Abroad

The sun was bright as he led Anne back to her cage in the truck. She lay down for the trip to the brothel; maybe they would be back in time for her to serve a few customers.

He started the engine and proceeded down the rutted and bumpy road. Anne was thrown around as it surmounted rocks and dropped into holes.

Her hands were fastened together as usual, but in front this time. She lay on her back and put them between her legs to distract herself.

Her fingers touched something hard. The steel link that was attached to her flesh shortly before she was sold to Lobo.

She played with it for a moment before reaching inside herself. Ahh, that was good.

Just then the truck sank into a large hole, bringing her back to reality. She would show a bruise from that one. This happened again and again - they must be going over a rough stretch - and she turned onto one side, then the other, then her belly to spread the bruises around. But she kept her hands inside her, continuing to stimulate herself and forget her condition, until she was quite wet and even moaning a little.

Finally they reached a paved road and Anne rolled on her back again. The truck pulled into a driveway and she withdrew her hands, though she had no way to conceal the wetness. Well, she was past concealment anyway; they would think what they liked about her.

Mr. Jones opened the back of the van and pulled Anne out by her feet.

They arrived in good time for the evening shift; in fact seven men used her and she was led exhausted to her cell for the night.

To her delight, Rae was waiting for her there. She had not seen her lover on her return and worried that Rae had been sold; or worse, had given offense and been strangled.

But here she was, standing before her. Anne lay on her back at once in invitation even before the attendant removed her leash.

Rae covered her and soon they were lost in each other's embrace on the floor, all else forgotten.

The next morning Anne woke beneath Rae; they were both startled by a man's voice. Mr. Jones had opened the iron door and entered their cell unnoticed.

"Quite the couple you two make," he said. "Gives me an idea."

He began to advertise them as a pair, letting Rae spank her on the small stage in the parlor. Rae soon learned how to bring out a variety of responses from her lover.

Sometimes he let them copulate on a table before an audience; Anne found that especially exciting and looked forward to those occasions.

Mr. Jones offered her for use after, and she lay on the table to be possessed by men who waited in line for their turn.

At the end she was limp and gasping; Rae attached her leash to the ring between her legs and waited until she recovered and could be taken back to her cell.

And he brought in Hannah.

Hannah was the oldest free servant at the brothel, a wizened black woman employed there past anyone's memory. Skilled in use of the garrote, she had disciplined a hundred girls with it and terminated a dozen or more.

She hung Anne up by her wrists on the stage, then displayed the garrote to the audience and explained its use.

She held it up to Anne who kissed it. Standing behind her girl, she slipped the loop over Anne's head and pulled it snug against her throat. Rae narrated the performance, pointing out how Anne's breasts swelled and the nipples grew stiff and dark. And the growing shiny wetness between the legs.

Hannah tightened the garrote; the audience watched as she struggled to breathe and grew passionate with fear.

She recalled Rae's description of being garroted by the boy Kurt, a first time for both of them. This was the opposite; she was in the hands of a master who played her like an instrument. She began to shake.

Hannah relaxed the rope for a minute, letting her recover before repeating the exercise, a little harder this time. Anne felt a blackness coming over her; just in time the garrote slacked again and she was allowed to live.

Each application reduced her conscious mind. By the end of the performance she was stupid, spiritless and barely aware of her surroundings. Dimly she heard the audience's applause and hung awaiting her fate.

After the second performance Mr. Jones decided Rae should learn. He accompanied Hannah after work to their cell. Her lover bound Anne to a metal chair with her arms behind its back so she would not fall over and they began a series of lessons.

Hannah took the garrote from a shelf and passed it to Rae. Anne watched as Rae walked behind the chair and kissed her hair before slipping it over her head.

Anne grew nervous and excited. Her womb was filled with the seed of men who had "dated" her that evening. She felt it throb as the rough fibers of a sisal rope tightened on the skin of her neck.

A silken cord was more efficient, but Mr. Jones wanted to see abrasions on his white girl. It was good for business, and he liked it.

Under Hannah's guidance Rae turned the wooden peg that tightened the loop. Again Anne felt herself becoming wet; she was going to leave the chair sticky.

Little by little the rope closed on her; she managed a last breath. She looked up to see Hannah and Mr. Jones observing her.

Her mouth fell open and her tongue began to hang out as she struggled.

Her head wagged from side to side; Rae put her free hand on it and held it still. Her breasts enlarged; her womb released its contents.

"Relax a quarter turn," said Hannah. Anne took in great gulps of air for a minute until her lover repeated the exercise.

Hannah declared herself satisfied; Rae had a natural aptitude for this. She removed the garrote and put it back on the shelf while Anne recovered, still bound to the chair. Mr. Jones said she had some fine red marks on her neck; they should last for days.

With the lesson over, Mr. Jones invited Hannah to describe the ceremony of Anne's friend, the whore Cheryl. A smile creased her old brown face and her eyes took on a faraway aspect as she recalled the event. It was beautiful in its way, she said.

Cheryl became nervous when she was led out of the temple and saw the crowd. The priest had to tug on her leash and the butcher who accompanied him brushed her rear with his whip, but she recovered herself and proceeded to the altar.

Half a dozen men who had used her the evening before hoisted her onto it and the women of the village pinned her arms and legs down.

She kissed the knife as it was held to her lips, and the sacrifice proceeded.

The feast afterwards was a merry one. The joints were cut up and roasted in a bed of hot coals, and they even offered Dora a plate.

After a moment she added, "It was from the thigh, very tender."

He and Hannah left the cell and the two girls were alone. Rae untied Anne from the chair.

Anne knelt and kissed her feet, then crawled over to the shelf, took the garrote in her teeth and brought it back to Rae like a dog with its leash begging to go out. Rae laughed and placed it loosely on her neck.

The abrasions stung a little, but it was so good to have it back on again, a reminder of their shared intimacy when Rae held Anne's life in her hands.

Rae helped her stand and released her bracelets. She wet a cloth and gave it to Anne, who cleaned the chair seat. Then another for Anne to clean herself.

Later, lying bound in the darkness beside her lover she reflected on this new experience; their first garroting. It was beautiful, a communion between them like no other.

Even the times when Francesca - she could say the name now without a pang - took Anne into her bed paled in comparison.

Did Rae's hands tremble a little? Maybe. She could not tell, she was too absorbed in herself, shame on her.

She went over the stages of the lesson. Rae taking the garrote from Hannah; walking behind Anne; kissing her hair, that was sweet; slipping the rope over -

A sound outside in the hall startled her. Someone was at the door of the cell.

She became alarmed; fantasies filled her head. They were coming for her, they would take her away, they would strangle her in the dark. She began to cry.

This woke Rae, who pulled Anne to her by the steel ring. She enfolded Anne and held her tight.

Like a child, Anne was comforted and slept till dawn.

She woke ahead of her lover whose arms soft and warm were still around her, arms that protected her from the terrors of the night.

She wondered what Rae thought of her. Rae never said; but neither did Anne, afraid to declare her love openly. She would strangle Anne if ordered to, of course; but perhaps with reluctance.

Would she proceed slowly to allow Anne a few more moments of life, or quickly to get it over with and minimize the suffering? She could not tell.

That afternoon she was washed and presented in Mr. Jones' office to a collector who might want to buy her. His wife liked the red ring around her neck and fondled her, but nothing came of it.

In the evening, Rae practiced garrote work in their cell with Anne hung up by her bracelets from the ceiling. Mr. Jones and Hannah watched and approved; they invited Rae to show her skill the next day on the parlor stage.

After the performance they took Anne back to her cell and Hannah showed Rae a new trick.

She left and returned a minute later with a bowl of warm milk sweetened with honey, setting it on the stone floor and offering it to Anne who lapped at it. Hannah stroked her buttocks, the comforting liquid began to fill her belly and she settled into perfect contentment as the two women watched.

She was just finishing the last drop when Hannah pulled her head up by the hair and drew the back edge of a hunting knife across her throat.

Dora explained while Anne tried to recover from her shock. A girl to be served at a feast was not always sacrificed on the altar; sometimes several were needed for a large gathering.

It was important that their last moments be happy ones. The gods commanded it; and fear gave the meat an off flavor.

To avoid it the unsuspecting girl was given a soothing meal, treated gently and allowed to relax; then at the right moment dispatched and sent off to the butcher and the roaster.

She invited Rae to practice the motions; Anne's lover took the knife and stood behind her.

The first time was a little rough; Rae pulled Anne's head back too far and it slipped from her grasp. The second went better; she got that right but did not know where to draw the knife.

Hannah took her place and demonstrated in slow motion. Grasp a handful of hair firmly; pull quickly but smoothly till the head was upright but no more; then draw the knife from ear to ear like so.

Anne found a strange thrill in these rehearsals. Even more when Hannah pointed out the arteries that must be severed and Rae felt each of them with her long sensitive fingers, a final caress from her lovely executioner.

After a few more tries Rae could perform the entire maneuver in seconds. Hannah congratulated her, she was a natural at this. She would tell Mr. Jones; perhaps he would let Rae handle his next "job".

She left, and Rae practiced a few more times on Anne with a fingernail instead of the knife, but that was just as good. At the end Anne lay on her back to be used and Rae obliged her. It was wonderful.