A Sensible Purchase Ch. 02

Jansetta nodded. "Yes, Sir. I had a good mother."

"Excellent. Do you have any other skills?" This time, there was interest in his voice.

With a cringe, Jansetta admitted to him, "I imagined myself a poet once. I'm also rather accomplished at embroidery." Maybe the dowager marchioness would need a woman to make her clothing prettier? She scanned her memories for any other pastimes she had in her life. "I can play the harp and recorder." Her voice softened as she ran out of activities to note.

Lukas' palms clapped against each other in an approving manner. "That's good! You'll likely have a comfortable life with these arts. Now," and here, his lips made a smack of a noise and his palms rubbed together, "I'm going to study you, which means you'll be very uncomfortable." His hands separated, and they waved about, fingers straight and in the air, his palms facing her a bit. "Don't be alarmed. I'm not going to damage you. If I did, I'd likely be kicked and whipped to death."

As he chuckled down at her, Jansetta grumbled and popped her fingers' joints again.

"I'm going to untie one of your wrists. Don't try anything. I'll hold you down if you do." He reached for her right wrist, and he untied the section of cord there, freeing that limb. "Ah, there's a good girl. Don't panic. I'm going to remove your gown and chemise."

Her eyes bulged out so intensely that it was painful. She stared up at the centaur's completely deadpan expression. "Remember, if I damage you, I'm the one who will suffer for it. You're safe."

Jansetta pressed her teeth together, but she didn't resist when Lukas pulled her gown off of her body. He folded it up into a neat little square. Then he placed it on a shelf nearby. He was completely methodical and emotionless, reminding Jansetta of a physician. When her chemise was whispering its goodbye against her flesh, and her bare bottom was pressed against the cushion's soft fabric, she blushed and looked away, but she didn't sense anything overly eager about the Examiner.

Her lower legs still had their stockings; her feet still had her shoes, and her ankles still had their restraints, but none of it mattered. Jansetta was basically nude. The air wasn't bitter. It was actually fairly warm. That didn't matter either. As if weakened, she trembled. Her long blonde hair slid against her skin. The sleek texture didn't calm her.

"For your own safety," Lukas said, taking her delicate wrist in his warm hand, "I'm going to tie your hands behind you."

Jansetta was suspicious, but she only sighed as the centaur moved a bit, his hooves lightly beating onto the dirt. Jansetta wondered if the higher floors of the building had dirt too. Would they simply dig it up and pack it up there? Would the floors need to be treated beforehand to keep the wood from rotting? Maybe the floors were of stone?

Her wrists were held behind her back, and then Lukas retied the cord, keeping her restrained. Her round breasts were pushed out a little as she tried to keep her back straight.

"Ah, you're a pretty thing," Lukas said with slightly more warmth than he had before. He moved back to the standing position before her, but he didn't touch her right away. Instead, he pulled a flask out from another bag tied to his waist. A burst of a noise rang out when he opened it. Then he poured some clear liquid into his mouth and over his hands. A finger pressed the flask closed, and he put it back into his bag, all while he swished the liquid around in his mouth with loud, wet noises. When he finally spat onto the dirt, shaking his hands dry, Jansetta realized that the liquid was alcohol. The smell was much more intense. It made her sneeze twice in a row.

"Are you ill?"

Jansetta's nose wrinkled. Then she exhaled her words out. "I'm well."

She heard his sleeve brush against his side as his fingers went to her chin. He bent a little, his dark eyes intense. "Open your mouth, Doll. I need to see your teeth."

Why not? She obeyed easily, her eyes turning away as Lukas scanned the inside of her mouth. She felt his breath as he gave a few long sniffs.

"Your breath is normal, and I don't see any bad teeth or sores. Raise your tongue."

Silently, she touched the roof of her mouth with her tongue's tip.

"Excellent, Doll! You have a lovely mouth." His fingers went from her face to her scalp, where they seemed to press around in search of something, putting odd shivers down her neck. "No lumps, and your hair is thick and lustrous. You should hold your head high, Doll, as high as a prince's tail."

Jansetta didn't understand that simile.

Both of his thick hands went to her throat. For a second, Jansetta gasped and wondered if she was about to be strangled. But when there was no dangerous pressure, only mild body heat, she gulped down her own mucus and took a few breaths, trying not to react to the bitter scent on his hands.

"Good, good. Now, what of these?"

His fingertips grazed downwards, and then, much to Jansetta's discomfort, her breasts were cupped. A short yelp came out of her, but the Examiner ignored it, squeezing her, rubbing her. She was quite mortified to realize that her nipples her puckering up. Her eyes closed tightly.

"I don't feel any lumps. That's good."

Pinches!

Gentle pinches, but still ... pinches!

Did he really need to seize her nipples like that?!

A protesting bleat hurried out of her mouth, and her head shook from side to side.

"You have very attractive nipples. A man would pay quite the fee to touch them."

Jansetta decided that he must have been joking. Her eyes were still shut, and she didn't dare to open them. She was afraid of whatever expression might be on the centaur's face.

"I'm going to test them, Doll. It's best if you relax."

She tried. She honestly tried not to shake herself away from the pulling, tense sensations that were forming in her breasts. Upsetting jolts of pleasure were dancing down to her most womanly parts, between her thighs, which were pressing together.

Was he ... caressing the lengths of the nipples?

Damn it!

Very reluctantly, Jansetta moaned into the air.

"That's a great response! Now, we need to see about the insides. My hands are dry. Don't worry."

Her eyelids parted immediately, and she blurted out, "What?!"

She watched him step backwards a bit. Then, his hands nudged her thighs as far apart as the restraints at her ankles would allow, which was just enough for him to mercilessly sink his fingers into her, as if he had done so countless times. It burned a little at first. Then ... it didn't burn at all.

Jansetta closed her eyes again. It was too embarrassing to witness. It was worse to feel. Tight, urgent, an invasion she didn't fully comprehend. Simply ... odd, and somewhat nice.

Lukas' voice was above her, practically floating. "I don't feel any sores. That's absolutely fantastic. Have you ever married, Jansetta?"

Her voice trickled out a nervous answer. "No."

"Ah, ever worked as a prostitute?"

"No."

"Ever had a lover?"

For the love of all things sacred!

Inside her stockings and shoes, Jansetta felt her toes clench in frustration. "I've never," she panted a little here, "ever had such contact with a man before."

"That's lovely! We don't shame experienced women, but we do appreciate the ones with no venereal disease." As he said this, his fingertip pressed up into a part of the tight channel that Jansetta didn't even know existed. Her lack of knowledge didn't signify. The pleasure was still there, making her tilt her head back and croon to the ceiling. Behind her back, her fingernails dug into her hands.

And she fell down, nearly crushing her own hands, her bare back pressing into both her hair and the cushion on the table. She didn't care.

Then ... right at the clitoris ... it was probably his thumb.

She kicked her feet, and she felt solid muscle.

"Ah, it's fine, Doll. You didn't mean to." There was the sound of hooves thudding and kicking up a little dirt. His fingers slipped out. Jansetta opened her eyes to look at the stone ceiling, and then she cried out a greedy, impatient noise.

She felt the edges of his fingernails very gently scrape against her belly, which reacted by jerking inwards. Lukas' body heat loomed over her, and then his clothes and flesh touched her lower body. One of his hands gripped her upper thigh, and then the other went right back to her womanhood, where it pressed inside, just as she had wanted him to do.

"Aaahh!" Her brain was uncaring of the inappropriateness of her situation. She was preoccupied with receiving all the pleasure signals.

Hot and clearly experienced lips seized her clitoris.

Oh ...

What?

"Ah! Ah!" Jansetta's hands flinched and writhed under her back.

The tongue's tip lapped at her, scraping against the engorged little nubbin, and there was suckling, gentle suckling that set her nerves on fire.

"Yes! Please! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, please!" What exactly she was apologizing for, she wasn't certain. There were regretful feelings, though, mixing in with the pleasure. Perhaps she was apologizing for whatever it was that made her feel regretful?

Then white hot madness had her roaring out her wildness. From her clitoris, to her happily penetrated channel, even down to her ignored anus, there was quivering and delight.

And when she was finally relaxed, the Examiner left her alone, pulling his mouth away, his fingers receding. Jansetta heard rustling, and then the pop of his alcohol flask being opened. Her body struggled as she tried to get back to a sitting position, but she was unable to do so.

She heard liquid falling to the dirt floor, then the sloshing inside Lukas' mouth, and finally, the crass spitting. Soon, the acrid smell of alcohol was strong again. Then she was gripped by the shoulder and pushed up.

Jansetta was happy to be sitting again, blushing and slightly dazed, but still fairly happy. As improper as that ... experience ... had been, it had seemed fairly harmless.

The rest of the "examination" was less than pleasurable. Lukas removed her shoes and stockings, careful to not to let the accessories touch the ground. He felt her legs' muscles, and then went to the feet and toes. He complimented her "adorable feet" and said they would be a pleasant surprise for the man who would soon see them. Then he adjusted her body so he could ... well ... there was no polite way to describe this. He examined her anus. He performed this task as quickly as possible, though, as if this was his most disliked part of the job.

After Lukas said he was finished, he made sure she was dressed as she was before. Then he untied her wrists behind her and retied them in front. He smiled down at her and said, "The Purveyor should ask a rather high price for you. If you aren't sold to this family, you would certainly be placed in a home with equal or better wealth fairly quickly."

Jansetta didn't react to this bit of information. She was afraid of acting proud, because a proud slave certainly wouldn't be approved of. She was also afraid of acting afraid, because she might end up insulting someone by implying that there was something wrong with her potential master.

"I'm going to put you back with the Purveyor now." Jansetta was again scooped up into a centaur's arms. She was almost accustomed to the helpless feeling.

The Examiner carried her to the exit, and he announced the completion of the examination very loudly. The door was opened, and Aldous was there, reaching out. Jansetta was placed into his arms, and then the two centaurs left the area, going back to the rest of the people in the large room with the brick squares. Very quickly, the Examiner listed Jansetta's qualities before she could have been placed on a square. Perhaps the marquess of the estate seemed impatient? He did have a twitch under his eye. Jansetta did note, however, that the Examiner said, "I succeeded quite well with her. She's a darling girl."

The dowager marchioness gave a very general statement of approval, but she seemed bored. She was making her way back to the raised floor she had come from earlier. Soon, she disappeared into that place, but she kept a wall open.

Much to Jansetta's confusion, she and the other two women up for sale were carried over to the raised area where that noblewoman had gone to.

They were all deposited onto a floor that was covered with soft mats edged with silk bands. The room they were in seemed small, with wooden walls and sparse furniture. The dowager marchioness, Etiennette Thibou, was there, kneeling on a cushion and smiling at all of them.

Jansetta and the other women were also in kneeling positions, but their bonds restricted them, and they couldn't hope to move much about without falling over. One of the women was brave enough to ask, "Mistress, what are we meant to do here?"

With an odd twinkle of merriment in her eyes, the mistress of the estate said to the woman, "You're meant to wait while my son, the Examiner, and the Purveyor discuss the prices. It's terribly rude to tell a woman what price she's worth before you purchase her."

"Please," said the other woman, bowing her head, "please, Mistress, tell us, what in the world are we meant to do here if we are purchased?"

Tilting her head, the golden band shimmering even in the shaded room, the dowager marchioness said, "We won't purchase all three of you. I do have two other sons, but they've been too mischievous for me to consider them. My eldest, though, has proven that he is worthy of his title."

"Mistress?" Jansetta said, hoping she didn't seem impolite, "are we meant to be companions?" Outright asking if they were meant to be carnal slaves seemed too crude for her to say.

A different smile ... a great smile full of warmth was on the older woman's face ... Jansetta was surprised that it existed. Why wasn't this woman viewing her with superiority in her eyes?

Then Etiennette Thibou said calmly, seriously, "One of you is meant to replace me as mistress here, and become the wife to my son."

All three women up for sale gazed at the aristocrat with loose jaws.

These women, forced away from their homes, away from their families, never to see their loved ones again, were meant to be wives?

And ... in this castle, one of them was meant to be the new marchioness?

Then ... once the bewilderment faded away, Jansetta listened as the other two women fired out as many questions as they could.

"A legally recognized wife, is that what he needs?"

"Will we be citizens here?"

"We aren't meant to be slaves?"

"We're meant to have children, aren't we?"

"Why in the world didn't the marquess take a wife from a fellow noble, or even a well educated commoner of this nation?"

Jansetta put the her curled hands to her lips, uncertain of what question she wanted to ask. There were far too many to choose from.

Etiennette Thibou's manicured hand rose, which prompted the women to hush. Jansetta noticed there were a few sparkly rings on that hand. "I'll explain, dear women. I have no reason not to." She layered her hands onto her lap and took a short breath. "This land is Breden, and here, the men are centaurs. Now, a foreigner might wonder, what of the women? Well, they are as we are, completely human."

She laced her fingers together, keeping her smile friendly. "We can produce children, but the boys are all centaurs, and there are no twins. The girls are all human, and there is always the chance for twins, triplets, or even more than that. Sadly, though, it's a chance seldom experienced, for when a centaur sires a child, it's often a boy. Many have said that there's a one in four chance of a girl being born. Because of this sad truth, there often aren't enough women to marry. And so, many foreign women are purchased as wives."

Jansetta tried to absorb the information with grace, but she was leaning back against a wall, quivering, wondering if her life would turn out to be miserable or tolerable. Would her future husband respect her? Would her future husband kick her with with all the strength of a horse if she disobeyed him? Would coitus with her husband be painful? Would she bleed every time?

"Now," said the dowager marchioness, "while we wait for my son to decide which one he prefers, I should explain some of the basic etiquette we have in Breden. This information will be good for all of you, since upper class homes would certainly be your destinations."

Jansetta noticed that the other women for sale were suddenly very attentive, almost eager. She wondered if they might have been relieved to know that they wouldn't be slaves. As for Jansetta's thoughts, she supposed she was relieved too, but she almost didn't quite believe the circumstances. Purchasing ... purchasing a woman to be the new mistress? Purchasing a woman to order the servants about?

What sort of nation was this?

"This is a noble's home," said Etiennette Thibou, her shoulders raising, her long sleeves whispering their presence in the air, "and the men here are expected to be highly respectful, including the marquess himself. They are never to place their hooves onto a woman's floor, which is what we're currently kneeling on, by the by."

Jansetta wanted ask about the peculiar separation, but one of the other women beat her to it. "Mistress, if I may ask, why is this so?"

"Centaur bodies require soft grass or soil, so their hooves won't be damaged. While a woman could live and sleep in such an environment, why would a wealthy husband force his wife to live that way? Even a peasant would construct a platform for his wife to sleep on!" The dowager marchioness rolled her eyes as the thought of a woman lying on the ground seemed to insult her sense of propriety. Then she sighed.

"Now, the floors on the women's side aren't designed for a centaur's hooves. So, not even the servants are allowed here. Only the women. Why," and here the noblewoman chuckled into one of her sleeves, "even the highest ranking male won't open a wall to look at a woman unless he has permission, or he has a very good reason to break protocol."

A headache of pure stress was banging in Jansetta's head. This was all so ... odd.

"If you wish to walk over to the men's side, and I do hope that all of you are eventually convinced to do so, you must put your feet into clogs, to protect your feet from the dirt."

Women could go to the men's side, but men couldn't go to the women's side? Jansetta raised an eyebrow, but she said nothing.

The aristocratic woman continued with her explanation. "Sometimes, a man might be mischievous, and he'll peek through a small crack. So, you may use small locks to keep the walls tightly closed. If you don't want to be seen, then please lock the walls."

And then, soon after the mistress had finished giving that piece of advice, there was a knock on the wall from the outside. A masculine voice said, "He's decided. We'd like to take the other two away now, if it wouldn't be much trouble."

Etiennette Thibou's fingers gracefully slid up to a groove inside one of the walls, and she dragged it along. It seemed to recede into a hollow sleeve made of similar wood. The sleeve looked like a wall, but Jansetta quickly understood that it couldn't be moved at all. It was essentially a pocket for storing other walls.

Two of Aldous' guards each leaned in to reach for a woman and take her away from the women's section of the building.

And ... Jansetta was left alone with the mistress.

She hadn't been taken at all.

The reality sunk into her mind, putting a tingle in her nose and a twitch in her feet.

Jansetta would soon be the marchioness, the new mistress of this estate.

She nearly fainted against the wall she'd leaned on.

***