A s*x Slave Assassin's Revenge

“Do please be careful young miss!” came the worried call of Heston, the family’s butler, as Rachael sprinted past him. “I will!” Rachael laughed back as she leapt onto the banister rail of one of the grand staircases, sliding down its length to the front door. If he was going to have the staff polish everything so much, what did he expect, it was so much fun! Rachael loved to move, to run and climb, and between the old castle her father had converted into a sprawling, modern mansion and the roughly ten thousand acres of land they owned around it she had grown up with more than enough opportunity to do so. “I’m going for a run! Be back in a bit!” Rachael called up the stairs to Heston, who had been gripping the banister of the upper floor in worry as he had watched her speedy descent. Although he was technically staff, Rachael had always seen Heston more like her grandfather. As far back as she could remember he had always just seemed to be there for her. That did not however, make her feel the slightest bit bad about making him worry when she did something dangerous. “Please remember, your mother is expecting you for brunch in the upper gardens at eleven.” Heston called, with a hint of futile pleading. “Thanks, Hesty!” Rachael disappeared out the front door, turning her music on and jogging off into the grounds. “Hesty…” Heston laughed to himself, smiling. Rachael had started calling him that when she was first learning to talk and couldn’t say his name right. It had just stuck with her from there. It wasn’t proper, but he didn’t mind.       Rachael headed towards the forested hill by the cliffs, it was a hard route to run, with only an uneven, steep dirt path, but she loved the challenge. It was also home to her favourite place on the estate. “Time. Twenty-seven minutes and six seconds. Distance. Six Kilometres.” Chirped Rachael’s watch as she reached the top of the hill, completely out of breath, her legs and core burning. She sat down on a rock and stretched her hamstrings. She always put every drop of energy she had left into those last, particularly steep few hundred meters. She felt broken, but so alive. After taking a minute to stretch, Rachael wandered to her destination; the ruins of an old lookout tower at the peak of the hill. It was about twenty metres tall and made of rough stone. The tower had been built hundreds of years ago when the castle had been built, but unlike the castle, it hadn’t been renovated and the stairs and floors had long since rotted away. After years of perfecting her route, Rachael was quite easily able to climb up the inside to perch on what was left of a window at the top. She loved this spot. She could see everything from here, the mansion, the gardens including the hedge maze, the river and beach weaving past and in the distance, the ever-busy city. She particularly loved to look out at the city after dark, it was so beautiful from here. Rachael sat back against the stonework and let her mind drift, allowing herself to simply be at peace and watch the world for a while, before climbing back down the tower and starting to jog towards home. Her mother had told her off so many times; she was never normally on time for much, but she wanted to be today. Today they were having a meeting to go over the plans for her sixteenth birthday next weekend.       As Rachael entered the gardens at the front of the house, she checked the time, ten fifty-six, she could just make it! Rachael pushed every drop of energy she had left into sprinting through the gardens, bounded up the long stone stairs to the upper garden and, looking at her watch again, proudly announced. “Made it! Ten fifty-nine!” She broadly grinned at her mother before bending double and heaving in quick, deep breaths. “Yes… Well, why don’t you join us at the table?” Lilly, Rachael’s mother asked, giving her the same look she had used so many times before and yet still had not given up hope would work. The look that said ‘you’ve technically done as you were supposed to, but I expect more of a proper, young lady.’ “You’ve met Cynthia Green before; she’s been planning all the family events for more years than I’d care to admit, I’d be truly lost without her.” Lilly gestured to an elegant, young, but very formal looking lady sharing the table with her. Cynthia forewent any response that would attempt false modesty, simply smiling and nodding a greeting, after all, both points were true. They had met before, and she did arrange everything for the Everwood family. “As you are a young lady of a respectable family, we had spent most of the day yesterday discussing an event that would be suitable for the occasion. Shopping, a dinner and a chaperoned ball with an orchestra…” Rachael slowly died inside, her mother had been trying to mould her into a ‘proper, young lady’, seemingly her mother’s favourite phrase, for as long as she could remember. Her mother had hired a host of different coaches for her over the years, she had been taught how to speak properly, how to dance, to play the violin and even how to walk, sit and eat as a lady should. This was exactly the kind of event she was being trained for, but the thought of a formal dance was just not her idea of fun, in fact it terrified her. “…however, when I was going through the plans with your father, he reminded me that while you are a young woman, you are not a young lady.” Lilly gave an accusing, but loving look past Rachael. “Despite your mother’s best efforts, and I’d like to think at least in part thanks to my influence.” Charles Everwood, Rachael’s father said from behind Rachael as he exited the open conservatory doors to join them on the patio. “Good morning, Honey-Bee, you been out running again?” “Just a quick run up to the tower.” “How was your time?” “Just over twenty-seven minutes!” “That’s a fairly steep hill, keep going like that and you’ll be ready to take me on soon.” He said proudly. Rachael beamed up at her father. She loved both her mother and father deeply, they had both encouraged her in so many different ways. Her mother particularly had taught her to be compassionate and gentle, while her father had instilled the benefits and the thrill of competition and defying expectations. “Ahem…” Lilly interrupted, trying to bring the conversation back on topic. “I’m sorry, darling. You know what Rachael, I don’t know how your mother does it, but after almost twenty years she has somehow managed to become even more beautiful than when I first met her.” Mr Everwood said, as he strolled across to his wife, took her hand and kissed it. “Moving past your father’s silver-tongued flattery, as I had been saying, he pointed out that this is your special day, and that you might appreciate something slightly different. Cynthia.” Lilly nodded to Cynthia to continue from there. “Mr Everwood made a number of fine suggestions, which I have used to arrange a somewhat different day. I have invited your friends to join you in a day of quad bike racing and paint-balling within the estate grounds, accompanied by a wide selection of street foods and followed by an outdoor projector showing your choice of films.” “Are you serious?” Rachael almost bounced out of her chair with excitement. “Well, I hear the groundskeeper almost had a heart-attack when Cynthia told him to arrange the workmen and diggers to set up the race-track, so I think we’re pretty much committed now, otherwise he’ll think we were just playing a cruel joke on him.” Rachael’s father laughed. “Thank you! I love you both so much!” Rachael exclaimed, leaping forwards and hugging her parents. “After brunch, we’ll go into the city and take you shopping, perhaps have a look at some jewellery, you may as well have something new to show off and I think the least I can do for my part in this is to arrange for your mother to be able to at least see you in a nice dress by taking you both out for dinner. Deal?” “Deal!” Rachael grinned. She wasn’t a traditionally girly, girl, and generally preferred to wear more practical clothes like track suits or cargo pants and a vest. Aside from the obvious times when she was exercising, they were just more comfortable, and nothing her mother wanted her to wear ever had pockets! But she would admit that she did still occasionally like to get dressed up nicely if they were going out somewhere, she was a young woman after all. “Perhaps before we go, you might want to go have a shower and change into something a little more suitable however.” Lilly said, repressing the urge to protect her dress from the sweat dripping from her daughter. “Oh, yes, sorry mum!” Rachael grinned again, using a napkin to futilely wipe some sweat from her mother’s dress.