Getting the Business on Viriinil

The native reached for him and Mel scrambled away as best he could. "Where is Tela?" he croaked.

The xeno looked at him, surprised. "You talk Olit?"

"I speak some Olit, yes," Mel admitted, wondering ruefully whether he should have concealed the fact.

"Good, then you will understand when I say you stay in wagon or I hurt you," the xeno said with a nasty grin. "I come back later."

"Wait! I need water. And I need to, ah, release water, you know? And, do you know Tela Sar Utana?" Mel said rapidly.

"Surely I know Sar Utana, what for do you need know it?" the Viriin grunted. He found a leather bottle and handed it to Mel. "Water."

"What about my other need?"

"You do out back of wagon. Do not leave wagon or I hurt you," was the grumbled reply.

"Please, where am I? Who are you?" Mel pleaded.

The xeno jumped back down. "You are here and so is Lemo, which is me."

{}

After making sure that Lemo was gone Mel explored the back of the moving wagon. Most of the contents were food and water containers along with blankets and cloth, though Mel also discovered a bag full of the leather cuffs. These were cleverly constructed, so much so that even with examples to play with Mel still had no idea how to remove his own without a cutting tool.

Mel also gazed out the back of the wagon, but all he could tell was that he was traveling as part of a small caravan and they were no longer in the city. An immediate escape attempt did not seem practical, not without a wayfinder device or map and with no idea where he was in relation to Eystro. Besides, Lemo never seemed to be far away.

They traveled for what was probably another two hours or so before coming to a halt. Some time later Lemo arrived at the wagon. "Out," the xeno ordered.

Mel had been stretching his limbs trying to limber up in case there was a reason to try a run for it but still felt a bit sick from whatever they'd drugged him with. He gingerly attempted to lower himself from the back of the wagon, but Lemo became impatient with Mel's slow progress and lifted the Terran up like a child before dropping Mel on his feet.

Mel looked around. The sun was still up but not by much, it would be evening shortly. There was no sign of civilization anywhere he looked, which seemed odd as he knew that populated farmlands surrounded Eystro for a fair distance. The only landmarks beyond the tracks of the caravan itself were a small stream and various sorts of uncultivated vegetation. The caravan consisted of six wagons and a collection of the local horse-equivalents. There were about a dozen Viirin clustered around one of the wagons while a scatter of others were caring for the beasts and wagons or setting up camp.

"Come," Lemo said, grabbing Mel's arm and propelling him forward before he could get more of a look. The xeno frog-marched Mel rapidly away from the wagon in a downstream direction.

Mel had been aware of a growing discomfort in his bowels for some time, and now that he was moving it became more acute. "I need to shit," he told his captor, using the Reyt slang term on the assumption that if this xeno ape knew any foreign words they would be curses and foul language.

Lemo changed directions somewhat, now marching Mel out into the vegetation further from the water. "Here," he said after a distance.

Mel saw that they were out of sight of the caravan and considered trying to sneak away. Unfortunately Lemo showed no signs of giving him privacy, not even to the extent of turning around. Mel knew that overpowering the Viriin with his bare hands was out of the question, of course.

"I'm chained," Mel pointed out.

"I take off chains before wash, not now."

Chagrined, Mel pulled up his robe. He squatted and did what he had to, feeling vastly relieved afterward.

"Good," Lemo said, sounding quite pleased. "Was fearing that I clean up must you. Three days long time without bodysoil out."

"Three days?" Mel asked, puzzled.

"That how long you sleep," Lemo replied. "Boss know not umahn so weak, give too much medicine."

This confirmed Mel's suspicion that Tela had drugged and kidnaped him, presumably to hold him for ransom. But three days! They could be anywhere now, and Mel finding his own way back to Eystro much more improbable. His spirits sank.

"Now come," Lemo ordered. Off they marched again, this time toward the stream. They reached a spot where the bank was low and here Lemo stopped him. "Take off clothes, wash."

Mel held up his chained hands. Lemo grabbed them and did something Mel couldn't follow. The cuffs fell off.

"What about my feet?" Mel asked.

"Stay on," was the gruff response.

Mel grimaced but he couldn't argue. The chain there was long enough he could walk, just not run. He pulled the rough clothing over his head and stepped to the flowing water. It was cold enough that he was reluctant to do more than put his feet in it, but Lemo forced him to sit down so that it was up to his hips. Lemo produced a rag so he could sponge the rest of his body. There was no soap, but by scrubbing hard (as Lemo insisted) Mel began to get clean.

When he was finished washing to his captor's satisfaction Mel stepped out of the stream. Luckily the day was still quite warm, certainly far warmer than the water. Lemo threw him a bigger rag as a towel.

As he stood there in the fading sunlight drying himself Mel gradually became aware that Lemo was no longer grumbling at him or ordering him around. He glanced up and saw that the big Viriin was staring fixedly at Mel's face and nude body and inhaling deeply. In fact it was very much like the way the captain had behaved on that last day in his office, Mel noted with growing unease.

"I now see," Lemo rumbled. "You are very fine, for an alien slikin."

"Slikin, based on known cognates this would indicate a female animal of a domesticated species of some sort," Mel's t/c implant whispered. "Possibly translations include: mare, ewe, bitch, sow, cow..."

Mel didn't hear any more because Lemo suddenly advanced and pushed him to the ground. Mel struggled wildly but the Viriin held him down easily with one hand while probing at Mel's crotch with the other. He grabbed Mel's scrotum and tugged up roughly, drawing a yelp from the Terran.

"Where is it? What have wrong with you, slikin?" the xeno growled in frustration, his thick fingers examining Mel's testicles. "Don't females have meesha where you come from?"

Mel's implant indicated it had no possible translation for the new term and was storing it for future reference. Lemo released Mel, letting him sit up. At the same time however the native opened his lower garment and gave Mel his first look at a Viriini penis outside of his cursory study on local biology, which hadn't shown any erect ones.

It was big and orange, though not as big as you would expect on a human scaled up to Viriin size. It also did not look particularly clean. Still, it an impressive member when it was being waved a short distance from your face.

Mel didn't get more time for anatomic comparison as Lemo put one huge hand on the Terran's head and pulled him forward. Mel didn't need the t/c device to interpret Lemo's next words, which were "Consume the meat-spear, bitch-sow."

Mel was terrified but there was no way he was going to suck xeno cock. Pushing the Viriin away as hard as he could had little effect, but clenching his teeth and dodging meant that the dirty phallus he was facing could only bump and rub over his lips and face.

That seemed to be enough for Lemo, however. The big rod erupted, covering Mel's face with sticky fluid. It smelled spicy, a more intense version of the typical Viriin body odor, and some inevitably got between Mel's lips where he discovered that it tasted sweet. Very much like warm rice pudding sprinkled with cinnamon, in fact.

"Oh, you rude-intercoursing little bitch-sow," Lemo breathed. "We will have much joy together from now on."

"Ah, will you?" a new voice announced.

Lemo let go of Mel abruptly and scrambled upright. Tela Sar Utana stood behind them.

"Boss! I just..." Lemo began, but got no further. Tela's hand shot out and struck him full on the face, knocking the other Viriin down.

"You will not have joy. You will not touch. Touch what is mine again and I will not be so kind," Tela said. His voice was quiet, but Lemo cowered as if it were shouting.

"Now go care for my other property," Tela ordered. "And the same rule applies, just as it always does, fool."

Lemo rushed off. Tela looked down at Mel. "It seems you must bathe again, umahn," he said in Reyt.

Mel stumbled back to the water and began splashing it on his face. Once he felt more composed, he looked up at his captor. "If you wish it, I will write to the umahn merchants and tell them I am unharmed."

The xeno seemed amused. "Why would I wish that?"

"If I am harmed, my people will demand compensation and may take revenge," Mel said, lying through his teeth.

"I doubt this greatly, umahn," Tela said. "You admitted that your clan is far away and you have no family here. I think you are what we call a 'lone walker' and no one will feel great concern."

The xeno handed him the coarse robe. Mel put it on, then Tela motioned for his wrists. Reluctantly Mel held them out for the cuffs to be put back on. They began to walk back to the camp.

"I found it quite funny when you described yourself as a trader," Tela said with a chuckle. "An interesting way of naming your work."

"What do you mean? I am a trader," Mel said.

"I suppose selling your body can be considered trade," the xeno quipped.

Mel stopped in his tracks. "What are you saying?"

"Come, umahn. You uncovered your face to me in private, clearly you are a prostitute," Tela said, nudging Mel to continue walking.

"I am male, I can prove this," Mel argued.

Tela made a dismissive gesture. "I examined you while you slept. You lack certain womanly parts, but everything else about you is very feminine. What do I know of alien perversions?"

Mel shook his head. Things were getting stranger and stranger.

They were back in the camp now. There was a pot of food simmering on the first, and a line of xenos waiting for a portion. Mel noticed they were all robed and hooded females, while the caravan workers were of course all male.

"If you do not want me to write to my people, I can tell you things that will help you convince them you truly have me," Mel suggested. He might be able to slip a message in, even if it was Tela writing.

"This is an odd idea you cling to. Why do you think I would write to the umahn?"

Mel blinked. "How else would you obtain the money for me?"

Now it was Tela's turn to look surprised. "Sell you back to them? Interesting, but likely too risky. No, I think I will do as I first planned, and sell you elsewhere."

The line of Viriini woman waiting to be fed shuffled forward, and for the first time Mel noted that they all wore the same leather cuffs on their ankles that he did. Suddenly the truth came to him. Tela Sar Utana was not a kidnaper pretending to be a merchant.

He was a slave trader.

{}

The caravan traveled through the wilderness for another fifteen days before finally reaching the walled city of Guoton. Knowing that he was being taken further and further away from any chance of rescue Mel kept looking for opportunities to escape, but he was too closely watched.

Mel did pick up a much better knowledge of the dialect of Olit his captors spoke, as well as finding out the slaver's plan for him. Mel was to be sold to the Taylpat of Osirana, whose palace was in Guoton and who maintained a large "women-house" ("possibly equivalents: harem, seralgio, purdah; more remote possibilities include bordello, whorehouse") there. The Taylpat apparently had a taste for the exotic and Sar Utana had profitably provided him with a number of female Viriini slaves from distant lands in the past. Mel, of course, was considerably more "exotic" than any of those and Sar Utana expected the umahn would bring a correspondingly higher price.

Mel knew that Osirana was never a part of Yetter's empire, and the Taylpat here was in fact a rival and enemy of the Taylpat of Yetter. How the politics of that would play out was anyone's guess, but he hoped he would be sold off in public and that word of a "umahn" on the auction block would thus get back to the Assos, who would then certainly start an investigation. Mel thought it was also possible that once the prospective buyers realized Mel wasn't a woman at all but a Terran male they'd free him.

Both Mel's hopes were stillborn. His sale must have been by private arrangement, for the first Mel knew of it was after it had been concluded and two strange armed Viriin showed up at the the caravan while it was still outside the city. Mel did not see his arrival in Osirana, nor did any of its inhabitants see him arrive, because as soon as Sar Utana received payment Mel was put in a sack and the sack slung over the back of a riding beast. After a fast and uncomfortable trip the sack was taken off the beast and Mel was slung over someone's shoulder to be carried through a number of doors and up several flights of stairs, after which he was finally lowered onto a hard surface.

It was in this fashion, with Mel as a piece of baggage, that he entered the palace of the Taylpat of Osirana.

{}

When the sack was opened and Mel's head freed he found himself in a richly-furnished room, looking up from a tiled floor at a female Viriin. Or so Mel assumed, for the tall thin figure had its face uncovered but did not have a beard.

"What, is this a child?" the Viriin asked in a tenor voice which gave Mel another clue the xeno was a woman.

"The slave trader says this is as big as umahn grow, mistress," a meeker female voice answered.

"Well, untie it and we shall see," the first said.

Hands loosed the remaining ropes around the sack and hauled Mel out. He began his planned speech: "Honored ones, I am Mel Ran Dee, umahn and trader, most foully stolen from my place by..."

"Be silent until you are asked to speak. Strip her down," came the peremptory response from the tall xeno female.

The same hands that had freed Mel now proceeded to tug off his coarse robe. He tried to retain his dignity but couldn't avoid some yelps as they were less than gentle about this.

Mel regained his feet, noting several things. The furnishing of the rooms he was in were quite fine, much nicer than any of the common taverns he had occupied. It was currently occupied by himself and three female Viriin. Of the latter, one (the first he had seen) was almost as tall as a Viriin male but much thinner, dressed in a robe of fine black brocade, and wore several pieces of silver jewelry. The other two were dressed in similar robes but these were pale green and the cloth was much less fine, they wore veils covering their faces like most of the Viriin females, and they had no jewelry.

Mel saw there was only a single door in the room (which was shut), while the windows that let in light and air were set very high up in the walls and covered with an ornate but secure-looking grillwork.

The black-clad female was looking Mel up and down. "I now see that she is no child despite her size. Unbred, though, possibly even a virgin. She stands as clumsily as a man, though."

Mel realized that he didn't know how to properly address a Viriin woman, particularly one who was apparently high-ranking. The language modules didn't cover it because it simply had never come up in past Terran dealings. Well, he'd have to use the male honorifics and hope.

"Noble sir, I am Mel Ran Dee..." he began again.

Something he said definitely nettled the woman. "Quiet, bitch-sow. I will decide what your name is."

"What? What do you mean?" Mel blurted out.

"Are you stupid, alien? I said I will decide what your name is," she replied brusquely. "Ran Dee is certainly not appropriate for a member of this House, not at all. Besides, it sounds too gruff, almost manly. Now, walk over to that wall, but do it daintily!"

Mel swallowed his anger and tried to sound reasonable. "May I ask the name of the honored one I am addressing?"

"A fair question. I am Droth. I served for many years as a lady of the Women's House, and now I teach all new girls the things they must know to serve our master the Taylpat. You are in my care for the time being and you will obey me in all things until you are fully trained. Now, walk over to that wall."

Again Mel controlled his irritation. "Noble Droth, I am not... YEOW!"

Quick as a flash, a short springy whip appeared in Droth's hand and lashed out at Mel's naked chest, leaving a line of fire across it.

"Walk to that wall!" Droth shouted.

Mel hesitated for a few seconds and received another blow of the short whip. At that point he decided obedience was the only option for present and quickly walked to the wall indicated.

"No, no, no! You are walking like a flat-footed cow, not like a maiden," Droth groaned. "Must I even teach you how to walk?"

"I don't need to learn how to walk, I need to talk to someone who has the brains to listen and understand me," Mel shouted back.

There was an audible gasp from one of the green-clad females in the room. Droth stood stock-still for a moment, then commanded, "Selet, Chuba, hold the bitch-sow still."

Mel tried to fight and discovered than even female Viriin were a lot stronger than he was. Soon he was bent over the back of a low chair with the two green-clad women each gripping an arm.

"I believe I know your name now," Droth said from behind Mel. "I say your name is Meesh."

A crack, and pain blossomed over Mel's backside. He bit back a cry.

"What is your name?" Droth asked.

"My name is Mel... AHHH!"

Two quick blows, one to each buttock. "Wrong. What is your name?"

Mel refused to answer, but that only caused Droth to start whipping him steadily, spreading her blows over his lower back and thighs. Finally he gasped out, "Meesh! My name is Meesh!"

This slowed the torment, but did not end it. Droth began to speak, not raising her voice, but punctuating each of her comments with a blow of the whip.

"You are certainly a stupid girl." (Snap!)

"And a clumsy one." (Snap!)

"And stubborn." (Snap!)

"But I will correct all those flaws." (Snap!)

"I will teach you manners." (Snap!)

"I will teach you poise." (Snap!)

"I will teach you grace." (Snap!)

"I will teach you to respect..." (Snap!)

"... your betters!" (Snap!)

"By the time I am finished, you will dance well." (Snap!)

"You will converse pleasantly on proper topics." (Snap!)

"You will know how to serve a man." (Snap!)

"And, the goddess willing, how to please one." (Snap!)

"I will make you a well-behaved girl." (Snap!)

"One who is a credit to this house." (Snap!)

"And to my teachings." (Snap!)

By this time tears were running down Mel's face and he was sobbing openly. The whipping stopped.

"What is your name, girl?" Droth asked.

"My name is Meesh," Mel said brokenly.

Droth sniffed. "I suppose that is enough for the present. I will begin your true training tomorrow."

{}

The days that followed in the training chambers were like a nightmare for Mel. He was kept closely confined, locked in a small room at night and always accompanied by one of the green-clad servant girls when taken anywhere. Droth met him each morning to assign his lessons for the day, and often oversaw them personally. When Mel resisted or failed to perform as desired he was whipped as he had been on their first encounter.

Just as Droth had said the first day, the lessons started with Mel learning how to walk. Or more accurately, how to walk in the way expected of a Viriin woman who was a slave in the Women's House of the Taylpat of Osirana. Delicate steps, erect back, and rolling hips. To Mel it felt exaggeratedly feminine and thus acutely embarrassing. But deviations from the desired walk at any time led to punishment, so before too long it became second nature to Mel and he did it unconsciously.