Chapter 3: Sold into slavery

The next day the merchant resumes our journey to a nearby town. We arrive at a slave trader’s compound around mid-morning and I’m promptly examined by several men. I presumed they’re prospective buyers, although I can’t be sure. In any event, the six of us are released from our waist chains and locked in a large cage. Later we are temporarily removed from the cage one at a time and taken to a small room. There the back of my right shoulder is tattooed with the some markings that I presume indicate that I’m a slave.

Over the next few days we are joined by other slaves until the cage becomes very crowded. Occasionally some of us, either alone or in groups, are removed from the cage and taken somewhere else. A few return later, but most are never seen by us again. I later learn that those removed from the cage are taken to a display room to be auctioned to the highest bidder.

Twice I’m taken from the cage and made to stand on a platform. Each time my clothes are removed and I’m made to stand in different positions. Communication is a problem, and when I never talk in response to their commands, the men running the slave market assume that I don’t understand their language. Apparently that’s a common enough occurrence, although it pushes down my price. Each time I’m put on display, the few bids for me are rejected, and I’m returned to the cage.

I’m not sure why the merchant who owns me doesn’t accept any of the offers made for me. He clearly wants a higher price, but my apparent refusal to speak means higher offers aren’t forthcoming. The other five slaves he acquired with me are all sold the first time they are put on display. After the second failure to attract an acceptable offer for me, the merchant removes me from the market and we take to the road again.

I’m not the only slave the merchant is marching south. He must have bought five other slaves while I was languishing in the cage. The others are all muscular men who would probably appeal to a quarry or mine owner. Those industries have a high fatality rate among slaves, so replacements are always in high demand. Certainly the merchant is taking no chances of them running off. Their wrists and ankles are kept in chains, and a heavy neck collar is linked to the slave in front. I am spared the chains and collar, but my obedience is ensured by stripping me naked. I’m given a small loin cloth to wear which seems to be the standard female slave clothing in these parts.

Being naked doesn’t bother me. Ever since Aafiq had me pose nude for his paintings, I’ve been undressed in front of others countless times. Nevertheless, I’m careful to keep my distance from the male slaves. Despite their wretched situation, each one of them has lust in their eyes when they look in my direction. To be honest, I get a slight thrill when I notice them admiring and lusting over me. The size of their erect cocks arouses me in a way wholly inappropriate for my current situation.

The merchant is another who would like to fuck me. However, my virginity is something that raises my price, so he settles for an alternative. He has me give him a hand job every night before we go to sleep. I worry that it might be a prelude to him deciding to sodomise me. However, he again he shows considerable restraint once he realises that my arsehole is too tight for him to push his cock in there without doing considerable damage.

The male slaves are well aware of the nightly service I provide to the merchant. By the time I’ve finished with the merchant, more than one of the slaves has an erect cock straining against the confines of his loin cloth. I take pity on one of them who seems to be in more distress than the others. I wait until the merchant is asleep and slide over to the bound men. I check that they are securely restrained, and that they can’t use their limited mobility to ravish me. I release the monster of a cock from the needy man’s briefs. I marvel at the size of it, and have tingly feelings at the thought of it ploughing my innards. But taking full advantage of this beast is dangerous in the extreme. Instead I settle for taking it into my mouth. For once, my lack of a tongue works to my benefit. I can accommodate the cock far enough down my throat to excite the man even further. A few minutes later he tips over the edge and sprays his cum down my throat and over my face when I jerk back in surprise.

After satisfying one of their fellow slaves, I feel less worried about being in the proximity of the men. They still lust over my body, which I do nothing to discourage. However, they treat me with respect in anticipation of some sexual relief at night. We are on the road for three days and nights, by which time I have given each of them at least one blow job or hand job.