I am Rogue. Fourth child of Lord Ash, 65th in line to the throne of Aristolene, and outcast from society. Like all women, I have a master. Lord Drexler is 15th in line to the throne, which means we’re related in some small way, but apparently not sufficiently for my father to withhold permission for him to take me into his fold.
I’ve known Drexler since we were children, well, since I was a child and he a young man. I would often see him come to visit my father for the serpent training only my father can impart. The spirit of the Serpent is one of the strongest battle totems a man can have, but it is difficult to attain, let alone master.
I remember the first time I knew that I hated Drexler. I was eighteen, he was a young man becoming acquainted with his future role as Lord and staying at our home on of his many training missions. Mother had warned me to stay away from my father and his trainees, but I have always had a way with the serpents, a quiet understanding. It is only natural, I think. I was raised with them. It is said that when I was but a babe, they found a jewel python in my crib, not feeding, not dead, but curled up around me. It was an omen that has followed me all my life.
Drexler did not have a way with the serpents, not then at least. One day I sneaked out to the chamber of snakes and watched as my father tried to teach Drexler how to handle them without getting bitten. It was not working, Drexler was too clumsy, and with strike after strike, Drexler became more angry. He was lucky that the snakes my father used for training purposes were non venomous.
I remember how he looked that day, tall, broad and dark. His eyes have always had a hint of fire in them, a red tint that is said to hail from the royal line. It is stronger than usual in Drexler, sometimes his eyes look quite definitely red, such as when he is impassioned. On that day they blazed about viciously, inciting the snakes to violence.
As a python sunk its fangs into his arm for the tenth time, I laughed and came up behind him, took the snake from him and caressed it against my chest. As I touched it, it settled down into a watchful repose. Drexler’s eyes flickered across my face, and I thought I saw a grudging appreciation for my abilities there.
“You are too fierce for the serpents,” I said with what no doubt would have been a cheeky grin.
“Leave us Rogue, we are training,” my father said.
It made me angry that he would not train me when I was so clearly more talented than Drexler.
“Why are you training him?” I spat rudely. “He is useless. Train me instead.”
They both stared at me as I continued to gently pet the snake’s head and neck. Now Drexler looked just as angry as my father. Both of them burned with a silent humiliation born of their inadequacy.
“You are a woman, you cannot be trained,” my father said flatly.
“I can be trained, but you will not train me. You fear me.” I smirked as I said the words, for they were true. I had been training myself, watching when my father was unaware I was there. He was a fair Serpent Master, but he lacked the sensitivity I enjoyed. Few can hide in the presence of a Serpent Master, but I could always hide in his presence.
I was correct. He did fear me. A female with an empathy for the serpent totem is not a popular woman. It is far preferable for a woman to align herself with the cat, or at a stretch, the wolf. A woman aligned with the cat is said to be graceful and beautiful. Though sometimes cold in spirit, she will always seek out her master for comfort. A woman aligned with the wolf is less refined, but deeply loyal. It is nigh unheard of for a woman to be aligned with the serpent, and it is said that such women are dangerous. At eighteen, I knew well enough to exploit that danger for my own purposes. My father was a master of the serpents, yet he would not dare lay a finger on me for fear that I might stir up his serpents against him.
Drexler, on the other hand, was not afraid of me at all.
“You have a sharp tongue in your head, little maiden,” he said gruffly. “A forked tongue, I’ll warrant.”
Perhaps I should have seen some kind of warning in his behavior, in the set of his shoulders, in the way he raised one thick, black eyebrow at me as I stood there, silently mocking the both of them, but I did not see what happened next coming at all.
“Better a forked tongue than clumsy hands,” I quipped in reply, then squealed in outrage as Drexler laid his hands upon me, dislodging my faithful serpent. My father caught the angry beast and returned it to its cage as Drexler manhandled me, kicking and screaming, over his raised knee.
Without my father’s permission, and ignoring my threats, which I assure you were quite dire, he began to spank me. His hands may have been clumsy, but they were strong and hard and it hurt like the blazes. I had not been spanked before, and every blow seemed to hurt more than the last.
“A lady does not speak in the way you just did,” he lectured me as his hand burned across my behind. I was outraged and very sore, my cries filled the chamber of snakes, and I writhed and wriggled as best I could, just like a young serpent escaping a predator, but it was to no avail. I was not a young serpent, and all my writhing did nothing but cause his hard hand to land soundly on my upper thighs, which unlike my bottom, were not covered by the short tunic I wore.
It was the most humiliating experience I have ever endured. My tunic was not thick, and rode up as I thrashed about, allowing him to spank me on my thin bloomers. I was sure that his hands and his fiery eyes were setting my bottom ablaze, the spanking hurt so much.
When he finished spanking me, I was incredibly sore, and more angry than I had ever been in my life. He stood me up, tears of rage running down my cheeks, tears which he must have confused as a sign of contrition, and kissed my forehead.
“Now run along and behave yourself,” he said to me, no doubt trying to be kind.
I did run along. Actually, I ran away. For two weeks I did not return home, not until I saw that he had left my parents’ home. They sent out search parties looking for me, but like a snake, I can hide almost anywhere. It’s a trick that serves me well to this very day. I hid under their very noses, doing small mischief wherever I could, spiteful tricks to get back at Drexler for the shameful way he had treated me.
I was a difficult teenager to be sure, and an even more difficult woman. As soon as I came of age, attempts were made to find me an appropriate master. I frightened them all away simply by secreting a small adder in my bosom. A man soon loses interest in a lady when a snake’s head creeps out between her alabaster cleavage. I had hoped to be allowed to become a spinster, perhaps even become a free woman, but my parents were not having it.
“I have found you a master,” my father announced one evening.
“Father, you know no man will take me. I am the Lady of the Serpents, and my reputation goes before me,” I laughed.
Instead of becoming angry as he often did when I flaunted my abilities, he laughed at me, an ill omen indeed.
“Your new master does not fear you in the slightest,” he replied, a slight sneer about his mouth. I believe he was pleased to see the back of me, the daughter who had never lived up to his expectations, the daughter who insisted that she was the equal of a man.
“Oh, and who is this fool?” I countered.
“Lord Drexler,” he replied with the air of a man who has played the ace in the pack and knows it.
“No father! Please! Do not make me be his!” I was reduced to pleading, but it did not work. Though it had been nigh on six years since I had laid eyes on Drexler and he had laid his hands on my behind, at the mention of his name, the pain and the humiliation returned in full force. I would never forgive him for the indignities he had made me suffer when he had spanked me, and I would certainly never be his.
The next morning I was sent off in a carriage to Lord Drexler, and that afternoon, just a few hours into the long journey, I escaped and began my life alone.
In a world where good girls grow up to be lovely ladies, Rogue is an anomaly. Born under the powerful Totem of the Serpent, she is feared by her family and grows up wild and undisciplined.
As a thoroughly spoiled young lady she is given over to Lord Drexler as an addition to his hold, where she meets Lady Mari Drexler, a warrior woman of the bear totem who takes willful Rogue in hand and teaches her that obedience isn’t just necessary, it can be very pleasurable indeed.
