Sebastian's initial explorations were interesting, though the area was untypical of the planet. Around the main square of near the station, the buildings and businesses were very much like those in similar places throughout human civilisation. Banks, insurance offices, hotels, fast-food restaurants and clothing shops predominated, but he'd read enough to know that in the alleys between the main blocks he'd find something more interesting. He discovered a bar, well patronised by recent arrivals, where every stool and seat had a built-in oral slave, and the price of drinks included the use of the waiter or waitress. Something held him back from getting involved so quickly, and he wandered round the walls admiring the artwork. It consisted of slaves ingeniously displayed, artistically bound with elaborate rope windings to hold them in frames, sometimes with only parts of their bodies showing through apertures in the walls. One small frame contained nothing but a penis, drooping through its hole so forlornly that Sebastian thought it must be some kind of failure or mistake. Curiosity drove him to take it in his hand, and he was astounded at the speed with which it came erect, and its final size. All the displays were labelled with the price of the slave, though he found it difficult to believe that anyone would buy a male having seen nothing but his erection. Nevertheless his curiosity was piqued by two truly gigantic breasts that bulged through separate apertures. Another tourist was admiring them, circling one of the nipples with a forefinger. 'I wonder what her face is like', he remarked, turning to Sebastian.

He replied without hesitation. 'With tits like those, she doesn't really need a face.' Though the line wasn't wholly original, it soon went viral, attributed to a number of famous people, none of them Sebastian.

He didn't stay for a drink, but left to find and explore another alley, which led to a restaurant. The food on offer was mostly burgers and kebabs, but the unusual feature was the way it was served. Slavegirls or boys- the customer's choice- took bites and chewed them lightly before transferring the resulting mush to the diners' mouths. Though used to taking snacks from between Almya's teeth, the thought of the partially masticated meat made Sebastian quite nauseous, and he beat a hasty retreat. He returned to his suite, finding both the slaves in bed with Almya, their squeals of delight drowning the sound of his entrance. He watched them indulgently for a minute or two before coughing loudly, and they shot up like startled game birds, to kneel before him, heads down and awaiting punishment. He hastened to reassure them, but replaced them in the bed, and took an hour's nap before dinner. He liked Almya to take pleasure from others, though he'd never gone so far as to give her permission to masturbate. Opportunities at home had declined, unfortunately. The last time he'd lent her to Henrietta she'd come back with her breasts covered in whip marks, and he'd tended thereafter to keep her in his own apartments. She seemed happy enough there, busying herself with the household accounts and even advising him on his investments, but now she was obviously revelling in the attention of the two unfamiliar slaves. That continued over dinner, when he kept her hands behind her back, and she was fed by the others. The chamber slaves were surprised to be invited to the table, having their own little room where they usually ate and stayed when the guest wanted them out of the way. Some preferred the bathroom slave to be on duty whenever they were in the suite, even at night. The pair, who didn't seem to have names, found Sebastian a pleasant and easy assignment. Afterwards he tied them back to back, and released Almya's hands, just chaining her by an ankle to the bed. They spent the evening trying all the possibilities, finding that the black woman had exceptional oral skills. He left Almya almost free for the night, for it was the last she'd spend with him for at least ten days. They sent the pair away before they got up in the morning, and made love very slowly and tenderly. The white girl brought them breakfast in bed and the black woman showered them, and then it was time to start their first full day on Slavers' World.

 

***

 

Sebastian's holiday package didn't include a full-time guide, but a hotel employee came to show him and Almya to the omnibus, and downloaded detailed instructions for the rest of the day. They'd be spending the morning at the general market on the outskirts of the capital, a two-mile ride away. The omnibus was a faithful reproduction of a late nineteenth-century model, except that it was made of very much lighter and stronger materials, and had better springing. More obviously, it was pulled by human slaves, not horses. Sebastian had seen ponygirls and boys often enough on Ariadne, where racing them was a popular sport. These, however, were not bound in traditional harnesses, but enclosed in light alloy frames that kept them bent over, their torsos almost horizontal. Under their chests the bars were cushioned, though the females' breasts hung free through the gaps. The frames left most of their backs fully exposed to the driver's whip, and most showed some marks, both fresh and fading. Each bus- there were seven or eight entering, leaving or waiting in the square- was pulled by six ponies, arranged in same-sex pairs, and carried up to twenty passengers 'inside' or 'on top'. Sebastian and Almya chose the latter, and found the ride both invigorating and scenic. The pace was brisk on the level road, and they could look down on other vehicles, some electric, some slave-drawn, many of which were packed with slaves on their way to one market or another. They also spotted, leading two well-chained and big-breasted human women, a Folkish male, easily recognised as a fractionally over-sized version of a normal man. Somehow, although the smaller Folk were no larger than the largest human males and were anatomically similar, it was always possible to spot them. Generally their mouths were very slightly wider than average, with thin but prominent lips, like rubber tubes.

As they left the main built-up area the road descended a gentle incline, and watching another omnibus coming up, they realised that it was the cause of most of the ponies' whip marks. A fully loaded vehicle rattled along easily on the level, but was a severe burden on even the mildest gradient. The traffic was backed up at the stop by the market entrance, and as they crept forward Sebastian took Almya down the narrow spiral staircase and locked her hands behind her back. That was a requirement on the market premises. It was only when they got inside that he realised how big the place was; it covered half a dozen acres, with more storage and parking facilities outside the public area. He knew that it was the market for general-purpose slaves only; there was another some distance away, and others for every category of slave. It was therefore relatively compact, in the sense that it didn't need spaces to demonstrate ponies, galley slaves, athletes, wrestlers, or those with specialised skills of any kind. On the other hand, 'general-purpose' was by far the most numerous category. In many small households, no other kind was used. General-purpose slaves were expected to perform a wide range of functions, including cooking, cleaning and simple maintenance, but while still young they also provided sexual services, both to their owners and one another. They were much cheaper than pleasure slaves, and many owners thought them a better investment, buying them young, training them up, and making any necessary improvements to their appearance. They could also be trained as chefs, bookkeepers, gardeners, etc., without the owner having to pay the price for specialists. The trick was to detect, in only a few minutes, the ones that were likely to prove intelligent, willing and versatile.

The market seemed at first glance a bewildering place. Sebastian and Almya were constantly jostled by, and trying to stay out of the way of, hurrying slavers leading coffles of up to a dozen slaves, this way and that, constantly moving between different stalls as they sought the best price for their wares. The air was dusty from the chains that were dragged along the sandy ground, and there was no respite from the constant chink of metal against metal. The hundreds of slaves had developed a shuffling, sliding gait; the only way to maintain their owners' pace with their ankles chained about sixteen inches apart, and partly because of that, everyone seemed to be in a hurry. A few slaves- mostly unconscious- were being carried slung over poles. Sebastian later learnt that some masters, having bought them at the market, preferred them to wake up on their property, light-years away, to begin their lives anew.

Sebastian and Almya made their way as best they could to the perimeter, which was ringed by the traders' showrooms, purely for retail purposes. An effort had been made to separate a footpath to allow potential buyers to circulate freely, and at this time it was relatively quiet, the mornings generally seeing more wholesale business done. Each seller- and there were about twenty- maintained a large display tent. A few were quite plain and simple, with the wares bound to single upright poles or stretched between pairs. In the latter cases, reserved for the more attractive slaves, the poles could be swung down to the horizontal, forwards or backwards, and serious prospects were sometimes invited to 'try before you buy'. Anyone was welcome to touch, and to use their fingers to test for wetness, the accessibility of a slave's back passage, or the firmness of his or her lips. Most of the slaves were eager to please, especially as Sebastian was a handsome young man with a kindly face, and they could see at a glance that Almya was relaxed and happy in his company, despite her bondage. Conditions in the overnight pens were not luxurious and the guards were not all gentle, so most of the merchandise was hoping to be sold quickly. Those that proved difficult to move were often sold in batches to so-called 'scrap merchants', who disposed of them to cheap, secret dungeon-brothels on worlds where slavery was illegal.

A recent trend, adopted by most of the sellers, was to fit out the display area as a tableau- a kitchen, bedchamber, bathroom or dining room- in which the merchandise performed tasks, often the ones for which they were best suited. Potential customers could wander round these displays, touching and feeling, and sampling the services where possible. In many cases slaves were quite severely restrained, to demonstrate their ability to serve their masters and mistresses while in bondage. Doubtless they'd been coached carefully, or skills previously acquired were being exploited. One girl- slim and small-breasted but still quite pretty- was making, frying and even tossing pancakes with her hands locked behind her back, bending and twisting her body attractively in order to make the necessary movements. Another girl, in the very strict reverse-prayer position, squeezed lemon over them, sprinkled them with sugar, rolled them up, and offered bites for Sebastian and Almya to sample, using just her teeth and lips. He found it delicious- it wasn't a regular part of Ariadne's cuisine- and lingered over a kiss with her, even though she wasn't the right shape for him. Almya lingered for a minute with a young man who was locked to a treadmill that was powering a food mixer and a machine for whipping cream. She offered him one of her breast to suck, and he lost concentration, triggering an automatic arm that slashed a whip across his back. She jumped away in alarm, drawing a laugh from a few other customers who were watching. She came over for a piece of pancake; a much safer option. A much older woman was making cakes from the mixture that the young man's efforts produced, and some finished articles, beautifully decorated with latticework, flowers and lettering, all made with icing, showed that she was being sold almost purely as a pastry chef, despite her lifetime 'general-purpose' designation. To one side of the 'kitchen', an open fire was burning, with a hog roasting over it on a spit. It rotated steadily, turned by a bicycle-like mechanism on which a huge-breasted woman of about thirty was mounted, hands and feet locked in place. She had a dual function. Very nearby was a coffee dispenser for use by anyone who needed it. Although it was more fashionable to drink it black, anyone- including Sebastian- who preferred it with milk could take it from one of her breasts. How long the supply would last, he couldn't guess, for if she'd been a genuine hucow she'd have been sold at the livestock market. Round the back of the display, bound to posts, were 'spare' slaves of different shapes and sizes, two of whom looked like suitable replacements.

They left the 'kitchen' tableau, and stopped at one that showed a very luxurious bedroom with an en-suite shower and toilet, all open to the path on one side. Again they were able to wander round, but Almya wanted to pee, so the salesman sat her down on the toilet, which was fully functional. Afterwards a slavegirl, festooned in chains that made an attractive tinkling sound but didn't hamper her movements much, sponged her down, dried her off, and anointed her nether regions with moisturising cream, doing her breasts as well for good measure. Then she went lower again with her fingers, and despite Almya's age, she had her first completely public orgasm, emerging red-faced but happy. Sebastian was watching events in the bedroom, where the scene was not entirely realistic. Two slaves, a male and a female, were copulating on the bed, taking it slowly so as not to have to be replaced too often. Their lovemaking was carefully stylised to ensure that their strengths- both physical assets and techniques- were displayed to observers. Meanwhile a buxom young slavegirl, hands locked behind her back, was dusting the furniture and ornaments with a feather-tipped rod protruding from a panel gag, and slightly older woman had the more onerous duty of cleaning the ceramic floor with a sponge held in her mouth. A much older woman was sitting at an antique sewing machine, producing fine embroidery, while two males were assembling a flat-pack dressing table against the far wall. The bed was a four-poster, and in this tableau the spare slaves, two males and two females, were bound to the uprights, all wearing ring-gags. Both Sebastian and Almya noticed the sexual bias in both the displays they'd seen. Both included older women- no men- but there was no doubt that many customers who came to the general-purpose market were looking for cut-price pleasure slaves.

It was time for lunch, and they found that the restaurants were incorporated into the outer ring of stalls. With a taste for fast food, Sebastian chose a hamburger place, which happened to be the first they came to. Interestingly the food was served by waitresses in uniform, but the clothes were token strips of vinyl that did nothing to conceal their charms. Although their hands were joined only by short lengths of chain, they were hobbled and could only take very short steps. They also had price tags attached to their wrists, as did the males who served the diners orally, kneeling on the floor by the stools. Sebastian didn't use his, but he was happy to see Almya served while he fed her. The oral slaves also had price tags; in the whole market complex there were very few slaves that were not for sale. He did need sex, and when he stopped an attractive waitress to ask her whether there were any girls available for floor duty, she knelt by his side and went down on him herself. Her initiative and skill impressed him, and she had big boobs, so he scanned her price tag for future reference.

The price tags looked simple, but concealed a chip that was a mine of information about the slave that wore it. Obviously it included all vital statistics and measurements, but there was usually a full account of the slave's history; whether he or she was bred, captured, or sentenced for an offence, and if so, what kind of offence. Special skills, sexual or otherwise, were included, any treatments and bodily modifications, and previous ownership. Scanning it briefly, Sebastian found that the girl who'd just fellated him had been a sex-slave of the alien S'sith, which made her rather more interesting. There was no reason given for her sale, or her classification as a general-purpose, rather than a pleasure slave.

After lunch they had a few minutes to spare, and used them to visit the punishment area, which was open to them because of Sebastian's special pass. The stallholders never punished their slaves in front of the general public; that would suggest that their goods were imperfect. Slaves who were suspected of not striving to the limit of their abilities to secure buyers were sent to a more secluded area. There they were whipped, always gagged to prevent their screams from being heard by potential customers. The punishments were delivered by expert whipmasters and mistresses who paid for the opportunity to practice their art. They were competitors in the sport of precision whipping, in which the pattern of marks, and the pain inflicted, would be combined in a final score. There were no actual contests on Slavers' World, but it was a popular place for out-of-season training. The punishments were administered, usually, with the slave hanging in an 'X' between two posts; very much the traditional way, though occasionally one might be strapped over a barrel, They were followed by a few days of hard, menial labour, often pulling laundry wagons, or shovelling night soil into the trucks that would take it to the slave farms in the countryside. They wouldn't be displayed again until the marks had disappeared, though there were special ointments to accelerate the healing process.

Sebastian didn't much enjoy watching slaves flogged, but he knew in his heart of hearts that he'd have to harden his heart more as his own collection grew to include some who needed their boundaries marking clearly. He asked a few questions of the whip handlers, and was allowed to administer a few strokes himself, with a mistress coaching him like a golf professional refining a beginner's swing. Almya watched, more bemused than frightened, for she couldn't imagine that he'd ever practice on her. That, perhaps, was symptomatic of his problem; no slave, he realised, should ever think herself immune to the lash. He was breathing heavily when they left the enclosure, and it was time, then, to take her to keep her appointment at the clinic. They walked back to the entrance, found the right omnibus, and he held her close as they rode the three or four miles into open countryside. It was a single-decker this time, for only eight passengers, and they had it to themselves, except for the driver who sat out front in a seat mounted on the roof. The landscape was more undulating than in the city, and the journey longer. There was plenty to see; They passed vineyards where chained slaves were trimming away the surplus shoots, for it was early in the growing season. That was light, pleasant word, if monotonous. In the fertile valleys, teams of human oxen dragged ploughs across the heavy soils, and others toiled at pumps, irrigating water meadows where fowl and young cattle grazed. Near their journey's end they passed through an area of salt marshes near the sea, and slaves could be seen wading in long, rectangular pools, tending and gathering oysters, mussels and other shellfish to grace the tables of the planet's restaurants.

The clinic itself was on a bluff overlooking a bay, and as the omnibus climbed away from the shore they heard the whip cracking as the driver tried to maintain their speed. They finally clattered, rattled and rumbled into the courtyard, and disembarked while the ponies were watered and given handfuls of food pellets before starting back, for there was a full load of passengers waiting to return to the city. They were ushered inside, and through gleaming white corridors to the admissions desk labelled 'Rejuvenation Centre'. Almya seemed a little nervous now. He'd told her exactly what treatments he'd ordered for her, and she was thrilled that he'd decided to spend that part of his prize on her, but ten days of intensive procedures were a daunting prospect, and she found it difficult to imagine how she'd feel afterwards.