In the expansive bedroom, bathed in the soft glow of daylight streaming through two grand windows, stood a captivating young woman. Clad in little more than golden adornments, her lithe figure was accentuated by the cascading waves of her dark, ebony hair, flowing down to her hips like a silken waterfall. The room itself exuded opulence and sophistication, adorned with lavish furnishings and artistic treasures.

At the heart of the chamber stood an imposing four-poster bed, its drapes adorned with rich green silk that whispered tales of luxury. Two towering wardrobes loomed in the corners, their mahogany frames exuding an air of regality. A meticulously arranged desk boasted a collection of carefully selected books, their spines hinting at a thirst for knowledge and exploration. Adorning the walls, an array of exquisite paintings transformed the room into a gallery of visual delights, each stroke capturing moments frozen in time.

As the young woman stood amidst this realm of grandeur, an ethereal aura seemed to envelop her, blending with the elegance of her surroundings. She embodied both grace and mystery, an enigma waiting to be unraveled within the walls of this resplendent sanctuary.

In her hand a stick. A tool perfect for inflicting pain.

There was also a naked boy in there, standing on a stool with a hemp rope around his neck, reaching up from above, a wooden beam under the roof it was thrown around. It originated all the way from the bed itself, as it was fixed to one of the legs. A bit of the rope was as well around his arms and feet, tying them together.

Contrary to her, he looked average. He had a decent face and a bush of curly hair.

His eyes focused on his own toes in an attempt not to look at the pretty face of the girl. Her thick dark eyebrows, long lashes, and big hazelnut eyes. The firm light brown breasts he could cup with his hands, with dark nipples hard as rocks showing her excitement.

It was unbelievably hard for him to not steal a glance urged by the temptation, so he did. He noticed the hair above her womanhood perfectly trimmed into a single line. He has never seen something like that, despite already witnessing a body of a naked woman before. Other slaves sold just like him.

"Do you like what you see?" she inquired, her voice laced with a hint of seduction, accompanied by a mischievous smile dancing upon her lips.

He dared not meet her gaze, for it was an enchantment he could not resist. Instead, his eyes wandered, fixated on the floor, as he struggled to control his desires. The air grew heavy with tension, his breath held captive within his chest.

In a sudden eruption of fury, she unleashed her wrath upon him, her hand wielding a cruel instrument of punishment. With a resounding crack, the stick collided with his face, leaving an indelible mark upon his skin. Despite enduring a life of hardship, the blow unleashed a torrent of tears, mingling with the anguish etched upon his countenance.

Slowly, he turned his face towards her, the weight of defeat visible in his eyes. And there, he succumbed. Her very presence ignited an uncontrollable fire within him, awakening desires he could not suppress. His gaze fixated upon her, drawn magnetically to her captivating allure, as his body betrayed him as his member grew to full salute, mesmerized by the girl’s beauty.

A scoff of disdain escaped her lips, her foot lashing out to strike the stool upon which he stood. It toppled beneath him, the ropes tightening around his throat, constricting his breath. He writhed in a desperate struggle, his face growing flushed as blood coursed through his veins. The agony of asphyxiation consumed him, his plea for mercy barely a whisper.

"Please..." he gasped, his voice barely audible amidst the torment.

But she remained unmoved, resolute in her conviction. In her eyes, he was nothing more than a repulsive swine, deserving of the fate that had befallen him. For he had defiled her, tarnishing the honor of a noble lady, a princess. And so, the consequences of his transgression hung heavy in the air, an irreversible sentence for his grievous sins.

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"Please..." His desperate plea almost silent, his voice a fragile thread of hope in the face of imminent death. Like a fish ensnared on a hook, he thrashed and fought against the tightening grip of the noose, his struggles a futile dance of resistance. But the binds constricted relentlessly, depriving him of precious air, and extinguishing the flicker of life within him.

"Please..." he whispered once more, his words fading into silence as the struggle ceased. His body, suspended and lifeless, swayed gently in the stillness of the room, a macabre pendulum bearing witness to the irreversible fate that had claimed him.

"Vere!" she cried out, her voice piercing the air with urgency. The doors swung open, revealing a towering figure, a man of strength and grace. His smooth, dark skin contrasted against his flowing, partially-tied locks, adorned with beads that whispered secrets of distant lands. Clad in leather pants and a vest that accentuated his sculpted physique, he exuded an aura of authority. At his side, a hatchet nestled in his belt, accompanied by twin knives on the opposing hip.

"My lady," he uttered, his gaze respectfully lowered.

"Clean this," she commanded, disdain dripping from her words as she cast the stick aside.

With purposeful strides, she ascended the bed, leaving the lifeless form behind. Meanwhile, the man carried out his assigned task. With skilled precision, he released the boy from his mortal shackle, severing the rope with one of his gleaming knives. Then, without hesitation, he hoisted the lifeless body over his broad shoulder, disappearing into the shadows as he departed, the door closing behind him.

From her perch on the bed, she observed the scene unfolding, her gaze fixated upon the unfolding events. Once the man had vanished, she sprang to her feet, a burst of vitality animating her frame.

"Get me a new one!" she demanded, her voice reverberating through the room.

"As you wish, my lady," Vere's response echoed from beyond the door.

Turning her attention to one of the room's windows, she leaned against the frame, her eyes surveying the bustling port town sprawled before her. Meshek, the grand city, spread out beneath her lofty tower, a tapestry of life and activity unfolding at her feet. Hidden from prying eyes, she reveled in her vantage point, a spectator of the world.

"All the men are the same," she mused aloud, a mixture of frustration and bitterness tainting her words. "Pigs. Filthy, disgusting pigs! They cannot appreciate true beauty; they are blind to it. They see only the vile meat before them—a repulsive vessel of lust!"

Her frustration boiling over, she slammed her fist against the windowsill, a manifestation of her inner turmoil. Then, propelled by a surge of restless energy, she pushed herself away from the frame, crossing the room to the opposite window. Through it she beheld the vast expanse of the ocean, its waves undulating rhythmically, mirroring the ebb and flow of the ships dotting the bustling port.

"Where is my true love? Where is my noble knight?" she pondered, her gaze fixed upon the distant horizon. Her voice carried a longing that echoed through the air, reaching out to a seemingly unseen hero who eluded her grasp. With a sigh, almost theatrically orchestrated, she delicately placed both hands over her heart, as if attempting to quell the ache within, before abruptly darting towards the bed. With a graceful leap, she surrendered herself to the embrace of soft linens, allowing the realm of dreams to transport her away.

In the meantime, Vere descended the tower, his steps purposeful and resolute. He emerged into a small yard that encircled the grand structure, a sanctuary fenced off from the bustling city beyond by a towering wall. The distant cacophony of street life infiltrated his ears, a reminder of the vibrant world just beyond the reach of their hidden abode. His gaze fell upon a cart, its contents concealed beneath a heavy cloth that acted as a magnet for a swarm of buzzing flies, eagerly seeking a way in.

With a swift motion, Vere unveiled the covered mystery, exposing a chilling sight. A stack of lifeless bodies lay before him, their necks encased in the unforgiving embrace of ropes. He discarded the fresh addition onto the morbid pile, concealing it once more beneath the cloth shroud.

It was still too early to venture beyond the yard with the cart, for prying eyes could easily bear witness to the macabre cargo. Rumors would spread like wildfire, feeding the whispers of a deranged noblewoman who derived perverse pleasure from coupling with corpses.

They failed to comprehend her tragedy, the depths of her anguish. None could fathom the harrowing journey she had endured. Even her own father, trapped within the confines of his ignorance, remained oblivious to her pain. It was his doing, along with the actions of his treacherous brother, that had plunged her into this desolate abyss.

A heavy sigh escaped Vere's lips, laden with the weight of his burdens. Resolutely, he retraced his steps, ascending the tower once more, fully aware of the arduous task that awaited him. The night would be long and demanding as he disposed of the lifeless shells, erasing all evidence of their existence.