Abroad Ch. 15

The next morning Anne received a new assignment.

She would pull the ore carts at the mine today in place of the mule.

After feeding and watering Anne, Dora led her outside to wait. Presently Tamara, the commander's young mistress, appeared in a red bodysuit. Dora handed her a bamboo whip.

Anne grew apprehensive at the sight. The young woman had an unsavory reputation.

Dora passed the end of Anne's leash to her, and the two set off up the narrow path to the mines. Now and then Tamara flicked Anne's rear with the whip, "just practicing" as she said.

Anne reminded herself she needed discipline to subdue her independent spirit. This would be good for her, and perhaps the miners would enjoy her company. She looked forward to serving them.

After a half hour of climbing they reached the mine entrance. At the head of the narrow-gauge railroad a dozen iron carts waited filled with ore. The foreman greeted them after a long appraisal of Anne; yes, she would have two tasks today.

He explained the first. The cars were to be taken down the hill to the station below where they would be put on transports. Then the empty cars had to be carried back up into the mine tunnel for filling.

At first Anne did not understand her role in the downhill journey; he explained.

Her hands would be freed; she would pull the train forward to the start of the slope, and then act as a brake against its running away.

If she failed she would be run over by the cars. That is what happened to the mule; it survived the accident but was no longer serviceable and had to be shot. The same applied to her.

Anne swallowed hard and thanked him. Without further ceremony, Tamara released her bracelets, wrapped the leash around her neck and led her over to the lead car.

Anne pulled on it; immensely heavy but well oiled it began to move. Walking backwards, unable to see where she was going, she towed it to the edge of the level run, and beyond.

It began to roll downhill and she pushed with her arms to slow it down. That was not enough, it continued to gain momentum. She pressed her body against the front car; striving with all her might she brought it under control.

Just then a sharp blow on her buttocks with the whip made her jump and the train started to roll again. Anne heard Tamara laugh.

She recovered and slowed the train, mindful of Tamara's whip. At least she would not be caught unawares a second time.

They proceeded down the hillside for an hour or more, occasionally reaching a level shelf where Anne pulled the train to keep it moving; then downhill again where she had to brake it while ignoring the occasional strokes of Tamara's whip.

They grew heavier and more accurate. She was going to show red marks on her haunches tonight.

Finally they came to the station. She pulled the cars onto the loading strip and Tamara held a water bottle to her lips. She was grateful for the refreshment; it had been a hot and sweaty job. She knelt and kissed the woman's red shoes.

Fifteen minutes later, the empty cars were ready to be carried up to the mine. Tamara fastened her bracelets behind her and put her in an iron harness.

They set out on the return journey. The climb was hard on legs unused to this exercise but she managed somehow. The slow monotonous ascent gave her time to think between applications of the whip.

In her former life as a junior executive, a young professional seated in her office behind a mahogany desk advising clients and partying in the evening, she would never have been up to this sort of hard labor.

In time the soldiers or the commander would tire of her services as a whore. Perhaps instead of executing her they would put her to hauling the ore carts. She ate less than a mule and she was good for other uses.

Sustained by this hope she redoubled her efforts. Tamara even said "Good girl" and gave her a light flick on her thighs.

When they reached the mine, the foreman pointed to the entrance. Anne was to pull the cars inside the tunnel. She obeyed - it was level and not too hard - until she reached the end of the tracks deep within.

Anne viewed the space by the dim light of a few lamps. A low ceiling, barely enough to stand in, and the rocky floor covered with black grit.

And a dozen men waiting to use her.

She lay on her back for the first one. The sharp gravel of the cave floor stung her whip-scarred buttocks but she ignored it and opened her legs wide, happy to bring some joy into the lives of these workingmen.

The next group wanted her rear. Bending her over a large rock, they laughed at the sight of her marks and plucked bits of gravel from it before penetrating the narrow entrance.

A man slapped her tender bottom and she squealed. He laughed and did it again. Then he took her.

She was covered with dirt from the tunnel floor and stripes from the whip, but worse was in store. A third group wanted her mouth; she knelt before them as the first one opened his pants and drew out his member.

The smell was dreadful - he had plainly not bathed for days or weeks - but she stifled her revulsion and took it up.

She wished her co-workers back at the office could see her now. Or her wealthy second owner, in whose elegant library draped over the back of a leather sofa she served venture capitalists and government officials.

She concentrated on pleasing the man and he rose quickly, filling her mouth with his seed in a minute.

The second one lowered his trousers and ordered her to lick the hairy sack beneath his already stiffened member. She complied at once, hoping it would not set him off and make him angry.

The wrinkled skin was covered with grit and dried sticky sweat, but her job was to obey and she set to work. That seemed to relax him; the fear being shot in the face with his seed abated. She licked as much of whatever covered the surface as she could, coating her tongue and the roof of her mouth with sand and salt and hair before taking up the extended organ.

This was degradation of a sort she had never experienced; she wondered that no one at the training academy thought of it.

She licked the member as she had the sack, taking up more hairs and dirt, and soon he was ready. She prolonged his pleasure for a few seconds until he could stand no more and came violently, nearly gagging her with the volume of his glutinous seed, much thicker than the last man's.

The third man was cleaner. She glanced up and saw it was the foreman. He was slow to rise, but when he came in her it went on and on, she wondered when it would stop.

Finally they were done with her. She kissed the muddy ground in front of them and thanked them all; she hoped she would be allowed to serve them again. They laughed and said they hoped so too.

The foreman led her outside where Tamara was waiting for her. She leashed Anne and led her down the hillside to her hut where Dora awaited them.

By now Anne was desperate for water; she got none since midday and the inside of her mouth was a sewer from the miners' discharges.

Dora poured a bowl for her and she waited for permission to drink from it, then lapped it up so eagerly that Dora pulled on her leash and told her to act more ladylike.

She drank more slowly. That was good; it revived each of the tastes she experienced and loosened the hairs stuck in her teeth. She had experienced a degree of abasement she would long remember.

She needed this; it held a kind of strange beauty for her that her soul craved.

She savored the tastes of the three men's seed, all different. The first one's was tart, almost sour, and thin. The second was richer somehow. She wondered if licking him beforehand improved it; maybe another man would let her try and she could see.

The third one, the foreman, had flavors she could not identify. A touch of sweetness even, that lingered on the tongue. He probably had a better diet than his men.

She heard Tamara speaking and looked up. The young woman wondered if Dora could teach her how to use the whip.

Dora had been a trainer at an academy like the one where Anne learned submission and obedience; she would be happy to instruct Tamara. They agreed to begin tomorrow.

They set a time and Tamara left. Dora fetched Anne's porridge bowl and fed her. The flavors of the men and the thick gruel mingled in her mouth; it was wonderful, she was to be envied, she was in heaven.

She lay down to rest on the floor of the hut. Tamara's stripes stung but she was used to that and dropped off at once; it had been a long day.