Abroad

Toward the end of winter as the days began to grow longer, there were changes. Anne's feed rations were increased and her whippings suspended. She was no longer made available in the parlor, only by appointment to a few genteel clients.

Cheryl, one of the whores who did her on her first day, vanished. Anne supposed she had been sold to someone; a wealthy collector perhaps. She was a large robust girl able to take on several customers in the course of an evening.

The attitude of the others underwent a subtle alteration. They kept their distance from her and spoke guardedly in her presence. Even Rae seemed to act differently, though Anne could not pin it down.

One night as they lay together in their cell, after Rae was done with her "dates", Anne asked her about it.

Rae took a deep breath and explained. The planting of crops in the fields here was done in accordance with the ancient calendar. It was preceded each year by a gathering of all the tribes in the area; and a sacrifice and feast. Mr. Jones was preparing her for the altar, and the table.

Anne's blood ran cold. Of course, why had she not seen this? She thanked Rae for the information and opened her legs as the girl stroked her to calm her down. Soon she was moaning and her fate was set aside for the moment.

She enjoyed the extra food and within a month had filled out nicely. "Tender and succulent", as Rae put it. The welts on her skin healed and she was ready for sale.

One morning Mr. Jones came for her. He attached a leash to the ring between her legs and led her out to his truck. A thick rug lay on the floor of her cage to keep her from bruising on the trip. She crawled in and lay on her back.

Next to her was a second cage. Cheryl was already in it and greeted her, but did not speak. She seemed to be concentrating on something and did not wish to be disturbed.

The journey was a long one; midday he let the girls out to squat and to drink from a bottle he held to their lips. They went back to their cages while he ate lunch beneath a tree. When he was done he returned to the truck and they continued up into the wildest part of the jungle.

They reached their destination, a village in the hills, about mid-afternoon. A group of elders greeted Mr. Jones and thanked him for coming.

In the center of the square was a row of three stakes. One girl was already suspended by her bracelets. She was slender but good-looking, with a narrow waist that emphasized her breasts and buttocks. She seemed nervous, even afraid, glancing briefly at the newcomers and down again at the ground. Her name according to the elders was Edie; Mr. Jones named his.

Anne noticed that all three of them had dark hair; that seemed to be a requirement. Cheryl's hung in waves down her shoulders quite attractively. Mr. Jones had let it grow since Anne saw her last. Edie's was shorter, ending at the top of her neck above her metal collar.

They were quickly hung up on the two empty stakes. With all the candidates present, the judging and selection could begin.

Men and women from the village approached each in turn. They examined the girls' flesh for blemishes, pinched it for firmness, held mouths open and viewed the teeth.

Lastly they probed between the legs. This caught Anne by surprise and she gave a little yip, then - not knowing what was expected of her - kept her mouth firmly shut, though little sounds escaped her now and then.

Cheryl had no such inhibitions; she moaned and sighed with pleasure as they inspected her. Edie was silent and trembled at every touch.

The group conferred among itself. Then a tall man (their chief, Anne guessed) led them to Anne. He asked her in her language why she should be chosen.

Words failed her; she had not seen this coming. She hesitated and said it was what her master wished for her.

They nodded and went over to Edie, who answered in a monotone Anne could not hear.

Cheryl was last. In response to their question she said - quite clearly - that she hoped to do honor to their god as his concubine in heaven, and to serve the tribal feast with her body. That produced an approving buzz of conversation in the group, who withdrew to confer.

A few minutes later the chieftain returned with a half dozen men. Cheryl had been selected for next week's sacrifice at the rising of the full moon; the other two were not needed.

Cheryl was lowered from the stake and looking triumphant led toward her cell by the temple, where she would be prepared for the ceremony.

Anne feared she would be given to the jaguars; but Mr. Jones wanted her back at the brothel. There were other tribes who might be interested in her, and she was too good a whore to throw away.

She was glad to be reprieved, at least for a few more weeks; and happy that she still had value.

Edie's owner came forward. It was the Englishman Mr. Morris from the lady-market. He had no further use for her; they or the cats were welcome to her. Edie burst into tears.

A bearded young man wearing only a loincloth came forward. Jose was the miller; he needed a woman to turn the millstone and free up his donkey for other uses.

Mr. Morris handed her leash to him. He attached it to her collar and released her from the stake; she fell to the ground and began kissing his feet until he shook the leash and she stood up.

The unclad back of Jose's muscled body was visible to Anne as he led his girl away; Anne envied her.

By this time it was close to sundown; the tribal chief invited the men to stay overnight and return home in the morning. They went with him to a large wooden building where dinner had been prepared.

Soon after, a native girl appeared with a bowl of corn porridge and a spoon. She fed Anne and gave her water from a bottle, then let her down to squat and took her into a hut where she chained Anne by her leash to the floor.

Some time later - it was dark now but a small lantern illuminated the hut - Mr. Jones arrived. He used her before going over to a cot where he promptly fell asleep.

In the middle of the night Anne was wakened by a woman's cries. They rose in pitch for a few moments and then trailed off. Jose was branding his new possession.

Anne envied her a second time. She recalled inhaling the fragrance of her own burning flesh just months ago when Cesar applied the hot iron to her. How hard it was to endure at the time; but how glad she was now to bear his marks.

She savored the beauty of absolute surrender. It was what she lived for. Her stripes from the lash faded in time, but she would carry these to the end. Silently she thanked him.

She wondered if Mr. Jones would like to brand her; she was already marked on both buttocks, but her belly could hold his entire name if he wanted.

The tender skin of her breasts was his to use also. Above the nipples where it would be most visible to a casual viewer. Or below, in the fold against her chest where it could only be revealed by lifting them, or if she were hung up by her heels like a pig. How delicious that would be.

Mr. Jones slept soundly and heard nothing. He awoke refreshed the next morning and wished Anne a good day. A native girl brought his breakfast, and set down feed and water bowls for Anne.