Here it is, my first full FF14 art release! Hope you like it and the story i wrote with it from the perpective of Clara.
These two characters are Penelope pyr Imperiosa, a Garlean Decurio of high standing in the empire’s military. A firm and dominant woman who does not wear her heart on her sleeve and is deeply instilled with the iron clad beliefs of pure-blooded Garleans.
And Clara aan Thorne, her Eorzean slave & handmaiden who owes her life to Penelope and has fallen deeply in love with the woman who holds the other end of the chain that links to her neck. Expect to see character profiles for them in the future! But for now, enjoy!
It was a rare treat to accompany mistress to one of the Garlean noble and command social events. Clad in leather, lace and silk – I was most certainly the best dressed slave at the entire event if not the most eye catching. That moment before we left when we stood in front of the mirror and she rested her hands upon my shoulders, just looking at me in the reflection.
Mistress looked so radiant and striking in her armor too. I cleaned it by hand three times over to make sure she stood out among the crowd and she seemed most pleased with the work I had done on it.
She told me how beautiful I looked and kissed me. Not a mere peck on the lips or a kiss on the cheek but a long and passionate one! The warmth of her lips made the cold Garlean steel of her armor entirely invisible to my senses as my body pressed against it. That long moment, it was wonderful. I shall not soon forget it.
We mingled at the gathering and spoke to a lot of people. Many others commented on my beauty and remarked that I looked surprisingly refined for an Eorzean. It was here when things turned rather sour in the evening however.
One rather rotund Garlean politician led me away while mistress was engaged in conversation. Before I knew it he had me bent over a table in a side room with perverted intentions towards me. Thankfully mistress had noticed my absence fairly quickly and she interrupted before he could do anything.
She pushed the fat man off me into an armchair and pointed her gunblade firmly against his neck. Her beautiful emerald eyes had become piercing vengeful daggers aimed at this ridiculous looking half naked man. She warned him to never lay hands upon me again and to never speak of it or she’d castrate him. He looked terrified and agreed without hesitation.
We left the gathering early. Mistress pulled me through the crowd by my wrist the whole way, she squeezed it so hard that it still ached a full day later. She was furious and upset. I dared not speak a word. Even Centurion Alvarius noticed her leaving and stopped her briefly towards the exit to ask her what was wrong.
She brushed it off, telling him that it was none of his concern. He nodded, regarding me with a slightly concerned look as she tugged me away and into a magitek transport to return home.
I knew punishment awaited me back in her quarters yet I did not know how much. Only now with hindsight do I know that one of the longest, sustained and most punishing nights on the end of her wrath was what awaited.
She tore that beautiful dress from my body, forced me over a table like the rotund man had and took me roughly. She used the behemoth-size attachment for the strap-on. A fitting name for it.
She reminded me that I was her slave and her whore. For none other than her to use. She made me count as she lashed my back with a riding crop and would start over each time I counted incorrectly or hesitated. She would pull my hair and spank me as she took my ass with the behemoth so roughly.
I sobbed and begged her forgiveness for failing her at one point. It angered her and she slapped me so hard across the face that I tumbled to the floor where I sobbed more. I was so furious that she was punishing me for something I couldn’t control. She knew I couldn’t refuse that stupid fat man as a mere slave.
Then I realized. She wasn’t mad at me or even the man who caused this. She was mad at herself for failing to protect me. My mistress didn’t know how to compound those feelings and so she lashed out at me in confusion and anger.
I stopped sobbing, looking up at her as she stood over me. I told her I forgave her and her beautiful green eyes welled up to the edge of tears for a moment – yet she did not allow herself to shed them. She helped me to my feet and pulled me into a hug and I buried my face in that motherly chest of hers.
The pain and aches of her abuse had melted away in her caring embrace. We stood there for so long in each other’s hold. It was so warm and so comforting, it was truly wonderful. Then it happened, words spoken by mistress that I never expected to hear. Said barely above a whisper right beside my ear.
“I love you, Clara. I won’t hurt you anymore today.” She had said.
My mistress told me she loved me. Me. A common slave! One who was not befitting the adoration of such a woman. I immediately told her how I felt, how I loved her so much. She kissed my forehead and gently swept me from my feet to carry me in her strong arms to the bathing room.
She ran a hot bath of rose water for me, bathed my body and treated the wounds she had given me earlier. Her eyes would meet my own and she’d softly caress my face without saying a word - yet those eyes said everything for her. When I had been bathed, she carried me to her bed and we cuddled naked all night under those expensive silk sheets. I fell asleep to the mighty thump of her heartbeat as my head lay against her chest. It was a strong heart for a strong woman.
I knew I could not let this go to my head. It was wonderful to be cared for and loved by mistress, yet I knew such a woman like her could not show it all the time. Such an expectation would have been foolish and naive – but to know that under that harsh and firm exterior was a woman who truly cared for me... it filled my heart to bursting.
I learned a few things about myself that night. I learned that my mistress can only protect me so as long as I remain loyally at her side. And that even a lowly slave like me is worthy of her love. And yet most of all, the most surprising revelation about myself that I had that night.
... I enjoyed it when mistress hurt me.