You Dont Get To Cry Pt 04

"Ooh, I like that," said my mistress. She picked up one of the apples from the merchant's stall.

"The lady likes?" asked the merchant. He was a burly man with a long black beard. He wore a blue shirt and simple brown pants with an ostentatious belt. It was a confusing combination, I had to say. My thief instincts kicked in; I could see how often he was distracted by me, the naked slave, with her hands bound behind her back and a large basket strapped to her. Someone could have stolen fruit without him seeing a thing.

"You like my slave?" asked my mistress, her manner friendly.

"Indeed I do, ma'am," he said, equally as friendly. "She looks quite strong and healthy, like a horse." I didn't like that. I looked down at the ground, trying not to listen to them, trying ot ignore the leash around my neck that my mistress was holding, trying not to take in how he was looking at me and studying my naked, exposed body. "I see she could carry much more than you have given her." He was right. The basket on my back was already somewhat filling up, but it wasn't exactly a burden to me. The weight was more humiliating than anything, making me into a beast of burden.

"Hah! You are right, of course, but you're also describing what makes her beautiful to me. Her mannish haircut and muscles make her very pretty to me. I like what is sometimes called a 'tomboy'." By the gods, that was actually worse! I was just a trophy to this woman, a beautiful piece of art! I felt my body shrivel up under this direct attention. Please, stop looking at me! I just wanted to go back to being a piece of equipment.

----

Wish granted. I was carrying so many bags of fruit and vegetables on my back. It was so heavy! Why must I be a slave? Why was this to be my fate? The weight itself felt shameful, as if I were carrying my failures on my back. I saw people turn their heads and smile at me. They loved this - they

loved

seeing a naked slave, forced to carry her mistress's shopping on her back, unable to cover up!

No. I would not give in. I would

never

give in! This was a difficult time, but I would spot a way out of this mess.

My mistress suddenly stopped, forcing me to stop behind her. "Abigail! Darling!"

"Delilah!" said some woman. She was wearing a long pink robe with a purple bandana over her head, as well as a lot of jewellery. Like, a

lot.

However much you're thinking, it was more. It must have been heavier than the basket I was carrying.

"You look amazing, dearie!" said my mistress. She kissed Delilah on each cheek.

"You do too! I see you've picked yourself up a slave!" Delilah looked over at me, a condescending smirk on her face. I looked down, refusing to make eye contact. "Oh, you've already trained it well! Oh, it's wonderful when you have such stupid creatures that you can just order about."

Stupid?! I was quite clever actually. I was just in a bad situation that was entirely not my own fault. I was infuriated.

"Indeed," said my mistress. "It's been such a convenience. Look at all the fruit and vegetables I can carry now!"

As a matter of fact,

I

was the one carrying them. My rage was building. Focus it! Focus it!

"Yes, yes." She smiled knowingly. She then leaned into my mistress's ear and whispered something. I couldn't quite catch it, but my mistress's eyes widened.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Troubling. Come, slave." She pulled on my leash, choking me slightly. How annoying! She was steady as she moved, forcing me to keep her exact pace despite the heavy, humiliating load I was carrying. What? What was so troubling? I hated this! I hated not being in on the plot! I'm a fantastic thief! I was wasted on this terrible, boring task of carrying vegetables! I tried speeding up.

"Mistress, I could--"

She slapped me before I could even react. "Insolent slave!" Her voice was volcanic and terrifying. I looked at her in shock. "You dare think you can

speak

without

permission?!

" She moved right into my space, putting her hand around my throat. She held me very gently, but it was clear she could tear my throat out if she wanted to. I was terrified. Her voice cut to my very

core!

I had no idea what she would do next. She stared at me for a moment, her gaze fixed upon my eyes. I wanted to look anywhere else, but I dared not. I dared not!

Oh, how I missed home! Oh, how I missed being a thief! I felt so naked, with this finely dressed woman right next to me. Everyone was staring at me. I felt like the smallest, weakest creature in the world. My arms felt so bound. I felt so exposed. At the moment, I am whatever she wants me to be.

I didn't know how to respond.

"Nod your head if you understand how much trouble you're in."

I nodded quickly.

"Nod your head again to say you're sorry."

I nodded! I nodded!

"Good girl." She let me go. She turned and continued walking. "When we return to the cart, you will have the basket taken off you, and then you will receive fifteen hits on the bottom with your paddle. This will be in front of everyone, so that you learn. I will not be seen to have disobedient slaves. You will learn this."

I hung my head. I dreaded that paddle. It would be so humiliating! All the eyes on me were already soul-destroying; to have people see me get them, to be known as nothing more than a lowly slave bent to her mistress's will, would crush me. And, of course, it would hurt. I was walking into a dreaded fate.