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.
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