house was breeched through the basement at high night under a new moon.
Discretion was of the utmost importance to this client. Ringing the bell on the
porch of the manor was out of the question. A sharp tug given to the two thick
leashes held by the tall, well-dressed man forced the shadowy figures behind
him inside. Before this last trip to the desert to procure some exotic items,
he had never given any thought to their purpose. Everything changed once he met
the Goddess. He wished to satisfy his own curiosity about a question which he
alone had enough information to form.
footsteps came halfway down the stone steps. A single candle lit the face of Mr. Davies. Such features looked sinister even in broad daylight, but to view
them with only the dim flicker of this tiny flame could easily cause
hallucinations of a goat-like creature sent from Hell. The leashes
became difficult to hold on to as the bound ones tugged and yelped.
now! What makes such awful sounds?” Mr. Davies asked as he swung the
candle toward the source of the raucous. “Anthony, is that you down there
or not? Identify, please, or I shall have the constable here at once!”
gave a hearty laugh. “I doubt very much that you mean to call the
authorities. Not while I have your precious treasures here, brought straight
from the most eccentric town in all of the sand dunes.”
rushed down the stairs like a poor child running toward St. Nicholas. His long
fingers patted Anthony down. “Where is it? Give it to me! I must have
hold of yourself, man. I have your items here in my satchel. I believe there is
the matter of payment to attend.”
yes, of course!” Mr. Davies shuffled to a corner of the basement. He
grunted as he lifted the lid off a wine crate. He took hold of the sack hidden
within and hauled it over to Anthony.
lifted the sack and bounced it in his palm. “Very good, the weight feels
right, and you are certainly a trustworthy man.” He was pleased that the
shadows hid his smirk, for this fellow was nearer to a rabid dog than
an upstanding man. Not that anyone had the gall to say as such.
was opened. The candle was placed on a crate. Mr. Davies knelt on the dirt
floor. He took the final parts for his precious machine into his hands for the
first time. Jubilant sounds escaped his lips as he cuddled one of the pieces, rubbing it against his cheek and even kissing it.
is more,” Anthony said.
You have brought me all that I desired. You have given me the very objects of
is a lagniappe.” A tug was given to the leashes. Two slaves came into the
candlelight. One was a round young woman. Her creamy white mountainous peaks could
easily fall out of the tiny cloth that fought to give her a shred of modesty. Lush
hips destined to carry multiple babies stuck out around the veil which hung
loose between her legs.
slave was harder to make out in the darkness to which he naturally blended. Mr.
Davies moved the candle closer. Those wicked slender fingers inspected the
slave bit by bit.
under his arms, fuzz over his lip,” Mr. Davies noted. “About
seventeen I would guess.” His eyes fell on the cloth that the slave wore.
He licked his lips as he turned back to Anthony. “And you say that these
are bonus gifts for me? One or both?”
the question of the hour! Anthony could ask Mr. Davies which slave he wished to
have. He could tell him that these were not ordinary house servants, but that
these were meant for evening pleasure behind closed doors. There was no need.
The answer was obvious.
Perhaps think of one as a,” Anthony paused as his grin set wide and his
voice dropped low, “wedding gift.”
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