My Dream Comes True

"I am going to give you your due now. You need to lose that anger. You will thank me one day for turning you into a real woman." He pulled a leather strap that was wound around his belt and looked at me. "American bitch, welcome to your new world."

He walked behind me and slapped my back with the belt. I cried out in pain. He swung it again. Crack! I screamed. He swung it again. I cried, "Please, don't whip me anymore." Crack! I began to cry. Crack, again! "Please stop, please." My back was stinging all over. The next swat hit my butt cheeks. "Ohhh, no, please." After that I couldn't get any more words out. I do not know how many times he laid the belt on my back. I was limp in my bonds, my head hung down and I sniffled and groaned. My back and butt were sore from the whipping. Molodin walked away and out of sight.

I had imagined being beaten before. I had not fully understood the pain and humiliation of being treated this way. And yet, I did not hate them or even hate where I was. How could I think this way?

Two men came over and unbound my hands from the shackles. One of them grabbed me by the shoulders while the other slipped down and took my feet and, between them, they picked me up and carried my limp body. They carried me around a corner in the courtyard to a strange looking seat. They tossed me into it and strapped me in. My bound ankles were spread widely apart below me with a wooden shaft behind each knee to keep my thighs horizontal. My back was still stinging as it rested on a plank. My wrists were bound behind me and below straight down so that I could not raise myself up. They wrapped a belt tightly around my belly. There was nothing behind my head. I looked around. To my far right I saw Joyce standing with two other girls. They were all fitted with wooden bridle gags just like I had worn earlier. Joyce had a collar with chains linking her on either side to the other two. All three were naked with their hands bound behind their back. Each had a sullen look. The other two were darker in skin color and I assumed they were locals who had been captured by Molodin and his comrades.

I looked straight ahead of me and saw a large vessel containing embers burning red. There were several black steel shafts sticking out of the furnace. One of the men standing by the vessel drew one of the shafts out. It was smoldering. I gasped. It was a branding iron. I pulled on the restraints. I could not move. He walked over to my left side. I cried, "Keep away from me," and twisted myself trying to get out of the restraints. I could barely move at all. I screamed, "Don't touch me. Get away." He placed his left hand on my thigh just above the knee and pressed it down. He pushed the brand onto my left thigh about one third the way from my hip and held it there for about one second. I screamed and then passed out.

The next thing I knew I was wet. Someone had just thrown water on my face. I looked up. My thigh was throbbing with pain. Another man was there rubbing the brand with a green gelatinous ointment.

Several men began removing my restraints. The one who released my right hand placed a collar on me and a short leash and stood beside me. Two other men stood me up and bound my hands behind my back; then the man holding the leash pulled it, and with it me, over to the other three girls. I limped as he pulled me. He added me to their links. My thigh hurt. I looked down at it. There was a two-inch red circle with some sort of character inside. I did not recognize or understand the symbol's meaning. There was no scar or swelling. The brand looked just like a tattoo. Perhaps the ointment made that so. It still throbbed and was very uncomfortable. I could not help but stare at it. Even though I did not understand its exact meaning, I fully understood its significance. This was a marking; it was a marking of ownership. It identified each of us as property. The process to apply the mark was well-defined and organized. There was no emotion or anger on the part of the men who did this. It was daily business.

Two more girls were added to our links. We all heard the whippings and witnessed the brandings. I watched them writhe in pain as the branding iron was pressed into their thighs. It struck me the same way as when I watch Joyce being whipped. The sensation of someone being controlled by someone else was strong and was pulling on my senses. One of those last two girls was another white girl. The second girl was black. I had no idea who either girl was. We were all gagged. I glanced at Joyce. She looked pained from the branding and whipping. Her demeanor was also different. She had her head bowed just a bit, and she looked up at the men who were around us.

6 -- Going through the Waterfall

Once we were all linked together, one of the men shouted out to another man through a gate behind us. He came in, pulled the first girl with the rest of us following in turn. He attached another chain to her collar and attached the other end to a strap wrapped around his horse; he mounted the horse and made some command that started the horse walking slowly with us following in step behind.

We continued on down a path along the stream. We could hear a rumbling noise up ahead. We walked for a couple of miles or so deeper into the woods; the stream flowed into a small river and just ahead of us was a waterfall. The path led down to a crevice aside the river. The man on the horse followed that path. When we got to the bottom there was a small opening under the rocks. The man dismounted the horse, detached the chain from the horse and pulled us ahead. There was an opening in the rock by the water fall where the water was falling straight down. He walked right through the water pulling us behind him through the cascade. We entered a darker cavern on the other side about ten yards long. You never would have known it was there. We walked through another cascade of water on the other side of the small cavern.

When we walked out of the water the second time we saw a vast valley ahead of us. Far in the distance was a town. We could barely see wisps of smoke from fires in the village. The mist from the waterfall wafted over the entire valley producing an eerie and haunted look. It was a bright day and warm, but you could not see the sun or the clouds or even the mountain tops due to the mist. It was a peculiar transition we had just made. I looked around behind me. There was a large rock wall. I could not see the woods or the old stone courtyard where we had stood. The terrain was quite different. The valley was surrounded by sheer cliffs for as far as the eye could see.

Another man was standing by the waterfall waiting for us. He was dressed nicely but plainly. The man who had pulled us through the waterfalls had clothes that were a bit tattered and worn. The man who met us looked like a person with some importance or authority. He had two horses. The first girl was attached to a horse just as before. The new man mounted that horse and began to lead us in tow into the valley. The man who had brought us here mounted the other horse and followed behind us. Neither of the men spoke or even gave us any attention whatsoever.

7 -- Determining a Price

Just below the water fall/cavern we made a stop at a rancid water hole. We were allowed to relieve ourselves there. We had to be careful squatting over the water hole. It was awful. We were pulled another hundred yards or so ahead and came to a watering hole. The second man pulled our gags out and said, "Drink up, the next water is seven miles hence. No talking."

We all knelt (our hands were still bound) and lapped up the water. It was cool and delicious. Joyce leaned over and whispered, "Ann, are you okay?" The first man walked up quickly, took a leather strap off his belt and swatted Joyce's bottom squarely. She yelped and looked back at him. The second man yelled, "I said no talking. The next violation will result in more severe punishment." Joyce sank back down and looked at me. I raised my eyebrows not wanting to gain any undue attention from the men. How easily these men attended to us. For them, the slaps, the whippings, and the brandings: these were not torture to them, rather these were cultural necessities of their everyday lives. I was trying to understand the dominating nature of the men. Was it reserved for women like us -- those being taken to the slave market? Or was this universal for all the women in this society?

We walked on a path through wheat and barley fields. I imagined that a master was going to buy me at the slave market, take me to his hovel and ravish me until he was exhausted. He would sleep it off, then come at me again. Our treatment at the courtyard had been mechanical. We were just a marketable commodity. I was afraid. My dream was being altered. I wanted a man who would make me his woman. I felt like I was on a path leading to utter humiliation and abuse. Was my dream to be replaced by these anxious fears?

We made it to the next watering hole at sunset. We refreshed ourselves again and sat in the grass next to the water. Oddly, the air temperature did not change appreciably as it got darker. The two men made a small fire and roasted some sort of food, which they ate. When they were done, they got up and fed us from a stick of some brown taffy looking substance. It was spicy and the small piece they broke off and fed me completely satisfied my hunger. We were made to lie down on our bellies; they hog-tied each of the non-Arabic girls. They dragged the two local girls over a few feet on the other side of the fire and took them both from behind. We heard the girls moaning and the men breathing hard as they shot their juice into the girls. Then they brought them back over and hog-tied them with the rest of us. Amazingly, these men can take freely of a woman so nonchalantly.

Sleeping hog-tied was not comfortable, but I was so tired I did eventually fall asleep. Suddenly it was daylight again, and the first man was kicking me to get up. We were all lined up and attached to the horse. Thus we were to continue our journey.

About an hour later we stopped. The man who had joined us at the waterfall looked at us and started to talk, "Shortly, we will reach the slave market. I have the duty of placing a starting purchase price on each of you. We took care of the locals earlier, now I must complete my task with each of you." He then unchained Joyce and took her behind the rocks. I heard some commotion and, I suspect, Joyce moaning as he determined her sale price. Fifteen minutes later they were back. Joyce looked like she had been drugged. Her eyes were glazed and she was unsteady as she walked.

It was my turn next. The man grabbed me under my shoulder and pulled me back behind the rocks. He calmly told me, "Bend over." He grabbed my bound hands with one hand and lifted them up, and pushed on the back of my neck with his other hand. "Spread your legs." I moved them apart. "Wider," he snapped. I moved them apart even further. "Now hold still and this will not take long." He ran his fingers down my butt crack and between my legs. He began massaging my pussy. I melted in ecstasy. I gyrated my hips as he continued to massage me. This went on for three or four minutes. The sensation was incredible even though I tried my best to suppress it. He stopped, moved in behind me and I felt him push his member inside me. I moaned in delight. He was still holding my hands up behind me forcing me to stay bent over. His other hand he placed on my butt cheek and he slowly moved his manhood in and out of me. I groaned with pleasure. The more he pumped me, the more I sunk into the sensations he sent through my body. I do not know how long it lasted, but he finally sped up and increased the power of his pumping and his shaft quivered. I did not feel much juice inside me though. Perhaps he had used it all with Joyce. I nearly collapsed. He dragged me in a half-stupor back to the others and reconnected the chains to my collar. It took several minutes for my head to clear. I did not understand. I was just raped and it was the most spectacular sexual encounter I had ever had. No man I had ever been with before had been able to bring out these sensations in me. These were alien thoughts for me. Relative to where I had come from, the men of this world easily took control of their women.

The man took the last two back behind the rock and brought them back in the same giddy condition. Then it was time to start walking again.

By the early afternoon we reached the town we had seen when we passed through the waterfall. It was old looking. There was nothing really modern in sight. It had dirt streets. The kids ran around barefoot. There were pack animals everywhere and the women were buying food in the outdoor markets. There were several small sandy-yellow buildings and dozens of small huts in all directions. The streets were narrow and windy. We walked through toward the center of the town. No one took notice of us. We were a train of six naked women chained together. How common was this occurrence that it could become just a day-to-day event?

8 -- On the Platform

Our caravan stopped in front of a fenced-in area with a large iron gate. We were unchained from the horse and pulled inside. The floors were marble and cool on my feet. We were in a large hall. There were arched doorways all around the hall and a balcony running around the perimeter of the room. Silk curtains hung from the openings on the upper level.

An attendant came to meet us and said, "Welcome to Hordron. You have come to the main city in the region for the buying and selling of slaves. You look to be a fine lot and will bring in much money. We will clean you up and prepare you. The main sale will be tomorrow. You must be ready for there is excitement about non-locals being up for sale." Joyce and I looked at each other. I still could not believe we were here.

We were taken to separate quarters or, more accurately, kennels. We were hosed down and given some food and water to fill us. The building housing the kennels was then locked up and was totally dark. I was scared but I was so tired I fell asleep quickly.

I awoke before the sun came up. Three young girls came to my kennel and took me to a large room in the same building. They primped me and combed out my hair. They trimmed my nails. The only thing they did not do was offer me any clothes. These were the first females that I had been close to in this valley. They walked stiffly and with heads bowed. They went about their business. In contrast to the men who freely took for themselves, these women were slow and careful. One of them attached a leash to my collar. Then we waited.

About twenty minutes later a man came for me. He barked some command to the girls and they hurriedly left with their heads bowed. He pulled my leash and led me out through a courtyard. There were several tables, there were posts that had pegs and holes in them, and there was a ten foot wall on the opposite side. We walked past these and went around the wall to a large platform. There were several girls already kneeling at the side of the platform. I could see Joyce in the group. On the other side of the platform was a large crowd of people, mostly men. I was set at the end of the group on the right hand side near Joyce.

A well-dressed Arab stood walked onto the platform and the crowd began to jeer. It was Molodin. He looked like a pimp. A thought struck me; maybe he was in a sense. He spoke some unintelligible words. One of the guards pulled one of the girls from the other side of the group and took her up on the stage. Molodin, who apparently was the auctioneer, turned her around so the crowd could take a look at her assets. Then the bidding started. It seemed quite vigorous to me. I could not understand anything that anyone was saying. Suddenly, there was a cheer; a burly man walked up to the platform and he pulled the slave off the platform as, presumably, he was the winning bidder.

The sale continued on in that manner until there were only four girls remaining: Joyce, the black girl, the other white girl and me. The other girls had all been locals and they had all been taken away. The other white girl (I never learned who she was) went first. The noise of the crowd was even louder during the bidding; the cheer for her buyer was louder still. Joyce went next. And the crowd noise was even more boisterous.

The black girl was next and I was left alone. I became very anxious and I did not hear the reaction for her bid. This was a slave auction. I had dreamed about being owned by a strong virile Arabian master. Had my time come? This was not exactly the way I had pictured it? It was dawning on me how this culture operated, and the roles that males and females each played. Finally, the guard came and took my leash and walked me up on the stage. Molodin looked at me and growled, "American bitch, I have been waiting for you. There is someone who is in this crowd who wishes to buy you and whip you. I will drive your price up very high. My profit today will be huge." There was noise, hands were waving, Molodin was shouting out gibberish (to me anyway) as he twirled me around to show the crowd. The bargaining began. It lasted for the better part of ten minutes. Then the big cheer came.

A large man walked up to the platform to take his prize, which was me. Molodin spoke to him briefly then looked at me. "This is a buyer; he will be transporting you to your new master. Thank you for making me a rich man, slut." The buyer pulled the leash and took me back behind the platform to the courtyard. There were several slave girls who had just been auctioned tied to posts being whipped. Several others were on their knees servicing their new masters. I wondered if this man was dragging me to either or to both. But he was in a hurry. He walked briskly and I could hardly keep up. I obediently followed.

9 -- The Lieutenant Makes an Offer

We walked past the courtyard and back out into the street. Just as before, hardly anyone gave us any notice. I did not see Joyce or the other girls. He walked on out of town in the opposite direction from where we had entered the day before. We walked for about an hour before resting at another watering hole. He sat by the watering hole and motioned for me to drink. I bent down and lapped up some water. He was watching me closely as I drank. He made me nervous. He had not acted with the type of authority I had become accustomed to. He was even docile to some extent. I lapped up some more water, and then I sat opposite him in the short stubby grass next to a small plant. He drank water with his hands, and wiped some water on his face.

After resting for a few minutes, I heard some sounds but could not make them out. They got closer. My buyer stood and looked off in the distance. There were three riders on horseback riding toward us from Hordron. They rode up to us, stopped and dismounted. The one who appeared to be the leader talked to the buyer. The discussion got heated. They went back and forth for several minutes before the buyer raised his hand and stopped speaking. The leader took out a bag that appeared to hold some coins and handed it to the buyer. He looked inside the bag, tied it back up, looked over at me and said something I could not understand, and then he walked off back in the direction of the city mumbling to his self. It would appear that I have been bought again. And this time by a handsome soldier.

The leader came over to me and said, "Are you Ann McDonald?"

He said my name. I was unable to speak.

He repeated, "Are you Ann McDonald?"

I looked at him for another second before stuttering a response, "Yes, yes, I am Ann McDonald. Who are you?"

"We have not yet found your companion. I am a lieutenant for the sultan's body guard. He had sent us to buy you at the auction today. Unfortunately, we were detained and arrived late. We were able to track you down and made a generous offer to buy you from that man who just left."