Alrik was a trader, a bounty hunter, or a smuggler, depending on who you asked. In any case, his Hermes IV, which he had named Iris, was fast, light, with a surprisingly good defensive system, and a top-of-the-line stealth system bought from a rather shady dealer. He had a small crew: a pilot, an engineer, and a couple of good fighters. Horst was a clever pilot, performing twisting (and uncomfortable) maneuvers that had thus far ensured none of the more destructive missiles fired at them had ever reached their mark. Chantal was a well-educated engineer, and had studied all the latest methods at the prestigious Vega University. Bernardette had the eyes of a hawk and was an expert with guns, whether hand-held or attached to the ship, had some basic first aid skills, and a special hobby for bow and arrow and thrown knives. Raymond, formerly a bouncer, was short, heavyset, and had won many a fight because his opponents lost their nerves before even starting.

It was not a slave ship. Sure, Alrik took the occasional bounty to capture a runaway slave, but only if the slave was clever enough to be worth a high bounty and the owner rich enough to pay it. However, he owned no slaves of his own. He preferred the challenge of wooing a free woman, and had no interest in trying to suppress revolts of male slaves meant for heavy labor, or for that matter for having a bunch of weeping women slaves in his cargo bay waiting to be sold on the auction block.

After selling off his inventory of methadone ore, Alrik was talking to Rambert, a ship and spare parts dealer. Chantal had told him their engine was burned out from their run with those Hawk Clan raiders. Alrik brought the error messages and a recording of the groaning sound the fusion engine made when he tried to start it.

"Well, what do you think: is there no way to avoid buying a whole new engine?"

"None at all, I am afraid. However, this is an excellent opportunity for you to consider an upgrade. The Prometheus 2401 is much more powerful than your old Prometheus 2325. You will go from cold engine to darting through the skies much faster!"

From behind Alrik, off to the left, a female voice cried, full of distain,  "Believe me, you don't need a whole new engine. A new dyner coil or two should do it. And you don't want the 2401: the manuals are full of mistakes and omissions and hardly any replacement parts for it are for on the market." There was the sound like slapping and another, deeper, voice said, "Shut up, you little tratsch."

"How much?" asked Alrik, ignoring the the voice.

"A mere 5 million drackels!"

"Give me some time to think about it."

"Of course. You know where to find me. When you are ready, you will not regret your purchase."

Alrik waited for Rambert to walk away, the slow, dragging walk of one who is out of shape. Then he turned around to look for the owner of the female voice.

Both sides of the street were lined with female slave after female slave, spread-eagled, shaven crotches, for examination by potential buyers. Ones who were virgins, ones who were certified as never having been used for prostitution, and the ones who had not received genetic immunization were protected by thin, metal chastity belts and enough of a gag that even should a man climb up, he could not penetrate her mouth. The ones beautiful enough that merchants had invested in genetic immunization, and who were not virgins or certified never-prostitutes, were left fully exposed so that buyers could sample the wares. Many poor men who could not afford to buy a slave or rent a prostitute took advantage of this to get a quick orgasm.

Guards strolled casually along, making sure the wares were not damaged. At sunset, they would unlock the arm spreader bars from the hooks holding them up, allowing the unfortunate women to sit or lie down, and pass out soup and blankets. If any of them struggled, the arm spreader bar could be strapped to the slaves's ankles with rope. Potential customers were still free to check out the slaves at night, but most didn't. In the morning, the guards would pass out oatmeal, take away the blankets, grab each female slave's arm spreader bar and reattach it to the hook, forcing them to stand up, and give each slave a good hosing down.

The voice came again, thick with sarcasm, "So what is it: 500 drackals for a couple of dyner coils, or 5 million drackals for a whole new engine that will be much harder to repair?" It was from a slave with long black hair but surprisingly pale, almost ivory skin. Most of the front side of her could not be seen, for a rather overweight, tall man dressed in purple was busily thrusting his manhood in and out of her. "That's enough!" he said, slapped her across the face, and pulled out short, thin chain with clamps on each end out of his right pocket. Alrik could not see what he did, but it is safe to assume he attached one clamp to each of her breasts. She did not cry out, unlike other slave women Alrik had seen this done to. She simply kept staring at him, as if daring him to argue with her. Then the man pulled up on the middle of the chain. This forced the slave to stand on her tip toes and tilt her head toward the sky, but still she was silent. The man then continued working toward his orgasm, all the while moving his hands over every part of her body he could reach.

Alrik pretended to be interested in the other slaves until the man in purple cried out in joy, closed up his pants, and left. Alrik then slowly walked over to her, and stopped close enough to her that they would not likely be interrupted, but not close enough that he touched her.

He looked at the card displaying basic information about her. This was her seventh day on display. She would be auctioned off on the tenth. Only the highest value slaves were displayed for that long: a minimum of seven, to ensure all the rich buyers and a chance to look, plus a few more to ensure the sale occurred on a Saturday, the day of the biggest auction. She had received genetic modifications for complete immunization (not only from sexual diseases), immortality (she could still be killed, but she would not age and injuries would heal relatively quickly), and no accidental pregnancy (her ability to conceive could be easily turned on and off with a simple shot). Perfect for a former prostitute. However, she was most likely being sold because in the five years her former master, the owner of a high end brothel, had owned her, bounty hunters had been sent to retrieve her three times. Alrik could only assume the reason for the lack of scarring from the punishment she must have received was the immortality modification. Nevertheless, she was sure to fetch a high price anyway. Many slave owners enjoyed a challenge, or assumed that it wouldn't happen to them.

Alrik looked at her face. He saw her breasts - somewhat on the large size for a woman her size - out of his peripheral vision, but out of respect, resisted the urge to stare at them directly. Had her ankles not been chained to metal brackets on either side, 3' apart, she would have been nearly as tall as he was, and he was 5'7". As it was, he had to look down at her. Her eyes were a lovely violet, but dull with bags underneath, as one who is exhausted. Were she happier and energetic, they probably would have been stunning. She smirked up at him and said, "If you don't want to waste your money, you'll get the dyner coils, master."

"Why are you telling me this?" Alrik said, his voice flat and his face stern.

"I hate Rambert, master."

"Why?"

"None of your business, master."

"Really?" According to custom, Alrik had every reason to slap her. First she admits to hating a master, and then she refuses to answer his question. But Alrik was secretly fond of her. Were she a free woman, he would have asked her out to dinner. As it was, he simply raised an eyebrow.

"If you know so much about engines, show me," said Alrik, leaning so far toward the slave she had to pull her had back to keep from touching him. She lost her balance and was held up only by the 3' spreader bar holding her wrists.

"You can afford a deposit on me, master?"

"Yes. Will you come?"

"NO! I cum for no man! Find a woman who has a choice to have sex with you or not!" She suddenly started struggling against her chains, hard enough that her wrists and ankles would surely bruise. Actually, looking at them, Alrik realized they already were bruised.

He pressed himself toward her enough that her legs and no room to struggle, and grabbed below both her wrists, trying to hold her still.

His face was now close enough to hers that he could have kissed her. "Stop it! You're hurting yourself! That's where you get bruises from!"

"Master, that's not where the bruises between my legs are from, or the ones on my ass and breasts, or the ones on my throat."

"Look, I'm not asking you to orgasm for me. I'm asking you to come back to my spaceship and have a look at my engine."

"Then let go of me, master. And stop pressing your leg into my crotch!"

"Will you stop struggling?"

"Master, let go of me!"

"Calm down. You're hurting yourself."

"Let go, master!"

"Not until you agree to stop struggling."

"Yes, master. I'll stop for the moment."

Alrik slowly let go and waited for the slave to catch her breath. She was surprised. In all the time she had been a slave, no free person had ever let go of her or stopped touching her because she asked them to. She was generally punished in one way or another for daring to ask. Finally, she looked up at Alrik with curiosity.

"Will you come to my ship and see if you can fix my engine?" he asked.

"You are asking me, master?"

"What do you want me to do? Drag you by a leash attach not only to your collar but also to clamps on your nipples and leave a ginger dildo in you until you agree to do as I ask?"

"No, master!"

"Will you agree to come to my ship?"

"Very well, master, but no nipple clamps and NO ginger dildo!"

Alrik called over one of the guards and negotiated a deposit of 600,000 drackals to ensure he would return the merchandise. The guard gave Alrik a bag full of restraints, warning him that the slave was likely to try to run, and came over to unlock the chains she was being displayed in. The guard let go of her right ankle first. She tried to kick the guard but Alrik held her ankle. He held a hobble, which had two thick steel locking anklets with a thick steel chain between them. The chain was about a foot and a half long.

"Master, No hobble!"

"I'm taking you to my ship, not giving you a chance to run away. Stay calm."

"No master!"

"Stop struggling. You're bruised enough as it is."

She didn't, but he got the anklet locked in place anyway. It was a thick, circular strip of metal, designed to be hard to cut through,

weigh the wearer down, and quite uncomfortable. Alrik pulled the leg closer to the one still attached to the display block, the guard unlocked her left ankle, and Alrik quickly locked in with the other anklet of the hobble, in spite of the slave's resistance.

At this point, Alrik was concerned he would need to use a leash. However, the wretched slave's neck was already bruised up, no doubt

from her masters pulling hard on leashes before. He locked chain snugly around the smallest portion of her curved waist. As he was doing so, it was sadly apparent to him she had not been fed well for quite some time.  Her rib cage was sticking out a bit. He locked another chain both to her heavy steal collar and to the steel chain now around her waist. If he had to pull her by this, it would at least put less force on her neck. She squirmed all while he did this, but still being locked by the spreader bar to the hook above her, this did not help.

The guard let her right wrist go, and Alrik quickly locked it in a heavy steel manacle. This manacle was attached by a thick, heavy chain about 4 inches long to a second manacle. Alrik forced her right wrist close to her left wrist, and finally, the guard let her left wrist go and Alrick locked it into the other manacle, the slave struggling the whole time. The guard left them alone. Alrik grabbed the slave's forearms to try to stop her from further bruising her wrists.

"I thought you agreed to come to my ship?" he said, gentleness and confusion in his voice.

"I'm not merchandise!"

"Well, actually, you are," ignoring as always her breach in protocol of failing to call him, a free person, master. It was not a custom Alrik much cared for, and if the woman did not say "master" each and every time she smoke to him, he was not going to say anything about it. Many others would have, as a minimum, slapped her for that alone. Actually, the mildly distainful tone this slave used for the word "master" was far preferable to Alrik than the usual respectful tone he heard from sex slaves, most of whom seemed so broken that he didn't expect they were ever honest about their feelings except when screaming in pain.

"That's all you think of me as, master!"

"I'm sure many have thought of you as much worse than that."

"Then you admit it, master!"

"I didn't say that! Look, what's your name?"

"I don't have one, master. People generally call me Tratsch, Trix, or Dawlie." (Dear reader, "tratsch" is this story is basically an insult somewhere between "bitch" and "slut", "trix" roughly means "whore", and "dawlie" is a demeaning word for a female sex slave.")

"Then I will call you Artemis. In ancient mythology, she was a goddess of the Earth moon."

"Master, I'm no goddess."

"Would you rather I call you that or Dawlie?"

The woman looked away.

"Do you want to help me with my engine, or are you going to fight me every step of the way."

She looked up at him. "I'll help, master."

"And when you are done, you will let me bring you back here to the display block and you will let the guard chain you up again without any more resistance?"

"No master."

"Then you can go back on display now."

"No! Master! No!"

"Then promise."

"Very well, master."

"What do you promise?"

"Master, I'll do my best to help you fix your engine, and when that is done, I will come back here and let the guard chain me up again, and from now until then, I won't resist as long as you don't hurt me much."

"Come this way, then, Artemis." Alrik gently put right arm around her shoulders and held her left upper arm with his left hand to guide her.

"Master, please don't touch me like that," Artemis plead. (It is worth noting that at this point on, Alrik began to notice a change in the slave's tone of the word "master". Rather than being particularly distainful as before, or respectful like that of other sex slaves, they seemed to generally adopt the tone of whatever sentence they were in.)

"I don't want to pull by your leash if I can avoid it. Your neck is too bruised as it is."

"Master, I won't run away until you have your deposit back."

"Forgive me if I still don't trust you."

"Then attach another chain to my wrist chain and pull me by that, master."

Altrik sighed but did as she asked, attaching a short, two foot chain with a leather loop on the end to the chain between her manacles.

"Come now, Artemis, walk next to me. Better."

"At least I'm 600,000 drackal merchandise," Artemis commented, more to herself than to Alrik.

"You are also a very intelligent woman, if you can fix my engine."

Male passerbys stared at Artemis. Why not? Lovely shape, muscular ass, lovely breasts, visible crotch. Her face was lovely too, with large lips, large eyes, and a well-defined nose, but few paid attention to those details.

One passerby briefly groped her crotch with one hand and her ass with his other hand. Artemis pulled closer to Alrik.

"Have you had a change of heart?" he asked.

"Don't take it personally, master. Someone just groped my crotch and ass."

With Artemis at his right, Alrik let go of the manacle chain, held her upper left arm with his left hand, slipped his right arm around her waist, and began to gently stroke her belly. Artemis was less than happy about this, but said nothing, as she hoped he would at least be able to protect her from being groped by more passerbys.

"Haven't men been groping you, having sex with you, and slapping you for six or seven days now?" Alrik asked.

"Master, I would a break."

Men still stared, but after a time, Artemis pointed out a dealer who had cheap dyner coils.

"Those are used. They probably aren't any good," Alrik commented.

"Master, people often throw out perfectly good parts because they replace engines that could be repaired. I can examine them, master."

Alrik lead her over. "Master, you have a standard engine repair kit?" Artemis asked the dealer. He looked at Alrik, unused to being addressed by slaves, especially female slaves as beautiful as Artemis.

"Well, do you?" Alrik asked.

"Yes, of course," replied the dealer.

"Well, give it to my slave here so she can examine your dyner coils."

"Master, will you please remove these manacles?" asked Artemis.

"No." replied Alrik.

"This will take much longer with so little mobility, master."

"So be it."

Artemis went through the twelve dyner coils carefully, obviously struggling with having to perform so many delicate, complicated tasks without being able to move her wrists more than four inches apart. Four dyner coils were set aside in less than a minute. Five received a detailed exam. Eventually, she selected the best two. Alrik paid only 200 drackals.

Alrik took Artemis back to his ship and into the engine room, and handed her a standard engine repair kit. This took much longer than it would have taken if Artemis were unhobbled.

"Master, your engineer doesn't have any extra tools he likes to keep in addition to the standard ones?" inquired Artemis.

"No, she doesn't," replied Alrik.

"I see, master. Will you remove these manacles now?"

"Sorry, I still don't trust you."

"A longer chain, perhaps, master?"

"No. In fact," he paused and pulled out a heavy ball and chain from the bag the guard had given him, "I think I should chain this to your hobble to make sure you can't run away too easily."

"Why? Master, you are here, guarding me, anyway."

"I'd rather restrain you than fight you. Now, please, stand still."

Remembering her promise not to resist unless he hurt her too much, at least until he got his deposit back, Artemis did has instructed.

However, between the heaviness of the ball, and her weakness from having been fed so meagerly in the recent past, it took her quite some time to make it to where the dyner coils were, and she quite forgot to bring the equipment, but Alrik brought it over for her.

Once there, however, it took her all of five minutes to confirm her diagnosis that the dyner coils were indeed the problem.

"Two of these dyner coils are damaged. One will have to be replaced. The other needs only a couple new fuses and a few new wires."

Alrik enjoyed watching her work. While focusing on the engineering, the look of pain, humiliation, with a resolute determination disappeared from her face. Aside from the nudity, chains, and bruising, she looked like a beautiful, intelligent, freewoman: one that he could fall in love with. The look of pain and humiliation briefly interfered when the manacle's got in the slave's way, and Alrik was tempted to remove them, but she usually figured out how to maneuver in spite of the manacles, and when she couldn't, she would ask Alrik to pull this or press that, and soon the pain and humiliation would again disappear from her face.

Unfortunately for Alrik, it only took Artemis 15 minutes. Even restrained by manacles, her hands were skilled, as he saw. When she was done, and the engine had been tested to Alrik's satisfaction, she remember the brand and tattoos a little below her left hip, the collar around her neck, the chains she was held with, and the fact that she would spend most of the next three days being gawked at, groped, and raped by many strangers, and at the end of that time, she would be auctioned off to a rich, probably sadistic, as likely ugly as not, new master who would rent her as a trix or use her as some other sort of dawlie. She could try to run away again, but in all likelihood, she would spend the rest of her life - which could easily be hundreds of Earth years (she was already 656 Earth standard years) - being raped, violated, tortured, and humiliated. Sure, she occasionally managed to sneak a peak at books, get her hands on gadgets, and get a brief assignment not related to sex and humiliation - that was how she knew so much about engines - but her masters rarely lost interest for long, and when they did, she was soon sold.

Alrik saw the look of pain, humiliation, and resolute determination return to the female slave's face. If he had seen pain, humiliation, and fear on her face instead, as he was accustomed to seeing on the faces of most female sex slaves (even if they smiled and pretended to be happy, he could still tell, upon close examination), and which he couldn't stand to look at for long, he would not have done what he did next.

"Artemis, how would you feel about being my new engineer?"

"Would you also want me to be your trix or dawlie, master?"

"No. I want a girlfriend, not a dawlie, and I don't want to be a pimp."

"Pimp is an ancient word," Artemis paused, remembering stories she had heard as a child about the time before slavery was legalized.

"How would I be punished when I didn't do as you wanted, master?"

"Do I seem to you like the sort of man to punish slaves frivolously?"

"Many of my former master's used disobedience or failure as an excuse to fulfill their sadistic fantasies, master."

"I'm sure they loved you, then. You must have given them plenty of excuses. It's a surprise those ones ever sold you."

"They want mild or even moderate resistance, not runners they have to call the bounty hunters on, master."

"Do I seem sadistic to you?"

"What will you do to me if I run away, master?"

"I won't buy you unless you promise not to."

"I can't make that promise, master. Firstly, even if I made such a promise based on the assumption that you would treat me gently, what if you became cruel? Secondly, I don't just want a life a slavery with a gentle master. I want freedom. Running from a gentle master who had paid a great deal of drackals for me would feel somehow less than right. But if I run from a cruel master, at least I have some hope of success. Very little hope, but enough to hang on to."

"Even if you make it to one of the so-called slave-free worlds, they still have mutual recognition treaties. Sure, they'll try to stop the bounty hunters from leaving their port cities. They will fail. And once the bounty hunter has you collared and restrained, the mutual recognition treaty becomes effective in your case, and the planet's authorities have no say in the matter, other than to enforce their slave welfare laws, which might briefly protect you from being beaten or dragged out in public nude, if you are very lucky. Of course, once the bounty hunter leaves orbit with you, the slave welfare laws are no longer applicable."

"But I can try, master. I can try to free myself of my chains, don a disguise, and steal a fast spaceship. I can try to outrun the bounty hunters to a slave-free world. I can leave the port city at once and find a place to hide. If I'm found, I can try to fight and find somewhere else to hide."

"Sure. You can try. But here is a better idea. You agree to be my slave. I bid for you, and if I win, you be my engineer. I'll give you the same percent I give my current engineer: 10% of every mission. I'll charge you 10% interest per year, compounded monthly. Of course, I'll have to charge you for living expenses, any possessions you might want to have for yourself, and the time I spend restraining and disciplining you."

"10% interest per year, master? How about 7%?"

"9%."

"8%, master."

"Done."

"What is this discipline you speak of, master?"

"Relax. Scolding you for bruising yourself is a form of discipline. I'm not cruel."

"Master, are you actually going to time how long you spend scolding me?"

"No, but if it becomes too much of a burden, I'll have to bill you for it."

"Master, why not keep a freewoman engineer and not bother?"

"Because you are better. Because she would have had me replacing the whole engine, and I don't have 5 million drackals."

"Do you expect me to do all my work chained up like this, master?"

"I hope to build trust with you, so that I can at least reduce your bondage when we are up in space. When we are on the ground, you will be locked in the brig, chained because I don't know how good a lockpick you are, or else supervised and chained, like you are now. And believe me: if we ever go to a slave free planet, the chains will be much more stringent, and if we don't need you in the engine room, you won't be able to move much aside from a little squirming."

"If I have sex with you, will you pay me for it, master?"

"Like I said, I want a girlfriend, not a trix. And if you agree to engage in sexual activity with anyone else, I'm selling you, you understand? If you want to have sexual relations with me because you like me, that's great. If you don't, I'm glad you know how to say no, because I'm likely to come on to you.

"Do I have to be chained if we have sex, master?"

"If you want to take advantage of me falling asleep after sex, then: yes, you will have to be restrained at least a little during sex so you don't take advantage of the situation, and more tightly when we are done so you don't run away after I fall asleep. Sorry, but that's how it will be, if you agree to have sex with me."

"Master, what will you do if I change my mind and run away?"

"I'll hunt you down, capture you, and if you don't have a really good explanation, stick ginger dildos in your vagina and asshole, whip your breasts, ass, and crotch, and leave you chained in strappado and other uncomfortable positions until I get you to market so I can sell you."

"Others have done worse, master. What will you do if I pay off my debt?"

"Then you will be free. I'll give you your papers. You will be welcome to work for me, or not work for me, and to date me, or date someone else, or date no one at all."

"Very well, I agree, master."

"Before I buy you, I'll need to examine you. If you resist or tell me to stop, I won't buy you. You must do exactly as I say."

"Get on with it then, master."

"No, first, we go to the brig."

He took her there, and locked the door behind them, setting it so he could get out by entering a passcode.

"I am going to unchain you now. You must not run away or make any sudden movements," Alrik told the woman. He did, and it was the first time Artemis stood without chains or ropes or other bondage (collar excluded) since the last time she picked the locks on her chains and ran away.

"I need you to stand with your feet about two feet apart. No, three feet. Good. Now, put your arms up and your hands on the top of your head. There. Try not to move unless I tell you to or gesture you to do so."

In all fairness to Alrik, he really did mean only to assess her physical health - the strength of her muscles, just how malnourished she was, the extent of the bruising, and any other possible abnormalities - and generally to estimate her fair market value. But he was attracted to her. She was intelligent, strong-willed, and beautiful. If she were free, he might already be planning a proposal. As it was, she was a slave presently under his control, she was naked in front of him with her legs spread wide, and by agreeing to the examination, she had essentially agreed to groping. We must accept that if he did more than was proper, it was only human for a man in his position to do such a thing.

He began by looking into her eyes, those dull, violet eyes that could be so much more if she were better treated. He brushed her lovely straight black hair out of her face behind her ears. He stroked her cheek, remembered this was an examination, and felt her bone structure. Her cheeks were well defined. He opened her mouth, pointed a tiny flashlight inside, and turned her head to different angles so he could get a better look. The slightly large, but only enough that it made her lips appear fuller. In fact, now that he looked more closely, the lips were slightly swollen, probably from oral sex. As for the condition inside, he supposed it was only natural given that she'd been on display for six or seven days, and that once he bought her, she would soon have clean, white teeth again.

The bruising round her neck, presumably from her collar being yanked on leashes by her masters, guards, and interested customers, was worse than he had thought it was. There was even some swelling. Mostly purple with some areas of yellowish green, it was obvious her neck had been yanked at from multiple angles, as the bruising was wider than the collar. He pulled her arms down, gently adjusted the collar, and walked all around her to get a better look. She flinched slightly when he touched it. This was obviously more bruising than one would ordinarily get from leading a slave on a leash, even a defiant one such as Artemis.

"How did this happen to your neck?" Alrik asked, sympathetic.

"Masters used leashes on me, master."

"That," stated Alrik, "is obvious. What else?"

"There were a few masters who pulled on the leashes faster than I could run, at least in whatever bondage I was in, my master."

"I'm not your master yet. The name's Alrik."

"Master Alrik, when they did this, I often fell down, with the masters still yanking on my leash. And you do know the hook my spreader bar was attached to above the display block can be lowered, should a master wish to try me for oral sex. Sometimes, they use a leash to position my head the way they want it. Sometimes, they yank hard on that leash, master."

Alrik really was growing quite fond of Artemis. It was difficult for him to see and hear this. A part of him began to feel a little angry at the people cruel enough to do this for her. But he quickly suppressed that anger. Treating slaves cruelly was not only the social norm, it was encouraged, lest the slaves grow disrespectful. The masters had a right to do this to her. If he didn't like it, well, it was on him to buy and protect her.

Alrik went on to examine her excessively thin, obviously undernourished shoulders and arms. The smoothness of her pale skin, which Alrik took too much pleasure in stroking, was interrupted by chain indentations just below her elbows, from elbow bondage, no doubt.

The wrists were severely damaged, although not so much as the neck. The bruising was extensive, though. Artemis obviously didn't like being chained. Alrik considered using softer bondage after he bought her, perhaps cloth, silk rope, or something padded. No, this one had a history of running away, and steel isn't something easy to cut through, and a little careful positioning can generally make it near impossible for the slave to pick the locks on her chains. Perhaps, when they were flying in space. The escape pods could be easily configured to not take her commands, and she did not seem like the sort to throw herself out an airlock. Perhaps, when they were flying in space and he was supervising her anyway, a softer bondage would be useful occasionally.

"You should really try not to struggle against chains to the point of bruising yourself."

"Master, what dignity would I have if I behaved like a perfect little tratsch?"

"Haven't men bruised your neck enough without you doing this to yourself?"

"Master, if you do not want me to struggle against your bondage, then do not restrain me."

"How can you ask me not to chain you up when you have such a long history of being a runner!?"

"How can you expect me to be a willing little dawlie just because you give money to people I hate!? Master, you must accept that slavery damages the enslaved, and if you wish to keep a slave woman, you will have to damage her."

This actually gave Alrik a pang of guilt. He had been wishing that she was a freewoman, that he could court her as such, that he could fall in love with her and her with him, and not have to deal with any of this slavery business. But he also did not have the kind of money that he could use to just free a nearly top-of-the line (aside from the whole defiance thing) female sex slave just because he was a bit fond of her.

"You know what sorts of buyers are going to be bidding on you in three days time. You know what they will do to you if I don't buy you."

The slave broke her gaze with him. He was right, of course. Her alternatives were worse. That is why she agreed to this.

He lifted her chin. "Look at me, Artemis," he said, gently, and waited for her to lift her eyes to meet his.

"Master, I am sorry, master. Master, please buy this slave in spite of her faults, master. Master, thank you, master."

"What, you are following Dorian slave protocol now?" asked Alrik, more amused than anything else, and let go of her chin.

Her fingers were long and slender, but the palms of her hands were covered in dried blood. It appeared she had been digging her nails into her palms hard enough to draw blood. He remembered that she had not cried out when the man had put clamps on her nipples and yanked on them. Perhaps this was what she did instead when she was in pain. If he ever had to punish her painfully, he would have to do something to prevent this.

He moved her hands back to the top of her head and told her to keep them there.

Going down, her breasts were surrounded with a sort of abrasion indicating breast bondage. It went behind her back, too. The damage from nipple clamps was relatively minor, but the breasts were bruised. She'd obviously been beaten. He went on to check for any unusual lumps. Were it not for the damage, she probably would not have flinched and squirmed so much at this point, and Alrik probably would have enjoyed it more.

He did, however, immensely enjoy stroking her waist and belly, entirely too much in fact. Sure, she was underfed, but the skin was so smooth, and although she did not seem entirely happy about this and squirmed a little, she did not seem to be in pain and did not flinch. Slowly, slowly, slowly, he worked his way down to her crotch. He would have been unable to resist having far to much fun here, had she not, when he pressed up against the area with his hand, flinched and lost her balance. This area was bruised too, unfortunately.

Alrik caught her, gave her a moment, and repositioned her. He noticed the blood was flowing from her palms again.

The slaves ass had obviously been treated worse than her breasts. They were badly bruised, and a few welts were visible. The welts shouldn't have happened while she was on display, but the guards didn't catch everything. Underneath the damage, however, it was obviously a very muscular, well shaped ass.

Alrik continued down her legs. They were not so skinny as her arms, but feeling them, he realized there was little if any fat: it was nearly all muscle. The inside of the thighs was extensively bruised, no doubt from men pressing between her legs for forced sex. On her left leg, a little below the hip, was a brand. It was a very old brand. Alrik guessed that Artemis was among the first generation of slaves to be captured. The more modern slave ID tattoo was beneath this, and beneath that, a few warning warning tattoos. For example, a tally of how many times she'd run and a bounty hunter had to be called. Twelve or more. The tattoo makers had decided it was pointless to tally beyond twelve. Great. The ankles were about as damaged as the wrists. Other than that, the legs were quite pleasant to gaze upon and feel.

All in all, this added up to quite a bit more physical damage than Alrik had noticed before the examination. However, thanks to that immortality modification, she would heal much more quickly than an ordinary slave. He estimated it would take a week after he bought her, at most.

Alrik knew it was nearly time to take her back to the display block. "Up against the wall," he ordered. He pulled her arms behind her back and pulled her elbows together. She resisted slightly, and he pressed her harder against the wall to stop her. He locked a short metal chain around to keep her elbows tightly pressed against each other. He then locked another short metal chain around her wrists to keep those together.

"On the floor, face down," he barked the next order. She was rather graceful about it. She'd obviously had to sit down / lie down before with the use of her arms. However, with her breasts pushed forward so far from the elbow bondage and her back subsequently arched, her head never made it to the floor.

The hobble came next, only this time, Alrik shortened the hobble to only one foot long. Better to get back more slowly than to risk a runaway situation.

He then ordered her to kneel, facing him, lower legs flat against the floor, thighs upright, legs spread as much as the hobble would allow so he could see her crotch. He made the same pattern of chains connecting her waist to her collar as before, but hoping even more this time he would not be compelled to pull her by it.

Artemis's compliance was not without hesitation. The examination she had received, the use of elbow bondage which pushed her breasts forward, and the order than she kneel with her legs open while Alrik added more chains, not to mention the tendency of his eyes to roam occasionally, all made her quite certain that he wanted her sexually, not just as an engineer.

She was no fool, though. She had been a slave for 635 years. Before her enslavement, she enjoyed Stoic philosophy. She had childhood onset leukemia. Rather than taking the pain medications given as charity to the poor, she learned to live with the pain, in spite of it, in accordance to Stoic philosophy, and had a successful enough career that she was able to pay for the gene therapy needed for proper treatment of leukemia when she was 19. Her slaver did not know this about her. He only knew that she could never be completely broken like the others, but because of her beauty and the genetic treatments he had invested in her, she still turned him a good profit when he sold her. Over the centuries, she had frustrated many masters with her defiance. She was not afraid of pain, as what was important to her was honor, dignity, and hope, and she felt she had to struggle some to hold on to a bit of those. Nor was she afraid of being killed by an angry master: she had lived long enough already, and death would one form of escape. Still, given a choice, she would prefer a gentler master to a crueler one. Alrik was not all she hoped for, but he was better than she'd had in over 500 years, so, hoping to be bought, she resolved to tolerate his flaws, for now.

Alrik pulled the slave up by her upper left arm, fast enough that her body briefly twisted such that her breasts and head pointed up a bit more. Keeping his left hand firmly around her upper left arm, he put his right arm behind her and reached around to her belly, and, holding her at his right and stroking her belly, took her back to the slave market, back to the display block, where he helped the guard set the merchandise spread-eagled on display again, with much less resistance than when he had taken her down.

Artemis spent the next three days being poked, prodded, groped, penetrated, slapped, and occasionally beaten or yanked, by a wide variety of strange men.

A bit before midday on her final day, two guards came to get her. Usually, only one guard came, but she was a known troublemaker.

"Well, what do you think we should do: force her to walk to the holding line, or carry her there?" asked the taller one.

"Force her to walk. No sense doing all the hard work for her. She kicked me, once, and I'd like to force her to follow me on a leash to show her her place," said the shorter one.

"She feels so good to hold, though."

"Perhaps we can both get what we want. I'll pull her along hard on a leash, you spank her ass to help her keep up, and whenever she falls, you get to touch her as much as you like until she gets up again. Deal?"

"Sure."

The shorter guard secured a 3-ft chain with a leather handle to the unfortunate wretch's collar. She squirmed around to try to make it harder for him to get the chain link into the collar's front attachment point, but the taller guard grabbed her from behind, reaching across her breasts to her shoulder with one arm, and around her hip to her crotch with the other. He held her still and played with her clitoris and vagina with his fingers. Leash secured, the taller guard moved to the front, again played with her crotch with one hand, but this time used his other to force her head forward and down. The shorter guard used this opportunity to attach a three-inch chain with a manacle on either end to the back attachment point of the dawlie's collar.

In 635 years of slavery, Artemis had never truly become used to the humiliation of being used for sex. If anything, it had become worse.

This was not uncommon. Of the elder slaves, many who had been easily broken when they were younger became more defiant, in one way or another, in their age. No doubt, she was several centuries this man's elder. If he had never had enough money to afford the immortality genetic modification, that made her over 600 years his senior, and her he was, using her, and all she could do was either squirm or try to stay still. Besides, after 635 years of being used for sex, it wasn't just painful and humiliating: it was downright boring. She wanted to read the latest scientific findings and engineering manuals, see the stars, the nebulae, and all the most beautiful planets, not spend centuries upon centuries gripped by steel, beaten by whips, paddles, canes, and bare hands, almost always naked and gawked upon, and seldom a day went by without the groping of hands on all the most personal parts of her body and a penis in her vagina, ass, and mouth, if not all three. She had learned that if she remained limp and expressionless, this would frustrate some masters even more than resistance. However, after what she had been through the past nine days and this morning, she was not in the mood to remain limp and expressionless. Actually, the ease with which the shorter guard was able to chain her up probably had less to do with the taller guard's ability to hold her skill, and more to do with the fact that all of her attention was focused on squirming her hips around to try to get away from the hand on her crotch. She would have done better to remain limp; the guard quite enjoyed the motion of her crotch against his hand.

Thus, she hardly noticed as the shorter guard removed one wrist at a time from the spreader bar and placed each one securely in a manacle behind her neck, and he was able to accomplish this quite easily.

When the shorter guard had completed this, the taller guard pusher her back. The edge of the display block came before her hips, pulled her ass up onto the edge of it, forcing her knees to bend a little. Holding her there, he held her left wrist, and with it her head, on the ground with his left hand, and proceeded to have vaginal sex with her. She tried to get away, to straighten her legs and abdomen onto the ground, away from the penis, but again, it did her no good, and only furthered his pleasure. In the meantime, the shorter guard managed to detach her ankles and get them into the anklets of a two-foot hobble, but with some difficulty, as the slave was struggling against his companion.

"Well, shall we do our job and get her to the holding line to await her auction, or would you prefer to spend the rest of the day with your penis inside her?" asked the shorter guard.

"We... don't... always... get... dawlies... this... exquisite," gasped the taller guard, struggling to speak as his pleasure increased.

"Just... let... me... finish."

The shorter guard waited several minutes until the taller guard had his orgasm, then without giving the dawlie a chance to recover from the intrusion, yanked her leash and proceeded to drag her along. Fortunately for her, the taller guard was taking a respite, so there was no one to grope her each time she fell. Still, the shorter guard did not relax his grip when she fell, and she was left suspended by the leash, leaving great strain on her neck and somewhat restricted breathing until she was able to stand up. He took her to an area behind the stage where row upon row of slaves were chained to long bars running alongside them. A quick loop of a chain attached to a bar through the bend in her left arm and a quick lock, and Artemis was secured in her place in line.

Soon, another guard came and gave her a thorough hosing down, leaving no sign she had been used for sex recently. This she did not mind.

Sure, the water was painfully cold, but she was humiliated more to be seen nude with semen dripping from her than to be seen merely nude.

For his part, Alrik spent all day reading, looking up each time a new number was called, and returning to his book when it was not Artemis's. For those interested, it was entitled, "De-tangling the Bureaucracy of Multiple Planetary Governments, Orbital confederations, and Asteroid Alliances when Bounty Hunting".

"SJG-000-755" cried the auctioneer. It was far shorter than the other numbers he had heard that day. Alrik remembered what the first three letters stood for. S - Solar system, J - the planet Jupiter, G - the moon Ganymede. 000 meant she had been enslaved in the year slavery was legalized. It must have been a shock. He realized he was attracted to a far older woman. 755 meant she was the 755th person to be enslaved on that moon on that year. If he recalled correctly, Ganymede was among the first to legalize slavery. Initially, Ganymede legalized only the enslavement of women, but that changed in 86 years.

Artemis was being pulled onto the stage by a very tall, maybe 6'10", muscular guard. Well, technically, she was hanging from a 2' spreader bar connecting her wrists, held by the guard, while swinging her legs, which were connected by a 4 1/2 foot spreader bar. She appeared to be trying to kick the guard, but every time she got close, a swat at her ass sent her dangling uncontrollably. This did not last long, though, before her arm spreader bar was attached to a hook above the auction block. Her body stiffened at that point. Alrik supposed that she knew, on some level, how beautiful she was when she writhed, and did not want to give the audience the satisfaction.

Artemis saw hundreds of eyes, telescopes, and binoculars all pointed at her, mostly at her crotch, which was quite easy to see with her legs so far apart. She tried to stare back at them, but they did not seem to notice. They never did.

Alrik did not listen to the sales pitch or to the bidding until it reached 300,000 drackal. He simply watched Artemis, as she hung stiffly, as she began to turn when the auctioneer prodded her with a long pole, as she began writhing in midair again, this time trying not to turn the way the auctioneer wanted her to. He saw a tear stream down her cheek. Alrik was surprised. He had not seen her cry before.

"Three hundred thousand!"

"The man in the purple robes bids three hundred thousand. Will anyone beat three hundred thousand for this fine breasted sex slave?"

"Three hundred twenty thousand!"

"Three hundred fifty thousand!"

"Four hundred thousand!" Alrik chimed in.

"Four hundred twenty thousand!"

"Four hundred eighty thousand!"

"Five hundred thousand!"

"The man in the grey suit bids five hundred thousand. She's a rare beauty. That deep jet black hair! That pale ivory skin! Those violet eyes! Those C-cup breasts on such a small chest! Those shapely hips! That round little ass! Will anyone beat five hundred thousand for such a treasure?"

"Six hundred thousand!" cried Alrik.

"Six hundred thousand from the man in black leather for the slave with eyes like amethysts. will anyone beat six hundred thousand?"

"Seven hundred thousand!" cried the man in the silk purple robes.

"Eight hundred thousand!"

The auctioneer was feeling quite pleased. As beautiful as she was, she was also defiant and had run away many times. He had only expected to get between five and six hundred thousand drackals for this one. These must be the sadistic bidders who would enjoy giving a feisty slave what she deserved. And they were going up increments of one hundred thousand! How wonderful!

"Eight hundred thousand from the man in the grey suit! A spirited sex slave like this one is sure to give many long hours of pleasure to the right master. See how she dances when I prod her! Will anyone beat eight hundred thousand?"

"Nine hundred thousand!" countered the man in the silk purple robes.

"One million!" cried Alrik.

Going from hundred thousands to the million range made Alrik's two counter bidders realize that they could get other beautiful, feisty female slaves to torture. Sure, the newly enslaved rarely stayed feisty for long, and it was difficult to find experienced feisty sex slaves, but they could find a better deal than this.

"The man in black leather bids one million for this beauty of beauties! Ignore the bruises, men, they'll heal in less than a week with her immortality modification! Will anyone beat one million?"

There was some whispering, but no one cried out.

"Sold to the man in black leather for one million drackals! And what a fine bid it was!"

The tall guard came back out and lifted her up again, preparing to take her to the holding cage for sold slaves in case Alrik wanted to bid some more. He signaled that he would prefer she be brought to a private cell so he could get her now. The guard nodded. Artemis hung limply, head bowed.

When Alrik arrived to the private cell area, a guard took his payment and directed him to the cell where his first slave ever was waiting for him, spreadeagled on the floor. The guard gave Alrik the code he would need to unlock the door from within, and closed it behind him.

"Please, my master, let me out of these spreader bars."

"Not until I change your collar." There was an ancient tradition, still law on nearly all the planets, moons, and asteroids, that a slave was technically free when a collar was removed, and not a slave again until the next collar was in place. The collar was changed each time a slave changed masters. Thus, if she successfully ran away during the collar change, or managed to defeat her would-be new master in non-lethal combat, she was thenceforth a free woman. However, there were very few places that still had laws that the slave must actually be unrestrained during the collar change, or that the slave must be armed equally to her new master, or that combat must be one on one, or any other law ensuring any sort of fairness. Few slave transactions were completed on worlds that still had such laws.

Alrik pulled a collar out of a large black leather messenger bag, held it in front of his new slave's face, and turned it so she could see it.

Artemis looked up at it. It was covered in black leather, but based on its thickness and the six, evenly-spaced u-bow attachment points (not flimsy d-rings, but thick, looping protrusions), made out of a silvery-grey metal, there was obviously metal inside. Above the front u-bow, there was a hole in the leather where a tiny egraving of Alrik's ship symbol, an Iris flower, stuk out, embedded with small purple gems. The inside of the collar was obviously padded. She was not surprised. A slave of her price often received custom made collars. The silver-grey metal - titanium from the look of it - indicated a concern that she not be able to break out of it. Titanium offered a relatively good balance between strength and non-brittleness compared to steel alloys. It was quite resistant to corrosion, and had an extremely high melting point. It was soluble in strong acids, but those would be dangerous to have near one's neck. As an added bonus, the strength to weight ratio was quite high. He obviously liked black leather: he was dressed in it. The decorative symbol probably indicated that he thought of her as some kind of trophy.

"It is your size. Titanium core. Real leather casing. Wool padding. The stones on the iris are amethysts, to match the color of your eyes."

Alrik moved to unlock her current steel collar.

"Wait, my master," said the slave woman, "please give me a fair chance. When you take off that collar, I will be a free woman, until you get the new one on."

Alrik sighed. "You know where you are. A fair chance is not required here on Altima Tres. I told you: you will have a chance to buy your freedom. Be grateful."

"I've already saved you nearly five million drackals, master. You only pain one million drackals for me."

"Sorry, that got me interested, but you don't get credit for earning five million drackals just because you repaired one dyner coil and replaced another."

"Something your own engineer apparently couldn't do!"

"And I saved you from having to be a trix again, or from having to be a personal dawlie for some sadistic nobleman or wealthy merchant. I'd say you got the better end of the bargain. Of course, if you cease to cooperate with me, I could change my mind."

The collar's hinge was slightly off-center in the front, not visible under the black leather except when opened. It locked in the back, again slightly off-center. No padlock was needed, as the lock was discreetly integrated into the collar, and could only be unlocked with a small key.

After Alrik removed her old collar, Artemis's body suddenly tensed, and the center of her arm spreader bar came cracking down on his  head. Alrik passed out instantly.

Artemis had to work quickly. She knew that for her plan to work, she would have to get the keys, unlock herself from the spreader bars,  and chain Alrik up before he woke up. Then, she would have longer to figure out what to do about the cell door. Thank god he'd asked for  a private cell. If she was lucky, she'd have as much as 36 hours from when he entered before the guards outside wondered what was taking  so long. Alrik would be charged by the hour, but that was not her problem.

With her legs still held apart by a 4 1/2 foot spreader bar and her arms still held apart by a 2' spreader bar, maneuvering herself into  a position where she could pick his pocket with her right hand was awkward, if nothing else. It involved quite a lot of shifting her  weight onto her ass so she could mover her limbs, then onto her hands and feet so she could move her ass. Finally, she got the keys. The  really tricky part was contorting her right hand and wrist so she could unlock it. That done, it was much easier to to unlock her left  wrist. Unlocking her ankles could have been difficult were she not flexible. However, after centuries of cruel bondage and desperate  escape attempts, she was quite the contortionist and this was no problem.

That being done so quickly, it was time to chain Alrik up. She looked through his bag to figure out what she could use. The collars were  to small for him. So were all the manacles, anklets, and spreader bars. There was a leather outfit in the bag: she could look at that  later. All that would be of use were the lengths of chain and the padlocks. Before she chained him up, she stripped him. He had seen her  nude: time to return the humiliation. The removal of the black leather jacket and the front-buttoned sky blue linen shirt revealed arms  bulging with muscle and a thick, muscular chest. She unlaced and removed two black leather steel-toed boots and black wool socks,  revealing calloused feet. Pulling down the black leather pants revealed a pair of bulging, muscular legs. He should have unlocked her  and let her have a fair fight. Between his fitness and her malnutrition, he would have won. Finally, she pulled down his black cotton  underwear, revealing a thick, average-lengthed (albeit a little on the short side of average), uncircumcised penis and his balls. A small relief: if this did not work and he raped  her, it would not hurt so much as it would if his penis were larger.

She chained his ankles together tightly, wrapping the chain around four times before padlocking it off. Then she pulled him over to the  wall. Wrapping a chain four times about his right wrist, she pulled him up, with some difficulty, wound the chain through a bracket on  the wall, and tightly padlocked it there. She did the same with his left wrist. The end result was that his arms were spread wide, but  not quite so wide that his unconscious body did not lean forward a bit. Then, to make him really nervous when he woke up, she wound  another chain round his neck, padlocked it in place, forming a simple collar, leaving the extra length as a leash to pull on. As she had  defeated him in legal combat (the time of the collar change was a time such combat could legally occur), legally, this made him her  slave.

Alrik secured, Artemis had time to look at the clothing that had been in the black leather bag. Black cotton underwear and sports bra,  her size. She put these on. Long lilac linen shirt, buttons up front. This two she donned. It was a little on the loose side, and the sleeves were slightly two short (probably to make room for manacles). It buttoned all the way up to her neck. Black leather pants. Unlike Alrik's, they lacked pockets. These too were slightly on the loose side, and she needed the black leather belt to hold them up. The belt in place, they were slightly short - no doubt to make room for a hobble without the leather getting chafed by the chain. There was a leather jacket which zipped up front. Again, slightly loose, and with slightly too short sleeves. Finally, a pair of flat-footed sandals, made of black leather and wood on the bottom. All in all, she was quite modestly dressed, and it made her feel human again. She considered why Alrik brought her such an outfit. Looseness aside, he had clearly had it custom-tailored just for her, and the materials were high-end. It seemed to be the style of clothing he preferred to wear himself, almost as if he considered her an equal on some level. Why permit her to wear such a think after he had clearly enjoyed gawking at her and groping her a few days ago during the "examination"? Perhaps he was a better man than she had given him credit for. Then again, perhaps this was jealousy; perhaps he simply did not want other men to gawk at her and grope her.

It was taking longer than expected for Alrik to wake up. Artemis wondered if she had hit him harder than she meant. She picked up his book on "De-tangling the Bureaucracy of Multiple Planetary Governments, Orbital confederations, and Asteroid Alliances when Bounty Hunting" and sat down to read it. She'd been standing with her legs spread for the better part of 10 days, so it was a relief to be able to sit down comfortably. Before she had finished glancing through the table of contents, Alrik stirred.

"What... why?" Alrik mumbled as he came to. He had just been hit on the head with a spreader bar. Everything went black. Now he was regaining consciousness, he had a terrible headache. He was cold: his clothing was gone. He was being held up by chains. As he straightened his back, horror of horrors, he noticed the chain around his neck.

"You little tratsch! I was kind to you, and this is how you repay me!" Alrik yelled, his voice booming.

Artemis looked up from the book, stood up, walked toward Alrik and looked him in the eyes. "That kind of talk won't get you free," she stated flatly.

"Why?"

"Because I want my freedom. I want to live my life, the way I want it, not spend an eternity as a toy to be raped and tortured for the amusement of others. So, I need the code to open the door. And how long do we have before the guards check up on us?"

"36 hours from when I entered, and I wasn't going to rape or torture you for amusement."

"And what of that so-called examination you gave me the other day?"

"Firstly, that wasn't rape or torture, and secondly, if you hated it so much, why didn't you tell me to stop?"

"Maybe you stopped short of those, but it was degrading, and it was clear you wanted me as more than an engineer. Besides, you have made it clear that while I'm yours, I won't be free to pursue my own career, my own relationships, my own hobbies. As for why I did not tell you to stop: you threatened to let someone who would hurt me far worse than you would purchase me if I objected."

"I just shelled out one million drackals for you! You don't expect me to shell out that much money without examining the value of the merchandise, do you? And besides, if you had been honest with me, if you had told me how much you hated my every touch, it would have spared me the heartbreak of finding out after paying a million for you!"

"In one breath you speak of me as if I am just a piece of property, whose feelings are worth no more than that of your fork, and in the next, you speak of me your beloved who rejected you! Which is it?!"

"Look, Artemis, you are intelligent. You are headstrong. You fight for what you want. And as if that wasn't enough, you are quite pretty, and when that look of a tormented slave disappears from your face, like it did when you were repairing my engine, and it has now, you are beautiful beyond belief and you are everything I want in a woman! But that does not mean I like you enough to spend a million drackals on you and get nothing in return." As he said this, his manhood began to harden.

"Then you think of me as merchandise."

"Look, dear, just because I want my money's worth doesn't mean I don't care about your feelings. I don't want you to be miserable. Seriously, what would you do if I freed you?"

"Become a nun of the Akiletes order." The Aliketes order was a religious group following Aliketes, goddess of the studies of physics, chemistry, and astronomy, and also the protector goddess of prostitutes. The Akiletes order accepted men and women, whether they were virgins, widows or widowers, former slaves, or whatever; however, by interstellar treaty, nuns and monks had to be 21 or older, legally free, and without a living husband or wife.

"I didn't know you were the religious type."

"You know the laws. Once a woman reaches the age of 21 standard Earth years, the only thing that will protect her from the multitude of legal excuses to enslave her is if she is married, widowed, or a nun."

Laws on the enslavement of women varied from planet to planet, and even from continent to continent, province to province, city to city. Very few allowed the enslavement of younger women. Those who allowed enslavement as young as 18, 19, or 20 were not recognised under mutual recognition treaties, and those women were legally free if taken elsewhere. Those extreme few who allowed enslavement younger than 18 were considered basically as pirates, and under international law, it was legal to attack pirates and emancipate their slaves. However, throughout the galaxy, there were far more reasons to legally enslave a woman than to legally enslave a man. At worst, a man might be enslaved if he was convicted of a felony, or if he was in debt, or during specific challenges. (On Altima Tres, the collar change after a man bought a slave was one such challenge in which the man could be legally enslaved by his would-be slave.) In many places, the enslavement of men was not allowed at all, and all male slaves were imported. Even where it was allowed, it tended to be infrequent, only for the most severe felonies, and, if allowed for debt, there were a number of hurdles that must be overcome first, for example, it would probably only be permitted if there was a high amount of debt, and, in many places, only if the man was offered a debt repayment plan meeting certain legal standards of fairness and failed to meet the conditions of that plan. There were few challenges in which a man could be legally enslaved, but even then, his consent was needed for the challenge to occur. If he was enslaved for debt reasons, in theory, at least, he was supposed to be allowed to buy his freedom. Even if he had committed a felony, he might be given a specific time limit on enslavement, a matter of months, years, or decades, rather than for the rest of his life.

In most places, women could be enslaved for a wide variety of trivial things. She might be sold to repay the debt of any male relative, or perhaps for any reason her father chose. She might be enslaved if she accidentally exposed too much of her skin, or if she broke curfew. She might be enslaved for failing to meet her job requirements to the satisfaction of her employer, or for speaking disrespecfully to any man. Any felony, misdemenor, or sometimes even traffic violation would be enough. In some places, there were certain challenges a man could make to a woman, for any reason, and if she refused, she would be enslaved. If she lost, she would also be enslaved. The only universal protections were if she was married (in which case her husband must be enslaved first), widowed (which offered her the same protections as a man), or if she was a nun in good standing of a legally recognized order, but if she left the order, she was leaving into slavery. Women who became nuns were nuns for life.

"And you wouldn't consider marriage?" Alrik asked.

"If that's your price, then if you offer me a reasonably decent marriage contract, I'll marry you today in exchange for my freedom."

"You wouldn't marry me for love, perhaps, in six months or a year?"

"If you want marriage for love, you were born in the wrong century. Why do you think so many women are married on their 21st birthdays with such unfavorable marriage contracts. She may not go anywhere, see anyone, or spend any money without his permission. He amy beat her or torture her in any way unless she is pregnant. He may keep her in any sort of bondage, as long as there is no collar. He may rape her at any time in any of her holes. Her only protections are that he may not force her to have sex with any other man, and that unless she commits adultery, he may not intentionally kill her or expose her crotch to others."

"Come now. Most marriage contracts are not that bad. If they were, hardly any women would marry: they would all become nuns. He is not usually allowed to beat her except if she has broken certain rules, and even then, there are usually limts to how hard, the same as if she was a nun being punished for breaking the rules of the order. She is usually allowed to roam freely for a third to two-thirds of the day, and he may only demand sex from her during the remaining portion. Unless she breaks a rule or refuses sex, generally only gentle, padded restraints are allowed. And unless she breaks a rule, she is generally permitted to dress as conservatively as she likes when others are around. And yes, the punishments may be more severe if she commits adultery, but no man likes to be cuckholded."

"'Unless she breaks a rule'. When the rules are as petty as 'you may not speak out of turn; meals must always be on time, and must be exactly as I ordered it, not burned, not oversalted or overspiced, not too hot or too cold; if I forget to order, you must pick one of my favorite dishes and serve it exactly as I like it; you must always address me as "Sir"; when we are alone together, you must never have your legs closed, when you are standing they must be so far apart, you may not sit, only kneel, and your knees must be so far apart, and even when you are doing chores, you must be careful not to close your legs; speaking of which, you are responsible for all household chores; when we are alone together, you must be nude or wear a Dorian maid outfit while doing chores; if I order you to assume any position, you must say "Yes sir" and do so immediately and hold it until given permission to move; when I order you to suck my cock, you must do it just so; etc., etc., etc.', well, he's sure to find reason to punish her as often as he wants. It is little better than being a dawlie. But there may be no convents nearby willing to take the woman, and it is, at least, a little better than being a dawlie, and if she has the fortune to outlive him, she will finally be allowed to live her life, so she signs."

"Well, at least a woman who is near a convent that will take her on her 21st birthday can get a much better marriage contract." By this point, Alrik's manhood was fully erected.

"Look, Alrik, if you want marriage, here are my terms: you may do mostly as you wish with me during the first seven days we are married, and for the next three weeks, you may do mostly as you wish with me two days out of every seven. After than, you may do mostly as you wish with me every one day out of seven. The other six are mine to do as I wish, including having sex with another man, if I so desire it. If I wish to go somewhere for a long period of time, longer than six days, I may make it up to you by giving you two days to do as you wish with me for every seven days I will be gone, payable in advance. If I arrive back late, for every two days I am late, you may have one day to do mostly as you wish with me upon my return. On the days you may do mostly as you wish with me, the restrictions are as follows: 1) You may not kill me. 2) You may not cut off or mutilate any portion of my body. 3.) You will not use any sort of electroshock or chemical torment, including ginger. You will not drug me. 4) You may not do anything to me or force me to do anything when we are not alone. 4) You will respect my diet, and I will receive at least 1000 calories. 5) You may beat me only with your bare skin, a wooden paddle, a leather whip, or a wooden crop. You will not beat me in any way which may cause concussion or other brain damage. 6) You may not insert anything into my anus. 7) You will not urinate or defecate in or on me, and I will be permitted to do those activities in a sanitary fashion. All other particularly unsanitary practices are also forbidden. 8) You will not impregnate me. 9) All restraints must be metal, leather, rope, or cloth. No collar. Wax is specifically forbidden. 10) You will not subject me to enough cold to cause hypothermia, or enough heat to cause burns. 11) You will not expose me to smoke or anything will a strong scent, such as perfume. 12) If you break any of these rules, you forfeit the next day you would otherwise be permitted to do mostly as you wish with me."

"Artemis, my dear, I'm not a sadist. I don't want to do most of those things to you. And I want a marriage based on mutual love, not rules which give me most of the power. I'm sorry. I won't just free you unless you will marry me, and I won't let you marry me unless you love me. Now, look, if you don't let me go, the guards will eventually come to see why we are still in here. They will block you from leaving, and while you are still here, they can legally re-collar you, and they will use as many guards as it takes to do that. You will be tortured and allowed time for your body to heal before you are auctioned off again to someone else. If you let me go, I'll still protect you from being sold to someone else, and the sooner you do it, the less I'll punish you for trying this."

"Alrik, my horny little man, if you don't give me the code to the door, the guards won't rescue you after they are done collaring and restraining me. You are legally my slave. After they enslave me, you will be legally their slave. You'll be sold in a male slave auction. With your muscles, and how easily you erect even when chained against your will, I imagine you'll fetch a high price. Give me the code, and I'll knock you out again, unchain you, and leave. When you come to, you can get dressed and walk out freely. My freedom in exchange for yours. So, what is it? Shall we both me slaves, or both walk free?"

"You won't go through with it. And I do not erect easily!"

"I haven't even touched you since you came to, and there you stand, your penis fully erect."

"Artemis, it's only because I am very fond of you, and because I really like seeing you confident. I wouldn't harden up so easily for someone else."

"If you give me the code, I'll give you oral sex and let you orgasm before I knock you out. Otherwise, you can stand there feeling unsatisfied."

"Hey, it's not nice to tease a man and then deny him!"

"So give me the code."

"No!"

Artemis returned to reading the book.

After awhile, Alrik said, "Look, if you don't at least free one of my hands so I can masturbate, then when you are my slave again, in addition to beating you for doing this, I'm going to give you a nice ginger dildo as payment for this frustration."

"I won't be your slave again."

Both hoping to call the other's bluff, they waited, occasionally arguing, Alrik's erection coming and going. Artemis got some good sleep. Aside from gentle breathing, she appeared dead as a log for a full 12 hours. After what she'd been through waiting to be auctioned, lying down unfettered on the cold hard stone floor was extremely comfortable for her, and she needed the sleep. Still, before nodding off, she arranged Arlik's leather bag and clothing to fulfill the functions of a pillow and a bit of padding beneath her, as best she could.

As the 35-hour mark hit, Artemis began to wonder if Alrik wasn't bluffing after all. Perhaps he had a wealthy friend who would buy him and free him if he was enslaved. Perhaps he had already arranged to bribe the guards to let him go in the event of this contingency.

Actually, he had no such plans, but he wasn't ready to forfeit his investment. After all, she probably was bluffing: no matter how much she wanted her freedom, surely she knew she was better off as his slave than someone else's. If it hit the 10-minutes-'til mark, then he'd give her the code, but only if she agreed not to knock him out. After all, he'd need time to get dressed, which he couldn't do unsconscious. Maybe he'd even have a chance to grab her before she made it out.

Artemis gave in first. She considered not doing so: if she had to be a slave, so should he! In the end, it was the clothing he had made for her that convinced her. Few of her masters had permitted her to wear clothing, and when they did, it was tratschy-styled clothing that offered little modesty, and that they took great pleasure in slowly stripping from her. Although it was a bit loose, the clothing had clearly been custom made for her, and allowed her a degree of privacy she had rarely felt in over six hundred years. Maybe he would let her wear it often.

She walked over to Alrik and asked, "Why is the outfit you had made for me loose? You 'examined' me enough that day to know my size. It was clearly made for me; why the bagginess?"

"Because you have obviously been underfed. Because if you were my slave, you would be properly fed, you'd gain a healthy weight, and then the clothing would fit properly."

"If I let you go... will you not destroy it? Will you let me wear it, at least occasionally."

Alrik blinked at her. "If you let me go, and you want don't want to be sold again, I expect you to show me just how much you want to me my slave. But if you convince me to keep you, then yes, of course."

_______________________________________________________________________

Artemis swallowed hard. She wasn't sure if pretending to want to be anyone's slave was something she could do. But she was also terrifed of what a different master might do to her. She first released Alrik's neck from the chain collar. Then she knelt down and released his ankles. Knowing that he wanted to be touched, as she was kneeling down, she gently stroked him. As she stood up again to release his wrists, she stroked him again. Pressing her pelvic area gently against his erection and kissing him on the lips, she began to release his wrists. When she released his right wrist, the hand came down to her check, stroking it as she kissed him. When she released his left wrist, it came down her back, reach under her shirt, and held the small of her back, pressing her closer to him. She took the hint and began wiggling her hips to stimulate his penis. After releasing Arlik completely, Artemis began to move her hands across his chest and back, feeling the muscles.

Alrik moved his left hand toward her belly, gently stroking it. She began to wiggle her hips harder and faster. It felt so good for Alrik. Between kisses, she began making little noises, sharp breaths in, little moans and groans. Artemis began to kiss her way down towards Alrik's penis. When she was down on her knees, about to put it in her mouth, Alrik decided he wanted to carry the foreplay on longer. He bent over, and placing his right hand where the back of Artemis's neck met her head, and his left hand on her upper arm, and firmly but gently pulled her up to resume kissing him on the lips. She resumed moving her pelvic area against his penis. His left took the spot at the back of her head where it met her neck, holding it where he wanted it, and his left hand slipped to her belly, under her shirt, gently stroked it,  and then moved on into her pants, down her shaven crotch. Suddenly, lifting her by her crotch, his middle finger in between the lips down there, he spun her around so that her back was to the wall.

They resumed, this time with Alrik's hand touching Artemis's crotch area. Moaning and groaning louder, she wiggled over his hand as hard and quickly as she could. But something was wrong. Alrick noticed the area was bone dry. He did his best to stimulate it, to rub her clitoris, but still it remained dry. She was moaning, groaning and panting. "Oh, my master, you are so good, my master, please use this slave, my master, oh, my master, that feels so good, my master." He had heard some women have difficulty producing their own fluids and need extra lubrication, but he wondered. He moved his hand up, back underneath her shirt, and began circling her right breast, around and around, slowly moving inwards toward the nipple, he stroked it and pressed it with his forefinger, using the rest of his hand to continue stimulating the breast. Such a soft breast and such a soft nipple. He loved the feel of it, but the nipple didn't harden, even after several minutes.

"Oh, my master, please use this slave, my master, that feels so good my master, oh, my master, this slave don't deserve such kindness, my master, please, my master, please let this slave suck your penis, my master, please use this slave, my master, oh, my master, that feels so good, my master, please fuck this slave hard, my master..." Artemis went on between kisses, moaning, groaning, and panting when she was neither kissing nor speaking. While Alrik's hand had been busy exploring her breast, her pelvis had been frantically rubbing against his penis.

Curious, Alrik moved his right hand back down, into her pants, into the crotch again. It was still dry as a bone. He went on kissing her, moving both his hands to grab her wrists, signalling her to stop rubbing.

"Oh, my master, please use this slave, my master, please let this slave suck your penis, my master, oh, my master, please fuck this slave's vagina hard, my master, please fuck this slave's anus hard, my master, oh, my master, please use this slave, my master, oh, my master, please paddle this slave hard for her wrongs, my master, please forgive this slave her transgressions, my master, oh, my master, please whip this slave hard, my master, oh, my master, please crop this slave hard, my master, please keep this slave chained up like the animal she is for your pleasure, my master, oh, my master, you are so kind, my master..." Artemis went on between kisses, moaning, groaning, and panting.

Alrik continued kissing her, continued to feel her pelvis rubbing frantically against his penis. He gathered her wrists together, restraining them with his right hand. He slowly began pulling them up above her head, while his left moved to her her belly and began stroking it. When her arms were fully extended above her head, suddenly he pushed her wrists and belly firmly towards the wall and pulled back.

"Oh my master, please use this lowly animal for your pleasure, my master," Artemis went on, wiggling her breasts and rubbing against Alrik with her left leg, as only her legs still had enough freedom of movement to reach him, and she needed one to stand on.

"Stay still!" Alrik boomed.

She complied, mostly, putting down her leg, and wiggling in a more subdued manner, as if she was trying to stop but couldn't help herself.

"Oh, my master, please put ginger dildos in this animal's vagina and anus after you have fucked those holes, my master, please use this animal and then punish it for betraying you, my master..."

"And be quiet!" he boomed again.

She ceased speaking, but continued moaning and groaning and panting.

"Stop wiggling! Stop making all those noises! I know you are faking it!"

Artemis continued squirming, moaning, groaning, and panting, but the way her eyes widened in fear on Alrik's last exclamation revealed that he was right. Alrik was losing his erection. This had not been what he wanted. Yes, he had wanted to take her, but not like this. He wanted her to want him to do it, really want him to do it, not just pretend, and when he had figured she was, he had started to become turned off. Besides, her pleadings were becoming increasingly unbelievable. He knew from earlier she did not want anything in her anus, she didn't want ginger, and she didn't like being beaten. He was pretty sure she didn't think of herself as a lowly animal, either.

For her part, Artemis had worked herself in a frenzy, remembering the torture so many of her previous owners had put her through, remembering how it had sometimes taken months for limbs to regrow after they were chopped off. If she couldn't convince Alrik that she really enjoyed being touched by him, that she really wanted to be his slave, to submit to whatever he wanted, those things would happen again, she thought.

"I said keep still and stop making those noises!" Alrik shouted.

Still she ignored him, desperate to convince him that she really had enjoyed being touched and wanted more, and that she couldn't help herself.

Alrik sighed. "You will be punished for this later. But we are running out of time. Get on your knees and stay still and be quiet."

She kneeled, legs spread wide, thighs upright, still wiggling, moaning, groaning, and panting. She crossed her wrists behind her back. Alrik tilted her head up so he could look into her face as he collared her. Even as the movements of her body and the sound of her breath and voice indicated arousal, her eyes told a different story. There was fear in them. As he put the collar on, the fear seemed to mix with defeat and despair. He handed her a hobble with a one-inch chain. The anklets and chain were titanium. "Put it on."

Artemis seemed to think she was supposed to do this while remaining kneeling, so she fumbled around a bit awkwardly trying to click the first anklet in place on her left. She had to bring her legs closer together so the hobble would stretch far enough that she could click the second anklet in place.

While she was fumbling with a hobble behind her back, Alrik pulled out large black linen hankerchief and tied a knot it the middle of it. When Artemis had hobbled herself, he handed this to her. "Gag youself."

Obediently, she took it, opened her mouth, and put the knot inside. Pulling the hankerchief around as tightly as she could, she began to knot it in the back. However, tying a good knot is terribly difficult when you can't see what you are doing. Alrik helped her. Secretly, Artemis was relieved, as she was tired of making noises.

Alrik got out a pair of manacles, linked by a short 4-inch chain, to which was attached a longer chain with a leather handle at the end, clearly meant to pull her by her wrists. "Here, get them on."

Artemis took them behind her back.

"No, I want your wrists chained in front of you."

Artemis moved her arms forward again, put them on quickly, snapping each manacle in place. Hips style wiggling, she offered her wrists up to Alrik.

After gathering everything in his leather bag and slingin it over his shoulder, Alrik pulled her up, holding her upper left arm with his right hand, and the lead with his left hand. He looks at her eyes again. Come to think of it, the fear is downright terror. Resignation and defeat also show. He pulls her along quickly, hoping to stop her wiggling, and succeeds. Entering the code to open the private room, he pulls her out, stops to pay a guard, and is off again. The brusque pace and the short hobble causes Artemis to stumble more than a few times. Alrik uses his grip on her arm to catch her and force her to keep moving. Alrik keeps up this furious pace until they reach an engine shop.

"Pick out what we need."

Artemis walks around, picking out tools not included in the standard engine repair kit. Tools that will help her diagnose the engine better; tools that will help her repair certain parts rather than replace them; tools that will allow her to enhance the engine in non-standard ways. She also picks some spare parts she thinks no ship with a Prometheus 2401 engine should liftoff without. Additionally, she picks a few books on engineering and two on stellar navigation. Alrik holds everything for her. At some point, she turns to look at him. Alrik still sees fear, but the defeat and resignation is dominant now.

"Is that everything?" Alrik asks.

The slave nods.

[To be continued]

As he led his troublesome acquisition back to the ship, Alrik pondered what do to with it. Yes, it was in someways easier to think of the slave as an it. It was property. Property has no business hurting its owner. He should stick ginger dildos in it and whip and beat its most sensitive areas. That would teach it its place. There are no ethical qualms when dealing with its. It doesn't have rights. It exists merely to please him, and it willfully malfunctioned. Property is repaired or thrown out when it malfunctions. How do you repair a slave? Torture it into submission.

And yet, he didn't want a relationship with an it. Sure, he had justified its expense and the basis and it could do wonders in his engine room. No relationship needed there. But he also wanted a she, a she who could be his intellectual equal, a she who was a challenge to woo, a she with a mind of her own, and that gorgeous little body.

She was smart, smart enough to be a better engineer than the one he had. She had resisted the guards when they had hurt her. She might too easy to woo; she seemed more pleased with being allowed to wear clothes than any free woman would be. (A free woman would take it for granted.) On the other hand, she might be impossible. How could he tell whether or not what he was doing was working if she had to go off and fake it?

Why did she try to fake it? Of all the blasted things she could do to spoil his dreams of them making love together! Just like any common little trix. But what made her turn submissive all the sudden? She was an old slave; if she were easy to break, she'd have been broke when he first saw her on the auction block. Or perhaps she did this to test every new master? Try being feisty for awhile to see how much she could get away with, and then become submissive until she's sold again? But why do that? For the most part, she'd only get herself stuck with crueler masters who enjoyed torturing the feisty ones. Perhaps she was an honest-to-god masochist. Not the fake sort who merely pretended to be masochist to satiate a master's sadism, but the real sort, who might misbehave in the hopes of being punished more severely?

No, that couldn't be it. Her escape attempt had seemed honest enough. It might have worked, if she had waited longer. A real masochist wouldn't go so far as to hit her master over the head to incite a response. More likely, a real masochist would try to goad him into punishing her verbally.

He had told her if she didn't want to be sold, he expected her to show him just how much she wanted to be his slave. Could that be it? Could she be afraid of being sold? What did she fear from another master that she did not fear from him? Sure, in the beginning, he had meant to treat her gently, but surely she must know that hitting him on the head had changed that?

Or perhaps this was just a temporary scheme. Perhaps she was tired, and only meant to play the submissive role long enough to regain her strength to resist.

Arriving at his ship, Alrik saw Chantal, who had no doubt returned from drinking and gambling on the surface to find the message he had left her that she was being replaced by a new engineer.

"Let me guess, you're firing me so you can hire a cheaper engineer, just so you can afford your own little dawlie. Am I right?"

"Have you decided where you want to be dropped off, Chantal?"

"Well, I hope the orgasms she gives you are worth it when you are drifting out in space, waiting to die, because your cheap engineer doesn't know how to get you going again?"

"Actually, this new engineer fixed our engine."

"Hah, any amateur with half a brain can replace an engine!"

"You don't understand. The new engineer didn't replace the Prometheus 2325. The new engineer repaired it, and saved me nearly 5 million drackas."

"What? That's impossible...."

"You know, Chantal, just because you can't do it doesn't mean it isn't possible."

"You don't understand. The Prometheus Company keeps the details of their wiring a secret. Sure, you might be able to tell something is wrong with this piece or that piece, but unless you know how to properly wire in the replacement piece, you just have to replace the whole thing."

"Well, fortunately, I have an engineer who does knows how to do that."

"But only one of the highest level engineers at Prometheus could do such a thing! And they wouldn't be permitted... hey! If one of Prometheus's engineers broke corporate confidentiality, Prometheus is sure to be offering a bounty. Plus, other engine companies would be sure to offer a reward to anyone who handed a defector over to them. We could collect from the highest bidder!"

"Unless the Prometheus Company orders slaves to design their engines engines, I don't think anyone broke corporate confidentiality."

"What... her!?"

"Yes, her."

"You're replacing me with a tratsch! Why, how dare you?! I, a graduate of Vega University, versus her, a disgusting little trix, who has no doubt had the pleasure to be fucked by millions of penises before yours... and you would pick her!

"I would pick higher quality work for cheaper, yes."

"I... I demand you take me back to Vega at once!"

"Yes, princess."

"Any free woman would be a princess compared to her."

"Yes, but unlike a princess, a dawlie doesn't try to boss me around. Instead, I get to boss her around."

"You, or whomever is holding her leash at the moment."

"Isn't that right, my sweet little dawlie?"

The slave stared blankly, as if she hadn't heard.

"Oh yes, she's perfectly obedient," said Chantal, the sarcasm dripping from her voice.

Well, Alrik thought, the whole submissiveness act must have been temporary. Still, if she was going to be defiant, couldn't she do it privately? He reached around her waist, and his right hand felt its way underneath her pants to her crotch. Her body tensed but she made only a feeble attempt to move away. Using his left arm, he pulled her closing to him, so her back was firmly pressed against his chest. Finding her clit, he pinched it cruelly. Her body jerked, and for a moment it seemed she might have fallen if he had not held her up. Then she rose up on her tip-toes, as if she hoped that would bring her clit out of reach of his hand. But of course, his hand traveled up with her. He began to pull her clit roughly in different directions, causing her to jerk around even more. Well, her body was certainly beautiful when she was in pain, and the way her body jerked against his certainly felt good. That said, he didn't here so much as a muffled cry through her gag. Chantal seemed to enjoy this spectacle.

He whispered in her ear, "I said, I get to boss you around, don't I, trix?"

She shook her head. In response, Alrik tugged even harder on her clit and inserted a couple fingers into her vagina.

"Do you want to be sold, or do you want to be my little tratsch who does what I tell her to?"

Alrik felt a little wiggle of the slave's hips over his hand, in addition to the jerking. Of course, he should not have asked a yes or no question while she was gagged. It must be that: she was afraid of being sold. No doubt, she was trying to fake it again, wiggling her hips as if she enjoyed having her clit yanked about. She wasn't doing so good a job of it as she had been earlier: the wiggles were interrupted by the jerks.

"Just nod yes if you want to be my little tratsch..." The slave nodded vigorously before Alrik could finish the sentence. Alrik stopped yanking her clit around and loosened his grip on it.

Chantal tilted her head back and burst into laughter. "Well, if you want to torture your woman into agreeing with you all the time, then may the two of you deserve each other! I'm going to Vega to find a real merchant." With that, she spun about and went into the ship, presumably off to her quarters.

Alrik felt the slave's wiggles become more convincing. She seemed to furiously be trying to push her clit and the rest of her cunt onto and all over his hand. Her ass rubbed against his crotch as she did this. If he had believed it was real, he probably would have become aroused. He lifted her up by her crotch. The wiggling became more of a struggle for balance on his hand than anything erotic.

"Keep still, slave."

She gradually relaxed, and he held her so she would not fall. After gently setting her down, he removed his hand from her pants. Rather than taking her to the brig, he took her to his cabin. After firmly deadbolting his cabin door, he pushed her gently onto the bed. He unchained her ankles and wrists, and as he did so, he whispered into her ear.

"Now, I know you don't want to be sold. That's why you've become so cooperative all the sudden, isn't it? Isn't it? You don't need to fake arousal, but I need you to keep still unless I tell you to do something, and quiet unless I ask you a question. Understood? Good."

Leaving the gag in place, Alrik grabbed a short leather whip and a wooden crop from under his bed. Standing up, he pointed at her with the crop. "Now, strip."

The slave began to perform a dance, stripping slowly as she did so. Alrik did not the the styles of slave dancing nor the the meaning of the different moves. Had he known, he would have recognized that her style was a four centuries old version of Argusian slave dance.

Four centuries ago, the Argusians had a powerful empire. Argusian men were never enslaved on Argus, although foreigners might be, and they did purchase slave men from other star systems. The planets around the red giant Argus all had laws that every woman would be enslaved on her 21st birthday and be immediately auctioned, the proceeds going to the male head-of-house of her family. It was illegal for any member of her family more closely related than a third cousin to purchase or own her. Prior to their 21st birthdays, girls were kept hidden from society. It was not considered proper for them to be raised by slaves while still free, so they rarely stayed with their mothers past their first year of life. At the same time, most fathers had little desire to become attached to a girl who would be auctioned soon enough. So, for the most part, the girls of the planets around Argus spent their first years of life with their mothers, their next five with a male nanny, who usually looked after perhaps 10-30 girls. Frequently, the nanny would know two or three languages, so many girls were bilingual or trilingual by the age of six. Upon reaching the age of six, were sent to a boarding school, where they learned about many things, such as reading, writing, calligraphy, languages, poetry, singing, instruments, dancing, sewing, knitting, cooking, drawing, painting, sculpture, pottery, and so forth. In short, from the age of six until 18, they learned many things which would help them please their future masters, but nothing about sex or what was in store for them, for it was illegal to expose any girl under the age of 18 to the dark world of sexual slavery.

From 18 until 21, they were transferred to other boarding schools. Here, they were still not told what was in store for them. However, they were told that one day, they might want to attract a handsome young man. The education changed its tone. While the men's clothing they were taught to sew continued to become more ornate and fashionable as their skill improve, they were taught to make themselves more revealing clothing that accentuated different parts of their bodies. Men's clothing fully covered the everything but the head and hands. Grown women wore skirts or dresses, never pants. The skirts were generally short, leaving most of the legs in full view, or slitted, revealing the legs as the slit flapped open. Women's shirts and dresses, if they had sleeves, had only very short sleeves, never reaching the elbow. Many had only straps, or no straps at all, being held onto the torso merely by wrapping tightly around it. Women's necklines were usually low, and it was not uncommon for anywhere from 2-8 inches of belly to be exposed underneath a woman's shirt. The dancing the girls were taught after they turned 18 was more erotic than what they had been taught before. When they cooked, they cooked two meals: one for their teachers and one for themselves. They were only allowed to taste the meal they cooked for their teachers as required for quality preparation. That meal was to be a balance of deliciousness and nutritiousness, and had to be arranged in a decorative fashion. The meal for themselves was to be plain, cheap, and nutritious, and they were not expected to spend much time preparing it. The girls were taught how to do their hair and apply make-up, how to walk daintily, and so forth. Their studies in the arts otherwise continued as normal, growing in difficulty. For punishment, they suffered nothing worse than a scolding or to be locked in a room by themselves for a few hours, or else to be sent to bed without dinner.

On the eve of a girl's 21st birthday at a birthday at a boarding school, a feast was thrown in her honor. It was one of the few occassions the girls were permitted to dine as their teachers did. The feast would be held in a large ballroom, some distance from the boarding school itself. A variety of men would attend the feast in honor of the girl's birthday. They were told to treat the girl's as free women, which they still were, and to say nothing about the futures of the girls. The men spoke politely to the girls, and generally behaved as perfect gentlemen. The girl who was turning 21 was told that in the morning, she would be able to go home with one man to spend her life with him, and she was encouraged to show off her talents in dancing, singing, playing instruments, and so forth, so that she could convince the man she wanted to take her home. The girl who would soon turn 21 was lead to a nearby room to sleep and dream of whom she should try to persuade the next morning. In the meantime, the rest of the girls would go back to the boarding school, and the men would bid on her. Sometime after midnight, when she had turned 21, the highest bidder would go to abduct her. It was a rude awakening, to be stripped naked for the first time, to be collared and chained for the first time, to be whipped and beaten for the first time, and usually to be raped for the first time. She would still maintain hope of rescue, but sooner or later, when she was taken out into the world, naked or more skimpily dressed than ever before and in chains, she would notice that no one tried to rescue her, and the other women in the world were treated as she now was, and finally, her master would explain to her that all Argusian women were enslaved on their 21st birthdays, and that the money he had paid for her would be split between the male head of her household, perhaps her grandfather, and the boarding school who had arranged the sale.

Thus, four centuries ago, the Argus system became famous for producing some of the finest quality slaves: well educated in reading and writing, typically speaking perhaps 20 languages, skilled in music, dancing, and art. Fresh at 21, they were innocent and almost always virgins. They usually started off feisty and broke quickly. As demand for Argusian slaves increased, many men from other star systems sent off their young girls to the Argusian boarding schools, hoping to enjoy the high payoffs when their girls reached the age of 21. No star system sold more expensive slaves. Frequently, the buyer at her 21st birthday would not rape her, but instead either resell her on a distant planet or else bring her directly to her new master. Even plain looking Argusian women typically sold for 50,000 drackal on her 21st birthday, and if transported to a distant planet for resale while still a virgin, might sell for several million drackal. Sometimes, the slaver taking her to the other planet might be a representative of the boarding school itself, rather than a middle man, in which case, the school and her family enjoyed the full monetary benefits of the foreign sale.

The modern Argus system still had these laws, but the empire had declined, and the teachers were now merely mediocre, and there were fewer boarding schools, which took on only the more beautiful, promising students.

As demand for Argusian slave women increased, schools opened up to take women who were already slaves and teach them Argusian arts. About 400 years ago, Artemis had been sent to one such school. As the school teacher were used to teaching willing students, they lied to the slave woman, just as they lied to the girls. They told them that they might have the chance of winning husbands instead of masters, if only they could persuade a wealthy man interested in a wife instead of a slave to purchase them. They were promised that after some years of schooling, they would be introduced to such men. Artemis was convinced, as all the others were, and had studied hard in the Argusian arts. These boarding schools, which taught grown slaves rather than girls, also taught sex: however, in keeping with their story that they meant to find husbands rather than masters for the women, it was fairly vanilla sex, with no chains, ropes, whips, or other devices used to restrain or punish slaves. They were taught how to have sex the way a free woman would with a man she was passionately in love with. Artemis was a fast learner, when she thought to benefit from it, and graduated in only five years. At the end of that time, she had learned 14 more languages, bringing her total to 49. Her master was disappointed, though, when she proved to be as impossible to break as before her schooling and unwilling to use what she had learned to please him.

Now, as she stood before Alrik, Artemis danced in the Argusian style for the first time in about four centuries. Had he been able to interpret the moves, he would have seen that it was about a harem girl who had displeased her master and was begging that only she and not the other harem girls would be punished for it. It took Artemis much longer to strip while dancing than it would have otherwise, but Alrik did not interfere. When she had finished, Alrik told her to lie on the bed, and chain each of her ankles to the wall on either side, so that her ass was suspended about two feet over the bed. Yes, the room was small enough to make such a thing possible: it was a spaceship cabin, after all. It was perhaps a testament to Artemis's flexibility that she was able to get her left ankle bolted to the wall on her left without much difficulty. Her right leg proved more problematic. She could get her ankle in place, but of couse, there was no way for her to support her weight and reach it at the same time, so Alrik locked it in place. Her legs were at perhaps a 160 degree angle, and her crotch was vulnerable to the ceiling. Alrik gave her a black piece of cloth and told her to blindfold herself. Chaining her wrists, he pulled them over her head, and underneath the mattress, securing them to the bedframe down their, causing her body to stretch so her head and shoulders pressed into the mattress while the rest of her back was slightly suspended.

"Why did you try to escape?" Alrik asked.

"Because I am a foolish girl, my master."

Alrik cracked the whip across her breasts. "By the way, if you scream, you'll be gagged, and your ordeal will be repeated tomorrow night. Now, why did you try to escape?"

"Master, like I said, I am a foolish girl. Sometimes I get these wild ideas about running around without chains, and I really know I shouldn't dream of such things...."

Crack! The whip landed again on her breasts again, this time hitting one of the nipples. The body jerked. "The truth, please."

"Because I am a bad slave who needs to be punished, my master. Please beat me harder, master!"

Winding a slender chain first over, then under, crossed at the back, then between her breasts to draw the previous loops tighter together, Alrik forced the slave's breasts in bondage, causing them to stick out more. Ten more times he cracked his whip over them, the body on the bed convulsing each time, and the red stripes standing out in stark contrast against the pale skin beside them.

"I said, I want the truth. Do you think I do not know you slaves are taught to say such things to appease your masters!? I want to know what you were really thinking."

"I wasn't thinking, my master."

This time, instead of the whip, the crop came down hard on the slave's breasts, ten times upon the left breast and ten times upon the right.

"The truth, I said. Get that through your head, my little tratsch."

"Well, what would you have done if our roles had been reversed!?"

"Keep your voice softer!" Instead of the simple whip or the crop, this time, a knout came down on her breasts. (A knout is a heavier, crueler sort of whip.) The body convulsed even more, but still there was no scream or whimper. "You can speak you mind, here in private, but do it softly, and be quiet when I tell you to. If you shout like that any more, expect a gag and a repeat of your punishment tomorrow night." The knout came down on her breasts again, causing another large convulsion. "And that wasn't an answer!"

"What right have you to enslave me? I want to be free."

Crack! The simple whip was back, bringing with it a small convulsion. "Better, now keep talking."

"Would you have so much courage to whip me were I not chained up?"

Crack! The knout landed on her breasts. "That wasn't on topic. And are you threatening me? I offered to let you buy your freedom. And you would repay me by attacking me and threatening to do so again in the future! Besides, you helped quite a bit in chaining yourself up, you ungrateful little trix. Now explain why you betrayed me after I showed such kindness!" The knout landed again on her breasts.

Lips stained red from blood, as she had been biting her lips to keep from screaming, the slave responded, "Is this what you call kindness?" This time the crop landed on her ass, causing it to bounce up a little, and a wave of tension to pass through her muscles in response to the pain, but she continued, "My freedom is mine by right, and you have no right to sell it to me. It's not as if I haven't already paid for myself five times over, considering how much it would have cost you to replace your engine. If you won't grant me my freedom for that, why should I believe that you ever would?"

There was a silence. Alrik looked down at the woman's crotch, spread wide beneath him. Whatever its last ordeal was, it had healed, and looked perfect now. He began to stroke both her thighs and her belly with both hands, coming nearer and nearer the crotch area. She struggled against her chains, but it did little good. After about five minutes of this stroking, she said, "Please stop touching my thighs and my belly."

"Certainly," said Alrik, and placed his right hand on her crotch. His middle finger pressed against her clitoris, and all his right fingers rubbed gently. His left fingers circled around the lips on either side of her vagina.

She struggled more furiously, still accomplishing little. "Please stop that."

"Certainly," said Alrik. This he stopped rubbing, but proceeded to use two fingers right hand to fuck her. Now her struggles accomplished nothing but to hurt herself more as her movements caused the fingers to jam into her at the wrong angles. Realizing this, she became still.

"Stop, please stop."

Sighing, Alrik walked around beside her, "Well, at least you've started being honest again."

Pulling up the blindfold so she could see, he leaned over her, nearly close enough to kiss. "If I keep you, you'll be paid 5% of net profits for any given mission, provided that from the end of the previous mission until the end of that mission, you cooperate perfectly. No attacking me or anyone else, no trying to run away, no refusing to work, no public defiance, and not too much defiance in private, or else your pay for that mission is forfeit, and I'll increase your debt. And if your work is exceptional, I might raise your pay up to 10% for any given mission.

"Well, 5% of 5 million is 250,000. That should account for a quarter of my debt."

"You wish. Consider keeping the ship in working order a prerequisite for us being able to run missions. And that stunt you pulled earlier is going to cost you. For cracking me over the head, trying to run away, and threatening to enslave me, let's say, an additional 3 1/2 million drakal, in addition to the punishment you're about to receive."

"That's extortion."

"Be grateful I'm considering giving you another chance, tratsch. You're a slave: I don't have to pay you or offer to let you buy your freedom. And you're my slave. My property. My property has no right to attack me, and it's time you learned your place. That's one million for the loss I would have sustained had you succeeded in fleeing. My life is worth at least twice as much as yours, so there's two million for threatening to enslave me, and consider that generous. You attacked me, stripped me, and chained me... that'll cost you half a million. All this brings your total debt to me up to 4 1/2 million drakal."

"Why is your life worth more than mine?"

"Well, I'm a man you see. A man's life is worth more than a woman's. A man is fit for hard work and hard thinking. Most women are good only for art, music, dancing, child-bearing, sex, and domestic affairs such as cooking and cleaning. There's a few who can do more, which is why we don't enslave all women. But most women are like you: useless whipped into place."

"Did you buy me to dance and sing for you and be your personal fuck-pillow, or did you want me to do some serious working and thinking in your engine room?"

"Sure, you're a good engineer, unlike most women. And if you were a man, it would be enough to simply pay you, and there would be no need to whip you!"

"Male slaves are as uncooperative as female slaves."

"More so: it is unnatural to enslave men, who are better encouraged by good pay than by whips."

"Women, too."

"Then why did you betray me after I offered you decent pay?"

"5%? Decent, for such a small crew? You probably pay free people 10% or more."

"I offered to pay you at all, even though you're a slave."

"To be paid back to you as interest on my debt, or, should I earn a goodly amount, still to be paid to you for my living expenses and punishments, and should I earn even more, still to be paid back to you against a principal that is likely to never be paid off. The interest alone will start at 30,000 drakel this month."

"It would have only be 6667 drakel in interest if you had been a good little slave."

"You might remember that when I chained you up, I didn't whip you."

"You speak as if we are equals. You are a slave and I am your master. Slaves are chained up, not masters. Slaves are whipped, not masters."

"And why is that aside from an arbitrary social concept?"

"You couldn't be independent even if you were free! If you did not have a master to take care of you, you would have the Aliketes order take care of you."

"That is only because you were too weak to resist enslavement! Even in the Argus system - you were dancing in Argusian style earlier, right - a woman may be spared slavery if she evades abduction on her 21st birthday."

"So would you have been, hadn't unchained you. And since when did Argusian women ever have a chance to evade abduction! An Argusian woman is drugged with sedatives in her wine during the party on the eve her 21st birthday, led to a bedroom into which she is locked, and typically chained and collared before she even wakes up."

"I am rich! They would have made more money from ransoming me than from selling me. And only a fool would allow herself to be drugged."

"When I was enslaved, my assets were seized. I was not offered a chance to buy my freedom."

"You could have fought harder. In any case, now you are offered a chance to buy your freedom, so you should really make the most of it rather than hitting your benefactor over the head."

"And is this how you mean to treat me until I buy myself, if I ever can? As a sex toy to be humiliated, whipped, beaten, and perhaps fucked?"

"Do you mean to attack me and try to escape every chance you get?"

"Perhaps, after I figure out how to unlock this collar."

"That is why you need punishment, my dear, to show you that escape attempts aren't worth it."

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Well, since you ask, I'm going to warm you up with this whip, and then move on to the knout. We might use the crop too a bit... yes. After a good whipping, you'll get clamps on your nipples and clitoris, and ginger dildos in your vagina and anus. I'll take the clamp off your clitoris, and put a piece of ginger on there instead. A rubber coated chain, lathered in ginger gel, will hold everything in place. You'll be chained in some other position, and if you don't scream at any time, and you are quiet and still enough to let me get a good night's sleep, we won't have to repeat all this tomorrow night."

"Remind me to return the favor if I ever get you in a collar again."

"Extra lashes for that," said Arik as he replaced the blindfold

Using his ordinary whip, he beat her breasts forty times, watching the slave's muscles flex and relax in little jerks. With the knout, he whipped them twenty times, each time bringing another convulsion of her body. He wiped the away the blood, sanitized the area, remove the breast bondage chain, and wrapped bandages around her breasts. Nipple clamps took their place over the bandages, and twice more her body convulsed, but after the second clamp, her muscles remained tensed. He looked at her mouth and saw it was bent into a silent scream.

"Breathe, little tratsch, breathe." He slapped her cheek, but she still didn't appear to breathe.

"Come on!" Now he stroked her cheek gently. "Just relax, inhale, and exhale." Frantically, he pulled the blindfold off, held her head gently with his right hand, and stroked her hair gently with his left. "Breathe now... damn it, Artemis, breathe!"

Her breaths were short at first, but gradually returned to normal as he stroked her hair.

"If you are so concerned," she gasped, "then stop whipping me, and skip the clamps and dildos."

"Your punishment will continue, just breathe, okay? And don't scream. You can whimper... just don't be loud." He kissed her on the forehead and replaced the blindfold.

Again, he he resumed whipping her. Sixty strokes with the ordinary whip on her left ass cheek, then sixty more on her right ass cheek. Then twenty on each with the knout. Her inner thighs were next to be peppered with strokes of the first whip. All in all, each leg got a hundred and twenty lashings from it, the whip moving its way slowly closer to the crotch area. Then each leg got forty lashes from the knout, again slowly moving toward the crotch. Suddenly, he cracked the knout down in between her legs, onto her crotch. Finally, she broke her silence with a small whimper. Nineteen more times he brought it down there, and sometimes it landed on her clit, or fell between the labial lips, bringing an even bigger convulsion and louder whimper. Twenty strikes from the crop each fell perfectly on her clit. The whimpering no longer stopped between strikes. At least she was breathing. He snapped the clamp on over her clit, and stopped for a bit to observe her writhing. Had it not been for all the blood, it might have been beautiful.

Now, the ginger dildos of which Alrik spoke were actually ordinary dildos of some soft, flexible material, smothered in a sort of ginger jelly. The first one was fourteen inches long and four inches wide: this he inserted into her vagina. This finally triggered a cry of pain, which he seemed not to notice. Of course, she struggled wildly, trying to break her ankles free, but the chains held her tightly.

"Now, I did tell you that if you screamed, we'd have to repeat this tomorrow night, didn't I? Well?"

"Yes."

"Is that what you want?"

"If you don't want me to scream, don't put ginger in me, or gag me: either way."

"The first is a no. A gag, maybe. I'll tell you what: I'll gag you, and if you want me to pull the gag out, you can signal me by shaking your head side-to-side three times. If you scream again after that, I'm afraid we'll have to do this all over again.

Into her mouth he inserted a dildo gag, coated in more of the ginger jelly. He heard a scream that grew more muffled as he inserted it in. It was a full six inches long and three inches wide, with the dildo only on the inside. He buckled it behind her head, and proceeded to pull out the next dildo: This one, coated in ginger jelly like the others, was ten inches long but only an inch wide. He inserted this slowly into her anus. The screams were muffled enough that he heard them not. He pressed a button on both the vaginal and anal dildos, causing them to squirt ginger juice into his chained slave. Two more buttons, and they began vibrating in her. She writhed vigorously.

He released her wrists and pulled them behind her. She struggled, but it seemed more of a jerking response the the pain than a conscious effort to stop him. He chained and locked her elbows and wrists tightly together behind her back. The chain he wound around her wrists was very long and coated in rubber. Locking one end in place to hold her wrists together, he pulled he remaining length up between her legs and to the front of her collar. After smearing the part near her crotch area in the ginger jelly, and replacing the clamp on her clitoris with a large piece of ginger, he pulled it tightly and locked it to the front of her collar. She writhed, trying to get some slack so the chain wouldn't press so hard into her clitoris, but succeeded only in pressing the fresh ginger harder against her clit.

He cleansed the blood from her ass, thighs, and pelvic area, and wrapped the area in more bandages. Eating a couple sandwiches, he watched the writhing for awhile. He removed the nipple clamps, and observed the increased jerking as the blood came flowing back to the slave's nipples. He let loose her ankles, only to lock them into a spreader bar, one foot wide. He turned off the light, got into bed with her, and pulled the blankets over them.

He pushed her onto her side so he could spoon with her, and wrapped an arm over her and around her belly. He pulled her tight, trying to keep her still.

"Didn't I tell you to be still while I try to sleep, trix?"

He felt her shake her head from side to side three times. As promised, he removed the gag. "Well?"

"How do you expect me to keep still with those dreadful things vibrating inside me?"

"Perhaps it will teach you not to hit me over the head or try to escape. And you can keep still, or if you don't know how, we can repeat this every night until you learn?"

"Then you mean to torture me every night?"

"Just put the same effort that you are putting into not screaming into not writhing either. I know you can do it." He held her tightly, uttering soft reassurances for about twenty minutes until she finally became still.

"Why did you fake it earlier?"

"There are worse things than being your slave, my master."

"Even after what I just did to you?"

"Yes, my master."

"Such as?" He waited, and after a time, said, "If you do not answer, those clamps will have to go back on your nipples."

"Such as when you are angry at me, at least you punish me by torturing me and not some other slave."

"Why would a torture a different slave for what you did?"

"Some masters do it to guilt trip me into doing their bidding."

"Well, it's hardly fair to the other girl...."

"That's the point."

After some silence, Alrik asked, "How did you become a slave?"

"The police came knocking on the door. I answered. Back then, many of us still trusted the police to protect us. They told me I was being charged with witchcraft. I told them I could prove that I wasn't a witch: I was a devout worshiper of Akiletes. They said I could tell it to the judge, but that if I resisted arrest, I would surely be found guilty. They gave me a hobble and ordered me to put it on myself. Then they told me told me to lie on my stomach and hold my hands behind my back. They chained my wrists and elbows together. They said they were afraid of being bewitched, and they had to put a gag in my mouth. I opened up and they but one of those leather inflatable gags in there. Then one of the police said, 'Aren't we going to search her for tools of magic she might use against us?' So, they began to cut off my clothing with a knife. That's when I started to struggle, but one of them held me down while the other went at it. First, he cut the sleeves off my shirt. After that, he cut off the bottom so my lower torso was exposed. Then, he removed the rest of it, and after that, my bra. They made comments about how big my breasts were, they called me a hure (the word we used instead of trix back then), and they began to play with my breasts. When I thought I couldn't be more humiliated, the police took his knife to my pants. I was already barefoot. Anyway, he cut them up piece by piece, exposing my legs from the bottom up. I loved those pants - black baggy canvas, huge pockets to store my tools."

"What color was your shirt?"

"It was also black. It was loose, cotton, long-sleeved, high neckline. A good work shirt. Anyway, after the pants, he cut off my underwear. I thought that then I had reached the limit of humiliation. Then he said, 'I wonder if she's a virgin,' and jammed his finger into my vagina! I guess he felt my hymen, because he said, 'She is!' Then the other one said, 'Well, we can't have that, can we? The judge would find her innocent if we brought her in like that.' They laid me back on my kitchen tabled, redoing the chains so that my wrists were now chained to two of the table legs. I tried to fight, but each of them had an arm. They adjusted the tightness so my bottom could just stick out a little over the other end of the table, to which they pulled it to. One of them held it there while the other unchained my ankles. They both grabbed a leg, which they pulled outward, so that each leg was parallel to the edge of the tabled. They bent my knees over the edges and attached a new chain to hold my ankles together under the table, and two more chains to hold my lower legs as close to the table legs as possible. There I was, fully exposed, more humiliated than I'd ever been in my life, and I could hardly move an inch. So they took turns raping me, first in my vagina, and then in my anus."

"That's a hell of a way to lose your virginity. Were you shaved back then?"

"No, of course I wasn't shaved! I was an astronomer, not a hure!"

"Relax, hure. I meant no offense. I'm just trying to picture what you were like as a free woman."

"If you mean no offense, why do you persist in calling me tratsch, trix, dawlie, and hure? And if I were a free woman, you would never see my crotch."

"Little dawlie, I call you those things to remind you that you are no longer free, that you are now nothing but property, and that you should act like it."

"And it is not offensive to be regarded as property?"

"It's shouldn't be, to you. It is the natural state of most women. What happened next?"

"Well, they rinsed me off and chained by elbows and wrists back together behind my back. Then they chained my legs together and to by wrists, forming hogtie. They blindfolded me, and carried me all trussed up like that into some sort of vehicle. It must have been a railcar, for the ride was very smooth. I was tossed into a cage at the police station. Many other naked women were also in cages. My trial was later that day. I was not ungagged, unchained, or even pulled out of the cage. They told me that the high priests had decreed that any grown woman who had had sex without marriage and who had not become a nun seeking repentance must be in league with the devil, and therefore a witch. I was not a virgin, I was not married, and I was not a nun: therefore, I must be a witch. The soul of a witch could only be saved by subservience to men, so I was sentenced to a life as a slave."

"But it's not as though you lost your virginity willingly."

"I could hardly point that out to them while gagged."

"That's not really much of a trial."

"Then free me."

"It's not my fault you weren't enslaved justly. I still paid a million drakel for you."

"No, but it is your fault for continuing to carry out their sentence. Unless you believe I am a witch?"

"No, little dawlie, I don't think you are a witch. But I bought you fair and square, hure, and your going to be mine until you've payed me back."

"How much pain and humiliation do you think a million drakel buys you?"

"I do not torture you for pleasure, but to teach you your place as a slave."

"You express sympathy with me for losing my virginity to rape, and yet you shove gigantic ginger dildos in me and set them to vibrate?"

"It's not as though I took your virginity with a ginger dildo."

"Oh, so there are some things you wouldn't do even to property."

"Sure, when the property is alive. I wouldn't beat a dog or cat."

"But you would beat a slave."

"That is the sort of discipline that slaves understand. And unsubservient slave can be a bigger risk to me than a wild dog or cat."

"If I'm so great a risk, free me."

"Or I can chain you up and beat you into submission."

"What makes you think your whip will succeed where others have failed?"

"Because I am also offering you a chance to work as an engineer, which you will enjoy, and because I am offering you a chance at freedom."

"In the meantime, what wouldn't you do to me?"

"Well, I can certainly do more to you with your Immortality modification than I could otherwise. Otherwise, I couldn't whip you so hard and expect you to heal within a week."

"So you won't kill me or cut off my limbs?"

"Dear, if I kill you, you'll be facing me, and you'll be armed. As for cutting off your limbs, I'd rather do something more temporary, like chain them up, and not have to wait god knows how many months for your limbs to grow back."

"But you mean to torture me sexually?"

"I wasn't planning on it, but then you had to go an attack me."

"You certainly had all your torture instruments prepared."

"You do have a history, so I bought them just in case. You know, dear, sometime when you are behaving well, I'll give you the orgasm of your life."

"You would be the first."

"What do you mean?"

"I've never orgasmed before, so if you did that, you would be the first."

"You know, not all sex acts upon a slave are torture. Sex can be enjoyable, even for a slave. Yes, I know you trixes fake it most of the time, but surely a pleased master must have occasionally made the effort to give you a real orgasm."

"I hate sex."

"I'll have to change that."

"And how do you plan to do that?"

"By not having sex with you until you fall in love with me and genuinely beg me to."

"Why would I do a thing like that?"

"Because I can treat you more kindly than all your previous masters have."

"You haven't made a good start of it."

"Are the vibrating dildos still bothering you?"

"They hurt like hell."

"Do you want me to turn them off?"

"Yes."

"Then beg."

"Please, master, will you make these dildos stop vibrating?"

"Beg harder."

"Please, master, have pity on a wretched slave, and stop torturing her with vibrating dildos."

"Beg harder, and promise to never attack me or try to escape again."

"No."

"Then enjoy."

After a period of silence, Alrik asked, "How did you wear your hair when you were free?"

"Long, down, no hairpieces or anything."

"Did you always wear baggy black pants with huge pockets?"

"Not always. Sometimes I wore baggy green pants with huge pockets."

"So they were all baggy pants with huge pockets."

"No. Sometimes they were jeans, or sweatpants, or dress pants."

"But never a dress or a skirt?"

"No. Why all these questions about my appearance?"

"I bet you were even more beautiful as a free woman."

"I received the immortality modification within a week after being enslaved. My body hasn't aged since then."

"Yes, but you would have had pride back then: none of this talk about humiliation."

"What difference does that make?"

"A woman with some pride, not so much as to make her haughty, just enough that she feels good about herself, is more attractive than a woman without pride."

"Perhaps if you didn't rape me with huge vibrating dildos, I might have a little pride."

"Nice try. But perhaps there is hope for you: if you did not have at least a little pride buried deep within you somewhere, you wouldn't be so practiced in the art of not screaming while being tortured."

"And you would not get to go to such lengths for the fun of getting a scream out of me."

"As I said earlier: I didn't torture you for the fun of it. I like that there is a shred of pride in you. I do not think I could put up with a slave who did nothing but plead and grovel and fake orgasms all the time."

"And yet you want to break me and turn me into such a slave."

"I want you to be respectful and subservient as is fitting for a piece of property. I don't want you to lie and fake pleasure and be an absolutely boring tratsch with no spine whatsoever."

"And the difference is?"

"Accept that you are a piece of property and act accordingly, but don't give up your dreams of being free someday, if that is what you want, or pretend to like anything you don't like."

"So you want a cooperative object of torture who doesn't pretend she likes being tortured?"

"No, I want a wife, but since I have a slave instead, my slave should behave like a slave."

"So free me and marry me."

"You'd run away before I could get you to the altar."

"So take my collar off only just before we step into the temple, and keep me chained until I've signed the contract and the ceremonies are complete."

"I don't think that would fulfill all the legal requirements. Marriage is supposed to be voluntary, you know, unlike enslavement."

"Without the collar, I would technically be free."

"I suppose it might work. But why don't you earn my trust first? You could start by not attacking me, or my crew, or my customers, or anyone else aside from my enemies, and not trying to run away."

"Will you marry me then?"

"Perhaps, if I still like you."

"Then I might refrain from attacking you and trying to run away."

"Let the dildos keep vibrating if you like."

They said nothing more until morning. Alrik slept, while his slave concentrated on not screaming and not moving. When it came, Alrik was awakened by his alarm. He hit snooze, and held the woman in front of him tighter. He had been having such a pleasant dream. He leaned over to french kiss the lovely woman by his side. Gently, exploring her mouth with his tongue, he realized that her lips were not soft but caked with blood. Thinking someone had hurt his lady love, he reached to stroke her cheek. On it's way, his hand brushed against her collar, and with a start, he remembered who she was, not his lady love, just some common slave, and he pulled himself away.

"What was that about?"

"I was half asleep and thought you were someone else."

"Who?"

"None of your business."

"If there is someone you care about like that, why would you even think of marrying me?"

"She doesn't exist; she's just the woman of my dreams."

"So for a few moments, you thought I was the woman of your dreams, and then you changed your mind."

"I remembered that you are property. The lady of my dreams is a free woman. Therefore, you cannot be her. Perhaps you might've been, over six hundred years ago, but not now."

"Would you have proposed to me back then?"

"Probably."

"You do realize marriage contracts were not so favorable to men back then? Women and men were equal partners in marriage."

"It wouldn't matter if we loved each other."

"And how would you have wooed me?"

"Perhaps I'll tell you some other time. Keep still." He first removed chain connect her collar to her wrists, then the ginger. After slowly removing the dildos (the anal one first), he tried to direct her to his shower. She collapsed, unable to stand, so he carried her there, and removed her remaining chains and bandages. After undressing himself, he washed away most of the ginger.

"Are you going to stand, or should I just chain you up here for the day?"

She couldn't stand, so instead, sighing, she held up her wrists toward the metal support there, which was meant for a person in the shower to grab onto in the event of turbulence. He left and returned with a few more chains. A manacle clapped over her right wrist, and she was pulled up by it, until her wrist reached the height of the bar. This forced her to stand on her knees. He grabbed her left wrist, and, after looping the two-inch chain between the manacles over the bar, clapped that wrist in the second manacle. After clapping her ankles in metal anklets with another two-inch chain between them, he looked down at the kneeling slave, forced to stand on her knees.

"Well, it's just the right height for me to fuck you in the mouth."

"Yes, master."

"What is it now?"

"Just please get it over with and let me sleep, my master."

He positioned his penis in front of her mouth. "Open."

She immediately opened her mouth wide, and remained still.

"Wow, you must be tired. Come on, then." Changing his mind about leaving her chained in the shower all day, he wound new bandages around her wounds and unchained her again. After carrying her to the bed and helping her get dressed, he put her wrists back in the manacles and her ankles back in the anklets.

He carried her off to the brig, and laid her on the bed he had set in there. For all he could tell, she was asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow, so he tucked her in.

[to be continued]