(i)

 

Pippa's master watched her as she ran beside his saddle. The pretty blonde had a strap running from her collar to his stirrup and she dared not slacken her pace. Her long hair streamed out behind her. Her hips and buttocks were pleasantly rounded and they jiggled from side to side with each step she took, and her short split skirt also flicked from side to side. She was topless, and her breasts bounced prettily as she ran. Her master had pierced her nipples and nose the night before, and the tiny rings he had inserted gleamed in the bright sun as she moved. Her legs were long and slender and toned, and her stomach was flat and smooth. Noruo was pleased with his purchase. The dealers had said she was a virgin, aged eighteen. He did not usually trust oiku, but on this occasion they had been proved honest. She had indeed been a virgin. They were probably telling the truth about her age too.

The girl was already coated in sweat. Her lips were parted and she was gasping for breath. She was looking straight ahead and concentrating on running. She did not waste any more effort on complaining or whimpering. He sensed that the girl was exhausted, but Imperial girls were lazy and he wanted to toughen her up. Later he would run her naked, Noruo decided. Completely naked. Slave girls, especially newly enslaved girls, hated being run naked, he knew, but she was pretty and it would do her no harm for a few days, while they crossed the Great Plateau. He had watched girls at the Arena in Akkad running naked and found it quite entertaining. Here in the desert he could run her for miles before nightfall. Later, when they reached the mountains, it would be too cold for such simple pleasures.

Pippa's short, flared skirt moved and swayed from side to side, and Noruo could see the deep purple stripe left by his whip across her thighs, just above her knees. She had stumbled and fallen earlier, and lain there crying instead of standing up immediately. Noruo had dismounted and applied the borbodhide whip across the back of her thighs. It had been a single stroke, but a hard one. She had squealed, and the purple welt had formed almost immediately, but he did not consider that he had been too severe with the girl. She was a slave. She had inconvenienced him. He was not a cruel man, he thought, but neither was he permissive. It was better she learned sooner rather than later what was expected of her. She would also have to learn his language. His wife would teach the girl; it was beneath Noruo's dignity to teach a slave girl himself. He would give her a few months to grasp the basics. He hoped she was not stupid. If she was a slow learner, she would certainly become better acquainted with his whip. There was no finer cure for stupidity and laziness than a borbodhide whip.

Pippa fell down only once more that day. This time she scrambled nimbly to her feet and apologised profusely, begging for forgiveness with her palms pressed together. She wished she knew the Irtukoi word for 'sorry'. Her master did not seem angry this time, though. He neither dismounted nor castigated her. Indeed, from time to time Noruo stopped to allow her to drink some water and briefly rest. At one such stop he relieved her of the heavy backpack and strapped it to the saddle instead. Gratefully, Pippa trotted at his stirrup.

(ii)

 

Aimee Pembroke was going to be caned.

She was standing on the stage of the crowded lounge bar in the Maidens of Nenuphar, a popular brothel, or 'pleasure house,' as such establishments were known in Akkad City. She was fastened in a stock, a plank of wood with three holes cut into it to hold her neck and wrists immobile. The timber was thick, so that her chin was raised and her head was lifted. She made a pretty sight, with her sweet face held snugly in the stock and her eyes wide with fear. Her long blonde hair was hanging down in two kittentails. Her wrists were held in place each side of her neck. Two other slave girls named Anthea and Lucie were each holding one end of the heavy stock in case Aimee tried to struggle, although there was little she could do except to try to curl into a ball. Her ankles had already been strapped to the legs of the flogging stool, so that her legs were stretched wide apart. Anthea and Lucie felt desperately sorry for the new girl. They knew what was going to happen next; but each was relieved that it was not herself in the stock this evening, and each was determined to do her job properly.

The lounge bar was busy with customers. Pretty, scantily clad pleasure slaves were busily fetching and carrying drinks or simply sitting with the gentlemen. There were more girls, dressed even more scantily, dancing on the stage and even on top of the bar where customers could reach out and touch them. The coloured lights were flashing and music was playing.

Aimee was wearing a very short white dress which scarcely covered the tops of her thighs. It had a narrow waist which drew attention to her lovely figure. She had a slim waist, rounded buttocks, flaring hips and long legs. On her dress was a badge prominently bearing the number '51.' Aimee already knew what the number was for. Any man who visited the pleasure house and wanted her services but did not know her name could simply ask for her by number.

A large wad of cloth filled Aimee's mouth completely, and her lips, which in happier times so often smiled, had been taped shut. She felt the cloth gradually expanding as it became damp. It was uncomfortable. She could breathe through her nose and make muffled moans or whimpers, but anything approaching clear speech was denied to her until the gag was removed.

She blushed beautifully, conscious that she was the centre of so much attention and realising that as her hands were pulled back and lifted, her breasts were thrust forward and pressed against the thin fabric of her dress. The audience clearly appreciated the sight with which they were presented. There were murmurs of approval, and a number of shouts and catcalls, most of them indecent. Mrs Knott, the manageress, smiled. It was a good natured Wednesday night crowd, waiting to be entertained and willing to pay for it. Mrs Knott did not anticipate any unpleasantness.

Aimee, on the other hand, anticipated considerable unpleasantness. The flogging stool was immediately in front of her. She had been afraid even before she saw the structure, but actually seeing it and knowing that in a few moments she would be bent over it and strapped in place, made her predicament seem more real, more immediate and more terrifying. She looked at the sea of faces around her. Dismayed, she knew that soon she might be required to serve as a pleasure slave for any of those men, if they could afford the modest sum of a few solidi. Aimee had been a virgin when she was abducted. Now she was a slave in a brothel.

Aimee felt Binka untying the strap behind her neck, which held the dress in place. Sensing that she was to be publicly disrobed, Aimee desperately tried to turn to Mrs Knott and beg her to reconsider, but she was unable to turn, and the words emerged only as a frightened whimper which amused the audience but did not delay Binka from unfastening the dress so that it dropped to the floor. Binka stooped gracefully to retrieve it.

Aimee was now exposed to public view with only the tiny triangles of a small white bra and skimpy panties to protect her modesty. The bra was fastened with ribbons tied behind her neck and back, and the panties were fastened with ribbons at each hip.

She was mortified to be exposed in such scanty attire but unable to move her hands or feet. She instinctively tried to crouch down and curl into a foetal position but Lucie and Anthea had been warned to expect something like this and they strained hard to support each end of the stock to keep her upright. Mrs Knott uttered the sharp commend, "Hold still!" and reinforced it with two sharp strokes of her rattan cane applied to the back of Aimee's thighs, just below her buttocks. The manageress wanted Aimee to understand quite clearly that her behaviour now, and always, must be compliant and obedient in all ways.

Aimee squealed in shock and pain, arching her body forward so suddenly that the two girls supporting her were almost thrown off balance, but after that she remained still. She was gasping for breath and shaking, but determined not to risk receiving any further reminder to behave. On the table where a group of university students were sitting, one of the young men called out, "Ouch!" in pretended pain, and the others laughed good humouredly.

"Gentlemen, please! Gentlemen, ladies and gentlemen, a few words if you please," announced Mrs Knott cheerfully. "I have pleasure in introducing to you a young lady named Aimee. Aimee is the star of our Entertainment tonight. She is a lovely young lady as you can see. She is well educated, and she was a virgin until very recently. She is very inexperienced. She only arrived here at The Maidens a few days ago. She is shy, but very keen to learn, and she wants to please you, but you will need to teach her. I'm sure you'll find her a quick learner."

"Oh," continued Mrs Knott after the cheers and catcalls died down, "I believe I forgot to mention to Aimee that here at the Maidens we like a girl to be bare when she is stretched over the stool. I always think that if a girl is bare, it adds a certain...pertinence to the occasion, don't you think?" The audience laughed and cheered and howled their approval.

Mrs Knott turned to Aimee. "Aimee, my dear, would you mind if Binka removes your underwear? You look lovely in it, but I think the gentlemen would like to see a little more of you." Aimee desperately shook her head and whimpered.

"Gentlemen, I told you Aimee is still rather shy," said Mrs Knott apologetically, and then added, "I shouldn't worry, Aimee dear, they don't really cover much of you anyway."

Amid the laughter and shouts of "Get them off," Binka pulled the cords which fastened Aimee's bra and allowed it to drop to the floor. The gentlemen were not disappointed. Her breasts, while not large, were firm and pointed beautifully forwards. Then Binka pulled the ribbons on Aimee's panties, first on her right and then on her left the left.

Aimee could not look down. The thickness of the stock prevented that, but she felt the last skimpy shreds of her modesty fall from her body and she knew that she was now displayed bare, entirely bare, with her breasts lifted and her legs stretched apart and her mons plucked smooth so that she was more exposed and more naked than she had ever been, exhibited for the delight of the spectators. The room erupted into a spontaneous roar of approval so loud that for a few moments even Mrs Knott could not make herself heard. Agonised, Aimee closed her eyes and tried to block what was happening from her mind.

But the spectators blocked nothing from their minds. They appreciated what they saw. Their cheers and catcalls made that plain. Mrs Knott stopped trying to speak for several moments and simply smiled proudly. She noticed that Aimee was glowing a deep shade of pink, burning with humiliation. That was good, the manageress thought. Very good. The gentlemen liked a girl who was shy. As long as she was obedient and did what she was told.

Aimee sensed someone else behind her. Straining to turn her head, she caught sight of a vision which made her heart sink. It was a man. Aimee noticed the muscles rippling on his bare arms. Mrs Knott handed the man the rattan rod.

Aimee thought she knew the man's name. It was Bowser, a male employee of the establishment. Bowser stepped forward, appearing to test the flexibility of the rod and making forceful whipping motions with it.

Aimee looked at the rod. It frightened her. She could not take her eyes off it. Like the flogging stool, the mere sight of the rattan made her predicament seem more horrible and real.

Mr Bowser is very strong, Aimee realised. He is going to cane me now, and he will use that rod.