Fresh Meat 01 : the Queen Slave

Splash!

- Get up, you lazy slut!

The icy water jolts me awake. No sooner had I started waddling and screaming than the guard slapped me across the face. Drops of piss and sewage drip down my body.

Naked, bound by the arms, my wrists reddened by the irons, I have to shake my head to move my dirty hair away from my eyes. Barely awake, I'm already exhausted, standing in the same position for three days... since my city fell.

We thought we were safe, in the southern desert, far from the tumult of the Civil War. We thought that by remaining neutral, the Imperial Guard would leave us alone. But when the first emissaries arrived and ordered us to submit to the Empire, to let the army settle in our town, and to pay for our freedom by offering our women as slaves, then we understood that we too were condemned to live in chains.

My husband did everything he could to save us. He wanted to negotiate, he even went to the Capital to defend our cause... And he never came back. Instead, the imperial guards arrived. They besieged us and left us to starve behind our walls. And it was under a boiling sun that I prostrated myself at the feet of the Masters, and sold my people to the slavers. I voluntarily stripped naked before the Masters. I offered them my life, my body, my obedience... And they threw sand in my face and went off to plunder the city.

For the past three days, I've been chained to the platform in the city's main square. People used to come here to meet, discuss and negotiate. There were huge stalls, the biggest market in the southern cities. We were a major trading point, and all the caravans passed through here. For three days now, only one resource has been sold in the square : human meat.

My city has become the transit point for all slave caravans from the south. Every day, the guards wake me up with slaps and buckets of filthy water. They force me to contemplate my humiliated people. I see men and women, naked, chained, sweating under the sun. I see them being beaten, I hear them crying out. And the Masters laugh, howl in anger, and drop the whip on the trembling bodies of my people.

In the main square, dozens of cages have been set up, men and women parked like animals, awaiting their fate. I see them being pulled by the hair and thrown onto the platform. And as they inspect the merchandise, the Masters take sadistic pleasure in inflicting pain. Most of the men are emasculated, animalized, before being sent to mines at the other side of the desert. And for the women... Please... Masters... I beg you... I'll do whatever you want, but please stop torturing my people.

Women... Women are the real meat of the market. They're naked, sweating, I can see the tears in their eyes, the terror... Sometimes, a guard will pick up a girl at random, grab her by the hair and throw her at my feet. And still forced to keep my eyes open, I watch in disgust this naked woman on all fours licking my dirty feet. I feel her tongue running along my soles, my toes entering her mouth. The slave's tongue washes my feet before running up my trembling legs. I hear the slave call me "your majesty", "my queen", I remain the Mistress of this city... And the guards take pleasure in letting me stand on the platform admiring the human cattle that my people have become.

Later, a guard brings me another girl. This time, the slave has to rub herself against me. I feel her breasts against mine. She grips my hips, kisses me, whispers sweet nothings in my ear to reassure me. My body is boiling, the slave runs her fingers between my legs, penetrates me while nibbling my ear. And for long minutes, I let myself be fingered, helpless. Completely submissive, I let myself hang by my arms while the slave titillates my clitoris. I sigh with pleasure... The pleasure of being a slave... I'm ashamed. And without any gentleness, the guard takes the girl back to her cage... Two hours later, she'll be chained, branded and sent to a brothel far from here.

As the day goes by, the men and women scream incessantly as they are chained and branded. By nightfall, the cages are still full. The Masters bring back all the captives of the region, picked in the desert, in the oases, and sometimes from much further afield, across the seas. And I remain chained to the platform, alone. I fall asleep hearing the cries and prayers around me, and in the distance the screams of the convicts.

My arms ache after three days of hanging there like a piece of meat.

Meat, that's what we are now. Animals fit for the slaughterhouse, animals that our Masters can buy, humiliate, mutilate and rape at will. And I'm left standing, hanging by my arms, naked, covered in piss. The fallen queen, waiting for death to set her free...

Tomorrow, the nightmare will start all over again.