Servitude and Sluttiness Ch. 01

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Sarah is sold into slavery. Luckily her new owner's a woman.
2.3k words
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Part 1 of the 5 part series

Updated 10/28/2022
Created 08/30/2011
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I

Sarah woke as the wagon rattled over cobblestones, jolting and banging her against the sides. When she tried to brace herself, she found her hands and feet bound. Panic cut through the last of her muzziness. She forced herself upright against the bouncing. This was her wagon. The old sacking, the knothole by her left foot-- it was all as familiar as the little farmhouse she had shared with her husband until last week. And the man driving, only the side and back of his head visible from Sarah's position, he was Joe, her brother-in-law.

*Bastard must have drugged my food,* Sarah thought. Cobblestones and traffic noises meant that they were on a well-traveled road, but Sarah was unable to call out because of the rags tied into her mouth. Her hands were behind her, tied to the wagon frame, so there would be no jumping out, either. The last thing she remembered was going to bed last night. The sun was bright now, but a hint of morning damp still hung in the air. She had gone to sleep at Joe and his wife's house, and now he was taking her-- where?

Sarah's husband, Andrew, had been fatally kicked by a mule the previous week. The young couple hadn't had any children, so the house and the dairy farm reverted to Andrew's brothers. As did responsibility for Sarah. She had seen the way Joe's and Peter's wives looked at her. They weren't happy about having a young widow in either of their households.

Sarah would have gone back to her own family, but she had none living. She had tried her best to be agreeable to her sisters-in-law, but obviously one or both of them had decided she had to go. She had a terrible suspicion she knew what they had decided to do with her.

---

"Hmm." The fat man flashed his khat-stained teeth as he looked Sarah over. "A dairy farmer's widow, you say?"

"Strong, and still young," Joe said. He pulled Sarah up straighter by her shoulder.

"Why don't you keep her around, then? What's wrong with her?"

"It's not her that's the problem. It's my wife. Sarah, here, is prettier, but my wife's got lots of brothers. So Sarah has to be the one to go."

"Twenty gold kings," the slavebroker said.

"What? She's worth fifty! She can do all sorts of housework and farmwork, and she brings in money as a seamstress."

"Let me see her hands."

Joe turned Sarah roughly so that the man could inspect her calluses.

"All right, thirty. She's not a virgin or a trained dancer; you can't expect much."

Joe was indignant. "Look at those breasts! You expect me to give those up for just fifteen kings apiece?"

The broker grumbled, but the two men finally settled on a price of thirty-five gold coins.

Joe took his money, and Sarah was left alone with the slavebroker and her fears. She knew that slaves were often abused physically and sexually. To her relief, her new owner seemed to regard her as nothing more than a piece of merchandise. He took her to a small room off a hall of similar rooms. With a muscular guard to back him up, he untied Sarah and stripped her. No one but her husband had ever seen her naked, but neither of these men seemed to notice at all. She was given a white tunic to wear. It was thin, doing little to conceal her nipples and the dark patch of her pubic hair. It fastened with ties down the front, but Sarah was told to leave it open.

A harassed little medic came in to examine her. As he removed her gag to check her teeth, she noticed the glint of a metal collar around his neck. A slave. He directed her to move, show her range of motion. When he told her to spread her legs for an examination, she blushed and refused. The big guard held her down and forced her legs open without ever changing his expression. Sarah bit her lip to avoid crying in front of these men.

Finally, the medic had seen enough. Sarah was allowed to stand and tie her tunic closed.

"Healthy, good muscle tone," the medic reported to his master without meeting his eyes. "Early twenties. Not a virgin-- hope you didn't pay for one. But no babies, and no apparent diseases."

"Good. If I take her to Gallin in tomorrow's caravan, I should be able to get fifty for her," the slavebroker said. He chained Sarah's ankle to the wall with a padded shackle. "Try to get some rest, my girl. You've a long trip ahead of you."

When he closed the door, the room was pitch black.

---

Sarah was transported to the city of Gallin with about 30 other slaves. Most were longtime slaves being resold. They stayed apart from the others and rebuffed any attempts to talk. Sarah tried talking to the other newly-enslaved captives, but they didn't know any more about their eventual fate than she did. Many of them had been enslaved because of debts or crimes, and a few had been captured in battle. Only Sarah and three teenagers had been sold by their families. The teenagers, two girls and a boy, were kept under heavy guard. The guards told Sarah that this was to protect their virginity, a salable asset. Sarah felt sick; she wished she hadn't asked.

At the end of their dusty five-day journey, the locked slave wagons rattled under the gates of Gallin. Sarah peered at the looming grey city walls through a crack. The walls were a renowned feat of engineering, protecting the city without slumping into the floodplain silt or impairing the navigability of the Tino river, which flowed through the city. Gallin's walls had been built by slave labor, because free people could not be compelled to do such risky work. Dozens of slaves had died building those walls, Sarah's grandfather had told her. They drowned in faulty caissons, were crushed by falling stones, fell from the heights. Safety measures were costly in time and money, and building the walls by magic would have been more expensive still. In the end, it was cheaper to expend the lives of slaves. Sarah had never before questioned whether the construction had been worth all those lives. For generations, the walls had protected the prosperous city from bandits and allowed it to collect a toll on all of the river's trade. The calculus looked very different from this perspective. She wondered what kind of tasks her new owner would require of her.

The slaves were taken to a compound near the slave market to eat and rest. In the morning, they were bathed and given fresh tunics. Then they were marched out into the market square. Sarah was chained with her hands behind her back to a low post. There were rows of other women chained all around her. Prospective buyers stalked up and down, viewing the wares.

Sarah tensed as a young man stopped in front of her. He fingered her hair. "I do like a brunette," he mused. His hand slid down to her arm. "A tad too muscular, though." He drifted on. An older man with a hawkish nose was the next to stop. Sarah was afraid he was shopping for a bed-warmer, too, but it turned out he was interested in her skills as a seamstress. On hearing the asking price, he left, shaking his head. "Fifty kings! She'd barely earn her keep."

As the sun rose over the surrounding buildings, the square began to warm up. Sarah could feel a trickle of sweat running down her back. She was trembling in apprehension. If she was purchased by a cruel master, it would make life almost unbearable. Many of the men who had so far considered buying her seemed interested in taking advantage of her sexually. It wasn't unexpected, but it was scary. If one of them bought her, she would be raped repeatedly. So Sarah was relieved when she saw that the latest prospective buyer was a woman. *At least she'll be more interested in my skills than my body,* Sarah thought.

The woman was tall and red-haired, wearing expensive clothes and striding confidently through the marketplace. She paused here and there to look over one of the slaves for sale. Her gaze fixed on Sarah, and Sarah could feel it like a hook in her gut. The woman stopped in front of Sarah and gestured the broker over for questions.

"So, what's this one got to offer?" the woman asked.

"A dairy farmer's widow, Lady Miriam. Perhaps you would prefer to look at one of our more highly trained offerings?"

"They're overpriced, and I prefer to do my own training. As you know-- how many girls have I bought from you by now, Zeb?" As she spoke, Lady Miriam ran her hand absently over Sarah's body, palpating the muscles of her arms and thighs. Her hand was soft; Sarah shivered involuntarily.

The slavebroker bobbed obsequiously. "Of course, my lady. You have always been one of my most valued customers."

Lady Miriam's hand moved up to Sarah's nipples. Sarah tried not to show a reaction when Lady Miriam rolled them between her fingers through the tunic's rough fabric, but she couldn't suppress a surprised gasp when Lady Miriam pinched them. "Well, slave, have you got any skills?" the lady asked.

*The more skills I have, the more valuable I am, and the better care a buyer will take of me,* Sarah reminded herself. "All kinds, my lady," she said. "I can cook and clean and tend animals, and I'm a skilled seamstress."

"*All* kinds?" The lady's voice was amused, but Sarah didn't dare look to see if she was smiling. "Still," Lady Miriam continued, "a seamstress might be useful in my household." Without warning, her hand ran up under the tunic to probe between Sarah's legs.

Sarah's startled cry earned her a slap from the slavebroker.

"A distinct possibility," Lady Miriam said to him, wiping her fingers on an embroidered handkerchief. "You know my tastes. Show me any others that might interest me."

They walked on down the row. Sarah was left to reconsider her assumption that a female buyer would not be interested in her sexually.

The sun was almost overhead now. Several more prospective buyers came by, and a slave with a dipper of water. Sarah was beginning to feel dizzy from nerves and standing in the sun. She closed her eyes for an instant. When she opened them, Lady Miriam and Zeb, the slavebroker, were standing in front of her.

"Let me see her," Lady Miriam demanded.

Zeb untied the front of Sarah's tunic and pushed it back over her shoulders to bunch around her cuffed hands. She blushed as she felt the warm sun and the woman's gaze on her exposed skin. Lady Miriam took Sarah's chin in her hands and examined her face. Sarah didn't find it hard to remember not to meet her eyes.

"I'll take her," Lady Miriam said, stepping back. "Deliver her to my townhouse this afternoon. I'll want her collared, with my usual options." She started to turn away, paused. "Oh, what's she called?"

"Sarah, my lady," Zeb answered.

"I don't think I have any other Sarahs. That name will do, then." Lady Miriam looked directly at Sarah, who was still completely naked before her. "You're mine, now, Sarah."

Sarah felt tears pressing hard at the back of her throat.

---

Two attendants replaced Sarah's tunic, unhooked her from the post, and hustled her over to a pavilion at the edge of the square. A liveried servant arrived with a purse of gold from Lady Miriam, and the accountant recorded the sale on a tablet. A cord with a clay seal was affixed to Sarah's cuffed wrist as a receipt. She felt dazed, docilely going along with whatever was required of her. Struggling wouldn't have done any good, anyway. She didn't have anywhere to go even if she could escape.

Sarah was pushed into a small, darkened area of the pavilion walled off from the rest by panels of striped fabric. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the relative darkness. Someone hit her expertly in the back of the knee, and she fell to her knees, blinking, onto an intricately decorated carpet. As her eyes aclimated, she saw that the little cubicle was occupied only by a brazier and a man in a dark robe. A mage. She had never seen one this close up before. His eyes were distant, and he smelled of incense.

One of the attendants handed the mage a seal ring. "For Lady Miriam Asher," he said. The mage raised something before Sarah that gleamed in the dim light. When her eyes focused, she realized it was a metal collar. Choosing a variety of small, colored stones from a pouch, he passed them one by one through the thin smoke from the brazier and pressed them against the collar. Each time he did, there was a flash of colored light and the smell of hot metal. The stones remained embedded in the metal. Sarah was intrigued and terrified. As a child, she had always longed to see magic performed, but she was deeply afraid of what the purpose of this magic might be. The mage finished altering the collar. "Name?" he asked.

It took a moment for Sarah to realize she was being addressed. "Um. Sarah, your potency," she said.

"Sarah," he said. He placed the collar around her neck and pressed the ring hard over the clasp. There was a bright white flash, and Sarah felt an unsettling tingle and prickle all over.

"You won't be able to remove the collar without killing yourself, so don't try," the mage said in a bored tone.

The attendants lifted her to her feet and took her out to another wagon. She was about to be delivered to her new owner.

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AnonymousAnonymousover 2 years ago

VERY interested in the next chapter...!

AnonymousAnonymousabout 12 years ago
great

it took for ages to clear up all the cum after this story

fitntrimfitntrimover 12 years ago
Love this type of tale!

Perfect, thanks, much more please.

AnonymousAnonymousover 12 years ago
so hot

so so i came 2 times while reading

2275jr2275jrover 12 years ago
she now being taken by a horny woman

love the somw what erotic story now on to her to being taken and raped sevvitude and sluttiness

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