capture & shipping

Capture

She woke up terrified a hand closed over her mouth, somebody was in her flat, her bedroom, on her bed. She wanted to scream, wanted to move but she was paralysed with fright. The light went on 2 men were over her, her duvet was torn from her, she was nude. The leather jacketed men were tall & muscular, powerful & confident, there were 2 other men in her living room. She was yanked out of bed, to her feet, by a fistful of her hair. She opened her mouth as if to protest. Expertly a cold rod was forced between her buttocks, its cold tip just into the tender skin of her anus. She shrieked in pain the cattle prod discharged on her naked flesh. One of the men laughed, as she sobbed.
“I still prefer the whip” He said to his colleague.
“Plenty of time for that later” the man with the cattle prod replied
The device was pressed hard up her anus, she was lifted onto her tiptoes.
“From now on, bitch, be quiet & obedient, understood”
She nodded terrified
“How long have we got before the van gets here” He shouted to one of the men in the living room.
“An hour or so, I told you we were too early” came the reply
“Has the slut got anything to drink ?” came another voice.
“Or we could open her legs”
“She’s a virgin.”
“Not for much longer” laughter
“Are you going to rape me ?” She asked crying.
“Not just yet” was the cold reply
Have you anything cold to drink, fucktoy ?” He asked her
“There’s some beer in the fridge, & wine” she said faintly.
The other man was fishing in her laundry basket, he pulled out a pair of her worn panties. She loved silk panties, expensive & feminine. He stuffed the soiled briefs into her mouth, she looked up at him in tears..
“She can fetch it in silence” He said
The naked girl was pushed into the living room & then into her kitchen. The men sat down on her sofas, she fetched them each a can of beer. One of the men kicked her coffee table out of the way. Stand there she was told.
The four men looked at her candidly drinking her beer, she was left gagged.
“Not a bad little slut” was the assessment
She watched in tears as a cigarette was ground into her carpet An empty can was tossed to the floor.
“More” she was told
A heavy leather wrap was unfolded on the floor, it was a body hood. She was pushed to her knees, her mouth was ungagged, for a few seconds. They forced her into the leather sheath, she was distraught. The leather was quite thick but polished & creamed so as to be very supple. It came down to her thighs, at her head a thick ball of leather was pushed into her mouth, distressingly the ball expanded to fill her mouth. External straps secured the gag, similar straps bound her upper & lower arms tightly. A thick strap went between her legs and another clamped her thighs together. There was no need to lock them, she was utterly powerless inside the hood. Her ankles were hobbled. They left her kneeling in front of them. In the darkness of the tight leather, clammy with fear, her own & the hoods previous occupants, she sobbed helplessly into her gag. Secured now she was ignored, as the men waited for the transport.
Eventually the van came, she was slung easily over a shoulder & carried out, thrown kneeling in the back. There were 19 other girls in the van, bound tightly. Twenty girls in total, all blonde, none of them had been able to show much resistance. Abruptly put under male dominance, no longer free. The van drove off into the darkness. a nights work well done.
Handling
It was early morning before the van stopped again, in the hills, at an isolated farm building. The men jumped out, the van was backed into the low stone building. The blindfolded women were pulled stumbling from the van. Through a heavy metal door & then the barefoot girls herded down some icy stone steps. In the cellar the terrified girls were knelt on the rough cobbles, damp & frozen, on their bare knees. The leader of the group delved into the carryall he had over his shoulder. A bunch of keys was produced & whilst lighting a smoke, fiddled with them finding the correct keys. He then proceeded to open another thick metal door. One of the men went to a drainage channel close to the kneeling women & urinated. The girl nearest to him had her legs splashed, she squirmed anxiously in her hood. He lit a cigarette and jeered at the captive.
“If you don’t get out of my way quicker than that slut, you can drink it next time.”
She knelt stock still paralysed with fright.
“Do you understand girl”
She didn’t move.
He crouched down besides her & rasped into her ear
“Do you understand fucktoy ?”
Finally understanding what he wanted she nodded frantically in the hood.
“Closer to the wall now” He shouted at her, the terrified girl pressed her hooded face into the stone wall.
“Good” he said laughing
The door was open now revealing another bare stone room, not lit illuminated by the other room.
“Stop fucking around with her & get them ready”
The girls were stood up & lined up, led to the door. One by one stood in front of the opened & kicked violently through, the men careful not to go anywhere near the opening. One by one the girls disappeared from sight. When the final girl had been pushed through, the door was closed & locked on the still empty room. The men locked the doors & left in the van. Driving through mostly empty fields in the early morning mist, nothing around for miles & miles, job finished.
In another stone room the stumbling girls were seized & knelt facing another cool wall. A different place, completely different The air was hot & humid, like deep summer, somehow also the atmosphere felt cleaner. The girls felt totally weak as if their bodies had been momentarily completely limp & relaxed. They were simple to be manhandled by the slavers. The bewildered girls knelt quietly against the wall, already pliable and fearfully awaiting what was to be done to them,
There were 3 men working in the room, one was boiling a large pot of water, into which he was carefully inserting large rubbery capsules, roughly the size of short fat cucumbers.
His colleague went to each girl in turn and opened the big toes instep. Noted down the tattooing. It basically denoted the point of arrival, in this case here, & whether her hymen was intact or not. The meaning of a third symbol was unknown, to all but a select few. This tattooing was very discreet & actually strangely for tattoos faded after a few weeks, was done automatically by the gateways. The girls were separated according to the state of their hymens.

“19 tonight.” He commented to his colleague.
“I wonder where the twentieth ended up” Came the reply.
Occasionally a girl would turn up wandering confused in the hills, or washed up on the coast, mostly they just didn’t turn up anywhere where they could be found. One of the rubbery capsules was put back into a bag.

“No matter, less work for us”
A bota of wine was passed around while the capsules were softening in the liquid, eventually they were ready. The first girl to be processed had her head pushed firmly to the ground. He buttocks were lifted up & the hood unbuckled around her thighs. One of the men lifted one of the capsules from the boiling water. Tossing it from hand to hand it was so hot. Another of the men spread her buttocks & the capsule was expertly rammed into place, right up inside her. Even inside the hood gagged as she was, her squeals & moaning were loudly audible. The other girls squirmed in distress. She was a virgin so the hood was simply closed & re-buckled shut. She knelt against the wall squirming & sobbing in pain.
The transport enemas contained, nutrients so that she could be transported for up to 2 weeks without being fed or watered. As new arrivals the capsule had also been spiked with a language drug that greatly aided the new slaves in learning gorean, simple iteration was all that was needed to teach gorean.
One of the girls kicked out fearfully as they opened her hood, a sharp crack of the shortened bullwhip across her legs silenced her & the other slaves.
One by one the girls were processed, the virgin or white silk girls simply had the enemas applied and the hoods closed. The girls who weren’t virgins had thick rubber phalluses, self lubricated with greasy jelly attached to the bottom belt of the hood, secured into the anus & vagina. The girls would squirm on these for the remainder of their transportation, developing internal muscles. This reflected the different expectations of slavegirls. White silk girls are expected to be tight & part of their pleasure is opening them for the first time, to some extent enjoying a girls reluctance & distress. Non white silk girls were expected to be tight but open & penetrated easily, the only resistance her fear. Also the dildos are seen as punishment for the earth girls, for using their bodies for their own pleasure, without a Masters permission, theft.
They were then led stumbling out into the early morning sun & pushed into a low cage carriage. The cage was tiny intended for only 10 cramped occupants. These girls were lucky often 30 girls were confined in these cages. The girls were secured in place kneeling, heads bowed by the height of the enclosure. It was then padlocked & a thick leather curtain was closed over the cage.
The men tidied up & prepared breakfast for themselves, settling in for a quick nap before setting off later in the morning.
It was a five day ride before they reached a major city & the slavers pens, the girls would remain in the cage until then.

flotsam

She opened her eyes, it had been a dream after all. She opened her eyes, the intense sunlight hurt her eyes. She woke up quickly, she was absolutely naked outside. Scrambling to her feet she looked around. The landscape was featureless, flat sand all around, no direction, no trees, no features just sand. And it was hot sand, her feet were burning. Her limbs felt loose jelly like, as if they had been totally relaxed. Had she dreamed the night before, it didn’t feel like a dream, this didn’t feel like a dream. She started walking, trotting desperately just to cool her feet. After ten minutes she was sobbing.
He watched her from the distance keeping the sunlight between himself & her, he had been slowly gaining on her for an hour or so. There was no hurry, there was nowhere she could go. Finally he galloped towards her, she saw him & tried to run, he rode past her & slapped her to the ground. He turned round the prone girl on horseback for a few seconds then jumped down, seizing a fistful of her hair. She tried to struggle free, hitting out at his breastplate, quite futilely. He slapped her, that calmed her, or quietened her. He opened her mouth and looked at the inevitable tattoo.
Strange but not so strange, the gateways were sometimes wildly erratic, she was a thousand miles astray. The slavers mark was from across the sea & north.
She seemed to have gained her composure somewhat, babbling questions at him in her native tongue.
He slapped her again.
“Shut up slave” he told her she didn’t understand, but the force of his slap spoke volumes.
He drank from his canteen, then filled a bowl for his horse, and then his pack mule. He looked at her she was terribly dehydrated, he gave her the bowl last. She looked up gratefully.
She seemed to be indicating her nakedness, he looked at her pale skin, perhaps it would be a shame to ruin that complexion. Fishing around in one of his packs he found the only item of women’s clothing he was carrying. He tossed the scarlet silk burka to her. He had taken it from a girl two nights earlier, it was still quite stained & smelly from her rape. The girl had been collared & sold, he kept the burka intending to use the silk to clean his leathers & armour. Karen put the burka on, it was tight & close fitting, only open at the eyes, the silk clinging to her curves quite prettily. Designed really for wearing over a house pantaloon set, not nudity She squirmed in discomfort, the garment was quite smelly, & still intimately soiled, quite suitable, if a tad modest for one such her, he thought.
He had no chains or collar for her, he took a portion of leather cord & bound her ankles together, then her wrists behind her in the burka. He decided for no particular reason not to gag her. She was slung on top of the mule, at least she was seated, not strung across.
He remounted, took a long swig from his canteen & spurred his horse into movement. She followed behind him on the mule, he was whistling.


Not a dream


She opened her eyes, it had been a dream after all. She opened her eyes, the intense sunlight hurt her eyes. She woke up quickly, she was absolutely naked outside. Scrambling to her feet she looked around. The landscape was featureless, flat sand all around, no direction, no trees, no features just sand. And it was hot sand, her feet were burning. Her limbs felt loose jelly like, as if they had been totally relaxed. Had she dreamed the night before, it didn’t feel like a dream, this didn’t feel like a dream. She started walking, trotting desperately just to cool her feet. After ten minutes she was sobbing.
He watched her from the distance keeping the sunlight between himself & her, he had been slowly gaining on her for an hour or so. There was no hurry, there was nowhere she could go. Finally he galloped towards her, she saw him & tried to run, he rode past her & slapped her to the ground. He turned round the prone girl on horseback for a few seconds then jumped down, seizing a fistful of her hair. She tried to struggle free, hitting out at his breastplate, quite futilely. He slapped her, that calmed her, or quietened her. He opened her mouth and looked at the inevitable tattoo.
Strange but not so strange, the gateways were sometimes wildly erratic, she was a thousand miles astray. The slavers mark was from across the sea & north.
She seemed to have gained her composure somewhat, babbling questions at him in her native tongue.
He slapped her again.
“Shut up kajira” he told her she didn’t understand, but the force of his slap spoke volumes.
He drank from his canteen, then filled a bowl for his horse, and then his pack mule. He looked at her she was terribly dehydrated, he gave her the bowl last. She looked up gratefully.
She seemed to be indicating her nakedness, he looked at her pale skin, perhaps it would be a shame to ruin that complexion. Fishing around in one of his packs he found the only item of women’s clothing he was carrying. He tossed the scarlet silk burka to her. He had taken it from a girl two nights earlier, it was still quite stained & smelly from her rape. The girl had been collared & sold, he kept the burka intending to use the silk to clean his leathers & armour. Karen put the burka on, it was tight & close fitting, only open at the eyes, the silk clinging to her curves quite prettily. She squirmed in discomfort, the garment was quite smelly, & still intimately soiled, excellent he thought.
He had no chains or collar for her, he took a portion of leather cord & bound her ankles together, then her wrists behind her in the burka. He decided for no particular reason not to gag her. She was slung on top of the mule, at least she was seated, not strung across.
He remounted, took a long swig from his canteen & spurred his horse into movement. She followed behind him on the mule, he was whistling.

inferior

She sat behind him on the mule, sheathed in the crimson chador. She had taken the hint, of his slap & kept quiet. Her leather binds were very inflexible, even if she had wished to remove them where could she run to, where was she. He knew, she did not. If she had managed to unbind herself he could easily ride her down, more than likely chase her on foot too, he was muscular & athletic. If she somehow gave him the slip, he could probably track her easily. She was in his hands, controlled by him.
She wanted to talk, to ask him, where she was, what was happening, why was she here. But she suspected she already had the answer to the latter 2 questions. Fucktoy, rape, slut, virgin, whip the words danced in her mind. & what did ‘kajira’ mean & why did he spit it out so derisively looking at her as if she was worthless, expected to be obedient. She had felt demeaned by his tone rather than the physical violence. Moreover she felt that for now she had better be meek & obedient.
Her garment stank of sex & fear inside, was sticky at the loins & mouth. He had been in the markets at dusk, the girl had been late. A few minutes, not much longer later than she should have been. Locked in her families compound, safe until she was sold into slavery by her own family or married off. She was eighteen or so, had been fetching water. Hadn’t rushed out of his way in time, quickly enough. Something about her curves in the red silk had inflamed him, to punish her & enjoy her. He had seized her & dragged her into a tavern, pushing her into an alcove. He had bound her in the garment, hooding & gagging her in the silk sheath. He had whipped her legs quite sternly. Then he had raped her, breaching both her orifices for the first time. He had wiped herself on the insides of her garment She had performed fellatio through the silk. she had been locked in the taverns slave cage for the night, it being too late to take her to the slavers, while he enjoyed a more experienced, trained pleasure slave for the night. Apparently a few more tavern customers had enjoyed the girl that night, still bound in the silken sheath. She had fetched a few copper coins at the slavers the next morning, not much, on a slave coffle by that evening, bound for the next trading post, shipped out of the city, a slave, hooded, gagged and helpless, for her first sale. He had been pleased by her fate, well punished for not moving her pretty curves fast enough.
The sheaths new occupant was seething & squirming with frustration on the mule. She was plonked on several leather sacks, seemingly stuffed with all manner of hard uncomfortable objects. Along with a couple of bales of something. The beast of burden plodded along, lurching this way & that, she felt very precarious unsettled. Behind her was another mule similarly laden down, the mules were tethered to each other, behind his horse. She felt that she was part of the tether.
When the sun was at its highest, he stopped watered the mules & his horse, then sat in the shade of his horse & had some bread & meat, some water. He left her perched on the mule, thirsty, fuming, just baggage. He sat for a while regarding her while smoking a couple of long hand rolled cigarettes, she didn’t meet his eyes, or dare speak.
He urinated in the sand, she watched him wishing she could raise the courage to ask to go herself. He didn’t offer, didn’t even think of offering. They set off again.
It was nearly dark before they finally reached some features in this flat wasteland, an oasis & a desert small camp.



She sat behind him on the mule, sheathed in the crimson chador. She had taken the hint, of his slap & kept quiet. Her leather binds were very inflexible, even if she had wished to remove them where could she run to, where was she. He knew, she did not. If she had managed to unbind herself he could easily ride her down, more than likely chase her on foot too, he was muscular & athletic. If she somehow gave him the slip, he could probably track her easily. She was in his hands, controlled by him.
She wanted to talk, to ask him, where she was, what was happening, why was she here. But she suspected she already had the answer to the latter 2 questions. Fucktoy, rape, slut, virgin, whip the words danced in her mind. & what did ‘kajira’ mean & why did he spit it out so derisively looking at her as if she was worthless, expected to be obedient. She had felt demeaned by his tone rather than the physical violence. Moreover she felt that for now she had better be meek & obedient.
Her garment stank of sex & fear inside, was sticky at the loins & mouth. He had been in the markets at dusk, the girl had been late. A few minutes, not much longer later than she should have been. Locked in her families compound, safe until she was sold into slavery by her own family or married off. She was eighteen or so, had been fetching water. Hadn’t rushed out of his way in time, quickly enough. Something about her curves in the red silk had inflamed him, to punish her & enjoy her. He had seized her & dragged her into a tavern, pushing her into an alcove. He had bound her in the garment, hooding & gagging her in the silk sheath. He had whipped her legs quite sternly. Then he had raped her, breaching both her orifices for the first time. He had wiped herself on the insides of her garment She had performed fellatio through the silk. she had been locked in the taverns slave cage for the night, it being too late to take her to the slavers, while he enjoyed a more experienced, trained pleasure slave for the night. Apparently a few more tavern customers had enjoyed the girl that night, still bound in the silken sheath. She had fetched a few copper coins at the slavers the next morning, not much, on a slave coffle by that evening, bound for the next trading post, shipped out of the city, a slave, hooded, gagged and helpless, for her first sale. He had been pleased by her fate, well punished for not moving her pretty curves fast enough.
The sheaths new occupant was seething & squirming with frustration on the mule. She was plonked on several leather sacks, seemingly stuffed with all manner of hard uncomfortable objects. Along with a couple of bales of something. The beast of burden plodded along, lurching this way & that, she felt very precarious unsettled. Behind her was another mule similarly laden down, the mules were tethered to each other, behind his horse. She felt that she was part of the tether.
When the sun was at its highest, he stopped watered the mules & his horse, then sat in the shade of his horse & had some bread & meat, some water. He left her perched on the mule, thirsty, fuming, just baggage. He sat for a while regarding her while smoking a couple of long hand rolled cigarettes, she didn’t meet his eyes, or dare speak.
He urinated in the sand, she watched him wishing she could raise the courage to ask to go herself. He didn’t offer, didn’t even think of offering. They set off again.
It was nearly dark before they finally reached some features in this flat wasteland, an oasis & a small desert camp.

the men relax

The camp was quite small, & busy. Two caravans had stopped here for a couple of days. The growing gloom was lit by camp fires & lamps in tents. Children were running around playing, in and out of a small pool, men were swimming in the pool, talking & playing with the children. At the other end of the pool some women were busy scrubbing clothes. He dismounted a couple of men greeted him warmly. One of the men summoned some older boys who were instructed to unload & water his mules.
He lifted her down from the mule & stripped the chador from her, the men looked at her quite candidly while they chatted, not particularly interested in her at the moment, she looked down. He unbound her ankles & wrists, she glanced up briefly, thankful & uncertain. He caught her eyes in his, frightened she quickly looked down.
The men stopped a girl who was struggling past yoked with two very large buckets of water. Karen couldn’t understand a word they were saying but the tone & body language was evocative. The men gave the girl curt instructions, dismissively, her responses were very respectful & obsequious. The girl led Karen away towards the cooking area. Her captor went for a swim in the pool.
The kitchen tent was quite hot & humid, its flaps down to keep flies off the food. There were several women working preparing food, they were scantily dressed, some wore bikini sets, others harem pantaloons, others simple slips. Some had their breasts bare others not. All the women wore tiny silk mouth veils, & all the women wore steel collars. Some were wives, but most were merely slaves, the wives seemed to be permitted more clothing, & generally were in charge.
Karen wasn’t given any time for reflection one of the wives came up to talk to her. She was friendly, but obviously expected the naked newcomer to obey her. Karen looked at her blankly. When it finally dawned on the woman that Karen couldn’t understand a word she was saying, Karen was given a small peeling knife & put in front of a large pile of vegetables. Tired, confused, numbly she started peeling, rather than face a confrontation, especially one complicated by the language barrier. The woman patted her head sympathetically, she had seen lots of new slavegirls. It takes them a little while to settle in. Karen looked up gratefully in tears, for the first kindness she had been shown, for the first acknowledgement of her. The woman wiped her tears away with her hair, helping her brush it back behind her ears. Whilst gently directing Karen’s attention to the peeling. She continued stroking her hair gently. Enjoying the soft feel, the novelty of her blonde hair, not so very uncommon, but not everyday here.
Meat & vegetables were being roasted, bread & sweet pastries baked. After two hours the meal was prepared, Karen & the girl who had brought her to the cooking tent were sent to fetch more water. Karen's knees nearly buckling under the heavy yoke, taking her cue from her companion & the proximity of the men, both girls fetched quickly & without complaint. After the prepared food was taken into the main tent for the seated men all the cooking implements were scrubbed spotlessly clean by the slaves, wives departed to take care of younger children.
Kneeling in the kitchen, the delicious aroma of the cooked food, lingering in the air Karen & the other girls were each given a small bowl of plain rice. They ate with their fingers, slaves in the north would be grateful for that privilege. They were also permitted a small bowl of water each.
Then they were taken back to the slave area, comprising of a couple of shaded wooden cages that were locked at night and some slave paraphernalia, a whipping post, some stocks etc. The girls were permitted to toilet in a bucket, then wash & clean their clothes & themselves. One of the slaves knelt with Karen & began to smear a thick gooey paste all over her body, pressing a friendly finger to Karen's lips to silence her murmured protestations. The paste was washed off & Karen's body had been completely depilated. Then she was bathed with slave soap, the wives use it too here. A thick scented oily bar, that cleansed & moisturized her skin completely. She felt like she had been saturated with baby oil, yet her skin was dry to the touch but incredibly smooth & soft. Such a strange, very tactile & vulnerable sensation. She then helped Karen wash & brush her hair, chattering & giggling inanities at her, ignoring the language barrier. Karen started crying, the slaves rushed to comfort her. Their frank kindness made her feel worse, more alone & alienated.
From the main tent there was music & laughter, loud male voices, sounds of enjoyment. Karen knelt with the slaves waiting.
After a short while Some of the girls were summoned to the main tent, Karen still nude was led there too. Her companion, or captor was sitting talking to the two men who had greeted him.
Karen was knelt down near her captor, or more factually knelt beside his chair facing the tent wall behind him. Occasionally she furtively sneaked a glimpse of the goings on behind her.
He watched her do this a couple of times then snapped his fingers loudly pointing to the tent wall. She shifted uneasily & reddened. He smiled as he heard a tiny cry of frustration from her, how pleasant they are to tease.
He left her waiting while he and his companions ate.
She didn’t turn again.

she isnt sold just yet

After the men had finished eating slavegirls served more wine & hashish pipes. Karen waited in frustrated silence, facing the tent wall, eventually she was summoned to kneel in front of the men. Marcus her captor lifted her chin with a black leather riding crop, the leather tab smelt of fear & sex, Karen couldn’t help but be frightened by the implement too. Using the whip he straightened her posture lifted her breasts & nipples slightly, parted her legs ever so slightly until he was satisfied with her appearance.
“Shipwrecked ?”
“Maybe”
“More likely a lost caravan, she is white silk & unbranded too”
Not many are privy to knowledge about the gateways, only those directly involved in the slave trade, & of those only a select few. Fewer still suspect the true nature of the tunnels. Marcus was occasionally involved in the slave trade.
“Quite pretty, how much do you want for her ?”
He saw her only as a commodity, rather than for his own pleasure. Blondes like Karen were relatively rare in these parts, she might sell well in the markets. A small bonus above the usual profit.
“I’ve not decided to sell her yet”
A shrug.
“Too be honest I’ve not quite decided what to do with her at all.”
“Perhaps we should just rape her now, brand her in the morning” His other companion suggested.
“Perhaps, though I may take her north with me.” The kernel of an idea was growing, he took a deep toke on his pipe, & exhaled a column of smoke “Sometimes its pleasant to watch a girl learn her slavery”
In the days before free women became a rarity, some women approached men and asked to become their slaves, for love. It was quite common to take these women into captivity, & make these women beg for their collars. Only granting that wish when it was clear that she desperately ached to serve. It was also common to open the girl then take her to the slavers the next day & sell her, after all she had begged for her slavery.
Both men smiled, sometimes the trip across the desert & coast was long & uneventful, even a slave could be a pleasant companion if well handled.
“Anyway to business, do you have a spare capsule” a language capsule.
A smile “I’m not so sure I have any spare capsules”
Marcus took a gulp of wine annoyed, he hated all the shilly-shallying sometimes, either you have one or you don’t, if you do, how much. Sometimes his ex military manners, collided with his trading instincts.
“I may have a nice whip, perhaps a collar”
“I already have a whip”
The 3 men moved on to other matters, trading blocks of opiates & hashish quite amicably, he was also trading rare spices & stones, only available in the deep south beyond the desert. Not that he ever went that far down he had traded these further along the coast. A few deals were struck. At the end of the banter & bargaining Marcus was casually handed a capsule.
He beckoned Karen closer & opened her mouth placing the sour tablet on her tongue. His eyes were hard, cold, she swallowed quickly without complaint.
“Do you want a collar for her”
“Not just yet, & I already have a whip”
“Enough already, if we cant enjoy his slut, send her back to the cages.” The third man was getting bored.
Fingers were snapped, more wine served.
She was taken back to the slave cages & locked inside. One of the girls cuddled up to her in the darkness. She drifted off to sleep listening to the sounds of music & dancing, crying softly.

thank you master

She was woken in the morning at dawn. The slaves were already awake & waiting for the cage to be unlocked. One of the men still half asleep unlocked them, and went back to his bed, leaving the slaves to be supervised by the wives. They quickly went to work, quietly cleaning & tidying the camp, cleaning & polishing to perfection all plates, cutlery & goblets. Some slaves were sent to the kitchens, others to the serving areas & laundry tents.
Karen & two other girls were yoked & sent to fetch load after load of water to the kitchen, laundry, & other tents. One of the girls with her had slipped, crying out. She had a bunch of her long dark hair stuffed into her mouth, bent over & her legs whipped for nearly waking the Masters. The girl in tears hurried back to her chores. Karen didn’t dare stop or falter.
She was surprised to find herself able to understand the girls language now, picking up each words meaning as it was spoken to her. Somehow she wasn’t surprised to find that kajira meant slavegirl.
Breakfast slowly began to make itself known by aroma, as fresh bread, meat eggs were cooked, the smell of fresh coffee roasting & brewing. Gradually the men emerged from their tents, pushing dishevelled slaves out before them, back to their chores.
Karen & a couple of other slaves were set polishing the masters leathers while the men ate. She had to polish his sandals & leather breastplate, while he enjoyed breakfast. Other slaves cleaned & tidied the masters tents. While Karen polished furiously Marcus’s mules were loaded by his hosts sons. He went for a final cooling swim in the pool after breakfast.
She had her wrists & ankles bound tightly again, & she was put in the yashmak. It had been sprayed with a thick smelling perfume, but still felt ever so sticky & soiled.
She was set on one of the mules again amongst the crates, & other merchandise. He smoked a last water pipe with his hosts before setting off into the desert again.
His only words to her this morning, curt instructions as she was bound. That word again kajira, slave, possession, worthless, fucktoy, kajira. The words danced in her head kajira, fucktoy, fucktoy, fucktoy. A kajira to be beaten for falling and nearly waking the men. Owned by men.
They kept going all day, he seemed to be in a hurry today, eager to make progress, only stopping to piss & jump of his horse to stretch his legs. He ignored her all day, lost in the solitude of the desert, not interested in her, or listening to her babbling.
That night they stopped by a very small deserted pool. He made a fire with scrub wood & bathed while she cooked skewers of meat & vegetables over the flames. It was already growing dark. She struggled with the meal never having cooked like this before, never having really cooked before. She was permitted to toilet in the sand & bathe in the pool while the meal finished cooking. The cool water was glorious, she was almost ecstatic. A snap of his fingers, interrupted her, he shouted her.
“Here kajira, serve my food.”
“Yes Master”
He had made camp earlier, instructing her to prepare food & the lamps, his bed, while he kindled the fire. She had obeyed him meekly. He had stopped her & pushed her to her knees at his feet, pushing her head down so that she was forced to look at his feet.
“When I give you instructions girl, I expect you to obey me quickly & eagerly, the correct response is ‘yes Master’ or ‘Yes Master, thank you Master!’, grateful to be given the opportunity to serve.” His voice was firm but not harsh
She knelt bewildered unsure what to do or say, for a second or so.
“Yes Master, thank you Master.” She had whispered.
“Learn well the meaning of your words girl.”
“Yes Master”
Indeed there were no other words in her new vocabulary, gorean feminine vocabulary for addressing men. Somehow it appalled yet thrilled her to say Master.
She got out of the water & came running, surprising herself by her eager obedience. Running to her Masters bidding.
He sat down cross-legged by the fire, he had her kneel to one side of him. She was naked now, denuded of her chador, grateful to be free of the stifling garment. Indeed more grateful to be free from her crimson sheath than to be free of the leather binding cord.
She knelt before him while he ate the meal, she was given a lump of hard bread & cup of water. She didn’t care she was so hungry & thirsty & the pool had been so nice.
He opened a bota of wine & looked at the naked blonde kneeling before him.
“If you ever cook me a meal as bad as that again, I will take you back to those men & sell you to them” He told her drinking his wine.
Stifling a laugh as she reddened.
“After I have whipped you raw!”
Tears sprung into her eyes “Yes Master”
He took another swig of wine to hide his smile and stop himself laughing, how easy earth girls are to tease.
He handed her a brush & small towel.
“Dry your pretty hair girl”
“Yes Master, thank you Master”
He watched her enjoying her nervousness, the flicker of her eyes, every so often upwards, no daring to look directly at him, brushing her hair. It was long & straight, down to her bottom, quite fetching. Every so often her lips would part pensively then she would bite her lip prettily then look down.
She knelt in front of him, agonizingly aware of his eyes on her. Struggling to keep what little composure she had left. Wanting to cry, how helpless & afraid she felt. How she wished she had pleased him with her cooking. Questions trembled on her lips, not daring to speak.
He lifted her chin with his fingers, looking into her eyes.
“Speak girl”
“Master where are you taking this girl ?” There was no word for me in her vocabulary.
“Back to where you belong girl.”
“That isn’t Earth is it Master ?”
“No it isn’t, there is no way back” There was no way back through the gateways.
“Where then Master ?”
“To your owner girl.” Actually to the slave traders.
She had tears in her eyes, as he confirmed what she already knew.
“You haven’t even asked this girls name, Master ?” She said slightly reproachfully, he ignored her impertinence.
“I haven’t named you yet kajira”
“Do you think this girl will be a good slave Master ?” Tearful now.
He indicated his whip hanging from his pack
“You will be a good, pleasing slave, girl” He told her matter of factly.
“Yes Master.”
He unrolled his pack & stretched out on the makeshift bed, she curled up on her silk chador by the fire. The desert night was very cold.
“Come here girl.”
“Yes Master” She whispered frightened.
He had her curl up on his arm and permitted her to sleep, in his blankets. He was tempted to open her legs there & then, but preferred to wait enjoy her opening as a slave slowly. She snuggled up to his strong arm, grateful for his warmth, his kindness, hoping he couldn’t smell the slight wetness between her thighs. His domination thrilled her. As the fire turned to embers she could just make out his whip, she closed her eyes frightened & thrilled.
“Master….” He nodded “Thank you Master”
He grunted half asleep.
She drifted off to sleep wondering to herself what she was thanking the beast for.

baggage

The next three days were uneventful long hot treks, across the empty desert between watering holes. For his part he seemed to like the solitude, ignoring her, riding on the baggage mules behind him. Disregarded except to give her, her instructions in the evening, spending the evenings smoking hashish & drinking wine, while she fetched food & drink for him obediently. The most she could hope for some small talk amid curt instructions. He wasn’t being rude, or unpleasant to her, rather he wasn’t really interested in a girls conversation skills, & regarded her a slight inconvenience, perhaps wishing he had sold her after all.
He enjoyed the desert, & his lonely travelling trading across it. There wasn’t any riches to be found here, just a steady comfortable income. He had started out in the army, serving in elite pathfinder units. After a couple of campaigns, 3 battles & a severe stab wound, he had retired to the sailing life. Still not satisfied, & not wishing at all a settled life, he opted for the desert life. Travelling back & forth mainly trading narcotics, opiates & hashish, but also mushrooms & refined drugs. He also traded precious stones & pretty much anything he came across. Eastwards & westwards but also travelling north across the ocean when he felt like a change.
A couple of times he contemplated putting her between his knees, or raping her, maybe selling her at the next settlement. But reckoned she might prove more entertaining as he approached the more settled areas of his journeying. Besides which he actually knew the trader her shipment had been for. Had served with him, & in fact sailed with him. Although no value would be placed on her return, it provided an amusing reason to travel northwards & visit an old friend for a while, even if only on a whim.
On the 2nd night there was no well, He washed with a canteen of water, she along with the mules & his horse was given a bowlful to drink. Thankfully on the 3rd day another deserted oasis awaited them, on fourth day in the late afternoon they approached a tiny hamlet. Despite being basically a couple of taverns, a market and stables, it was surprisingly busy, saddled across the minor trade routes.
He watched as his mules cargo was unloaded & stored securely at the stables. Then he went to his usual tavern. He had attached a short leather cord to her ankles underneath her scarlet chador & pulled her along with the cord. Her ankles hadn’t been loosened at all & she stumbled, panicky after him, lest the leash tautened too much and she was pulled off her feet.
At the tavern he took her around the back to a walled courtyard. He sat down kneeling her besides him & a slave, naked apart from her veil brought Master Marcus a cold tankard of beer, from inside the tavern there was music & laughter. He dismissed the slave back inside. He removed her chador & bindings & permitted her to toilet in the gutter, allowing her a few mouthfuls of water from a stone trough. The water was stale & warm, the trough too small for any farm animal, designed for slaves. Nonetheless the thirsty girl was grateful, & even more grateful to be permitted to wash herself from another tank of water. He watched her drinking his beer then went inside the tavern & brought out some devices.
She was put inside a nether lock or chastity belt, a broad metal U shape fitting snugly, intimately, between her legs. The metal belt padlocked closed in front of her, the lock heart shaped. Her wrists, were braceleted & the bracelets locked to a ring on the rear of the belt. She felt numb, nearly speechless with indignation, but also with shame to be so excited, locked up like this, by him. The snug steel device had also been recently used & was still soiled by its previous occupants helpless frustration. She felt the sticky residue smear & slip on her own captive intimacies. Her ankles were shackled closely together. Lifting her head he pressed a thick leather ball into her mouth, securing it with the gags a broad strap, buckled & locked behind her head. She squirmed in the metal belt, helpless & vulnerable. He lifted her eyes to his, she was tearful & frightened, her blue quite startling & beautiful over the leather gag. As soon as he permitted she dropped her eyes to his feet, in humiliation & shame.
The metal gate was opened and a line of slaves were led into the courtyard. Chained together by the ankles. Ten girls all secured in full body hoods, in all destined for markets further down the trade routes. Marcus & the girl at his feet, watched the slaves as they were expertly herded into the courtyard and then shoved roughly into a leather curtained cage, legs were whipped to hurry them as the tiny cage was crammed full. The gate was locked & its leather curtain buckled closed.
He looked down at her & lifted a leather hood, she whimpered into her gag fearfully remembering the body hood, & its terror, blind. He decided not to hood her. Finishing his beer he led her to another curtained cage. Drawing back the leather, revealed a cramped cage, already occupied by 10 or so girls, owned & stored by patrons of the tavern. Some were closely bound, most had their ankles & wrists secured. A couple were gagged like herself & another two were hooded too. She was pushed inside the cage. As the gate was locked she wanted to cry out to him, to beg him to keep her with him, but she was quite effectively silenced by her gag. He locked the gate & the curtain was buckled shut, plunging her into total darkness. The smell in the cage was fetid with fear & the arousal of girls aching for their Masters.
Someone knelt close to her in the darkness comforting her, whispered almost inaudibly into her ear. “Welcome kajira”
From outside the cage a male voice shouted “Silence sluts”
There was suddenly absolute silence from inside the cage.
Marcus went inside the tavern, a naked slave preceded him carrying his bags & personal luggage up to his room. She opened the shutters allowing what breeze was to cool the room & knelt at his feet. He had her lay out some fresh clothes from his bag dismissed her with his laundry. He went back downstairs into the other, more pleasant gardened walled courtyard to relax in the shaded pool & drink some beer before dinner.
In the other courtyard a couple more women were pressed into the cage, the girls could hear the merriment from the tavern growing as the afternoon progressed into the evening. They could smell roasting meat & bread baking, most of the girls had been left hungry.
She felt an almost choking sensation of fear as the oppressive & fearful atmosphere, seemed to thicken in the cage as the loudness from the tavern grew. The curtain was suddenly pulled back & a girl summoned, dragged stumbling outside. Another girl was made to perform fellatio through the bars of the cage, the master spraying the other girls with his sticky pleasure, He seemed to make a point of ejaculating a thick wad into the girl formerly known as Karen’s face, the only blonde in the cage. Seeing her try to draw away he seized a fistful of her hair and sprayed her face again, laughing gustily at her obvious distress, he slapped her away.
The curtain was closed again & the girls listened to the slave outside being raped noisily by three men, eventually the soiled & sticky, sobbing girl, gagged & hooded now, was pushed back into the cage. This wasn’t to be the last of the nights visits. Each & any of the girls not locked or gagged were available for use, & were well used, another amusement of the tavern. None of the slaves were permitted to look up and see the Masters face who enjoyed them. In the darkness, fetid now with fear & sex, the nameless girl formerly known as Karen sobbed with fright, pathetically grateful now for her chastity devices.
The music & enjoyment from the tavern grew louder as the night went on. The occupants of the cages knelt waiting in silence. Utterly vulnerable, utterly powerless, frightened, waiting to obey & please their Masters. Utterly submissive to their every whim.
In the tavern Marcus enjoyed a plate of meat & roast vegetables, watching the dancers. After his meal, a dark haired girl with doe black eyes fetched beer & knelt between his legs. He enjoyed three girls in this manner as he chatted to the other men & drank watching the dancers. After midnight he took the first girl to his room, for the night. She was a submissive delight serving him perfectly, obedient & grateful. Waking him in the morning with her mouth, eager only to please & love him further.
He spent the next two nights in the tavern, relaxing and conducting leisurely business in the markets. She waited frightened, in the stuffy darkness of the cage, fetid with sex & fear, mixed with the overpowering smell of leather.
Quite rightly waiting for her owner to collect his mules & cargo, his property.