The Trials of Valeriya: Back in Bonds; Chapter 4/15

WARNING – ADULTS ONLY

Please be advised that this is sexually explicit material and is not to be viewed by minors under the age of 18. If you are not of legal age please close this window immediately.

All rights reserved. No part of this text may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

Copyright © 2014 by High Smut

All characters and events in this story are fictitious.
Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

THE TRIALS OF VALERIYA
BACK IN BONDS

Chapter 4

Valeriya’s next day was spent relaxing and taking care of the girly things—waxing her legs and nether lips, trimming her nails and such—and wandering around Tanacu, working out a plan. Tanacu was an old city—although not nearly as old as the capitals of other eight riverine kingdoms—situated by the marshy waterside of the river Langenrieth. It was a colorful jumble of multistoried buildings made of bricks and wooden planks, but no large stone structures can be seen in Tanacu.

Valeriya walked around the crammed marketplaces, talking to travelers and traders, inquiring about current Laski happenings. She learnt from a Laski wine merchant that Marquis Vlad of Gorczyca was currently residing indefinitely in his manor at Dolne, reasons: unknown. But it was rumored that he was going to petition something drastic before the king at the Congregation of the Houses before King Maxim’s Day. When asked about the marquis’ activities in Dolne so early before the congregation, the merchant could only reveal that Vlad’s time was spent terrorizing the girls in his bordello at the capital’s red-lantern district between rumored secretive meetings with other influential Laski nobles.

Valeriya considered the time well spent. All she had to do was keep drinking the ale the ogling merchant kept buying her and subtly direct the flow of their conversation. Valeriya rewarded the man by pressing her breasts against his arm and placing a wet, lingering kiss on his cheek.

“…genuine work of Tertius, the Summer Knight himself…” the somber voice, more than the words spoken drew Valeriya’s attention. It was a Cincuman—a very well dressed Cincuman. What was different about him, beside his classy threads, was his voice—there was a deep melancholic tone to his voice—and the painting he was holding up, although he looked little different from your common cheerful Cincumen otherwise.

“Ah!” the Cincuman cried happily when he saw Valeriya stop and stare. “An uncommon lady! With an uncommon taste in fine arts!” He lifted the heavy wooden framed painting higher so Valeriya could examine it better. “A portrayal by King Tertius himself! Of his own lady wife!”

It was indeed a fine piece. And how very Tertiusesque! It was a painting of Queen Hadriana, bathing under a weak waterfall—naked. She was beautiful. And the artist did her justice. “Very nice,” Valeriya acknowledged.

“It is, isn’t it?” The man was trying hard to keep his eyes locked onto her face. Not wishing to upset a potential customer away by ogling at her near-exposed breasts. “Such a rare piece… But for a lady of such loveliness as yourself, and with such refined tastes, I’ll let it go for mere 10 dragons,” the art merchant said, bowing his head in sad acceptance, and looking the part to match his melancholic voice. “Although, I must say, you’ll be robbing me blind.”

10 dragons! That’s more than eight month’s pay for a regular soldier! But the price was also the con man’s biggest error. The original piece would easily cost 25 times that amount. Besides, Valeriya had already seen the real one. “Very nice,” she repeated. “Did you draw it yourself?”

“What?! No!” the Cincuman rapidly shook his head in indignation. “Lady… How could you accuse me of such vile—”

“Oh shut up!” Valeriya cut him off impatiently. “I’m not going to turn you in. Now, did you make it yourself?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, turning around. His voice hadn’t changed; his countenance was that of a calm and relaxed person. But his panic-stricken eyes were darting in every direction. He headed for a road leading out of the marketplace. Valeriya followed.

Soon they were out of the crowded marketplace and headed towards the poorer section of the capital. “Come on!” shouted Valeriya from behind. She was having no trouble keeping pace, the Cincuman wasn’t moving very fast with that large, heavy frame. “I’m not going to hurt you.” She couldn’t help but giggle. “I just want to talk.”

The little swindler upped his speed. “Help me!” he yelled at a couple of idling guardsmen. “I’m being robbed!” The guards scrutinized their well-dressed compatriot, then the armed and scandalously attired Valeriya, and quite reasonably decided to help their fellow Cincuman. They stepped in front of her, barring the narrow road.

That little weasel! Valeriya was outraged. Then the idea struck her. Her lips curved with a knowing smile. She reached inside the coin pouch hanging from her sword belt and grasped the silver medallion she’d received earlier that day after lunch at the palace. She flashed it at the guardsmen and yelled, “In the name of the king, I order you to stop that man!”

Apparently her new title came with a badge. A sullen Prince Danior had come to her and shoved it into the palm of her hand, along with a note from his father. The king had thanked her for her services the night before, and requested her to not carry the medallion with her into Laski. It was large and round and resembled the likeness of a buckler with the prongs of a trident held upright in front of it. The guards took a good look at the medallion, then cursing, took after the con man. So it does have some benefits! Valeriya marveled. Cool!

The mountebank groaned in anguish when he saw what had transpired. He dropped his painting and ran for it. Valeriya picked up the painting on her way as she followed hurriedly. Soon she noticed a commotion up ahead on the road. A mixed crowd of regular and marsh-folk were surrounding a group of tangling Cincumen. The guards had successfully tackled their quarry.

Valeriya pushed through the crowd and helped the little guards to their feet. “Well done boys!” She patted their backs in commendation. “I’ll take it from here.”

“Yes ma’am.” “No problem ma’am.” Both of them blushingly replied to her tits.

Valeriya grabbed the little bilker by his collar and pulled him to his feet. “Party’s over folks. Back to your businesses you go now.” She pulled the apprehended Cincuman away from the disappointed crowd and farther up the road. Suddenly she pulled him into a dark alley and pinned him down against the wall of a rundown inn. “Why’d you run, man?” Valeriya asked angrily. “What had gotten into you?”

“P-Please don’t hurt me!” whimpered the man. All his composure had long deserted him.

Valeriya’s expression softened. I suppose the man had reason to run, she mused. He could do some real hard time if handed over to the authorities, selling forged arts as he was. “What’s your name?” she asked, loosening her grip on his lapels.

“B-Boiko, lady.” The man continued to look ill at ease.

“Relax, Boiko.” Valeriya smoothed the front of his coat with her hands and smiled reassuringly. “I mean you no harm. I just want to talk.” Boiko nodded with nervous hesitation. “This painting’s excellent. The resemblance is near accurate,” the blonde continued, holding the frame in front of him. “But see here,” she pointed at Hadriana’s chest, “you’ve made her breasts too full and her hips too rounded.”

Boiko nodded diminutively in reflection. “Yes… I see it now. But I got to see the original only once.”

“Aha!” exclaimed Valeriya. “So you did paint it!” She smirked, then continued quickly when she noticed Boiko’s face becoming pale, “’Tis okay, don’t worry. You did well. But if you’ve really seen the original, then you are a well traveled man.” He’s handsome in a ‘somber little boy’ sort of way, she thought. Boiko was about 5 feet tall; thin, in his thirties with dark, neatly back brushed hair and gray eyes. His coat was expensive, but had ink stains at the bottom of the sleeves. He looks educated and worldly. Perhaps he could… Valeriya pondered while Boiko shifted uncomfortably. “Do you forge other things as well?” she asked suddenly.

“Like what?” Boiko inquired suspiciously.

“Like… seals and documents?” Valeriya offered sheepishly. To which he started to shake his head violently. “Okay, okay, calm down,” she shook her free hand pacifyingly before him, then continued in a desperate tone, “I was just asking. I don’t want to get you into trouble. I just need some help … I’d make it worth your time? No?” Valeriya dropped her shoulders and sighed helplessly. “Here,” she handed him back his forged Tertius. “You can go.”

Boiko took his painting and moved hesitantly towards the alley mouth. Valeriya waited for him to turn back. Of course she wasn’t letting him go. She’d beat him into a bloody pulp to get what she needed. Valeriya would have used her signature spell on him, but they were in a crowded neighborhood. If she made it too weak, an intelligent sentient being like Boiko could easily resist. Make it too strong however, and hundreds of people would rush in to rape her. But she decided to wait and see for now. No point in being strong and sour when being sweet and vulnerable could do it just as easily. And right on cue, the Cincuman turned back.

“What do you need?” Boiko asked.

* * *

Valeriya left Tanacu the following day, this time with a new companion—Boiko. She had left most of her stuff—along with her trusty mount Norbet—behind at the palace, including her weapons and ‘armor’. Valeriya had donned a plain blue blouse along with full-length brown skirts, packed the things she was taking with her and handed the rest over to Durriken’s chamberlain for safekeeping, said goodbyes to the prince and the king, fetched her forger and hitched a ride with an empty ice wagon bound for Medgidia—to the Summer Road.

There had been a few changes to her original plan, namely the part involving Danior, with Boiko now taking on his place. The more Valeriya talked with the little con man, the more impressed she became with his level-headed and erudite demeanor. Definitely better suited than the prince for what Valeriya had in mind. Also, Boiko’s criminal background was also a big advantage. Her only concern was his trustworthiness. Can I trust a lowlife crook like him with my secret, the rational part of her mind had argued, perhaps my life?

Valeriya doubted whether the marsh-king would have even allowed his youngest to prance off to Dolne with her. And, she had a good feeling about Boiko. Her gut told her that she could trust him, and Valeriya had long since learned to trust her instincts. Besides, she knew just the thing to keep any tomfoolery at bay.

Boiko was hesitant at first when she offered him a bigger part in her grand plan than just forging some documents. But the lure of coin had proven too strong for him in the end. Boiko had taken well to intrigue after that. He was a natural, Valeriya decided.

Valeriya would’ve rather ridden Norbet in the lovely spring weather, but the wagon made good time. They reached Medgidia in four days. There they had to change their conveyance as the ice wagon was going north up the Summer Road while they were going south. But after a brief discussion with Boiko, Valeriya decided to rather than following the Summer Road south to Dolne, they’d travel further east to the river Merghindeal, and take boat from Araci. That would cut their time on road by at least five days.

And they did exactly that. On the sixth day after leaving Medgidia, they found themselves embarking on a riverboat in Araci. They sailed down the Merghindeal and after two more days, debarked at Dolne—capital of Laski, the eternal city of debauchery.

* * *

“I’ll give you no more than 10 dragons, little man,” said the bailiff. “And you should be grateful that I’m giving you anything. I should just take her. Who are you to own a slave? Crawling out of that hovel—”

“Just take her?!” Boiko spat back in outrage. “…In the king’s own city? …From his own law abiding, taxpaying citizen? I don’t think so!”

Valeriya cursed the spruce Cincuman. Then she cursed her own rotten luck. I sure know how to pick the cockiest bastards, don’t I? She had specifically instructed him to sell her here for any amount that doesn’t raise suspicion. And here he was bartering away like a fishmonger. Are all the Cincumen like this? Valeriya swore she’d kill him if he failed to get her inside of Vlad’s manor.

They had arrived here at Dolne on the previous afternoon. Boiko had shown the wharf officials his Laski identification and her ownership certificate—all fake of course—and got his city clearance. Then, as prearranged, he led his “slave” by the leash around her neck to a modest inn. Valeriya stood behind him passively with bowed head while he rented a room on the second floor.

Boiko ordered a bath for her before leaving to explore the city. Valeriya had used the free time to prepare and drink her monthly contraceptive potion, then take a long, relaxing bath and make herself pretty for their next day’s endeavor.

Boiko returned three hours later after successfully locating Vlad’s manor house. He also brought answers to many of her questions—like, if Vlad was still in the capital, or how many nobles had already arrived for the congregation. Then he led her downstairs for dinner. Valeriya waited on him like an obedient slave while he ate, then she herself ate while Boiko diced with a couple of jealous patrons.

A lowly Cincuman—albeit a well-groomed one from this side of the marshlands—owning such an exquisite slave as Valeriya raised many ill feelings, and not a few eyebrows. Also, Cincumen are not known for partaking in the common Laski practice of slavery.

In the morning Valeriya followed her ‘master’ to a shop where she was outfitted in a revealing far-eastern dress and suitable jewelry. Extremely low-rise harem pants and blouse with a plunging neckline—both in flimsy red and gold, strappy sandals, anklets and bracelets, clip-on nose and earrings, head and belly chains… it wasn’t cheap. But Valeriya wanted to look her servile best and not leave anything to chance.

To her chagrin, Valeriya wasn’t marched directly to Vlad’s manor. Instead Boiko led her to the red-lantern district and had her assessed by several Mesdames at the bordellos. She feared he was going to sell her off to whoever paid the highest price and just take the coin. Valeriya had offered him a handsome 5 dragons for his services—a pittance, compared to what the Mesdames were offering for her flesh. The forger remained silent and just shrugged sheepishly whenever she could find an arms’ spread of uncrowded space to demand explanation.

Valeriya thought herself clever for casting a Healing spell on Boiko earlier and saying that she had just hexed him, that if he tried anything funny he would not live long enough to regret his misdeeds. Valeriya had thought he looked sufficiently scared to buy into her lie. But now she wasn’t so sure. Perhaps it was a harebrained plan from the very beginning.

Her tension eased a little when Boiko finally hired an open-top carriage for an entire silver hart and instructed the coachman to drive to the upper district, where many of the Laski nobles and wealthy merchants—as well as nobles and merchants from all over the continent who wanted to partake in Laski lifestyle—maintained permanent residences. Valeriya knew the place well, having lived there once, when she was a slave for real.

Valeriya would be lying if she admitted to any feeling of nostalgia to see the city where she spent three years of her young life spreading thighs for a fat, disgusting man. But despite the stinking rot beneath her flawless skin, Dolne was the most beautiful city in the Nine Kingdoms. Valeriya thoroughly enjoyed her ride to the upper district despite Boiko’s errant hands shamelessly fondling her breasts. “We have to maintain the appearance,” he had whispered in her ear. The forger had grown quite bold, now that the time of their parting was near, she noted.

To her disappointment, Marquis Vlad didn’t appear himself when Boiko had demanded an audience about the potential sale of a fetching slave girl. Instead his steward had showed up. It would’ve been so much easier if Vlad could only just come to her in person and get torched to cinders. Valeriya had heard that Vlad went nowhere without his pet elf mage and half a dozen armed escorts. And his manor house was protected with powerful enchantments. That is the reason she had decided to infiltrate his house first, then safely terminate him from the inside. Well, relatively safely.

“Well, I didn’t say that I shall take her!” grunted the bailiff. “You have your papers it seems … and I must obey the king’s law,” he added grudgingly. “Why did you bring her here anyway?”

“Why, it’s written right here,” Boiko pointed to his fake identification document. “I’m from Jelonki. Lord Vlad is my liege lord. If I’m going to sell such a lovely slave girl as her—and I’m mad to even consider doing such a thing—I think it is my duty to give my lord the first right.” He nodded vehemently. Valeriya discreetly rolled her eyes. It was an answer prepared by her, but it still sounded a bit asinine in Boiko’s somber voice.

“Hmm. I suppose you’re right in this,” the bailiff said, scratching his chin. He was an ugly man, tall and muscular with a big smashed nose and several broken teeth. “How did you catch her? You surely didn’t buy her?” he inquired in his gruff voice.

“Of course not!” replied Boiko. “She came to me! Walked right into my doorstep and asked if I could feed and lodge her for the night.” The Cincuman sat down on an unoccupied chair without the bailiff’s invitation. The bailiff was interviewing them at his office in the manor’s ground floor. “I gave her more than that, heh-heh …” Boiko smiled evilly.

“Lucky little bastard,” the bailiff nodded with equal parts envy and approbation. “Tell you what, she’s not half bad looking. I’ll give you another 5.”

“What?!” Boiko cried in indignation, straightening his back abruptly on his seat. “Any establishment in the red-lantern district would pay 65–80 dragons for her any day of the week.” It was 47, 46 and 51 as it had turned out in the three bordellos he had taken Valeriya to for his ‘research’. “And if I wait a couple of weeks and auction her off from the great block on King Maxim’s Day, I can easily get a hundred, maybe even as much as 300 dragons.”

Is this for real?! Valeriya wondered when the bailiff didn’t refute Boiko’s outrageous claim. Maybe I should stop selling by blade and start selling my body! Of course, there were no guarantees that she would be able to run away from bondage every time. “Pardon?” inquired Valeriya meekly. She hadn’t been paying attention and missed the bit the bailiff had addressed at her.

“Insolent little wench, aren’t you?” the bailiff sneered. “I said git nekkid, cow!”

Valeriya looked at Boiko who nodded his assent. She supposed it was about time. One does not buy slave flesh without examining the merchandise first. First she undid her blouse and freed her breasts. Then lowered her pants as sexily as she could, arching her back and presenting her lush rear end to the Laski. Valeriya wore nothing beneath her sheer outer garments.

The bailiff grunted his appreciation. Valeriya lurched towards him as the burly man grabbed her by an elbow and pulled her to him for closer inspection. He felt her tits with both hands—kneading them, feeling their weight and marveling at their suppleness. “Very nice!” he crooned. Then he grabbed Valeriya’s face and thrust a couple of his thick, calloused fingers into her mouth and the blonde proceeded to suck on them.

“Shit! Eager little slut, aren’t you?!” he laughed. “Well, wait up hoyden. Let me check your teeth first.” The bailiff rolled his fingers around, feeling for her perfect while teeth. He deliberately gagged her a couple of times to check her reflex. After that he withdrew his fingers and turned her around. He grabbed and squeezed her rounded buttocks, feeling their firmness; he slapped them and noted how they jiggled.

The bailiff pushed Valeriya down on top of his desk, bending her over from the hips over the edge. He kicked her feet apart and opened her shaved pussy to him. The gruff man pinched her fleshy outer lips, feeling their plumpness, then pried them open to reveal the inner folds. He tweaked and pulled on them, spreading them apart to examine her pink paradise. Valeriya mewled at the pleasurable sensation of her nether lips being worked and promptly received a hard slap on her bottom.

“Keep it steady cunt,” the bailiff growled and slapped her ass again, which caused the blonde to moan louder. He pushed a couple of his dry fingers into her nectar box. “She’d tight. No surprise there…” He looked at the Cincuman—who was observing the proceedings quietly from his chair—pointedly.

The bailiff fingered her squelchy pussy for a while, then withdrew his digits accompanied by a moan of disappointment from Valeriya. He grabbed her lush buns and spread them apart. “I see her bunghole’s seen some action.” Her anal opening looked thicker and stronger than was normal, and it gaped slightly when her cheeks were pulled apart—the telltale sign of an anal whore. The bailiff spat on it and unceremoniously pushed both of his thumbs inside her anus. Valeriya sighed and pushed her ass back onto his hands. She needed this man to buy her. “She’s a natural cock-pleaser. No way had a runt like you trained her like this,” he told Boiko.

The Cincuman fought for every ram like a cornered badger, and in the end, they agreed upon a whopping sum of 60 dragons and 50 harts. Valeriya was quite taken aback. Apparently the price of a prime specimen of female flesh is worth more than the life of a Laski nobleman. Or perhaps Durriken has robbed me blind! Valeriya wished she could haggle as well as Boiko … as well as any Cincumen for that matter. I wonder if I can get a cut from that coin, she mused. ’Tis literally being made by selling my person! But knowing the stingy disposition of most Cincumen, Valeriya wouldn’t bet on it.

The bailiff counted out the coin and handed over the fat pouch to Boiko, who counted it again. Then the forger handed over her fake ownership certificate and signed the payment receipt the bailiff had prepared. “Welladay, I suppose this is goodbye,” Boiko said to her dolefully, then pinched her ass. “Be a good girl now.” Then he quite inexplicably hugged her! “You know I wouldn’t have sold you if I didn’t need the coin so bad?” he murmured, rubbing his face between her bare breasts.

Valeriya felt a sudden urge to stroke his hair. She didn’t know if she’d ever see a friendly face again. He had been good to her, behaved honorably until they had reached Dlone. But most importantly, he didn’t try to rat her out. Perhaps she had been wrong to scare him so with her ‘I have just hexed you so don’t try anything funny’ routine. “I know,” she said submissively, then added, “Master.”

Boiko let her go and started for the door. Then he stopped and turned back. What now? Valeriya wondered. But this time he addressed the bailiff. “Since I’m selling off all my prized possessions, I was thinking, I have a genuine Tertius painting in my room…” Oh dear gods…

© 2014 High Smut. All rights reserved.
Full story first published on highsmut.blogspot.com .

---