Slavery Ch. 01

For the hundredth time, Alana wished that she knew what the men in front of her were talking about. The man whom she had come to think of as her 'keeper' seemed to be trying to dissuade another man from viewing her. It was strange behaviour; since she had woken up in this man's care, he had done nothing but try to sell her. The new man didn't seem too bad. For starters, he looked human. He was around six foot five, lean and had an attractive face. He carried an air of arrogance, but if that was his only bad quality, then Alana hoped he would be her buyer.

The potential purchaser ran out of patience. She watched as he barged past her keeper, coming to a halt in front of her naked form. She looked at the floor as was deemed proper. The bruises on the back of her legs reminded her of all of the times that she had forgotten this rule. He spoke, and when she didn't respond her roughly gripped her chin, forcing Alana to face him. Tearing her face free of his grip, she glared fiercely at him. She had changed her mind. She did not like this man.

Alana's skin prickled as his cool gaze studied her face and naked body. Her arms were tied to a post behind her, a position which thrust out her breasts invitingly. The man pinched a nipple. His hand trailed lazily down Alana's stomach, the pushed its way between her thighs. Clamping her legs together, Alana hoped that he wouldn't want to explore further. Her hope, as usual, was short lived.

Her keeper offered the man a pot that Alana knew contained oil. It was provided for customers to feel how tight she was without damaging the goods, so to speak. The man refused the oil and forced a finger against Alana's dry sex. His fingers were long, thick, causing her to gasp as one probed her entrance. He met her gaze then thrust his finger mercilessly into her. Alana hated herself when a whimper escaped her throat. The man left his finger inside her as he spoke to her keeper, occasionally wriggling it, hoping for a reaction. He got none. Alana had played this game several times now, enough to know that schooling her face into an expressionless mask was the safest way to avoid a beating.

When the man walked away, Alana was relieved. Her relief, like her hope, was short lived. When other keepers came to untie her, she knew that the man had purchased her. It was still the middle of the day, and the sale room was full of customers. Nausea settled into the pit of her stomach and she felt herself trembling. A grey shift was forced over her head to cover her nakedness. Alana felt dizzy, panicked. She looked around at the familiar pedestals with girls displaying themselves, looked at the familiar faces of the men who had cared for her, and beaten her when she disobeyed. After twelve days of repetition, the unexpected change was a shock.

Alana's legs gave way under her, and the keepers on either side hauled her up between them. They marched her out of the front of the building, and into the blazing sunshine. Alana blinked. It was the first time that she had been outside since she had woken up bound by the men who had sold her. The sky, whilst still blue, seemed wrong. It took her a moment to realise that the sun was a light green colour, instead of the bright yellow that she was used to. The air was hot and humid; desperately she wished to be back in the cool of the sale room. Sweat was beading on her brow, and she could already feel it trickling down her back.

The man who had purchased her was suddenly before them. He pointed to the river, to a boat that sat upon it. It was long, almost like a barge but with open sides. The roof was a fabric canopy. Guards stood along the sides of it, armed gauds with armour and swords. The world twisted and spun. Alana had known that she wasn't on Earth, but seeing the evidence with her own eyes was too shocking. Many of the women for sale had been clearly alien, but she had managed to convince herself she was fine.

A gigantic insect landed softly on her forearm as her knees gave way for the second time. Alien voices drifted across to her from a distance as blackness engulfed her. Strong arms lifted her, but she couldn't see who they belonged to. Then the world was gone.

Alana woke to the sound of female voices chattering. She strained to recognise a word, but failed. Slowly, she opened her eyes. She was laid on her back on the floor, her arms tied uncomfortably behind her. A canopy was above her, and she remembered the boat. The world was tipping gently from side to side, and she knew that they were on it, moving steadily towards wherever she would spend the rest of her days of slavery. The thought made her shudder.

A guard loomed over her. His hands wrapped around her upper arms and yanked her roughly into an upright position. The chatter had stopped.

"Drink." It was one of the few words that she knew. Gratefully, she opened her mouth as a sweet tasting liquid was poured into it. Alana swallowed, and then opened her mouth again. It was only when her thirst was quenched that Alana finally was able to look around.

The boat was wider than it had originally looked. Guards lined the sides, all in identical clothing. They seemed ridiculously tall; certainly they were all taller than the man who had purchased her, which put them at almost seven feet. Their armour was a dark bronze that gleamed in the sun. They wore a breast plate and helmets, not unlike the armour the Romans would have worn. The swords were curved however, the word scimitar filling Alana's mind. The men were broad and heavily muscled, and seemed to stand impossibly still. The skirt they wore, again similar to the Romans, was a deep blue in colour, but made them look no less masculine.

A giggle filled the air, and Alana turned. There were two women sat close together at the side of her. They lounged on cushions that were piled against the side of the boat. Alana recognized a small tattoo on the inside of their left ankles, identical to hers. The women were also slaves, but were not bound. Their faces seemed familiar, and she realised that they had been purchased with her. She assumed that most slaves would be unbound as they were. In the sale rooms, most of the races had been untied, and had been free to display themselves as they saw fit. It was only herself and two others that had been tied. There had been no other humans.

Alana had a moment of self-consciousness that seemed wholly inappropriate to the situation. She should be glad that she was the least attractive, she told herself, but couldn't help feeling a little more miserable. One of the women had skin that glistened golden in the sun. It was not merely tanned, but metallic. Her hair hung down her back in tight copper curls, and her eyes were a strange shade of silver. Her body was perfect, slender and lithe. The other woman was as white as it was possible to be. Her hair was raven, that strange bluey-black, and hung poker straight. Her face had a severe beauty to it, her lips blood red. When she smiled, Alana could see that she had fangs. If she hadn't been lounging in a patch of sun, Alana might have thought her vampire.

Both women had sheer silver fabric covering them. The fabric was scattered with crystals, and looked very expensive. Slaves were not permitted to wear colour, but this seemed like a luxurious alternative. The women looked at her. The vampire-like one spoke. When Alana simply looked puzzled, she laughed, then turned back to her companion. Alana's cheeks heated and she was relieved when the man who had offered her a drink earlier came back.

Alana was dragged to her feet. She swayed a little, but managed to stay upright. From here she could see that the water was the wrong colour. It was too green, too clear. The man grabbed the hem of her shift and lifted it over her head. As he stepped away, she could see the man who had purchased her watching her coolly from the helm. He wasn't steering, but was lounging next to a man who was, basking in the strange coloured sunlight. Alana quickly lowered her gaze, not wanting to add to her bruises for being too bold.

It was strange that, apart from the height, the men could pass for human. Their skin was a caramel colour, but not unusual. The race seemed to have large, slanted eyes, and generous lips, but they would be considered exotic on Earth, not alien. It was all very unsettling.

Alana really hadn't paid much attention to the fact that, once again, she was naked until she heard a peel of laughter from behind her. Tears welled up in her eyes. She couldn't compete with beauty like theirs. Her skin was pale, but not the flawless white of the vampire woman. Her eyes were dark brown, almost black, but certainly not exotic looking. Her hair was brown, and had slices of blonde laced through it. It was so blonde that it was almost white. Alana really hoped that she hadn't been bought because of that, since it would grow out. Even her body wasn't amazing. She was curvy, heavier than she would have liked to be.

Glancing up, Alana caught the guard looking admiringly at her chest. That made her smile a little. Even when his hand brushed her nipple as he put a rectangle of fabric over her head, she didn't mind. Her sheer silver dress was different from the other girls. It was literally a large rectangle with a hole in the centre, where her head fitted through. The edges of the fabric, including the hole, were encrusted with crystals that caused the fabric to hang nicely. A belt was wrapped around her small waist, making the style quite flattering.

The guard disappeared behind her, roughly brushing her hair. He started to pin it back from her face. Next, he stood before her and dusted her face, arms and legs with a shimmery powder. Finally, her eyes were rimmed with kohl.

The boat bumped the side of a jetty, and the guards started to file off. The man who had bought her stepped off the boat, and then she and the others were escorted behind him. They were marched over the grass to a large villa. Alana had seen something similar in Greece once; all white walls and delicate purple flowers, dark wooden balconies and tiled fountains. It was truly stunning. Was she to live here? Even as a slave she could appreciate the simplistic elegance.

Once in the building, Alana was looked over, as were the other two. She felt a little smug as a man, who was dressed in what looked like a kimono, tutted and fussed with miss metalic's hair. Alana then felt guilty. Her nerves started to rise as the procession of guards reached a room with a lot of noise in it. The women were marched through the door and onto a raised platform. Desperate to look around, Alana pretended to be gazing at the floor whilst she peeked through her hair. Her legs trembled at the sight before her; they were in a grand hall that was filled with soldiers. Each one was staring at the front as silence descended. Her purchaser took his place before the slaves, and addressed his audience.

Not understanding a word, Alana tuned out as he spoke. The girls beside her seemed to be bristling with nervous energy. Would they be given to the men to share? She hoped not, almost as much as she longed to be away from the man with the cold eyes who had touched her so roughly earlier.

A cheer erupted through the room, startling Alana. She felt as though she would vomit. A few more words were spoken, and then another cheer rang out. This one was more subdued. Alana could see the crowd parting. She longed to look up, but what she could see was enough to terrify her. The legs that walked through the parted crowd were the wrong colour. They were a purple colour. When they caught the light they seemed to glisten with a silvery sheen. She thought of miss metallic next to her. The room fell silent as the man approached the slaves. Alana dared to glance up quickly, her breathe freezing in her chest. The man who stood before them was the tallest in the room, around seven and a half feet of muscle. He wore a wrap around his waist, but that was all. His black hair hung in long dreadlocks, and his eyes were ringed with kohl. Through his parted lips, Alana could glimpse pointed teeth. There was something very feline about him.

The woman on the end of the row, the vampire look alike, started to whimper as he studied her. As he reached out to touch her, she let out a scream. A guard that Alana hadn't realised was behind them hit her around the back of the head, stunning her into silence. The man before them moved on. Miss metalic's response was also strange. For two women who seemed happy to be sold into slavery, they sure were unhappy with current proceedings. Tears streaked her face and she visibly trembled, more so than Alana who felt very fragile. The man again reached out a hand, then let it drop as miss metallic stumbled backwards into the guard. The man sighed as he finally stood before Alana.

Alan looked up. She met the feline, blood red eyes of the warrior in front of her. His face was blank of any emotion. He reached out a hand to touch her, and raised an eyebrow when she allowed him to caress her cheek. She tried not to flinch, and almost succeeded. Compared to the other two, her reaction was positively encouraging. As the man dropped his hand, she continued to stare. A small smile had crept across his face, and once again, Alana could see his strange teeth.

A sharp blow to the back of her head sent her staggering into him. He caught her by her upper arms. Alana met his eyes and saw a ferocity there that hadn't been present a moment ago. She had been staring at him. She wasn't supposed to look ahead of her, only at the floor. Would he strike her? She prayed not as he was so big he would surely do her some serious damage. As his hand raised, she flinched and started stammering apologies that he couldn't understand. Alana whimpered as his hand gently brushed her cheek, and then froze as it examined her head where she had been struck. His glare was aimed at the guard behind her. The purple man said a few words to the man who had bought her, and was handed a silver ring on the front of which had some sort of logo. It was unclipped, then wrapped around Alana's neck. It was snug, but not uncomfortable. As the purple warrior took Alana by the arm, she realised that she had been given to him.

As she moved through the parted sea of soldiers, Alana felt numb. A huge hand on her shoulder forced her to kneel on a cushion as everyone sat on wooden benches. Alana kept her eyes trained on the floor. Did she really belong to this man? A finger lifted her chin, and she was forced to look up. She wanted to shut her eyes, but was afraid of retribution. The two girls left on the stage were looking coquettishly up from under their hair, as another warrior examined them. He was of the race that seemed to populate the planet, caramel skin and model good looks. All hysterics were over, and when the women were gifted to one man and then another, they seemed thrilled. Alana wondered what was wrong with her man.

Shyly, Alana glanced at him. He was studying her. Before she could look away, he pointed to himself.

"Azeric". He repeated it three times before Alana caught up. She pointed to herself.

"Alana."Azeric smiled, and then repeated her name. His accent was strange, thick and harsh. He sounded a little bit like the Russians on Earth. He stroked her hair reassuringly with his huge hand, then stood. He pulled her up, gesturing to the cushion. Alana picked it up and clutched it to her. The room had gone strangely silent. Azeric guided her ahead of him, a hand on her back propelling her forwards. Everyone was staring. Was it because he was a different race from them all? It was so obvious that he wasn't one of them. She shivered. Maybe it was because they all knew why she had been gifted to him. Would he hurt her? Eat her. Alana felt dizziness encroaching on her consciousness again.

As Alana was pushed through a set of double doors, she felt the floor rise up to meet her. Strong arms lifted her before she hit the tiles, Azeric scooping her against his chest as she passed out for the second time.

The room that Alana awoke in was dark. She flinched as a hand stroked hair from her face. Azeric. Alone in a room with him, he seemed so much larger. Unable to really think clearly, Alana croaked one of the only words she knew.

"Drink." Thankfully, Azeric complied. He handed her a glass full of cool, sweet liquid. Alana wished she knew how to thank him. It occurred to her that she should be serving him. Greedily, she gulped down the liquid, only realising as she handed the glass back that she was shaking. It was freezing in the room. As Azeric moved towards her, she realised that she was lying on a large bed. He sat next to her, then laid beside her, effortlessly lifting her so that she lay across his chest.

He was so warm. Alana couldn't find the energy to be afraid as she nestled against him. His hand stroked her back through the thin fabric she was clothed in. He was surprisingly gentle and soothing. Alana relaxed, her body limp and malleable, fitting pleasantly against his solid form. It wasn't until something beneath her thigh started to solidify that she stiffened in his arms. Alana had been so scared of his huge form and alien looks that she had forgotten that he was male.

"No." It was the only word that Alana knew except for drink. It escaped her lips in an almost breathless plea. Azeric sighed beneath her, and set her gently on her back, on the mattress. Alana gazed at him as he rolled onto his side, his eyes searching her face for something. She wasn't sure what. He leaned forward, slowly, deliberately. Alana seemed to stop breathing. A soft kiss was planted on her forehead before Azeric climbed from the bed. He opened a huge wardrobe and removed a thick blanket which he draped over Alana. He lay back down again, but made no move to touch her. She curled up, grateful for the warm fabric and shut her eyes. She didn't think she would sleep with him watching her, but somehow she managed it.