Hey, I’ve been sitting on this story for a while now. Please let me know what you think as I’m eager for feedback :)
This first part is pretty slow but it sets us up well for a chapter two ;)
___
Fey scrambled along the busy dockside in the search of her Trademaster, Rsun. He had sent her out earlier that morning to purchase Trysian Pearls, a shimmering violet pearl unique to these waters. Rsun would usually insist on haggling the trade himself, but he had stated that they would receive a better price if Fey were the one sent to negotiate. For this, she was grateful, as any opportunity for a slice of freedom was a blessing.
The dockside was a hive of activity; with sailors clambering from ships, merchants selling their wares at wooden stalls and city guards monitoring the chaos the best they could. Fey was no stranger to Trysia, as she and her Trademaster had travelled here yesteryear. The modest city had a sort of rustic charm in its weather-beaten storefronts and homes. She could lose herself as she spent too much time gazing at the many faces and peoples of the dock.
The second sun, Rzore, beamed brightly directly overhead. *Midday. Trademaster shall be fetching lunch.* She dashed onwards with a renewed energy – not wanting to be any later than she already was.
As she approached the Quayside Inn, she put her hand into her leather satchel and retrieved her pouch of pearls. She entered and was met with the Inn keep, Harold, a friend of her Trademaster.
“Ah youngling. You’ll find Rsun in the main hall with his lunch. You’ll be after grub too, I gather? Go sit, I’ll bring it roun’ to you.”
“Thank you, sir.” She responded. Fey was a blossoming young woman. Her slender petite frame, soft features and long silver hair led many to believe she was younger than she was. Rsun claimed that could be an advantage, though she failed to see how.
“Sorry I am late, Trademaster!” she said, sitting down beside him, and placing the pouch on the table. “The merchant proved stubborn. I spent the better part of two hours trying to get him to take me seriously.”
“Do not fret, child. A good deal done is never a failure in our eyes.” He responded, in-between sipping his soup. “Huber, our pearl merchant can be a stubborn fool at times, but I had every faith in you…” he continued, with a twinkle in his eye. He wore a dark green cloak emblazoned with a golden crest, which, in these parts, identified him as a member of the merchants’ guild. Rsun was known amongst his peers as the first merchant to peddle goods along the Viron River – a treacherous waterway that stretches from the northern peaks to Lgthara, a great ring city to the south.
They were interrupted with Harold setting down a bowl of soup, and a hard roll for Fey’s lunch. “Here you are, Dearie. Eat up” He said, kindly, before returning to the tavern entrance.
As Fey ate her lunch eagerly, Rsun opened the pouch to inspect the pearls. He checked their shimmer against the soft glow of orange light from their candle. “These are fine wares, young miss. We will be able to fetch a good price for these in the trade leagues to the north. Well done.”
Fey blushed at the older man’s comments. Rsun was never a harsh man, by any means, but he was rarely forthcoming with praise. “Thank you, Trademaster.” She responded meekly, before returning to attack her food.
“This afternoon,” said Rsun, as he packaged the pouch of pearls into his travelling pack, “I’ll be arranging for a wagon to carry us further north. You have the rest of the day free…”
Fey nearly choked, “R-r-really?” she asked, hoping he was serious.
“Yes, yes. I suppose I can’t keep you cooped up all time. Still, I want you back here before supper, understand?”
“Of course, Trademaster. Thank you, Trademaster.”
“Oh, and young miss, do be careful…”
___
*Half a day free… to do… anything.* Fey thought, still in disbelief at her luck. Her Trademaster usually had tasks for her, and even if he didn’t, it was rare for him to let her roam free.
She, yet again, found herself on the dockside, but this time, she had no sense of urgency in her step. She just wandered along, taking in all the sights, sounds and smells she could. *So many people. So many different lives and experiences…* She thought to herself. It was the main reason she had agreed to be Rsun’s apprentice, not two years ago.
Fey was an orphaned child in a small backwater village, far east from here. She had spent her days wandering the boundaries of her town, imagining the great wonders that lay out there beyond her grasp… One summers day, much to Fey’s disbelieve, Trademaster Rsun travelled through and stopped for the night. *This man has travelled all over the world!* she thought. *How many stories must he know?* She spent that evening in the village inn, star eyed, quizzing the aging wanderer with question after question.
When Rsun had floated the idea that she travel with him, she couldn’t believe it. She had no real sense of belonging there. Her grandmother was her only remaining family, though it was insulting to use the word. The bitter old woman had only grown more insular with passing years. She had no interest, and certainly no love, for foreign folks and their lands. “Mind your own…” she always used to say. Her grandmother always did see Fey’s curiosity as a curse…
As she wandered along, she came across the main thoroughfare of the town. Workshops, bakeries, taverns and other various establishments ran parallel to the road. In the distance, she spotted the governmental palace crested atop a hill in the centre of the city. In the name of spontaneous adventure, she followed the road with a spring in her step.
She was interrupted by two striking workmen bearing a litter.
“In need of a lift?” One of the lads asked with a toothy smile.
His eyes were a breath-taking shade of emerald green. Both lads were well defined; as though their arms had been sculpted from marble by a master artist. Their leather work-shirts were a snug fit, offering a teasing outline of what lay underneath. It was clear that hauling a litter had done wonders for their physique. In recent months, Fey found her mind increasingly occupied with all thing’s boys.
However, regardless of how alluring the two boys were, Fey was not interested in sitting in a cage – to be delivered like wheat from point A to point B. Rather she wanted to travel the road, and let the road take her, wherever that may be…
“No, thank you… ehm, sir” She responded, unsure of a suitable title. She walked off before the pair could tempt her further.
As she walked the cobbled road, she studied her fellow travellers; messengers bearing parchments for various governmental officials, labourers carrying supplies for their crafts, and the occasional street urchin, no more than a few years younger than herself, dashing through the streets.
After a short-time walking, she came across a branching path to her left. Though it was only late afternoon, and there was still a couple of hours of day, the alleyway seemed to be starved of light. She watched as two drunken sailors, laughing amongst themselves, walked down the alleyway. Curiosity prodded her onwards. Before she knew much more about it, she too, was walking down the path. Her new path. Fey always thought there was a plain beauty to be found in roads. They could lead you on to places unseen and people unmet. Roads, and the experiences thereon, changed you as a person.
So, she followed her feet as they led her on. The alleyway split into another. The sailors went left, and her feet followed. She followed them for no clear reason, other than an innocent curiosity to discover new paths. The sprawling labyrinths of passageways and lanes formed a messy underbelly to the city. These streets were murky. Not just in their unkept appearance due to the rundown buildings, but the air had a stale taste. Even the guards patrolling these paths had an ominous air to them – their beards, unkempt, and their uniforms, disorderly.
Ahead, the sailors led up to a wooden building with a dirtied red tapestry. At its entrance, stood two thug-like watch men, dressed in black, bearing cudgels, and a red haired older woman in a crimson risqué dress.
“Arisa!” one of the drunken sailors said jovially. Fey stood awkwardly ten paces back from the conversation, unsure whether to turn around or not.
“Ah so it’s you two! Back again I see! And to think, I was enjoying my day up until now…” she responded with a smear of sarcasm.
“Eh now…” responded the other sailor, with a slight slur to his words “Is that any way to be speaking to a loyal customer?”
“My girls are the about only thing you are loyal to, Rolo…” Arisa responded, with a playfulness to her voice.
“You’re as charming as ever, Arisa. What ever would we do without you…?”
“Go horny, I imagine…”
The two sailors chuckled heartily in response, though Fey didn’t find it particularly funny. One of the thugs opened the door and nodded for them to enter. “Oh Arisa, my Dear, I almost forgot… that girl back there has been following us for ten minutes… not a bloody clue why…” said one of the sailors, before vanishing inside with his friend.
Fey’s heart thundered in her chest. The two guards and Arisa stared at her. Though the mature redhead had a slight frame, there was a silent ferocity in her stare. Fey found herself, perhaps falsely, warier of Arisa, than the two thugs.
“Come closer, Child.” Arisa said softly. Her tone was both a surprise and a reassurance to Fey. *I’ve done nothing wrong.* She thought, trying to calm herself. She walked forward until she stood two paces away. Fey was shorter than the older woman – she was still waiting for her growth spurt to happen. She met Arisa’s ocean-blue eyes and found the ferocity replaced with a pondering curiousity. To either side of her, the guards also stared at her. One looked on with a blank expression, almost bored. The other eyed her hungrily.
“Aren’t you a little young to be wandering *these* streets, child?” Arisa said.
“I’m sorry Mistress… I didn’t mean to… I was only curious” Fey responded. She stole a quick glance at the guard to find him still eyeing her whole body intensely. He seemed to gaze at her curves; drinking up her small cup breasts and the gap between her slender thighs. She felt so insignificant beneath the giant brute’s stare, and confusingly, her tummy fluttered in response.
Arisa stepped closer and ran her fingers through Fey’s flowing silver hair, which fell just past her shoulders. “What is your name?”
“Fey.”
“Fey; a pretty name for a pretty girl…” Arisa said with a reflective tone. She seemed to be chewing a thought that no-one else, or at least not Fey, was privy too.
“Thank you, Mistress” she responded modestly. “I-I should be going… sorry again…”
Arisa seemed to snap out of her quizzical gaze. “Nonsense, Fey. Look at you… I won’t have such a pretty girl dressed in those boyish clothes. Why don’t you come inside? I’ve got some lovely frilly dresses that would suit you!”
The thought was more tempting to Fey than she’d like to admit. She’d only ever known boy-like clothes; her grandmother had said that she refused to waste perfectly good lace on a little girl that would just get it covered in dirt, and Rsun… Well, Rsun didn’t even see her as a girl. In truth, he saw her as an apprentice merchant, whose clothing should be suitable for traveling the four corners of the world.
Even still, she found herself hesitant. “I’d love to, but I really should get going…”
“Oh, don’t be silly Fey. It’ll not take long. Come on!” Arisa said. The slender redhead put her hand on her back and led her inside.
___
Rose’s heart thumped with an eager anticipation. Huber, a recurring client, did *love* to make her squirm and beg. He was a welcome change from the usual clientele; drunken sailors and workmen who, let’s say, left something to be desired. Huber, however, just *knew* how to make Rose *click*. His sexual appetite was every bit as depraved hers, and she loved it.
Today, he had her roleplaying as some apprentice girl named Fey. From his description of her, Rose reckoned she was quite the little heart breaker with her pert body and long silvery hair. Naturally, with Huber being Huber, he requested that Rose act as this girl, so he could kidnap her and ruin her over and over… A part that Rose was more than willing to play.
The chains, tight around her wrists, were looped around a wooden support beam. She was trapped there, topless; clothed in only a pair of white panties, which straddled the line between the innocent underwear of a cutesy girl and the risqué underwear of a cock-addicted slut. Not that she reckoned she would be wearing them for long. Huber enjoyed ripping them off her before he raped her. Her pussy muscles pulsed just at the thought of it.
The door slammed open. Huber stood there – tall, brooding, imposing. He, too, was clothed only in a pair of underwear. Huber was a thick-limbed, broad-chested man. Rose could make out the bulging outline of his meaty cock. She resisted the urge to lick her lips at the sight of it; she was not Rose the Insatiable Slut, but rather Fey the Innocent Apprentice. She feigned terror.
“Wh-what do you want with me?!” she said in a frightened voice worthy of a kidnapped girl. She forced a single tear to roll down her cheek.
Huber slammed the door shut and bounded towards her. Rose scurried backwards, though she was trapped, and gave a girlish shriek of fear “Leave me alone!” *Own me, you brute of a man.*
As she tried to crawl away, being sure to wiggle her ass at him ever so subtly, Huber clenched her by the hips and hauled her backwards. Just as Rose tried to scream louder, Huber wrapped his hand over her mouth and smothered it. “I know you want this, Girly…” He whispered seductively into her ear. There was no denying Rose fucking *needed* it but Fey, however, was surely far too innocent for this filth… right?
___
Arisa waded through the brothel’s catalogue of petite dresses in the girl’s changing quarters. The dresses varied greatly in size, colour and design, all in the attempt to satisfy every desire of the house clientele. Commonly, their desires were nothing unusual; horny men just looking for any random whore to empty their seed. Other times, however, their taste could be more *specific.* Some men, for example, had a thing for innocent girls just like Fey…
It was Arisa’s job to make sure that, regardless of whether she loved or loathed them, every customer left *The Maiden’s Head* satisfied. One aspect of doing so, was ensuring that there were enough tasty “treats” on display…
“What do you think about this dress, Pet?” Arisa asked Fey. The dress she held was cream in colour and would perfectly complement her petite frame. Judging by the way Fey’s eyes lit up, she knew the answer before she spoke.
“Yes Mistress, I love it! I really do! But gold… I don’t have any to pay for this!”
“Oh Fey, I don’t want your money…” Arisa responded, giving a smile. *Although I do want something from you…* she thought to herself. “Strip yourself out of those horrid threads and try this on.” Fey gave a moment of hesitation as if she were expecting Arisa to leave the room. “Oh Fey, don’t be shy! We are all just girls here.”
“Umm, yes mistress, of course.” Fey responded hesitantly. She was just what needed Arisa needed. Innocent enough to scared about what she was doing, but still curious enough to go through with it…
___
Rose let a moan slip through her lips as Huber plunged his cock inside her from behind. He took a fistful of her hair and yanked her head backwards mercilessly. Each new stroke was slightly faster and more forceful than the last. She squealed for him to stop but that was, of course, futile. Once she was locked within his grasp, no Man, God or Force could ever stop him from emptying his seed into her tight needy cunt.
There was no denying that Rose was insatiable. Regardless of how many times she’d been fucked that day – she would always want more. No – *need* more. Huber was the only man who came close to scratching her unscratchable itch. Some people may see her situation as a curse, or perhaps an ailment of the body or the mind. But if that were the case, why did she have so much fun? It was as if she was made for this! The prophets say some men are blessed with the spirit of the Warrior – it is their soul passion in life to seek out combat and glory. Perhaps then, Rose was somehow blessed with the spirit of a whore – to spend every sun and moon yearning for more pleasure.
“Ple- please help! *Anybody*!” she shrieked in a girly voice. Huber merely grunted in response.
___
Innocence, personified. That’s what Arisa was hoping to capture in Fey. The girl stood, nude, in the centre of the changing quarters. She was clearly unfamiliar, and a tad uncomfortable, with someone staring at her nakedness. Fey kept shifting her weight from one leg to the other; unsure of how to stand and where to look.
The youth was small – even for Arisa – standing at what we reckoned was just under 5 feet tall. Her exotic silver hair matched the colour of her eyes. Her budding, pert breasts were crested with rose coloured nipples, and shaped like fresh Lunaberries. Her slender, tantalising thighs were only made even more teasing with her pale complexion.
Arisa prided herself on her ability to reel in new “talent”. Girls whose supple young bodies had not yet been corrupted; their malleable minds open to new ideas. Most girls would flee at the mere mention of a whorehouse, but today, this lost little kitten had wandered straight into her den.
Arisa helped Fey pull on her new dress. It suited her perfectly. She suspected if the drunken men in drinking hall were here, they would spare no time in ripping it off her. Admittedly, the thought excited even Arisa – reminding her of her own wild, youthful adventures. Flashbacks of spending her teenage years in the service of a mercenary company; being passed from footman to footman.
Leading Fey to the vanity mirror, she asked “what do you think, pet?”
Her face beamed with a gleeful smile. She spun around to admire every angle of her new attire. “So pretty!” She responded. Although, no sooner had she said it, before her expression saddened somewhat. “I wish I could wear these dresses all the time” Fey said with a longing tone.
*“Look at those eyes…*” Arisa thought with wonderment. “*She doesn’t just want this, she yearns for it… even if she may not fully realise it yet.”*
“You know, you remind me of former self, Fey.”
“I-I do?” Fey responded, somewhat puzzled.
“Oh yes. I know of the thoughts you have, the burden you must carry. I’ve felt it too… The Thirst.”
“The Thirst?”
Arisa smirked at the girl’s naivety. “The Thirst is that niggling urge you just can’t shake. You know that urge I speak of, don’t you Fey? The one that gnaws at you. Pushes you. Torments you. No matter where you are, the time of day or your state of mind; deep down, it is *always* there.” Arisa let her hands wander. Her fingers danced teasingly along the girl’s neckline. “You try your best, don’t you dear, to fight it? To smother your flame?”
Fey offered only a feeble nod in response. Arisa could sense the nervous but excited energy springing from Fey as she delicately traced her hands around her neck.
“But despite your best efforts, The Thirst continues. It swells within you as a bubbling pool of lustful zeal. Ever increasing, ever demanding. Some girls feel The Thirst only faintly. Others, like you however, are engrossed by it. Every single girl *deserves* an awakening, Fey. Every girl, an opportunity to blossom and explore their very self.”
Fey stood silent for a moment, anticipating more, but responded finally after forcing the words out. “Wh-what does it feel like?”
“What does what feel like? Arisa responded, being deliberately wide-eyed. She moved closer until she spoke temptingly close to the girl’s ear. “Oooh” she continued with a sultry voice. “You want to know what it’s like… to *fuck?*”. The word alone was enough to make Fey squirm. “What it’s like to be *ravished?* To be *dominated*? To feel euphoric bliss?”
The girl whimpered in response. Her eyes were closed. She was doing all she could to resist her urges.
“It doesn’t feel like you imagine… Oh no, it feels far, far *better*.
A soft moan escaped Fey’s lips. She was like a purring kitten desperate for attention. An attention that Arisa was all too happy to offer her.
“Shall I show you, Fey? Shall I help you satisfy your burning desire?”
Fey nodded.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/e14apf/chapter_one_a_trade_in_trysia
Wow, next-level writing here. Great storytelling. Feels like the beginning of an epic series. Thanks for posting.