"Take off your clothes!
Prator's voice echoed in the room, the veins on his neck straining on the surface.
Joya became startled; fear crept in, and all her boldness disappeared, she blinked her eyes, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill.
She tugged on the rope holding her dress together, then loosened it. The dress slipped down, and without another word, she stepped aside and let her dress fall to the floor.
She climbed on the bed and lay on it on her back, her eyes fixed on the ceiling.
She didn't want to look at him; she was ashamed…ashamed of her own thoughts.
To think that this illicit relationship could lead to anything…she felt stupid.
Suddenly she felt a touch; his finger grazed her hip, caressing it.
She felt her throat tighten, shutting her eyes instinctively; she allowed the feel of his touch to consume her.
He was good; his hands on a woman's body were like magic. She tried to hold back the desires bubbling through her body as his hands found their way to her wet spot.
He parted her legs slowly, and she bit her lips in anticipation of what he was going to do next.
Then, as swift as lightning, he drove his dick into her wet core.
Her spirit broke, along with her reluctance and her stubbornness, and she gave in to his touch, which ignited fire in her bones.
She began to moan as he banged her, their bodies slamming into a rhythmic pace.
The room began to vibrate with sexual sounds as their voices rose and fell, laced with pleasure. Whenever Prator felt his climax building up, he would withdraw and empty his hot seed on the bed, sprawling semen on the bedsheet.
This way he wouldn't get her pregnant.
After three hot rounds, he finally pulled out and lay beside her.
Joya laid there…empty for a while before summoning strength to rise up from the bed. She dressed up, and as she did, her thoughts ran deeper.
Today she had come to a realization: that she had begun to respond to his touch, and this caused her nothing but immense pain.
After dressing up, she returned to the riverbank; by now the sun had shifted in the clouds, and most of the women were gone.
The air felt quieter, emptier, the usual chatter replaced by the soft ripple of the water in the river.
Joya paused, letting her gaze sweep over the scattered remnants of clothes and bowls, the only signs that life had been here earlier.
A sense of solitude settled over her, sharp and heavy.
"Joya."
She heard Merlin call her name, she turned around, and there she was standing, waiting for her to say something.
But Joya had nothing to say; she simply made her way to where Merlin stood, then threw her arms around her, tears streaming down her face.
Merlin was slightly taken aback by the sudden emotional outburst and began patting her friend lightly, unsure whether to comfort or scold.
"You were right," Joya whispered between sobs, her voice trembling. "I was so foolish… and now, I can feel myself… reacting to his touch."
Her words hung in the air, heavy with shame and confusion.
"I… I can't do this anymore…" She stuttered, her body shaking as she broke down completely, tears spilling freely.
"I'm glad you've come to your senses," Merlin said softly, a small, relieved smile tugging at her lips.
"But what if he comes again?"
She questioned after a thought, and Joya stopped crying; her eyes became cold.
"I won't give him the chance; I have made up my mind not to die caged in this den filled with nothing but malicious officers."
"What do you mean?" Merlin asked, her voice cautious, still holding onto Joya.
Joya slowly stepped back, disengaging from the hug, and wiped the tears from her cheeks.
Her expression had changed; where moments ago there had been sorrow, now there was a sharp, calculating edge.
"I mean to say," she stated, her voice low and steady, "that I won't wait for him to strike again. Before he comes for me, I'll make the first move. I'll make sure he never has the chance to control me or anyone else…again.
I am going to free us all from this nightmare. I am going to make a plan to free all the slaves," Joya declared, her voice steady and sharp.
Merlin stared at her for a moment… then laughed, a short, incredulous sound.
"You've lost your mind," she said, shaking her head. "Do you even realize what you're saying?"
But the laughter died in her throat as she looked closer. Joya's eyes were hard, cold, and unwavering.
There was no trace of jest, only desperation and an iron determination that made Merlin's chest tighten.
The riverbank seemed to grow quieter around them.
"You… you mean it?" Merlin's face faltered.
"I mean every word," Joya replied, her voice low and steady.
Merlin froze for a heartbeat, the smile draining from her face as the meaning of Joya's words settled between them.
"You can't just…" she started, then stopped.
She looked at Joya properly for the first time: swollen eyes, trembling hands, and a hardness that had not been there before. "
"If you go after him, he will kill us; we might die. Do you not see that?"
"I know," she said, and when she looked up, her eyes were as cold as ice.
"That's exactly why I'll need your help."
"My help?!"
Merlin shrilled, her blood running cold.
"No… This is insane. You're not thinking straight," she said, her voice trembling with worry.
Joya shook her head slowly, her eyes never leaving Merlin.
"It is either this," she muttered, her tone low but firm, "or we will die—starving, broken, crushed under ignorance and hardship."
She reached out, taking her friend's hand gently, letting the warmth of her grip carry both reassurance and urgency.
"This is our only chance," she said, voice low and steady.
"Now that he's obsessed with using my body to satisfy his stupid urges, we can use that. I'll get close enough to learn his routine, who carries his messages, and where he hides his keys. I can gather enough information that will give us a lead."
"Would you risk yourself for all this, to free people that do not care about your existence?"
"A risk we already live under," Joya cut in.
"Only now will I turn it into an advantage."
There was silence, a brief pause.
Merlin felt she was going to lose her mind; she focused her gaze on the river, watching the water stream steadily.
"Please, I need you."
She heard Joya say.
Merlin remained silent for a fleeting moment, then shut her eyes, inhaled sharply, and finally spoke.
"Okay… I'm in," she said.
Joya's heart leapt for joy at the confirmation. Relief and exhilaration mingled in her chest.
But what she didn't sense was the flicker of dread in Merlin's eyes, a shadow that passed too quickly to be noticed.
"So… Do you have a plan?" Merlin asked, feigning a smile, though the edge in her voice betrayed her unease.
"Not yet," she replied, her tone calm but firm. "But I'll think of something."
Merlin nodded curtly, lips pressed into a thin line.
She studied Joya for a moment longer and finally understood she had gone too deep to understand what she was feeling.
"So… did he give you anything? You know… what he calls a gift after his 'service' is done?" Merlin asked, her voice cautious.
Joya shook her head sideways, signaling no.
"Shall we return to washing the officers' clothes then? Time is far spent."
Merlin says before turning away.
"I thought you were done."
Joya asked, her eyes rmmoaming around the riverbank; she finally took notice of a silver basin filled with clothes.
"An officer brought more clothes and insisted they should be washed and delivered before the sun sets."
Merlin said, and Joya rolled her eyes.
"Those people, they are nothing but predators!
I will help out."
She added, and Merlin smiled faintly.
"As expected of a friend."