Chapter 5

FRANCINE

"Where the Hell am I?"

Francine was regaining consciousness after her journey to another, harsher world. She tried to move her arms and found that they were tied behind her with a knot that she could not loosen. Her feet were bound and she was upright. As her head cleared she could see that she was tied to a kind of wooden frame and in the hot fierce burning heat of another sun than the one that had warmed her nubile young body on her own planet. She was thirsty. She was in pain. She was helpless. She was naked and her secrets displayed for all to see. For her legs were wide open and her feet secured to keep them that way.

Looking to right and left she saw four other young women, all similarly bound and similarly awakening to the horrors of a new and ghastly life away from family, friends and kindness. She must be dreaming this! Her recent fantasies had made her sleeping mind conjure up this grim vision. In a few minutes she would wake up.

A man appeared. He was large, he was bearded and he was holding a leather whip. A five bladed Slave Whip! A whip designed to cause pain but not leave permanent marks. A whip to punish but not reduce the value of precious merchandise. The Man walked up and down the row of terrified women. He used the whip well on each, bringing all out of their drug induced sleep and making them alive to their new reduced and hopeless circumstances.

Francine felt her body stirring in a new and exciting way as the leather cracked against her fair white and flawless flesh. Her blood ran through her veins with fiery warming fury. But she was still scared. She knew now, as the leather turned her marble whiteness to an angry red, that her wish had been granted and was not quite as pleased as she had thought she would be! She hadn't reckoned on this awful heat and dust and raging thirst.

A young woman came out of a tent near to where the slaves were tethered. She was tall and fair, barefoot and scantily clad. She carried a beaker full of water for the bearded Man. He took the beaker and drank from it. Francine wondered if she might be getting to drink soon herself. The sun was getting higher in the purple sky by the minute and her distress more acute with every second. The slave girl took the pitcher back inside the tent.

"'Tis thirsty work, whipping the newly arrived slaves." he laughed at the bound women. "And the whipping is not yet done, my saucy wenches!"

Francine felt anything but saucy! She had never felt less saucy in her life. Even though it was so wildly improbable, she knew she was on another planet. She thought it might be Gor, but was wrong. Gor was a fictional place. In time she would learn about her new home and her new and vindictive Mistress, the Lady Fortescue.

The Man wiped his mouth, having quenched his thirst. He swished the Slave Whip and stood over the thirsty Francine. He seemed to like what he saw and smiled broadly as he brought the blades heavily down on her breasts. Francine saw how strong the Man was. He wore only a brief thong and was barefoot like the Water Slave. She admired his muscles and her heart skipped a beat as they rippled with the effort of bringing his whip down on her quivering naked flesh.

"We'll get a good price for you, wench!" he said in his strange and guttural voice.

"This one's not for sale!" The voice came from behind Francine, who tried to twist her head round to see who the female voice belonged to.

"A pity, my Lady. We'd get a great price! But as my Lady wishes."

"You'd better believe it, Slave!"

So this Man was a slave himself. Hence the lack of clothing and the bare feet, thought Francine, who was trying to remember as much as she could of the book she had read.

The imperious voiced woman came round to face Francine. She looked at the Man Slave.

"Go and deal with the stupid Captain. Fifty lashes with the Grade Seven punishment whip. I'll teach him to be drunk on duty, falling around in a stupor and setting off the alarm and half wrecking the cloaking device! To say nothing of keeping me waiting for an hour while he sobered up enough to land the ship. After that, he's a slave like you and make sure he works hard."

There was obviously no policy of rehab for alcoholics in this part of the Galaxy. This was a harsh and brutal world indeed!