Chapter 3

It was so warm and cozy, Page was not sure she wanted to wake up yet. But the odd beeping noises kept intruding into her pleasant buzz.

She tried to turn away for the sound but was unable to roll over. Her arms were restrained, the left one over her head and the right one down by her side. She groaned and opened her eyes, expecting to see the sculpted ceiling of the Rose House bedroom. Instead she was confused to see rough bars above her head.

She turned her head to assess her surroundings further but that set off what felt like a battering ram in her head and neck. The sudden pain made her eyes slam shut and her stomach lurch. She held very still until the barbarian horde retread and her stomach settled. With much more caution she opened her eyes again, moving slowly in an effort to keep the barbarians and battering ram at bay.

She looked down and saw she was covered by a strange blanket that seemed to be filled with air. It was the source of the warm feeling she had enjoyed a few moments ago. She could also see an IV tube coming out from under the blanket near her right arm. She must have an IV. What is going on?

"Are you awake?" The voice, a man's voice, came from down hear her feet. She slowly lifted her head to see but also alerted the barbarians to renew their assault behind her eyes. She again squeezed her eyes closed and tried to keep from vomiting.

"Hello, ... are you awake?" The voice said again, much nearer this time. "Can you hear me? Do you know your name?"

"P ... Page"

"Good ... very good. We know that much from your collar but not much else. Glad you got that right. You were picked up at the auction house after the explosion. I don't know what you were doing there; you do not look like their class of product."

"Am I ... am I ok?"

"Yes, I think so. You were brought in with your friend unconscious. We think you hit your head pretty hard and breathed some smoke too. You were showing signs of shock so we gave you some fluids, got you warmed up and put the monitor on you in case you took a turn. Are you hurting anywhere?"

"Head ... hurts ... hurts behind my eyes."

"Yea, that's the bump on the head. Lay still for a while and I will check back with you. I need to check on your friend."

Lord Blackmon? Here? Hurt? The thoughts raced through her and she jerked in her bonds. But that just produced another wave of nausea.

"Hey now, be cool. I will be back in a minute. Don't worry."

Page calmed herself. She was afraid to open her mouth again to speak; sure that what would come out had nothing to do with communication.

Page had learned much about self-control and discipline in the years she had been a slave. Pain was a familiar companion, though one she had not greeted in a while. There had been times that the pain had blazed too hot to endure, but to move only made the pain worse. She had learned, no she had been trained, to endure much worse than this pain blasting behind her eyes.

Page began to level out her breathing. Once she had her breathing in a smooth and slow rhythm she began to relax her muscles. She did not try all of them at once, but worked very carefully from one area to another. She began with her face, relaxing her forehead and the muscles around her eyes. This seemed to push the battering ram barbarians back some.

She continued working outward from there. She relaxed the tension in her face, then neck, then jaw, allowing the sensation to slowly spread downward. She found the process quite easy even though she had not needed it in some time. She followed the process down her arms and legs, even relaxing the tension in her hands and feet. It was a great feeling, an empowering feeling to be in control of her body, even if it was chained down to a strange bed. A small smile crept to the corners of her mouth as another thought came to mind. This sure was easier to do when the process was not interrupted by the stoke of a cane across my ass or breast.

She continued the process, sending wave after wave of calm thoughts through her body until she felt like she was able to rest quietly again.

The process was interrupted by a small voice.

"Hey, are you ok? Hello?"

Page turned her head very slowly to the right. She was glad the barbarians did not counterattack when she did. She slowly opened her eyes, looking for the source of the voice. She thought it would be another attendant. Instead she saw the voice was coming from the figure on the bed next to her. The girl, a slave like her, was chained with both hands over her head. Her face was hidden by her long black hair and her body was covered by a simple blanket. Her left leg was in a brace and elevated about the bed with another blanket folded up underneath.

Page wet her lips to make sure they would work.

"Hi, I am, I am a little better. How are you?"

"The doctor said I wrenched my knee pretty good, I will have trouble walking for a while. He said there was nothing broken or torn. That is good I guess."

"Good. Ah, do you know what happened?"

The girl grabbed the bar her hands were chained to and tried to pull herself up a little. The shift must have put some strain on the injured knee because she gave a yelp and quit moving.

"Wow, that hurt. Ah, I heard the driver and the doctor talking a while ago. Then news is says it was a bomb outside the building. A lot of people were hurt."

"The slave auction?"

"Yea, I guess. They had just brought me in the door. When the bomb went, ... you know, ... I was knocked into you and that guy you were with. I managed to pull you and him outside before I twisted my knee and fell. I guess I hit my head when I fell."

"You pulled us out? You pulled Lord Blackmon and me out?"

"Yea, he was on top of you and I had to move him to get to you. I just got him clear then got you. I ... don't remember much after that until the van ride here."

Page was stunned. This young girl saved her life and the life of her master. She tried to remember the events, so much was just flashes of images and sensation.

"What is your name?"

"Willow."

"How long have you been a slave?"

"Just today. Mom sold me today. She took me to the auction to sell ... sell my virginity ... My Mom ... my birthday..." The young girl began to sob from a pain much worse than her injured leg. This was weeping from the depths of hell.

Page had seen so much in her time as a slave. Most slaves were created by Judicial Enslavement. The courts could enslave a woman for almost any crime. Even issues such as late credit card payments could be used to put a woman up for sale.

However many were created by betrayal. A sex partner or even a parent, such as Willow's mother, could arrange the evidence and enslave a girl for monetary gain or advantage. Willow's heartbreak had been echoed many times by many girls. Whether her value was as a maid, whore, or factory worker, the girls were sold out, literally, by those they loved or trusted the most.