Hans Meijer - The slave girl

When Corey was freed the next morning for the chores, another girl was unlocked to take her place. Quietly smiling, her Master stood her upright before nineteen curious girls, tied her ankles tight, then took her crossed wrists to the nape of her neck and tied them to her collar. His instruction was terse. "Stand there and keep still."

Miss Corey Gibson stood there, a public spectacle, fuming.

The girls were delighted.

When Corey's neck and right wrist were once more shackled to the coffle and the march resumed she was teased unmercifully. She did not mind. She detected in the comments a hint of envy. She wore her fresh weals, particularly the scarlet stripes across her breasts, with immense elan. She wondered at herself and at the man who owned them all. Could she say she was broken, that the coffle and the whip had made her subservient? Or was it her own shameless lust that made his whip a benison upon her flesh? She was wanton, reveling in the memory of being tied to the tree and then, afterwards, ravished again and again in a series of couplings in which she used her bound hands and thrusting body in taunting provocations to replenish her Master's virility. In loving abandon she regaled the man who had whipped her with every trick and variation of the practiced whore. In so doing she defeated not him but herself by erasing from her mind all thought of liberty. Seth Burdett remained his own man, but Corey Gibson was most certainly a woman!

It happened on the day before they should have reached Ben Sirah. The uniformed men rose from concealment, three to each side of the coffle of girls. Rifles pointed.

"Is nice we meet again." Corporal Eliah was one big grin.

"What the hell do you want, Eliah?" Seth demanded without concern for pointing muzzles. "You'll get your cut…!"

The corporal raised a placating hand. "Mr. Burdett… please!" He managed to sound reprovingly shocked. "We do not steal. We arrest."

"Try and arrest me and I'll break all your bloody necks!"

"Is not you, Mr. Burdett. Please, no! Is bad young lady escape from custody. You are most respected, sir. No doubt she tell a story of bull and cock for getting your sympathy. I am seeing her now. She is there on coffle with slavegirls."

"You talking about Audrey Cotswold?"

"Indeed yes. Most guilty young lady."

Corey cringed in the impotence of chains. The shackle and collar removed her from the affairs of men. She could do nothing.

"Damnit, Aliah, don't mess up a good deal. You know the drill. She'll be sold inside a week." Burdett was puzzled.

"Alas, this is not business, effendi. It is the Law."

"Fuck the Law!"

"We must take young Lady. I have warrant." The corporal unfolded a well decorated document. He read with relish: "Conspiracy to defraud. Escape from custody. Naked in public place. Immorality. Prostitution. Perjury…"

"Stow it, Eliah. It's all horseshit, and we both know it. But you take that girl… I'll make trouble!"

"Court have no quarrel with honest Slave Trader, Mr. Burdett. We arrest girls… such bad and naughty girls! You carry on with coffle, Mr. Burdett, sir."

"What d'you mean, girls? There's only one of her?"

"Regrettably, is two." Corporal Eliah pointed at Corey Gibson. "She whore from Amphala. Also suspicion of fraud. Must be tried and sentenced to much prison."

"Up your arse!" Burdett was nonplussed.

"Whit possible whippings." The corporal added pompously. "Our esteemed magistrate Mussuba not approve bad girls."

"You take Corey Gibson and I'll have all your hides."

"Please, most honourable sir, do not make distress. We now arrest. When you arrive Ben Sirah you most welcome to visit their cell in police station. Can arrange nice fuck if you so like…? We very modern."

"Police station! Though you said prison?"

"Must have proper trial. Then sentenced to punishings. They stay police station a few days so we all get good fucks." The corporal beamed importantly. "Is police perquisite, to fuck."

"Yeah, and more than girls. Look, Eliah, how about I arrange bail?" "For such crimes is no bail. But you come visit. Police think Mr. Burdett is fine sir."

"Damnit, corporal, there has to be a way…! How about you taking four of the other girls? You cab screw 'em for a week and then sell 'em. Two for one's a good deal?"

"But is not white girl." The corporal shrugged. "Can arrest local girls anytime. We fuck a little then let go."

With grim ste lips, Seth Burdett unlocked the two white girls from the coffle. Their shackles hung slack and empty and forlorn. "You heard the silly twit. He's got six guns. When I get the coffle into Ben Sirah I'll raise bloody hell. I've got friends. If that's not good enough I'll wire New York for you."

"You could have done that in the first place." Audrey said tartly. "Shit, I wanted to sell you first, girl! I need the money." Corey Gibson was shattered, bereft, and furiously angry. "You mean this… this fuzzy wuzzy can actually…?"

Seth patted his gun. "I might get two of them before they got me. Then you're friendless. But with me alive you're going to come through this… some way… I guarantee!"

She believed him. There was that in his voice which evoked her fire. With a greater faith than Audrey's, she surrendered her nakedness to the familiar turning of her back and the limp proffering of her wrists, on which the corporal's handcuffs clicked with a sound of minor doom. Reluctantly, Audrey did the same.

"Is jeep behind bush." Pronounced the corporal importantly.

The man and his slave said a farewell with their eyes. Audrey stalked ahead disdainfully, furous at an unkind Fate, her wrists tugging irritably at the shaming metal bands. Corey followed, the corporal's hand, not unkindly, on her arm. "Is very nice cell." He explained encouragingly.

"Is bars all round so everyone can see. You feel nice at home."

Corey supposed he meant well. She tried not to cry.

The jeep was actually there. The two girls were lifted into the back. More handcuffs were produced. The armed detachment beamed approval. "We're already handcuffed. We don't need any more." Audrey's protest was bitter. She knew where she was going.

"Is best we join you. That way is hard to run." The corporal was anxious for good intentions to be understood.

The girls were side by side. It was neat and tidy to clip a cuff above Audrey's right elbow, with the matching steel circlet notched on Corey's left. Where one went the other must go too. Another pair of handcuffs similary joined two ankles. "Why not our necks too?" Audrey demanded belligerently.

"Alas, we have no chain." Corporal Eliah was genuinely apologetic. "But at police station we can arrange."

Submerged beneath a load of policemen, rifles and naked girls in chains, the jeep fought its way to the path. It was not a pleasant journey. Four pairs of handcuffs mocke the female prisoners all the way to Ben Sirah.

"The son-of-a-bitch! He's actually managed…!" Audrey stared incredulously at the four foot chain linking their necks. Her fingers were busily exploring the band of metal which was her new collar. "There's more to that damn corporal than meets the eye."

Corey was a welter of sensation. Audrey had been here before, but she had not. The cage-like cell in which they were safely locked was daunting. So were these eyes… It seemed there were always eyes peering at them through the bars. "The bastard sells tickets so the wogs can look at our cunts." Audrey Cotswold averred disgustedly.

They had lost the battle of nakedness. The corporal's apology had, as usual, been most sincere. "Is prescribed tunic for female prisoners." He explained. "But is now all at laundry. You not mind nice policemen look at cunts and boobs?"

Corey was testing her own metal. Her collar was heavier than any she had previously been forced to wear. "Is prison issue." The corporal had informed wirt pride. "Is specially made for very bad girls."