You Dont Get To Cry Pt 03

You know, the funny thing is, I wasn't even tired. I was just bored and uncomfortable. I was naked and my wrists were tied behind my back. I had leather straps around me that were attached to a small cart, and I had a gag tied around my mouth. It was a strange thing; it sort of clipped over my mouth completely, like a muzzle, and it had a ball in it that kept my mouth slightly open. It also felt like a constant intrusion into my body.

I was standing by as a labourer chopped a big pile of wood. He would stack it onto a tree trunk and then bring his axe down on it, splitting it in half, then split that half into quarters, then put the pieces in my cart. The sun was beating down on my naked body; we were right at the start of summer. I felt the grass under my feet, which were still a bit sore from stepping on spiky plants.

It was mind-numbing, being a slave. I'd been standing out here in the sun for what felt like hours, watching this guy chop wood while I did nothing. I was being driven mad, being stuck in my own head, not even able to say anything. He was infuriatingly silent, just going about his work. Somehow, this is what made me feel like some kind of farm animal; a silent bag of meat that had to stay still and quiet for long periods until needed.

----

I was pulling the cart full of wood, fuelled by rage for the labour I was made to do. I could feel the humiliation deep within my muscles; they strained against the weight of the cart, screaming at me that what I was doing was wrong. I felt the air on my naked body, revealing all of me to the world, knowing I was supposed to be clothed! I looked at the man walking in front of me, holding a leash that was around my neck. I looked at the whip on his belt and down at the chains around my ankles - long enough to let me walk, not long enough to let me run, and painful around my ankles regardless. I told my body: not yet.

"Whoa, girl!" said the man. I stopped. Another man, dressed similarly, was coming the other way.

"Hey, Ted!" he said. "Oh wow, you got a slave doing your work for you?"

"Nah, Roddy, that's the boss's slave. She bought this young thing at the market. But yes, she has eased the word by tenfold."

I looked down at the ground. I hated this! Hate hate hate. I hated being spoken about like I was too dumb to respond; hated being naked and on display for some strange man.

"Wow, she's shy," said Roddy. "But she's very beautiful. She looks strong and muscular, and that's a great pair of tits on her."

"I know! It's fantastic having that view while I work. She's already starting to tan."

What? I looked at my body, suddenly selfconscious. How different did my skin look? It didn't look that much more brown. I looked at my breasts. They'd never really been that big. I felt like I was being graded like meat. Oh, how I hated this! How I felt a white-hot fury at my freedom stripped away! My dignity! Every second of my day was another humiliation!

I missed being a thief. I missed breaking into people's houses, silently taking their stuff, and fleeing into the night. I missed feeling powerful, and tough, and like I could do whatever I wanted. I was weighed down by longing. I wanted to be free of this constant, humiliating nightmare.

----

I was chained by the neck to a large pole, with my arms tied behind it. This is where they kept me when I had nothing specific to do. It was my least favourite part of the day; bored, boring, bouncing around my own head. Then I saw her coming: my owner. She wore silver robes with a dark silver corset over it, and her blonde hair was tied back in a simple ponytail. She walked with terrifying purpose, like a shark chasing down its meal. And she was looking at me.

I wanted to hate her, but honestly, more than anything, she terrified me.

"Richard," she said to the bodyguard trailing her. "Undo my slave's binds and bring her with me. I want to go into town for the market."

"Yes, ma'am." He was burly and muscular. In another life, I would have been attracted to him. He undid my binds - first the next, then my wrists - and then twisted my arms so I was helpless in his power. He then frogmarched me to the shed.

----

I was in the market, strapped to my owner's cart, my arms once again tied behind my back. She was sitting in it like royalty with Richard walking next to her, and I was pulling it like a horse. I could see all the people looking at me; awed by my mistress's power, that she could have a lowly naked slave carrying her. I felt so small and pathetic. They would have been watching my breasts bounce and my ass jiggle as I ran.

She pulled the reins back, choking me slightly. "Slave! Pull over here." I turned slightly, resting on the side of the road. She climbed out; Richard unstrapped me, leaving my wrists bound. She then brought over a big basket and strapped it over my back and tied a leash around my neck.

"Come, slave," she said, patting my bare bottom. "Let's go vegetable shopping."