Raell strode into the pen. She glanced at the bowl and noted that it was in fact completely clean. She then looked at the older slave. He was kneeled, trembling, on his knees. The source of all her attention was coughing up the water he had swallowed the second she had burst in. She went and sat on the kneeling slave.
Drake watched Raell sit on Riley, unsure of what she wanted. He had cleaned the bowl like she wanted.
"Come here, pet." Raell ordered.
Drake obeyed, the throbbing stripes on his skin reminding him that it was a better idea to obey. Raell ran a hand through his hair, and he found he enjoyed the relaxing feeling. Too late he realized it was in fact a trap. A clamp-collar tightened around his neck.
"Thanks, Jess." Raell spoke, nodding at the girl who had collared Drake.
Drake didn't bother struggling, he'd learned by now that he couldn't break free of the clamp. He was walked out towards the posts. Panicking, he twisted to look at Raell.
"Mistress, what did I do wrong? Please, please don't post me again! Pleaseeee!" He plead and begged, trying to think of what he had done wrong. He understand punishing him when he had disobeyed or broken a rule, but punishing him for no reason just wasn't fair.
They dragged Drake past the posts and he let out a sigh of relief. He looked around, staring at the farmland that stretched off into the distance. At different intervals he could see the teams of slaves pulling the plows. The occasional CRACK of a whip was heard, as the women watching the teams had to encourage them to keep pulling. Drake involuntarily flinched with each snap, the stripes in his flesh burning in sympathy.
The group approached another barn, this one not nearly as big as the first but still similar. Drake watched as a group of slaves kneeled, stood, and sat in different positions at the command of a group of women, who snapped orders and snapped crops against flesh if a slave was not preforming the ordered position correctly.
Drake realized that this was the training barn. The slaves he had watched thrown into the pen after being branded and such were then brought here. He was put into pen much like the one he had been in mere minutes ago. The clamp was undone and the women left.
Drake got up from where he had been tossed. Looking around he noticed multiple pens full of men. Some were fully naked, others wore the now familiar black harnesses. Drake wondered when Raell would force him to wear one too. Why was he being treated so differently than the other slaves?
Looking out Drake noticed a woman pulling a slave towards his pen. He stared in shock as he realized that the slave had a ring that went around and through his bottom jaw, which is what she was pulling him by. Drake watched as the pair walked by, trying to imagine how painful it must have been for the slave when they put the ring in. How did he eat?
A loud snarl caught his attention and he watched as two women dragged in a beefy slave. Drake stared at the two rings that pierced his cheeks, and the reins linked to them. The slave was bucking to throw the woman on his back off. A strange saddle-like contraption was buckled on him, and the girl was perched on it. Her feet dangled down by his groin, and Drake realized that she was spurred and that when he jerked against the reins in her hand she would brutally kick him.
The two women dragging the slave in each held a coil of rope which were tied around the man's thick neck. They strained against the ropes, as the slave pulled back. Hearing the crunch of boots against the gravelly floor, Drake noticed Raell striding towards the man. The group noticed too. Raell grabbed both of the rope ties, and gestured at the woman.
"Let me take him, Lynn. Let's see how he does with me on his back."
The rider- Lynn, got off, and Raell snapped at the slave.
"Down."
The slave looked at the smaller woman standing before him, and snorted. Raell smiled, and snapping her fingers the slave bellowed and grabbed his groin, falling on his knees. Drake stared, fascinated, as he realized he was seeing the shock plate at work. Seeing how much pain the bull of a man was in from just the plate in his sac, Drake felt a flash of fear for the inevitable time Raell would snap her fingers and all the rigging in his body would shock him.
The pain seemed to cease as Raell swung up onto the saddle. She tugged on the reins, but the slave did not move. Raell "summoned" a crop to her hand, and Drake noted the spines on it. Maybe all the instruments she created out of thin air were scaled? Raell snapped the crop down hard on the slave's ass, and he yelped. She jerked the reins, putting steady pressure on them, and the slave slowly stood up, groaning at the constant pain. Turning him towards the fields, she clucked and kicked lightly.
The three woman stared as Raell rode the slave in random patterns, then brought him back in. She dismounted and handed the reins to them.
"Post him. Use the reins and don't take the tack off. Let's see how long it takes 459 here to realize that he's better off listening to the rider on his back."
The slave gave Raell a terrified look, but went meekly with the women. Raell turned and looked over at Drake's pen. Drake gazed back, puzzling over her use of the numbers instead of a name. He felt a flash of fear as he saw anger appear on her face. Raell strode towards his pen, and Drake backed up.
"Let's make something clear, slave. The next time I see you looking at me, and not looking down submissively like you should, I'll be trussing you up next to 459 over there. Am I clear?"
"Yes, Mistress." Drake looked down, really not wanting to spend a day tied to a pole.
Raell felt a thrill of joy as she noted his non-hesitant use of her title. He was starting to come around, starting to submit to the genes so carefully bred into him. Oh, if only he know just how special he was. How many decades of work she had spent on him. She mentally sighed. But he couldn't know, not yet at least.
Tomorrow he'd start the brutal physical training, and start learning all the commands and positions. No doubt he'd try to rebel again, and she'd have to punish him again. If only he'd just submit and learn to enjoy servitude. She sighed. Men. They simply did not understand that it was their job to tend to women, and not the other way around.
