Chapter 17- Zion's Diary Entry 1

Writing in this cursed diary is such a daunting task, but Akida insists that it's beneficial to my mental well being, so here's to following doctor's orders. At least I have an interesting topic to write about in this entry, instead of droning on about business deals and prototypes. I was out to bid on some new properties today, and something a bit unexpected, to say the least, occurred at the auction house. I'm now the owner of a slave. She's quite a pretty little thing, actually.

I suppose I didn't really intend on things turning out this way, but when I saw her, I just couldn't let someone else snatch her away. There's something about her that just pulls me in. I'm all too well aware that I'm no saint, but the thought of her being sold to one of those fat old devils was too much for even my dark heart to bear. The other bidders looked like lions, ready to pounce on her, like weak prey. She wouldn't even stand a chance against those pot bellied heathens.

Mr. Nashira is well known for being cruel to his growing little harem of sex slaves, and I could just see the way he salivated over her. The sheer number of young girls who have been reported dead after some of his despicable smut parties have gone wrong is just outrageous. I can't believe that his right to own slaves has not been revoked. Then again, when he has so many kingdom officials attending his orgies, it's not surprising that he's been allowed to continue to abuse his financial power.

I just couldn't look the other way today, and let someone like him take her. This girl named Euroah... Her piercing blue eyes were so desperate for a way out of there. The only way to save her was to buy her for myself. It's just a shame that she's now at my mercy. I'm not a good man either. And there's something about her that I just can't get out of my mind, no matter how I do try. She's so innocent and pure, but there's a fire, an anger burning inside her heart. She's a fighter, much stronger than her puny physique would lead one to believe.

The way she ran from the auctioneer and security officers was quite a show. I'll admit that I was impressed. I'm glad she wasn't badly hurt in the process. I can't deny the fact that I see a piece of my mother's fighting spirit in her. It's not going to be easy finding a balance between showing her who's boss, and making her happy. I've yet to see her smile. The girl hates me, and she has every right to. I suppose it's better that way. Nonetheless, I find her comforting. I want to be near her even though she can't stand to see me.

My presence causes her extraordinary pain, I'm sure. They tell me that her father was murdered, and she probably blames me. I understand how she must feel, and if I had a heart, it would break for her. She's totally alone right now. I can be the one to take the blame. I'm okay with pretending she doesn't affect me. As long as I can keep her safe and close, I know I've done my good deed. I'll be the bad guy. And I guess that my hope is that I can help to make her comfortable during her grieving process. I've set up a room for her near mine, and I can see her whenever I want.

For now, I'll try to watch her from a distance as much as possible. The thing is, there's something about her scent that makes me lose self control. Her smell is intoxicating. My decision making process gets cloudy, and I just want to lay her down and make our bodies become one. It's so vastly different from coming into contact with a pretty maid, a beautiful celebrity, or even a gorgeous royal. It's physically painful to hold back, but I just can't allow myself to give in to my dark desires with Euroah. I made a promise to her. I can't be what she needs, anyway.

She's never known the touch of another man. She's also dealing with the loss of everything she knew and loved. I don't want to hurt her further. No matter how much I want to bed her this instant, I will give her time. I'll control myself by all means, until she's ready. As long as I can touch her, caress her, feel the softness of her skin on mine, I'll only share in simple pleasures with her. So long as I can make her feel good while I'm selfishly achieving my own satisfaction, I'll hold back.

I know that I shouldn't feel so dirty. Masters buy slaves every day. Some are purely for manual labor, but the vast majority of female slaves purchased are bought for the sole purpose of being used for sex. It's such a common occurrence in everyday life, yet I'm having a hard time with the thought of forcing myself on her. I wonder if she could ever forgive me if I lose control and take things too far? Not that she has to forgive me, but sometimes, I wish I could have more than just a physical bond, with someone who desires me for the man I am.

Sometimes I think it would be nice to have someone who actually enjoys my company and wants me to hold them close. But all of this emotional nonsense is too much. This is why I prefer not to have 'feelings'. It complicates things. Bedding women is so simple. I have dozens of servant girls at my disposal at any given time. They practically throw themselves at me, any opportunity they get. And there are professionals too, if I want to have an intense night of pleasure. Women all over the world would kill for a chance to share a bed with me. So why am I so fixated on this feisty slave girl, who hasn't the slightest desire to be mine?

I guess that's just the nature of human kind or something. Humans are fascinating creatures. We seem to desire the things that are unattainable to us, even when we have so much right at our fingertips. Whether it's right or wrong, legal or not, I don't want to take her virginity, just because she belongs to me, though, I do find it a deeply meaningful gesture to be the first, and only, one she will share the deepest parts of her body with. I'd be lying if I said the thought of deflowering her isn't immensely arousing to me.

Her entire being is like the color white. Her heart is still untainted by the evils of this world, in so many ways, still unstained by vanity. She's naturally beautiful like a delicate lily, and her hair shines like golden fields of barley, blowing in the wind. When I look at her, I feel renewal, a fresh breath of hope. She's as close to perfect as nature makes. I do even admire her free spirit, but I am not a patient man. I'm not used to being disobeyed. That's going to take me some getting used to. With time, if I can learn to withhold my temper, maybe she can come to enjoy my company.

I know that I'm practically asking for a miracle. That kind of thing doesn't happen. It's silly. A man like me doesn't deserve to have someone love him, anyway. Everyone I love meets a tragic end. She's better off if she hates me. Because of who I am, what I have, and what others could gain from my position, anyone in my life could easily become a target. I can't do that to anyone, let alone her. If I were to allow someone to love me, then I would truly be a devil. But if Euroah is my slave, I can keep her safe in the manor. I can protect her, and experience a bit of the happiness that so many others have.

As always, I'm overthinking things again. I've only known this girl for a day, and already I'm daydreaming like a child, and adjusting for every scenario that could happen. In the end, I'm her master and she's my slave. No matter how it came to be, this is the case. I have to focus on the company and all the people who rely on my decisions for the survival of their families. At least I have something to look forward to in my coming days, a new toy of sorts. I'll finish my whiskey and head to bed.