I remember the blue sky, the green grass stretching at my feet. I remember the softness of the wind caressing my face.
And suddenly… Back to reality.
The first lash wakes me up with a start. Half asleep, the burn on my buttock brings me back to my senses and to my fate.
— Get up, my pretty, it’s time to show what you’re worth.
Without warning, the whip falls on my offered back. This is not the first time my skin has been marked by leather…. It won’t be the last. With a sudden gesture, the guard pulls me by the neck and takes me out of my cell. As soon as I wake up, I can hardly move forward, and once again, the whip comes down on my buttocks which immediately turn red.
— Faster, bitch.
I hurry, the irons on my ankles nearly trip me with each step. The slabs of the barracks are cold, I can hardly walk… And the whip hits my kidneys. This time I groan in pain, and I hear the guard sneering. I can’t wait for this to be over… I will satisfy anyone to never again suffer the taunts and games of these perverts.
We cross a long corridor and finally arrive outside, in the hall. The hall is gigantic, with dozens of stalls that follow one another along the aisles. In the center is the stage of the human meat. I find my friends, my neighbors, those who a month earlier were enjoying a peaceful life, without suspecting for a moment that a fiery night would be enough to bring them to hell.
— AAAAH!
This time I scream as the whip crack, my shackled feet miss a step and I collapse on the platform. Immediately the guard pulls me up by the hair. I don’t hear his admonitions, I only see this long row of naked women hanging from a large beam, offered as a show. I hold back my tears and let myself be pushed under the whip to my place.
Without any gentleness or compassionate look, the guard binds the irons of my hands to a chain hanging from the beam of the platform. Like the others before me, I feel my body rise as the guard pulls on the chain. And soon I find myself on my toes, my body torn apart vertically, one of many butcher’s pieces. Before leaving, the guard slaps my buttocks. Docile, I remain tied up, waiting for my fate. The sound of boots on the platform makes me thrill. The Master is here. He passes in front of us, the whip in his hand. He and his men used it so much on us during the trip, I will never forget each of these lashes: in the morning when we woke up, all day long during the walk, in the evening when I served the meal, when I danced for them, my shadow undulating with the flames of the campfire… And at night when I learned to my cost the carnal arts that a slave must master to survive.
— Listen to me, all you bitches, the Master spits at us with a black look. I hope to get rid of all of you today. So don’t be shy, put your forms in evidence. If I see one resisting, the whole line takes a lash. You’d better please, otherwise the unsold ones will end up in the galleys. Come on my pretty ones, let’s see if your buttocks are used for something else than blushing.
And like a shepherd motivating his flock, the Master slams the leather snake on our offered rumps. I grit my teeth to keep from moaning. The others do the same.
At the bottom of the platform, the crowd is slowly forming. People come and go, free, satisfied to be able to eyeing us on the way. Attached to the beam, I feel their envious glances on me, as on the others. I should offer myself to them, I replay in my head all the postures, the good behaviors to adopt, everything to satisfy them… Everything to leave this stage.
Next to us, the Master is already bringing up the first customers. And so begins the review of the goods. One after the other, we are palpated, observed, gauged. I remain silent, and just nod to each comment about me when it is my turn.
— She doesn’t look very cooperative, says a man, forcing me to raise my chin.
— Hum, she has a good rump, she would be perfect to take care of my guests, says a second one while patting my buttocks.
— She is too beautiful for the household, curses a richly dressed woman while caressing my crotch.
They touch me, grope me, then move on to the next one. Cathia is the first to leave. Without even looking at us, I see her leave the stage, held on a leash, docile, following her new owner in the crowd. And the Master spanks us again. He doesn’t say anything, just comes up behind me, roughs me up and leaves. When he punishes Isabella, on my left, he seems to put more force. Poor thing, I think she is the one who spent the night with the guards. I should be thankful that I only had to satisfy a few of them during the trip from my burning village to the Kingdom market.
The second wave is more expeditious. The customers are in a hurry, the male slaves who follow them are swimming carrying all sorts of packages. I tell myself that I could serve them, being a slave to a slave is always better than ending up in the galleys. I could clean my owner’s house during the day, and offer my body to these unfortunate people at night… A slap pulls me out of my reverie, and sends me back to the face of a fat man with a lustful look.
— I asked you a question, slut, answer.
Surprised, I lower the glance and begin to stammer miserably.
— I… Sorry, Sir, I…
Another slap, and the man goes off to grope Celine on my right. From the corner of my eye, I see him having fun tormenting her, his fingers pinching her nipples. Then his hand comes to force her offered intimacy.
— Are you a virgin? He asks with a perverse smile.
— Yes, Sir, sighs Celine shivering.
A simple exchange of glances between this pig and the Master is enough, Celine is sold. A guard unties her and lets her fall at her owner’s feet. Without paying attention to her cries, the guard ties her collar to a leash, and the client pulls her up to force her to stand. I look away as a slap falls on her desperate face, but I can hear the insults flying. At my side, Isabella moans in turn, the whip has reached her kidneys. It is my fault, I did not listen to the client, and the Master punishes her instead of me. When another man comes near me, I bulge my breasts, I put forward my tangled body hoping to be chosen this time… But it is lost, I do not like, the youngest are privileged. The hours follow one another, with their lot of humiliations, while the sun continues to rise above the hall. At the end of the morning, we are only four to waddle like worms to attract the eyes.
I tremble as I feel the Master passing behind me. When he undoes my chain, I fall at his feet, naked and pitiful. But the Master does not care about my fear. Nobody wanted me, I don’t deserve his mercy. One by one, we fall to our knees and remain on the platform. Around us, the stalls close, the market will remain closed until the next day. But the day is not over. The curse is about to begin, the worst nightmare for someone in my situation. I exchange glances with the others. Esther’s green eyes are already wet, while Isabella’s remain closed, resigned. Soon the boatswains will come… And the managers of seedy brothels… And the men of the mines… And those of the fields… Soon, I will be nothing but a nobody, an ingenue too clumsy to serve an owner.
I feel the Master’s footsteps coming and going on the platform, waiting to throw us away like trash. Desperate, I risk to raise my eyes and meet his, inquisitive. Silent, naked, at his feet, I beg him with my submissive eyes. I will do everything to satisfy him, I will accept all the humiliations and the worst punishments that he can imagine.
Everything… Everything, but not the waste.