Mrs. Yates' Trek

I watched Clem ride off, burdened with all my possessions. It seemed silly, considering what lay ahead of me to shed tears for a passel of pretty little frocks, yet I did. Every dress had memories. One I hadn't even worn yet. I bought it some time ago for when I was reunited with my husband. Now Hamilton would never see me in it.

Devon and Vic consolidated all the baggage into a smaller, more manageable load. What was left of my possessions, such as my ruined suitcase and everything of mine that they considered of no value were cast into a bonfire and turned into ash. I felt completely bereft and hopeless.

"There are good people everywhere," I told myself, "Someone, somewhere will have sympathy for me." I had to cling to that belief. I desperately wanted and needed it to be true.

A few hours later, Clem returned looking very pleased with himself. He pulled a wad of bills from his saddle bag.

"Zebulon was suitably impressed. That fine filly has excellent taste and expensive fashions."

"From riches to rags... or less!" put in Vic. All three men laughed.

"Well, gents," said Devon, "The sweet working women of Junction City, really are hankering for our intentions. Time for us to part with the charming Mrs. Yates and get to tying one on in town."

"Damn right!" replied Vic.

"Don't worry Mrs. Yates, I'll be thinking of you when I stick it into my whore tonight."

He had the audacity to wink as he addressed me! the three of them snickered. I thought it was impossible for me to feel even lower. Moments later my wheeled cage resumed its journey to my fate. We passed the outskirts of what promised to be a large town. Houses sprung up on either side. The civic buildings flew the Southern flag. I knew how these folks viewed my people. It was not compassionately. The Southerners viewed my people as soft and conceited. They prided themselves on not being scholars and preached rugged individualism. They were incredibly gifted farmers and woodsmen. They are also quite mercenary. Selling to both sides in my country's recent conflict was par for the course for them. They became richer while both sides hemorrhaged money and lives. On the one hand, that meant they might be inclined to not treat me well. On the other hand, their innate love of avarice might incline them to seek out Hamilton and ransom me. I had no idea what fate had in store for me. To say I was frightened was an understatement of the first order. My cage continued rolling, bringing me closer to an answer but easing my mind not the least.

The town continued to roll by. I attracted curious stares from the children and women and rude gestures and catcalls from the men. We arrived at the waterfront docks.

"End of the line, lady," announced Clem as he strode into my cage. At dagger point, I was forced to cede my scanty shift. A warm breeze swept over my flesh even as I felt chilled to the bone. My hands were bound behind my back. A gag was forced into my mouth. I found myself before a woman about a decade older than myself, clad head to toe in black silk and leather.

"What have we here?" she asked.

"A new bit of merchandise, Maggie," said Vic.

"And a quite attractive bit at that!" said the woman as she ogled me in a way that was, if possible, worse than that of my foul abductors!

Vic held me fast while this woman ran her hands all over my person, even probing my most intimate areas.

"Take the gag out, I want to assess her teeth."

"You cry out gal, and I'll wallop you," stated Vic just before he removed the gag.

"Open your mouth, girl," commanded the woman.

Out f fear, I did so.

"This one is used to easy living. She'll require lots of training," stated the black-clad woman, "She's pretty enough to sell very high though, despite this."

She removed a pile of Southern banknotes from the satchel she wore about her waist.

"I think this is more than fair."

Vic smiled widely. "You are the best, Maggie!"

"Don't read too much into it, Vic. I like you and am willing to let you bite into my bottom line because of it."

"I've offered to bite you, Maggie."

"Promises, promises! You couldn't handle me, Vic."

"I'm willing to try."

"No, you will always be a man who rents his women, and, unlike this fine dish, I am not for sale. Now get out of here before I change my mind."

She handed the notes to Vic who grinned, slapped me on the posterior, and left.

Maggie watched him stride off before she focused on me.

"What's your name, sweetie?"

"Maria," I answered, "Maria Yates."

"Not anymore, it's not!"

She raised her hand in the air and the largest human being I had ever encountered materialized and saluted.

"Ross, have this one collared and bathed. She goes on the block tomorrow at the prime sale. No liberties with this one! She'll be hard enough for her buyer to train without you sampling my merchandise, again!"

"Yes, Ma'am!" replied the giant.

He picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder like I was a sack of potatoes. I was too startled to react. When I did begin squirming, he slapped me powerfully on the buttocks with his huge palm. That effectively immobilized me. He carried me to a large building with bars on all the windows and doors. I was shivering with fear at this point.

We ended up in a room with a cement floor and a drain. My hands were forced above my head and my wrists were attached to manacles dangling from the ceiling. The bestial man primed a pump, and I was deluged with ice-cold water from a hose. After being doused once, he used a bar of soap and ran it all over my person! I was hosed off a second time before he dried me with a coarse towel. Next, he fastened a leather and metal collar about my neck before freeing my wrists. Immediately, my hands went to the collar and tugged mightily. at it. The accused object refused to budge. The giant laughed. He handed me a comb and ordered,

"Smooth out your, hair."

My body all a tremble, I did so. The beast then attached a leash to my collar and dragged me to another room full of cells. I was tossed in with a collared red-haired young woman. The cell door locked behind me.

"What's your name, gorgeous?"

"Maria, Maria Yates," I answered.

"I'm Connie right now, but that is bound to change tomorrow. Owners like to give their slaves new names. Once upon a time, I was known as Jennifer."

"You seem to be taking this well," I marveled.

"Oh, this is my third go around, honey. My last owner ended up in debtor's prison and they seized his assets, including yours truly."

"What's it like?"

"Being a slave?"

"Yes."

"That depends on your owner, cutie. My last one wasn't so bad. He mostly kept me to himself, though when his finances went bad, he started to pimp me out. That didn't last too long, fortunately. The guy who owned me before that was an obese slovenly jerk. I thought I'd smother every time he climbed atop me!"

"Oh, my lord!" I cried.

"Sorry, sweetie, we're at the bottom now. So long as we swallow every time, spread our legs contritely when asked, and at least act like we are enjoying ourselves, life's not too bad."

"I've only ever been with my husband!"

"Ha! You're open to everybody with a penis now as well as ladies of certain persuasions."

"Oh, my God!"

"Rebelling and fighting it, toots will only make things worse. Training can be relatively painless, but, if they have to call in a professional to get you with the program, watch out! Slave breakers are expensive, and your owner will resent that. Once he gets you back from the breaker, he will take that resentment out on you."

"Slave breaker?"

"Big men who don't take no for an answer and delight in making the most rebellious, high-born woman a contrite, submissive sex toy, via lots of pain, humiliation, and intimidation. I've met slave girls that have been broken. It's not a pretty picture."

"I have a wealthy husband. He will ransom me!"

"Take comfort in that idea if you want, babe. I wouldn't be so confident."

My tears began again. Connie embraced me, held me tight, and startled me by kissing me deeply.

"The first time on the block is the worst, honey. Nothing is quite so bad after that first humiliation. Let's get some sleep. Worrying all night will do you no good."

Connie led me to a thin mattress on the floor. We laid down together. It was strange lying with a woman unclothed, but it was also warm and comforting. Somehow, I drifted off to sleep.

In the morning, I was awakened by a loud siren. Connie's naked form was still wrapped around my own. Her luminous green eyes opened. She yawned, stretched, and stated,

"That's the morning siren indicating that the first sale is in an hour. The first sale is the prime girls which would be you, me, and the rest of the girls in cells in this wing. We'll go to rich folks, or at least folks who have enough money to buy a prime slave. You certainly don't want to be on the block for the later sales, those guys are just scraping by, and their slaves are not treated as well. Those jerks just want a cook and a bed partner, they tend to drink and beat their women, which is why no free woman will sleep with or wed them. Those girls have it really hard."

"I don't want to be a slave, Connie!"

"And how are you going to prevent that from happening, sugarplum?"

"But..."

"I have to pee, you probably do as well. Let's take care of that. I'll braid your hair afterward; make you look even prettier, so you go for top dollar. The same rule applies to us slaves as it does in the outside world of freedom, a rich husband makes for a much happier wife. A rich master is far better than a poorer one, that's just a fact."

My thoughts were a muddle as Connie fussed with my hair. My heart was beating a mile a minute and my breath came in gasps. No sooner had Connie finished with my braids, than the giant Ross and a group of other hulking men entered the room. As soon as Connie and I were led out of the cell, our hands were cuffed behind our backs, chains were applied to our ankles, and, Connie, me, and all the women were formed into a line and our collars linked with chains as well. I am ashamed to admit that I lost control of my bladder as the line of collared and chained women was impelled forward.

We were marched outside to an open area under a fabric roof. There was an elevated area and rows of bleachers. These bleachers were filled with well-dressed men and women, a fact that startled me. That seemed wrong to me. I imagined that only monsters would want to own another human being. But were Devon and his cohorts, men who placed me here, monsters? No. in fact, they were very ordinary. I wanted non-ordinary. I wanted monsters. If there weren't monsters, what hope was there for me? Very large moths were fluttering in my stomach. I wanted to retch, but nothing came. I suppose that is why they didn't feed us breakfast. I was fourth in line, just behind Connie. I could hear the crowd and the droning of the auctioneer, but my view was blocked because both Connie and the woman in front of her were taller than me.

Suddenly, I found myself on the stage. My wrists and ankles were still chained. I could not hide myself. I turned crimson with shame. I was compelled to walk in a small circle while the auctioneer talked so fast, I could barely catch a word. I cared not how much money I was being sold for. My mind was elsewhere. Finally, I heard the words "Sold!" and knew with even more finality that I was no longer a free person.

Maggie, the woman dressed in black, grasped the leash hanging from my collar.

"You should be proud, girl, you've, no doubt, sold for the most any wench will today. My cut will be mighty nice!"

I tried to spit in her direction, but she anticipated my move, evaded my saliva, and chuckled.

"Rebellion? Enjoy your last taste of it! Come meet your new owners."

She took a key out of her satchel and freed my ankles and wrists.

"You can keep the collar," she said mockingly while I massaged my wrists.

"Don't even think of running. You won't escape and when you are inevitably captured, I let my little man Ross do whatever he wants to you."

She continued to grasp my collar. She tugged me into a side room. I was stunned to encounter what was obviously a family unit. There was a tall man in prosperous business attire, a woman at least a decade older than me, yet remarkably well-preserved, brown-haired, compact. The third figure was a lad about Devon's age. His features were an attractive meld of both. I hastily shielded myself with my hands.

The woman was first to speak. She produced a short robe from her satchel and said, "Put this on, girl."

I hastened to cover myself. The robe was short enough to leave most of my legs bare but hid me well from the waist up. The man spoke next.

"I am Henry Opel. This is my wife, Noreen, and my son, Clark. You shall address us as Master, Mistress, and Sir respectively."

I looked up at them dumbly, not quite believing what was going on, despite everything.

"We have a long drive ahead of us, fair one. Come."

He took my left hand and led me out of that accursed building and out into the light of day. I heard birdsong and smelled fresh cut grass, reminders of freedom, and pleasant memories as I was led to a seat in an ornate carriage. The husband and wife sat on either side of me even though the seat was not really wide enough. The lad sat across from me, his brown eyes devouring every part of me. I clamped my thighs tightly together and adjusted my robe as best I could.

"She sure is pretty, Pa!"

"Why wouldn't she be? Only the best for the Opel family." Both wife and husband placed a hand on my thigh and gently squeezed. I wanted to shrink away, but there was no place to escape to!

"Dear, I imagine she's hungry. Clark be a dear and break out the wine and bread."

The young man opened a basket on the seat next to him. Four goblets of wine were filled and distributed. Clark sliced off bread and coated it with butter and honey. First, he served his mother. Then he served his father. He served himself a slice. Only then did he deign to provide me with sustenance? I'm ashamed to say, I was so famished, I belted down the bread and slurped the wine.

"Easy girl," cautioned the wife, "even though you are little more than an animal, you can at least pretend to be civilized."

Those words made me freeze. I had to earn this family's trust if I was to confide in them about Hamilton.

"I'm sorry, Mistress," I replied as hastily pulled myself together. I strove to eat in a ladylike manner.

"That's more like it, girl," replied the wife. "Hopefully, you will be easy to train."

I remained silent. I needed an appropriate window to petition these people to ransom me. If they thought well of me before I asked, so much the better.

The four of us, husband wife, son, and me ate in silence the rest of the drive. There wasn't even the genial banter one would expect of a family. It was also obvious that every eye was assessing and evaluating me. It was most disconcerting.

The silence eventually got the better of me. I turned and faced Mr. Opel.

"Sir, my name is Maria Yeats. I was journeying to be reunited with my husband when I was abducted. My husband, Hamilton is an officer in the Eastern Republic. I am positive that he will pay you handsomely for ransoming me."

Mr. Henry Opel's passive face turned to anger.

"Woman. I care nothing about your past! I purchased you as part of my future. Do you have any idea how much money I have already invested in you? Would a mere officer in an army afford to not only pay what I have but to include twice again that money so that could purchase another slave as lovely as you?"

My mouth opened and closed like a stuck fish for a moment.

"But f he paid you what you spent..."

"Silence! I will not be lectured about finances by mere property. If you ever attempt this line of conservation again, I shall string you up naked and horsewhip you."

I closed my eyes, bowed my head, and flushed all over. I was too numb t even sob.

"At least she's experienced in that area, Henry," put in the wife, Noreen, she'll be easier to train her for what we need her for. When we get home dearest, turn her over to me. You know how persuasive I can be."

The husband's face lost its anger. His eyes roved over my mostly unconcealed figure with an intense gleam that chilled me to the bone. Any illusions I had, if I had had them, that all I would be asked to do was to cook and clean evaporated like steam from a kettle. I had made my bid for freedom too soon and now I could never state it again! Oh, why hadn't I waited? I did not need a wizard to see my future. I was going to be irrevocably sullied. Would Hamilton even want me back after that occurred?

Very soon thereafter, the expensive coach rolled to a stop on the driveway of a huge manor house. The abundant fields were tended by shirtless men under the supervision of fully dressed men. The house itself was beautiful with lovely flower gardens and a neatly manicured lawn. I noted a stone wall taller than myself surrounding much of the property. It would be exceedingly difficult for me to escape once I was through that thick oaken front door.

"Come, girl," said the wife as she stood and grasped my hand.

"Susan and I will take charge of her for now, honey. I'll give her the lay of the land."

"If she gives you any trouble..."

"I know, you're just a yell away. I think I can handle this one easily."

The father and son exited the carriage. The wife led me out. The sun was bright, the air fragrant with flowers. It reminded me of Eden. I looked at my "owners" and realized that this Eden was already occupied by serpents!

We strode towards the house as the carriage pulled away. I found myself beyond the vestibule. A lovely, dark-haired woman greeted us.

"Oh, mother! She is lovely!"

"Yes, we all quite fancy her, Susan."

The girl's eyes moved from me to Mr. Opel.

"Father, why could I not attend the auction? I really would have liked to see that."

"As I've explained sugarplum, slave auctions are no place for an impressionable young woman."

"But Clark got to go and he's younger than me! Mother was permitted to go."

"Your brother is a young man. He will be buying slaves of his own in a few years. He needs to understand the process. Your mother went because she had the final say over my purchase and because all the slaves sold that time-of-day are female. Believe me, if it had been a male slave auction, your mother would not have been permitted to be within ten kilometers of the auction house."

The was a short silence before the wife spoke once more, "Susan, can you assist me? We need to get our new slave prepared and attired."

"I'd be happy to, mother."

She turned to her husband, "You and the boy do some man things on the grounds or elsewhere."

"Right-O. Come on son, let's see if we can rustle up a pheasant or two for dinner."

The boy seemed to take his eyes off me reluctantly as he said, "Sure, Pa!"

The two of them headed off.

Mrs. Opel watched them stride away before grasping the ring of my collar and pulling me along behind her, "This way slave."

Our journey ended up a flight of stairs in what was obviously a spare bedroom currently being used for dressmaking and the like.

"Lose the robe." commanded the Mrs. I swallowed deeply and complied.

"Susan, grab the tape and get her measurements. Write them down."

The girl measured me with the aplomb of an experienced seamstress. This at least was a bit of normality in my now chaotic world. It did not take long for the girl to finish. I heard water running. I was led to a steaming tub in an adjacent room.

"Get in, silly!"

I settled myself in the tub. Both mother and daughter proceeded to wash me everywhere. The braids were undone from my hair and that was washed along with the rest of me. It wasn't so bad. I felt uneasy, however, as though another shoe, indeed an entire shoe store was about to drop.