Fresh Meat 04 : the Carrier Slave

CRACK!

The whip fall, the men grunt in pain, and the convoy sets off. Leaning against a wall in the main square, I watch another piece of the city's treasures leaving. Since the invasion of the Imperial Guard, my people have been starving in cages, and the Masters have been plundering everything of value to them... The Masters quickly made us understand that human merchandise was less important to them than material wealth. A five-hundred-year-old vase will always be more vital to the prestige of the Empire than the life of a slave. Slaves are replaceable, art objects are not.

CRACK!

The whip fall, the pause ends, a Master leads us to an umpteenth villa to be emptied. We move forward, me and my labor sisters, completely naked. We haven't been branded, we're not chained... We're just sweaty beasts of burden, our breasts hanging and bouncing with each trotting step. Because the Masters make us trot, they like to humiliate us, to animalize us. They like to see us sweat, moan and fall to all fours when we're exhausted. The Masters are on horseback, proud to look down on us from above, so they can whip our offered backs more easily... And our butts too.

CRACK!

This one's on me... one more. I pick up the pace. My back hurts, but there's no trace of a blow. The Masters know what they're doing. They motivate us with light whips, weapons that hurt but leave no marks. The Masters want to keep us intact, for the auction, for our beauty, and for their pleasure.

CRACK!

A blonde in front of me falls unconscious. The lash was too strong, and hunger torments us every second. I walk past her without looking, too busy being careful where I step. The cobblestones are incandescent, but there are also shards of glass and debris that haven't been collected since the battle. A simple splinter on one of my toes would be enough to trip me... And the Masters would take me back to my cage to replace me with another less clumsy girl.

A girl... Always a girl... There are hardly any men left... My husband died in battle, and most of the others have already been branded, shackled and swallowed up by the desert.

CRACK!

We go from street to street. The hubbub of the great square is always deafening, even from so far away. My people are slowly being scattered to the four corners of the Empire. My city will become a transit point for slavers. I keep running, naked. My breasts jiggle with every step. The Masters love this entertainment. Naked women waddling under the sun. Beautiful buttocks that they can hit, bite, pinch and grope to their heart's content. My mouth, my breasts, my pussy, it's all theirs. In the streets, there are still corpses, naked men and women, humiliated one last time before being murdered. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of a girl being sodomized by a Master in a dark alley. Further on, a shackled brunette cleans the stoop of a house on all fours. I know this woman, we used to be friends... This is her stoop, her house, now occupied by a platoon of Imperial Guards. I notice red marks on her arched back... Her house is now her prison.

CRACK!

We finally arrive at the villa. The building is large, with a courtyard in front of the door. Everything is burnt: trees, gardens... The fountains are destroyed. Amidst the rubble, other slaves, still women, naked like the others, pile up valuables: vases, gildings, furniture, tapestries, clothes... everything that didn't burn. And without even looking at us or talking to us, our two groups set about their task. Baskets are already ready. We fill them, carry them on our backs, and set off again for the entrance to the town. A carriage will be waiting for us, we'll fill it up, then head off again. The streets are still too rough for convoys, so the Masters use us to transport our treasures to their Capital. Soon, there'll be nothing of value here except human meat... I don't know what the Masters will do with us then.

CRACK!

We walk as fast as we can, the Masters don't making us run, at the risk of breaking things. We walk in a line, the cobblestones burning our feet... My feet are black, my hands covered in soot. My hair is dusty. But fortunately my skin is not scarred by the whip... I still have a minimum of value in the eyes of the Masters... For I know, a single red stripe on my back would be enough to soil my body, and I'd be back in my cage... Rumors have it that the Masters whip one girl in fifty with a hard whip. One chance in fifty to go from city slave to mine whore.

CRACK!

Fortunately, the lash isn't for me. I'm lucky, my basket is light, filled with clothes : dresses and tunics. The woman who wore them must be locked in a cage right now... Or perhaps she serves the Masters elsewhere? Many noblewomen have been selected to become sex slaves, trophies for the warlord and his officers. Soon, these dresses will be worn by wealthy aristocrats of the Capital, perverse women who spend their days admiring their slaves serving them, naked and in chains, and satisfying their every desire. If I have to choose, I'd rather be a mule than a sex slave.

CRACK!

The whip blows into my chest. Phew, it's a light whip, there's no mark. We reach the main square once again. The cages are still full of women begging the Masters. Slavers grope the merchandise. Some women are chained, others branded... At the back of the stage, the Queen is still tied by the arms, forced to watch in horror as her people are enslaved. Like others, I was forced to lick her feet. She decided my fate. I was condemned to help rebuild the wall, but the Queen decided I'd be more useful to plunder her own city... Thank you Majesty, thank you for sending me on a less exhausting task. At the top of the walls, which protect me from the sun for a while, I see women carrying heavy bricks. I could never have kept up. I'd have fainted, and the Masters would have thrown my body over the wall to set an example.

CRACK!

The lash comes from further away, a scream rings out. It's a girl hanging by her feet in the middle of the square. A slave who tried to escape, I think. I pray I don't end up where she is. I place my basket in the carriage at the entrance to the town. Like the others, the hitch is made up of sweaty men. Captives brought back from raids on desert villages, and also from nomadic tribes. Their wives too must be crammed into the cages like animals. I stand with my labor sisters against the wall and wait for the order to leave. We'll probably spend the whole afternoon bringing everything back from the villa. And of course it's our fault if we don't finish the job on time. A master comes to pick me up, and I get scared. He pulls me by the arm and I follow him while trembling. I scrape my feet against a piece of glass on the pavement... Please, not the cage.

I'm taken to a tent near the main square. The Master throws me to the ground, my head hitting the carpet. I remain prostrate, trembling, miserable. I can hear the Masters talking around me. I feel so humiliated... I've let them down, I've been a bad slave... I'll end up in the mines, I know it... I can already see myself pushing carts through dark galleries, my body covered in filth, sleeping in my own piss and licking the guards' balls for a few drops of water.

As I listen to the guards, I realize that they're interested in my flesh. I hear them talking about my motivation, my obedience, my beauty. I try to calm my trance-like body and listen more carefully. The Masters talk of looting, of treasures hidden in the city. They want skilled slaves who know the city to help them find what my people have hidden. And it's always huddled on the floor, sweating, that I go from carrier slave to auxiliary slave. Thank you Master... On my knees, thighs spread, my pussy offered, hands on my head, I swear allegiance to this man of the Empire. I'm not yet branded or chained. Everything will depend on my obedience and skills. I understand that if I want to avoid returning to my cage, I'll have to do everything to satisfy this man. My body will belong to him. Still shaking, naked at his feet, I become his sex slave.

That same evening, I'm thrown into a barracks with the other girls. There are bunks, food, water, room for everyone. The gruel is not bad. I'm even lucky enough to be chosen by my new Master to wait on him at table. I'll stay by his side for hours, letting him touch me, feel me, compliment me like a good dog. Then, at dessert, I'll reach under the table to take my reward. I'll suck his cock like the good slave I am. I'll lick his balls, swallow his semen again and again. I'll be his whore, and more. I'll be his personal slut, whatever he wants... As long as I don't go back to the cages... As long as he doesn't whip me too hard.

And later that night, I'll fall asleep at the foot of his bed after he's fucked me several times. I won't even think of escaping... There's no escaping the Masters. When I close my eyes, I'll no longer hear the cries of the slaves in the Great Square, nor the pleas of the tortured prisoners in the dungeons. Soon, I'll serve the Empire by offering the hidden treasures of my city... And I'll become my Master's favorite.