorry." A man with silver blonde long hair, blood red eyes and a handsome face, said to me.   The bitter taste of anger and hatred filled my mouth, mixing with my saliva, making me want to spit it out. But I swallowed it. He had no right to open his mouth and tell me, sorry. He had no idea of what he was telling me sorry for. They never will. They where supernaturals and I'm a human, a s*x slave. They could never be in my shoes even if our legs were the same size. There's a difference between us, I'm dirt and they are precious stones. The precious of the precious.    I hated them. All of them. I hated the world, everybody in it, I hated the supernaturals, the humans and most of all I hated myself more.    "Why are you sorry, Sir." I had to ask. He had no right or reason to be sorry.  He looked at me with a strange look on his face. It was as if his face was a pot and the expressions on his face where the ingredients.    Pity.    Sad.   Curiosity.   Bewilderment.   I hate him.    The expression on my face was that of indifference. After spending years of schooling my facial expressions, no expression without my consent ever graced my face with even the shadow of it's ugly head. Well at least that's what I like to think.     "You were r***d at the age of four, Athiss." Lieon said with a strained voice and clenched fist, taking in deep breaths as if he was starved of oxygen for years. "That's not right. You where a child." Lieon gasped.   I'm still a child I'm seven–fucking–teen and I'm a s*x slave. No one ever wanted to know if I was a child or not. My so called mate's double teamed me, without even knowing my f*****g age. They did even know my name, till now. No one ever wanted to know if I wanted to bend over or lie on my back and be f****d by a man or stick my c**k inside a woman's p***y.   s*x was engraved into my system, like a never fading tattoo. My body reacts to s*x as if it was made for only it. Well technically I am made for s*x. They said I was bried for it. At first, I and the others didn't understand them when they called me, us a bried of exotic slaves. But later on I finally understood, we all did. I became a s*x slave even before I was born. I wonder, if I was ugly, if I didn't have a strange and beautiful eyes. Eyes that no one had ever seen before. Black eyes, with flickers of gold in them. Dark toned skin, red lips, high chick bones, small slim straight nose that raised up, giving it a pixie look. I had wide hips that gave me a feminine shape. If I didn't look like a woman, without breasts. A woman that had a perfect body minus the boobs.  The perfect definition of an exotic slave...      Would I be in this amount of pain?