The Thief and his Willow

The Thief and his Willow

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Chapter Six: Rye’s Secret

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A pen, dripping with ink, wrote on a small piece of parchment. The holder of the pen was Jalal, sitting by a small lit candle. The remainder of the room was dark. Behind Jalal, a woman lie sleeping under layers of covers. Jalal has been writing for a long while, signing many contracts and papers he used for finding slaves to sell.

He takes no notice as the woman in his bed rises from slumber. She wraps a small sheet around her nude body, covering her rather large bosom. Brushing back dark hair, she sneaks up behind Jalal and wraps her gentle arms over his body. “Mm, why aren’t you in bed with me?”

“Sorry,” Jalal said. He had not even startled by her sudden appearance. “I’m finishing up some papers. I’ll be in shortly.”

“You and your work,” sighs the woman. She chuckles, giving Jalal’s neck a soft pucker. “What is it with you and work?”

“Fine opportunity,” Jalal answers. “Opportunity, fame, and of course, hard-earned dough.”

“Of course,” the woman giggles. She rests her chin on Jalal’s shoulder, glancing down at the many parchments he had before him. “Lord Bobo, Lord Nefra, and…” The woman’s eyes widen. “Lord Zorc?”

“Are you surprised?”

“Quite,” the woman laughs. “I had no idea you sold slaves to the almighty Lord Zorc. No one gets to see his face, except for his slaves. How do you trade with him?”

Jalal smirks. “He has -- a special attendant.”

“Special, huh?” Again, the woman giggles. She wraps her arms more tightly around Jalal’s, sighing in his ear. It was turning him on, but he had to finish with his work. “Is this attendant really that special?”

“Yes.” Jalal answers without stumble. His friend pouts. She stares sadly into his eyes.

“More special than me?”

Chuckling, Jalal signs a final parchment before standing. He turns to his woman friend, giving her a sweet kiss before pulling off the sheet that hung lose on her. “Of course not.” He takes her left breast in hand, giving her hardening nipple a ravishing kiss. She moans, allowing him to push her back onto the covers on his bed. Their lips lock, both moaning with lust.

“Mm,” the woman sighs, as Jalal pulls his lips from hers. “You seem very tense, Jalal. What is it that’s bothering you?”

“It’s not what’s bothering me,” Jalal smiles. He gives the woman’s left nipple a sharp lick, teasing it. “I’m just excited, is all. I plan to do something very dangerous, but if I succeed, I’ll get to meet the almighty Zorc.”

“W--what are you going to do?”

Jalal smiles as he unzips his pants. He pulls them down, placing his long, hard-on cock between his lover’s breasts. She pushes them over, allowing Jalal to breast-fuck her. “I’m going to sneak into Zorc’s lair.”

--

(Three weeks later)

It has been three long weeks, but Rye’s body was beginning to understand her daily routine. She has had many downfalls, including getting orange juice in her eye and accidentally breaking a large bucket of plates the servants used. Otherwise, she has not hurt herself too bad.

When not on duty, Rye would spend most times of the day locked in Bakura’s bedroom chamber. She ate breakfast and dinner with him, and throughout the days he’d ask her random questions about herself, her family, and personality. Rye hated talking about her past, and bringing up past stories always had tears streaking her cheeks, but only when she lie in bed later at night. She had promised Bakura she would not cry -- not since that first day she had arrived when he allowed her to cry into his chest.

But Rye took notice of Bakura’s personality throughout these last few weeks. He has changed. He’d come back late at night, drunk as a hyena. Rye, afraid if he knew she was up, feared he might take a chance and rape her. Luckily, nothing has happened, but anytime she smelt alcohol on his breath, she’d hide under her covers.

She had promised herself, since day one at Zorc’s dungeon, that’d she’d escape. She’d escape and go on a search for her father.

This promise she has yet to make.

-

Since his slave’s arrival, Bakura has lived in misery. He has, many times, pleasured his body while listening to Rye bathing just next door, but it wasn’t fucking enough! He hungered for her. He longed to touch her, to feel her, to kiss and caress her.

He needed her!

But Jalal’s image still laughed in his face! Now, Bakura would drink more than he used to. He felt miserable, alone. He knew Rye did not like him. He hardly talked to her now. Every morning, she’d dress and he’d immediately take her to the kitchens. Not seeing her all day, he’d return around 3:30 to 4:00, drop her off at his chamber, and then disappear until late, late at night. Usually by that time, Rye was already asleep in her bed.

Sometimes, Bakura pondered what she did when he left her in there.

He imagined she probably cried half the time, breaking her promise. He didn’t give a fuck anymore. He allowed her to be miserable too.

--

Bakura has not seen Jalal since that day, but with his luck, Jalal was arriving that day with new arrivals. Bakura could hardly wait.

He takes his time stepping outside. He still had a migraine from the night before. He had drunk over ten shots that night before: a new record for Bakura.

He enters the court where he chose slaves for Zorc. He already saw young beauties lining up, waiting for inspection. But there was no sign of Jalal.

Sighing, Bakura begins to examine the slaves. He already had a good few on mind.

Jalal had done good that time.

“Hello Bakura, it’s been a while.”

Bakura groans, watching as Jalal immerges through the gate with three more women. He ordered them to stand in line before stepping over to Bakura. Bakura kept his gaze off Jalal, still pissed at the man for ruining his chance at sex.

“You look terrible,” Jalal smirks. “Is your new ‘friend’ giving you a hard time?”

Bakura did not answer. He kept his gaze forward. The many slaves could see hate in Bakura’s eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Jalal. “I forgot that she can’t give you any time at all, hard or good.” Jalal chuckles, watching Bakura as Bakura quickly grabs two random women from the line. He did not even look to see if they fit worthy to Lord Zorc. Throwing a few coins on the ground, Bakura disappears, dragging the two shocked women behind him.

Grunting in disgust, Jalal bends over to pick up his earned dough. He counts the coins; a few short.

Damn you, Bakura!

--

Rubbing his eyes, Bakura gives the two women a better glance. Thankfully, both of them were rather beautiful. He knew Zorc would accept them. He sighs, rubbing at his hair, trying to release his frustration. What he had done back there was very unprofessional. He knew that pretty soon, Zorc would take notice of his change.

He faces those two large doors.

Here I go again, Bakura sighs to himself. He opens the two doors, and steps through them just in time to see the finishing of a show. He tries turning his head from the two slave women, sliding their fingers in and out of one another, their bodies entangling each other like a pretzel. Lord Zorc motions Bakura to come in. Bakura does so, keeping his head low. Shortly after, both slaves echo lust-filled screams throughout the room as both release pleased orgasms.

Once the show is over, Zorc motions Bakura and the two ‘new’ ladies closer. “Bakura, you have returned early. Why is that?”

“Nothing, my master,” bows Bakura. “Jalal just didn’t have a lot of excellent choices for your pleasure, this time.”

In fact, Jalal did. But Bakura couldn’t admit his faulty act.

“Hmm,” Zorc groans. He keeps his eyes on the two nude slaves, watching them clean themselves off with sponges and buckets of ice water. “Bakura is loyal and good to me. He brings me many beautiful women each day, but Bakura seems to be way off balance. Why is it that he is so angry and frustrated?”

Bakura gasps -- a little too loudly. Zorc answers with a loud roar. Smirking, Bakura shakes his head. “You can see right through me, master.”

“That is my gift,” Zorc said. He rubs at his chin. “But the question I am rather curious about is this. Why is it that Bakura is so angry?”

Bakura bites his bottom lip until he tasted blood. Sweat inches down his brow, landing as a tiny droplet on the ground. Zorc took notice of Bakura’s nervousness. “My dear attendant, have I not been good to you these past few years? Have I not gone and given you your own room? Have I not paid you every day for your efforts? Have I not, just recently, given you a special present to use in any way that pleases you?” And at that mentioning, Zorc took heed of the tension rising over Bakura’s body. “Ah, so am I right on that? Why do you tense at that question alone?”

“Forgive me, master,” Bakura stutters. “I--I loved your generous offer. It is not you that is making me feel angry.”

“Then why do you tremble by that question? Has she not pleased you as she should?” Again, Zorc’s question is replied by the shaking of Bakura’s uncontrolled body. “Bakura, is it not in the master’s will to punish his slaves when they do not obey?”

“It is not like that, my master,” Bakura said swiftly. He suddenly wished he hadn’t, for Zorc’s gleaming gaze pierced his heart forcefully. The sight of Zorc’s red eyes orders Bakura, demanding in explanation. “M--my master, on that day, I had found her. She stood, perfectly beautiful. I knew I wanted her, so I told so to Jalal. However, afterwards, he had told me that -- that she was not to be touched as a sexual slave. He had told me he had specific orders…”

Zorc chuckles. “Then why did you take her, Bakura? I know your body aches for pleasure, does it not?”

“I don’t know why I chose her,” Bakura admits. “But she was just so -- so beautiful. I knew I wanted her either way.”

There is no reply from his master. Bakura quickly looks up, noticing that Zorc eyed him suspiciously. Keeping his calm, Bakura re-lowers his gaze, trying best not to faint.

“Hmm,” Zorc moans, slouching in his seat. “Is it not sad when a man can’t have that one special piece of meat he desires?” Zorc pauses, watching his attendant cower at his words. Zorc chuckles. “Bakura, is it by chance Jalal was not being honest with you? And even if he was honest, couldn’t you, by chance, easily forget his words through accidental reasons, and go ahead with giving your body the desire it wishes?”

Bakura becomes startled by his master’s words. He rises his head, staring almost dumfounded. “Master?”

Zorc lets lose a dynamic chuckle. “Your face! Priceless! You know I am right? I know you are eager. You shall do as your body wishes, but do not allow my words to leave you so soon. You may go now.”

Bowing, Bakura stands and takes his leave.

--

He leans against those doors, nearly breathless by Lord Zorc’s strong words. Could he do such a thing as his master said? Could Bakura steep so low as to taking a slave meant to work in the kitchens?

And yet, Lord Zorc had a point. Jalal could have been lying to him. Jalal has so many times before, angering Bakura with vicious words. Jalal bragged. But that time, Bakura had been the bragger. He was able to have a slave of his own, and when Jalal found this out, Jalal grew jealous. Though, Bakura was unsure why. He is positive Jalal received many women of his own to fuck like crazy.

Slowly, Bakura makes his way towards the kitchens to fetch Rye. He did not know what to do. Should he go through with it? Should he not?

His head hurt. He grabs at it, yelling in misery as he makes his way into the kitchens. Greeted by Hana, Bakura retrieves Rye. She was covered in flour, which added this adorable look to her. Bakura ached between his legs at the sight of her floury face.

When the two silently make it to Bakura’s room, he stands staring as she eats dinner he has provided. She slurps on some noodles, (a rare treat in Kumal) while Bakura took a sip of wine. She was beautiful, though she ate like a man. She slurps her noodles, the ends just touching her chin before going through her lips.

Almost feeling his eyes on hers, Rye looks up. She took notice of his eyes, blazing gloriously. Bakura stood frozen, his glass just touching at his lower lip. Feeling as if she had done something wrong, Rye apologizes in a whisper. She tries to eat more politely, wiping at her chin with a piece of cloth provided as a napkin after each bite she took.

“You are fine,” Bakura said. Setting his glass down, Bakura goes to sit in front of Rye. He kneels, grabbing at an apple off the tray. “Rye, I am going to ask you a question, and I want you to be fully honest with me.”

Rye grew nervous. She sets her bowl down, and folds her hands, sitting in that ever proper seating. She looks up at Bakura. “Yes?” She hadn’t even bothered to say, ‘Yes, master?’

“Of what Jalal told me,” Bakura begins, “You are not a sex slave. Correct?”

Lowering her head, Rye nods.

“May I ask why?”

Startled, Rye lifts her head swiftly. She seemed befuddled by the question, and Bakura took hint of sweat forming at her peach brow. “Beg pardon?”

“Why?” Bakura asks again. “Why can’t I have what I desire?”

Rye drops her bowl, spilling noodles to the floor. She panics, and does her best to tidy her mess. But Bakura stops her, grabbing at her wrist harshly. He does not injure her; however, he causes warmth against the skin. “Leave it!” Bakura said. “And answer my question. Why are you destined to work you life cooking and cleaning?”

“I--it was my father’s idea,” Rye whispers. Bakura struggled to hear her.

“Why?”

“H--he gave Jalal lots of money,” Rye said. “He did t--to keep me pure.”

“WHY!”

“I don’t know!” Rye finally cries, pulling her wrist from Bakura’s grasp. She backs away. “Please, leave me alone!”

Angered from his slave’s order, Bakura swiftly stands. He moves over to her, grabbing at her by the hair. She shrieks, clawing at him to let go, but his grasp is strong, and he makes sure her eyes focus on his own. She could see a willingness in his eyes. They were in fire! But, Rye could also see hurt and discomfort, something she has not seen before. Was Bakura that sad? Did he really want to have her because she’s beautiful? Or really because he’s a man and she’s a woman?

Either way, Bakura could not take her.

He just couldn’t.

He releases her. She falls to the floor, but she keeps her gaze on Bakura, him standing tall and scary. He was shivering, and soon, he exits, leaving Rye alone to weep.

--

Bakura entered Baker’s Bar only moments later, ordering a strong, full glass of sake: ‘On the double!’ He sits in his usual seat, a stool that shifts as if it’d break at any second. The bar was rather crowded, but Bakura ignored half the glares being shot in his direction. They all knew him: nearly everyone in Kumal knew of the man who had snuck into Zorc’s lair.

But beyond his knowing, another has entered the bar, one keen on making his life hell.

Jalal smirks, seeing the back of one familiar face. Bakura had cheated Jalal of money that morning, but Jalal had so willingly teased the thief, he didn’t care on the matters of Bakura’s feelings, and what Bakura would attempt. But that night, Jalal had his dearest friends with him, two strong men, of who Bakura has picked fights with many, many times before. Of course, all fights were held outside of Baker’s Bar. Baker was Bakura’s good friend, and he didn’t want to mess the man’s bar up.

With comrades by his sides, Jalal walks over to Bakura. He sits next to Bakura, and says, “You know, I really dislike it when someone cheats me of profit.”

Growling under his breath, Bakura turns a glare towards Jalal’s direction. Jalal only smirks at Bakura’s weakness.

“I would really like the rest of my pay,” Jalal says as his two ‘friends’ stand behind him. “If you don’t mind?”

“Jalal, don’t you go starting any fights in my bar!” Baker yells from behind the counter.

“It’s fine, Baker,” Bakura suddenly speaks. He stands to his feet, shoving a hand in his pocket. “The man is right, after all. It’s not fair to cheat someone off, especially if they had hopes for something they had paid for -- in full fucking price.”

Jalal knew Bakura’s words, knowing what Bakura was getting act. He chuckles as Bakura throws three coins on the countertop. Jalal goes to grab him, but a hand stops him: Bakura’s. “Those are for Baker.”

Bakura turns to leave, but Jalal grabs him from behind. “Give me my pay, or else!”

“Take your hand off of me,” Bakura snarls. Jalal does so, obviously showing his sign of weakness. Bakura turns to face him. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? You think your perfect, but you’re not. None of us are. You see me as weak because I serve my master well, but because I serve him does not mean I can’t make my own choices. There are times I take his advice, and most of those times I disagree with him. But just this afternoon, he gave me some great advice. You -- you think I’m weak, Jalal, but you are just as weak as I! You standing there, hiding behind your fucking loonies.”

The larger man steps up, but the rising of Jalal’s hand holds the man in place.

“I’m not going to fight you,” Bakura snorts. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to take my leave.”

“You won’t get away with this.” Jalal snarls before taking his leave. His two men follow.

Once the trio exits, Bakura releases his tensed muscles. Still angry, he was glad that finally, after such a long torture of putting up with much of Jalal’s shit, he has stood his ground. He has faced Jalal. And doing so made Bakura realize just how miserable he had been -- ever since he became Zorc’s attendant. He was weak. He has hidden from the outside world, and has served for so long to Zorc, cowardly fearing the Lord’s upper status. And Bakura had feared Jalal.

There was a time when Bakura feared no man. He nearly forgot those times, back when he was a thief. How could he have stooped so low?

Not anymore.

Leaving the bar, Bakura makes his way back for Zorc’s Lair. No longer will he stoop to the level of a rat. No longer will he allow those weaker than him to turn him into something he is not. And no longer would he allow his cravings to be ignored.

Not anymore!

--

Rye lie in her bed, trying her hardest to fall asleep. She hardly picks up the upcoming footsteps, but when the door bursts open, she shrieks to a sitting position as her eyes rest over her worst fear: Bakura.

He stared glaring at her for a moment before slamming the door behind him. Keen as a wolf, Bakura swiftly dashes to his prey, and he pounces her. In sudden fear, Rye begins to cry out as she struggles against Bakura’s weight, yelling at him to get off of her. His ‘kinder’ side has disappeared, and he no longer ached by Rye’s tears.

“Please stop,” Rye begs. “Please!”

Bakura pauses, but only to lecture his darling slave. “Since the moment I saw you, I’ve wanted you so bad! And for three fucking long weeks I’ve kept my hands off of you! I fell for your pathetic tears and your sorrow-filled heart! But I care no longer! I want you, Rye! I need you! Please satisfy my body!”

As Bakura pulls her pants down, Rye screams, covering herself with the length of her robe. Bakura grabs her legs. “You’re so beautiful Rye,” Bakura pants, finally spreading Rye wide, giving him access to what lie beneath. “Stop fighting…”

And Bakura freezes over.

A thief had purchased a young willow, so beautiful and fair. His body had ached for hers since day one, and finally he had his moment to shine, and to get what he wished. His hopes for the softness of a women’s vagina, gleaming with a wetness he longed to taste, vanished. His hopes to spread apart delicious pink lips, seeing the greatness and feeling around its insides with his wild cock, vanished.

Instead, after all he’s been aching for, Bakura is awarded something he had not expected. Instead of being greeted by Rye’s female beauty, he was granted by a bundle of lies. Instead of soft, warm pink lips, he is granted with an average limp stem with round, shaven jewels. Instead of getting his wish, Bakura got nothing!

And as his eyes avert to Rye’s face, as his puzzlement and anger rises, all he’s awarded with is Rye’s trembling words:

“I was going to tell you. I swear!”

-Chapter Six End-

Well? Tell me what you think, and please review! Chapter Seven coming soon!