Page 33 of A Broken Promise

Noticing color in my cheeks and my shameful stare, Priya proudly smirked.

“Relax. I know my boobs are magnificent.” She then squished them together with her hands, kneading them slowly, seductively winking at me while running her tongue across her plump lips. My heart traitorously raced faster. I froze in my seat, unsure of what to do.

When I didn’t laugh or even smile, she dropped her hands down and rolled her eyes. “Never took a slave girl to be a prude.”

“I am not a prude,” I replied, fighting myself from nervously fidgeting in my seat.

I really wasn’t. In fact, most of the time I didn’t care about other nakedness. After all, it was just a human body.

“I was taken by surprise. Never seen breasts like yours before,” I retorted.

Pleased by the compliment, Priya chuckled. “Well, I am one of a kind, what can I say?”

Her laugh eased the heated tension in the room. I rested my clammy hands on my knees. She rested her hands on her tight waist. Only then did I notice a scar, though well healed and almost unnoticeable in the bleak lighting of the room, it was the size of an apple, right above her belly button. A burn mark. A large letter S. As if a brand on an animal.

Noticing where my eyes have lingered, she twisted.

“Never seen a scar either, Freckles?” she snarled, her features quickly changing from relaxed and sultry to cutthroat and angry. The air in the room dangerously shifted. My eyes, without hesitation, found trays of food on the bed. A well needed distraction.

“Can I have some food?” I meekly asked, falling into a familiar tone.

“Go for it.”

Priya went to pull another shirt from the dresser to put on. Her nipples perked up at a light touch of the cotton fabric. When I involuntarily gazed across them, she stuffed a big roll in her mouth and murmured, “Bras are for pussies, and we let titties roam free here, so you better get used to it.”

Almost choking on my own roll, I smiled. Maybe it was the food, or the comforting warmth of the blankets, or the realization that I was finally free, but my heart filled with relief because at that moment I wasn’t sure who she was, but I knew I could get along with her.

We silently finished our dinner. Priya was already propped up on her bed with square pillows, flicking a large ring in the air like a coin.

“So…” I was unsure how to ask the question.

“So what?” she said, still eyeing her large ring.

“Who are you?” I blurted out. There wasn’t a good way to ask this. She would either answer it or wouldn’t, no matter how well I could word it.

“Does it really matter?” She repeated my own words from earlier today, her copper eyes following the ring in the air.

“If I am to accept your offer of employment, I’d like to know,” I countered.

She caught the ring and sat up crossing her legs.

“So, I flash a pair of nice boobs at you, feed you once and you are ready to be my bitch?” She grinned wide and then added, “Do you pee standing up too?”

Flash of embarrassment ran through me, but I continued.

“I didn’t realize being ‘your bitch’ was part of my employment offer, but that’s good to know,” I threw back, pulling the blankets over me.

“Oh, slaves are so sensitive these days,” Priya teasingly laughed.

I was not a slave.Not anymore. I locked my jaw, ignoring her jab.

She clicked her tongue and took a loud breath but answered.

“You can say I am an entrepreneur.”

Fair enough. No answer then.

I wasn’t mad at her, I was grateful, though I didn’t appreciate the constant jabs and never-ending teasing.

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