I am whipped; I learn of my fate; I am raped
I do not know how much time passed since that night and our delivery to Gor, for I was asleep for the duration of the interplanetary trip. I awoke to the prodding of sandaled feet, in a dank and dark cell of stone. It wasn't very small, but was horrendous nonetheless, the walls and floor of rough, irregular rock, a gate of iron bars to my left, from where I lay, face down, on the floor.
As I opened my eyes, I was unsure if the last images which I had seen before my long sleep were nightmares, or reality. As I shifted, I heard a rattle of chain, and I saw I had been shackled, wrists and ankles, to two rings on the floor, one in front of me and another one behind me. My wrist chain passed through the ring, as did the ankle chain, thus preventing me from rising any higher than into a kneeling position.
I began to tug at my restraints, desperately, a cold sweat breaking on my back, my heart racing in my chest, as I realized it hadn't been a bad dream.
I had a collar around my neck, thick and heavy, as were my shackles. There was a man in the room, thin but muscular, wearing a sleeveless tunic, it going down to his knees. He wore high strung sandals, like those I had known from movies and history books. I couldn't see his face, it was so dark, but he held a lamp in his left hand, so he could look upon me.
"Please! Please!" was all I could manage to stutter, shocked as I was.
Without a word he swung his arm. I heard a whoosh, and then my back flared in pain, intense and localized, with the crack of leather. I cried out, struck again and again, pulling at my shackles. He lashed me over fifteen times, how many I do not exactly recall, for I lost count. The pain was sharp, and my back felt as if on fire as I twisted and grovelled at his feet. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I begged for mercy.
I received none,
After what felt like an eternity, he left, as silently as he had come, locking the gate behind him, for what reason I can only guess, for I was still miserably chained. I laid on my belly, crying, my back stinging. I had no idea where I was, or what would happen to me, and a myriad of horrific scenarios went through my mind.
After a few minutes, I remembered my mother had been abducted too. I looked up, still on the floor, but I could see nothing due to the heavy darkness which surrounded me. My mysterious torturer had taken the lamp with him. I wondered where my mother was, and if she was still alive. It seemed likely she would be in similar conditions as I, at least for the moment. I shuddered to think that she had probably endured a whipping like mine. I did not yet know, at least consciously, that I was a slave, and that such things were done to slaves. A voice in the back of my head whispered the possibility that I had become like thousands of humans throughout history, now the property of another, but I quickly dismissed the idea, terrified of it.
Slavery had been outlawed on Earth for almost two hundred years, officially if nothing else, and I had never given the concept much thought. I wondered if I would be prostituted, having no idea my services would have to much, much more than just sexual.
Exhausted, I fell asleep on the cold, damp floor. After what couldn't have been long, I woke to a metallic pan place in front of me. I looked around, frightened, but there was no one in sight. I lapped water from the pan, like a dog, shamed but grateful at both the water and the fact that there was no one to see me drink in such a way. The rest of that day went without further events, and again I feel asleep.
Again, I was woken by unkind prodding on my side. There was a figure there, similar to the one who had first whipped me, but I did not know if it was the same man. It wouldn't matter.
"Please don't hurt me anymore, I beg you! What do you want from me?"
Without responding to my pleas, he whipped me. Again, it was over fifteen lashes, possibly around twenty. I was puzzled and dismayed. Why would he punish me so? He hadn't even talked to me. Little did I know it was being made to acclimate me, to instill deep into my mind my place now, that I could be whipped at a whim, that I was now nothing to him, and to men, but a lowly Earth slave. In effect, they had begun to train me.
I would have two other whipping sections, nearly identical in their intensity. Every time, whoever held the whip would come and go without a word. I was not fed during those four days, but I was watered. Still, I was feeling weak by the fifth, as can be imagined. My stomach ached, grumbling seemingly by the minute. Thankfully, it only lasted four days, though I much feared for my survival during them. In retrospect, it was not reasonable to think they would starve me to death, for it had little purpose, but I was afraid and in shock at the time.
The fifth day, I was again visited, and whimpered in my chains, anticipating further lashings. I was cramped, terrified and hungry. This time the man stopped in front of me, not behind me, as had been happening. I rose to a kneeling position, arms stretched in front of me and sloping down, my ass resting on my heels. I sobbed as my eyes watered.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked pitifully, trembling "Where is my mother?"
