Abroad Ch. 25

That afternoon Leon took Anne and Rae back to the girl park. Rae pointed to the ground and Anne lay on her back. They copulated on the grass, just like old times in front of Mr. Jones' whorehouse.

Anne lay panting from the exercise afterwards; she opened her eyes to see a circle of girls above her. Rae nodded and the first one took her, followed by the others. Afterwards they sat and talked, with Anne still on her back in the center.

They played idly with the hollows and hills of her body, caressing and squeezing her as they talked, dipping into a wet place and drawing circles on her like finger paint while she held her mouth shut and made little sounds that escaped through her nose.

They knew about Conchita and Cara; some were taken to the arena that day by their masters and thought the performances went off very nicely. They hoped to do as well at their own.

The owner of the two was a retired librarian, a kindly older gentleman. He inherited them from his aunt who died in mysterious circumstances at a ladies' brothel. He let them choose the manner of their termination; everyone agreed that was a very thoughtful gesture, so like him.

He lived with his sister and invited her to decide where they should go afterwards; she pinched and prodded each of the girls and measured them with her hands before selecting Cara - more tender - for a tribe in the hills.

Conchita would go to the carnivores at the city zoo. She was a little put out at this; but Oscar told her how much the animals would benefit and she brightened.

At the arena, Conchita asked to kiss the knife when the executioner raised it and he let her. A very poignant moment, they thought.

Cara was next; she asked to be hanged, to remain whole for the tribe. She wriggled for a while after the drop. It looked as if she was making love, the crowd liked that and some even applauded. After it stopped a cart carried her away.

A beautiful ceremony, someone said. The ultimate form of submission and the two girls' last gift to the world.

Or next to last; neither of them went to waste. The tigers dined well and the tribal feast was a success.

Marisa, a young girl with only a few marks of the whip on her slender body, listened to the tale with her eyes wide. A trader had just sold her to a brothel and she saw her own future unfold in the story.

Rae patted her on the thigh and said not to worry, there was not enough meat on her yet. They all laughed at this.

They discussed their own futures. Ramona was a generously proportioned girl at a high-class "establishment" that catered to wealthy men with exotic tastes. She had seen some good times there, but she sensed they were coming to an end. She would probably be sold to a workingmen's brothel in the city until she was worn out and then to a tribe.

Marisa wondered aloud what it was like to be gutted for roasting. No one responded.

Anne could tell her. She had come the closest, hung by her heels from a barn roof like a pig, with the offal tub below her head to catch the "innards" when she was opened. She still bore a shallow line down her belly to guide Francesca's big knife.

It was one of the most intense experiences of her life. A rustic sacrament, a farmers' ritual as holy in its way as the priestess Sofia giving herself to the god of the underworld on his dark altar.

She envied Sofia; they were sisters, like the streetwalkers she saw in the barrio. Anne smiled at the thought. But she did not know if she was allowed to speak to this group or was just a kind of dumb pet for them.

Irene wore a black ribbon and was to be "done" soon, but the waiting list was filled for the next several weeks. Owners were culling their herds to make room for the summer auctions and the arena accepted no more than two girls a day. Though sometimes a vacancy occurred and you could be moved up.

She was anxious over the uncertainty, and the others made an effort to comfort her. Her last days would pass quickly enough and a date set that she could rely on. She smiled wanly and thanked them.

Leon arrived, leashed Anne and Rae, and took his girls back to their underground cell. Anne lay on her back as soon as he turned out the light.

Something energized Rae that night; perhaps the stories at the park. She took Anne with unusual vigor until her girl was cross-eyed and brainless, then rolled off her and went promptly to sleep.

The next morning they were fed, taken from their cell and loaded into a cage on a flatbed truck.

Once again they stood to watch the city pass by and be viewed by its people. Rae put her arm around Anne's waist and they savored the experience with their bare hips touching, together for perhaps the last time.

At the airport they were greeted by a guard holding a third girl on a leash. Anne exclaimed when she recognized Millicent, the little ex-nun and whore from Mr. Jones' brothel. He put her in the cage as well, and it was winched into the belly of the cargo plane.

The three girls kissed each other in greeting. Millicent explained that Georges had tired of her in bed and was sending her to work in his kitchen. If she did not work out there, well... And he thought their group would make a nice threesome on the flight.

"We'll find out," said Rae drily.

The plane was scarcely in the air before Anne was on the floor of the cage, its wires pressing into her back while the other two did her. Millicent stroked her breasts for a minute or two and watched the nipples stiffen before putting her mouth to Anne's and joining their tongues; while Rae crept up the inside of her thighs and tugged at the steel ring between them before exploring the interior.

Anne gave in to them at once, sighing and moaning for she did not know how long. At the end she was soaking wet and did not think she could stand.

* * * * * * * * * *

At their destination, the three waited on the runway as a van arrived for Rae and Millicent. A guard bound their hands and loaded them into it before they were able to wave goodbye to Anne or even speak.

She stood alone, her leash held by an attendant. After a moment he began to pet her breasts like Millicent; she smiled at him and her nipples responded as before. He was beginning to explore her belly when Thomas arrived in a car to take her away.

He put her in the back seat and drove to the brothel, then led her down to the basement. They passed Francesca in the hallway; she displayed no sign of emotion at Anne's return.

Anne was disappointed, but dared to hope. Her owner admitted to having "feelings" for her still; and Thomas approved, even encouraged them. She stood a little straighter and marched briskly into her cell.

Water and feed bowls had been set out for her, half-filled lest she overindulge after her long fast on the plane.

She knelt and waited for permission; when Thomas granted it she leaned forward to eat and drink.

Before he left, he said Francesca might use the big bullwhip on her tomorrow; she thanked him and kissed the ground at his feet. Yes, there was hope.

It grew dark soon after and she lay down on the cold stone floor.

As she sank into sleep, Anne smiled to herself. This was where she belonged; she was home again.

- The End -