Log in
12 - Wallow
Content Warning: Slavery, Non-con, FemSub, Humiliation, Degradation, Forced Exhibition, Training, Forced Urination/Wetting, Identity Erosion, Sci-fi
“Over here, slave girl.” A guard waved me toward him.
I slowed my walk. Mistress had given me a task to fetch a vase of wine from the house. Now I knew why she’d picked me. It was an ambush, probably disguised as some sort of lesson.
“Did you hear him?” his partner called out. They immediately stopped leaning against the outer wall, stood up, and puffed out their chests. No matter what, I knew that I had to listen to orders from men, but how far did that go?
I turned to them, slowing my pace and bowing my head. I was suddenly very aware of how naked I was. They were in thick leather armor, armed with clubs and shackles on their belts, while I didn’t even have shoes.
Technically, I belonged to Jaxon. He’d loaned me to the kennels for training… But Matron’s casual touch on my first night told me exactly what I needed to know. I might belong to another master, but if the kennels wanted to train me through violation and use, there was little I could do to say no.
As I neared the house, I saw the two guards had been talking to another man on the other side of the walk. The man, on the other hand, had his arms lying along the top while he rested his head on them. Now I understand why the wall was only shoulder height. Anyone passing by could see the slaves being put through their paces and trained to be perfectly obedient. We were products on display. I thought about the entire morning, dashing around naked, doing chores, being humiliated, and now it took on a whole new level of shame. I was modified knowing that the entire town could be watching me running around naked, and I had no say in my own modesty.
Against my will, my thighs clenched at the thought of an audience watching me at all times. It wasn’t arousal, Mistress had sent me to get wine before I could use the bathroom with the other trainees.
When I approached, I bent to kneel, and the first guard interrupted me with a single command, “Inspect.”
Glancing up, I saw the man on the other side watching closely, the sly smile as I thrust my chest out and laced my fingers behind my neck said it all. I was simply entertainment.
The first guard circled me. When he moved behind me, my stomach lurched with the knowledge that he could touch me, or take me, any time he wanted. It wouldn’t be a gentle touch either. He’d grab me like an object or piece of meat, toss me down, and ravish me however he wished. The thought of it made me ill, and that's exactly what I’d tell the Fed Psychoanalysts when we were rescued. But I could feel a fluttering heat stewing between my thighs. My mouth felt dry, and I had to swallow hard to moisten my tongue.
“What's your name bitch?” The second guard asked, leaning back so that he and the man outside could casually enjoy my nervous tension.
When I didn’t answer fast enough, the guard behind me hit my ass with an open palm. It was one thing to have Mistress use her crop to place a wicked stinging blow, but entirely something else when a man more than twice her weight smacked me without holding anything back.
I staggered forward with a sharp cry.
The guard in front shot up from the wall right into my face, yelling, “Inspect bitch! Who told you to move?”
“I’m sorry, sir…” I tried to tell him it wasn’t my fault, that a man’s blow was not like a training blow.
He didn’t care at all, instead leaning into me and screaming in my face, “Shut that cocksucker! No one asked. And a good cunt speaks only when asked a question.”
I froze. I’d been yelled at before like this in training. Frantic yelling like this triggers spikes in adrenaline and cortisol, fight-or-flight hormones that shut down higher brain functions. If a person was locked down and unable to do anything, it heightened anxiety and weakened emotional control. These weren’t just guards, they were part of the training, part of the breaking.
The guard behind me cupped and squeezed my ass, his fingers digging in like he was checking the quality of something he might buy. I remained frozen while the other two watched. My body kept trying to pull away, but I forced myself to stay still. That was all I was right now. Something to be handled.
I winced. Mistress had sent me to the house before I could relieve myself. Three hours of mantras, and my bladder was screaming.
Not content just grabbing my ass, the guard mauling me reached around with his other arm and painfully squeezed one breast.
He took the sound as something else entirely. “That’s it, slut. Tell us how much you love it.” I hated that I’d made a sound at all.
I forced the words out anyway, hating how they tasted. “Thank you, sir.”
“How’s she feel?” the man on the other side of the wall asked.
I slowed my walk. Mistress had given me a task to fetch a vase of wine from the house. Now I knew why she’d picked me. It was an ambush, probably disguised as some sort of lesson.
“Did you hear him?” his partner called out. They immediately stopped leaning against the outer wall, stood up, and puffed out their chests. No matter what, I knew that I had to listen to orders from men, but how far did that go?
I turned to them, slowing my pace and bowing my head. I was suddenly very aware of how naked I was. They were in thick leather armor, armed with clubs and shackles on their belts, while I didn’t even have shoes.
Technically, I belonged to Jaxon. He’d loaned me to the kennels for training… But Matron’s casual touch on my first night told me exactly what I needed to know. I might belong to another master, but if the kennels wanted to train me through violation and use, there was little I could do to say no.
As I neared the house, I saw the two guards had been talking to another man on the other side of the walk. The man, on the other hand, had his arms lying along the top while he rested his head on them. Now I understand why the wall was only shoulder height. Anyone passing by could see the slaves being put through their paces and trained to be perfectly obedient. We were products on display. I thought about the entire morning, dashing around naked, doing chores, being humiliated, and now it took on a whole new level of shame. I was modified knowing that the entire town could be watching me running around naked, and I had no say in my own modesty.
Against my will, my thighs clenched at the thought of an audience watching me at all times. It wasn’t arousal, Mistress had sent me to get wine before I could use the bathroom with the other trainees.
When I approached, I bent to kneel, and the first guard interrupted me with a single command, “Inspect.”
Glancing up, I saw the man on the other side watching closely, the sly smile as I thrust my chest out and laced my fingers behind my neck said it all. I was simply entertainment.
The first guard circled me. When he moved behind me, my stomach lurched with the knowledge that he could touch me, or take me, any time he wanted. It wouldn’t be a gentle touch either. He’d grab me like an object or piece of meat, toss me down, and ravish me however he wished. The thought of it made me ill, and that's exactly what I’d tell the Fed Psychoanalysts when we were rescued. But I could feel a fluttering heat stewing between my thighs. My mouth felt dry, and I had to swallow hard to moisten my tongue.
“What's your name bitch?” The second guard asked, leaning back so that he and the man outside could casually enjoy my nervous tension.
When I didn’t answer fast enough, the guard behind me hit my ass with an open palm. It was one thing to have Mistress use her crop to place a wicked stinging blow, but entirely something else when a man more than twice her weight smacked me without holding anything back.
I staggered forward with a sharp cry.
The guard in front shot up from the wall right into my face, yelling, “Inspect bitch! Who told you to move?”
“I’m sorry, sir…” I tried to tell him it wasn’t my fault, that a man’s blow was not like a training blow.
He didn’t care at all, instead leaning into me and screaming in my face, “Shut that cocksucker! No one asked. And a good cunt speaks only when asked a question.”
I froze. I’d been yelled at before like this in training. Frantic yelling like this triggers spikes in adrenaline and cortisol, fight-or-flight hormones that shut down higher brain functions. If a person was locked down and unable to do anything, it heightened anxiety and weakened emotional control. These weren’t just guards, they were part of the training, part of the breaking.
The guard behind me cupped and squeezed my ass, his fingers digging in like he was checking the quality of something he might buy. I remained frozen while the other two watched. My body kept trying to pull away, but I forced myself to stay still. That was all I was right now. Something to be handled.
I winced. Mistress had sent me to the house before I could relieve myself. Three hours of mantras, and my bladder was screaming.
Not content just grabbing my ass, the guard mauling me reached around with his other arm and painfully squeezed one breast.
He took the sound as something else entirely. “That’s it, slut. Tell us how much you love it.” I hated that I’d made a sound at all.
I forced the words out anyway, hating how they tasted. “Thank you, sir.”
“How’s she feel?” the man on the other side of the wall asked.
The guard let go of my ass and reached around to slap me between my thighs. I cried out but couldn’t curl into a fetal position. He gripped my flesh, crushing my back against him, holding me and showing me off at once.
As his fingers dug in, gripping me tight, he laughed over my shoulder, telling the man, “Uptight. Like she’s fighting. Not quite rips. I don’t think she’s liking this.”
He crushed my labia in his hand, painfully so, ripping a low moan out of me as I tried to understand how men could be so disgusting and cruel.
“The cunt loves it. Don’t you?” the guard in front of me asked.
There was no way I was going to say I loved it. No fucking way. I ground my teeth and forced the words out, “Thank you, sir.”
The man on the other side looked dubious, “I’m not impressed. She doesn’t sound appreciative at all.”
The guard on the wall explained, “Come back in a few weeks. She’ll be much more appreciative then
“I can make her appreciate right now,” the guard gripping me said. “Keep those legs open, little slut.”
His hold relaxed only long enough for him to begin shoving several fingers into me. When I tried to double over, he crushed my nipple in his other hand, making lancing pain shoot through my chest. I gasped and cried out as the three of them laughed.
“Please, sir…” I begged. My body struggled, not just under his savage treatment, but because it had been hours since I’d been able to take a bathroom break.
“Please what?” the one on the wall said, “Please give you some more?”
These monsters were going to make me beg to go to the bathroom. Like I was some child that needed permission. And if I didn’t? There was no way they could possibly be that cruel. No way.
He squeezed my breast hard enough to use it as a fulcrum for leverage and shoved his fingers deeper. My legs were shaking so wildly that I could barely stay upright. The pressure inside me was unbearable. I’d been holding it for hours, and now his fingers were pushing right against it. I couldn’t stop the panic choking in my throat.
“I need to go to…” but I didn't finish the sentence.
Deep inside something gave way. Hot liquid gushed out around his fingers and down my legs before I could stop it. The relief was instant and disgusting. I couldn’t look at any of them. I just closed my eyes and felt it happening, burning hot down my thighs while they laughed.
I had to close my eyes after seeing the stranger's shocked face, and the leaning guard looking at me with utter contempt. I’d just wet myself, down my own naked body, in front of an audience of laughing men. The shame was so heavy it was unworldly, like it was happening to someone else. But it was me.
“What?” The guard holding me withdrew quickly and shoved me down to the ground. He shouted as the other laughed, “You filthy fucking animal!”
I wasn’t, though. Not really. This wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my doing. If they’d only listened to me… The gross unfairness of it burned brightly in my gut. I wanted to strangle each of them with my own hands. But even the stranger outweighed me by a factor of two. I was literally helpless to do anything but feel the burning fluids escaping and puddling beneath my thighs.
I tried to push myself up, but his boot came down on my ass and shoved me back into it. The wet dirt squelched against my skin. I stopped trying after that. He stepped on me, forcing me into the mess I was creating. I tried to contract, to pinch everything shut, but the pain was too much, and my body refused to obey me.
“Spread your legs!” he roared at me. “Go on, you disgusting hole, show everyone what you are!”
My hands shook as I felt tears and a sharp pain in the back of my throat. It would be so easy to give in and just let the tears flow. Why not? I was already in other places. But I wasn’t going to let them see me like that. They were laughing now, but I’d be damned if I’d show them me breaking because of this.
The stranger on the other side of the wall had a look of pure revulsion and disgust on his face, but he continued laughing. The Guarding leaning near him shook his head, also laughing, as if there were some slapstick comedy. I was having a hard time processing it all, unable to fully fathom that this was happening to me.
And that was ultimately the point. Humiliation on humiliation, low protein, fucked sleep cycles, they knew we would all break. Somehow, Mistress could tell I was holding out longer than the other women. She’d set this up.
In basic training, they’d stressed us in order to build something. They still saw us recruits as people. Here, I was just a thing to be broken and filthy. I’d happily do as I was told just to prevent this shame and filth from ever happening again. I demanded my tears to stay inside.
The boot on my ass crushed me into the filth as the guard leaned down. “You nasty little bitch. You think it's funny pissing on my hand when I’m giving you a little reward?”
I couldn’t answer. He yanked my head back with one hand, then smeared the other across my face. He shoved my face down and ground it into the dirt and gave me a few angry shakes. My face was pressed into the wet dirt and all I could think was that this was really happening. That I was lying in my own piss while a man stepped on me like I was nothing.
The other two howled in laughter. “Showed you her appreciation, she did!”
The guard looming over me stepped off and away, “Roll over!”
What? No. He couldn’t be serious.
“Roll over, you nasty little animal,” he demanded again, the anger in his voice was unmistakable.
I tried lifting myself to all fours. His boot shoved me down again. “I said roll over or so help me I’ll whip that fucking ass raw and bloody.”
I forced myself to roll, feeling the muddy dirt squishing around me as I did so. I could feel cooling clumps sticking to the front of my thighs as I pushed myself over. His boot, muddy and disgusting, pressed to my chest. He was pressing me into it, making me wallow in the muck.
“Look at me bitch.”
I forced my eyes open. The hatred I felt for him was so monumental it blacked out the sun.
The other guard laughed, “She’s marked you as hers, like a bitch in heat.” The two at the wall laughed at his cleverness. I just blinked, the camel’s back was already shattered.
“This is all you are,” he hissed down at me. “A filthy little plaything wallowing in her own filth. No matter how much training they give you, how polished you become, you will never be anything more than this. A dirty hole for a few copper pieces. Aren’t you?”
I looked at him but said nothing. My lips quivered, and I could feel tears clouding my vision.
“Well? Aren’t you? Say it… I’m a dirty little animal bitch.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Say it!”
“I’m filthy… animal… b-bitch…”
Mistress’ voice sang out, “What’s happening here?”
I hated the sound of her voice. Her lies. She knew exactly what was happening. She’d engineered the whole thing.
“Kneel!” the guard over me barked.
He put his boot on my ass again, and I knew instantly the command wasn’t for me. I glanced over to see Mistress fall immediately to her knees, head bowed, and hands palms up on her thighs.
Despite myself, I was shocked. She was a woman. And of course, on this world, in this culture, she too was at the command of any man. Even a lowly guard. I had assumed the trainers had some special privilege, but there she was kneeling as the guard who shoved me down stormed over to her.
“Your fucking cunt pissed all over me!” he yelled at her. “What kind of training are you even doing, you stupid cow? Do we need to come over there and show you vapid holes how to handle a slave properly?”
There was no hesitation as Mistress apologized, “My apologies, sir. She’s been in trouble from the start…”
“Trouble? She’s an animal. Get your shit straight before you get sold off for utter incompetence.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“I don’t care about sorry,” he growled at her. “I want her ass whipped raw.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it personally, sir.”
The guard that had been watching the whole time grabbed the other by the arm, “Korrax, calm yourself.”
“Calm? She pissed on me.” Korrax, my abuser yelled. “This worthless trainer is lucky I don’t whip her ass raw for failing her duties so spectacularly.”
Glancing back to the fountain, I could see the other trainees looking over to us, certain they’d heard every word of the yelling. Matron was in her usual spot, urging the women into their kneeling positions.
When I looked back at Mistress, she was staring daggers at me from hooded eyes. Korrax was being dragged off by the other guard, who continued urging him to calm himself.
Trainer arrived behind Mistress, placing a gentle touch on her shoulder, “Gressa, are you alright?”
Mistress leaped up to her feet and stalked toward me. I was still sitting, lying on my back in sodden dirt, all I could see was the crop swishing like a tiger's tail as she stomped at me.
She didn’t disappoint. Mistress grabbed me by the ahit and yanked me up, first to sitting, then with very liberal use of her crop up to standing. I tried to swallow the yelps, but it was impossible. Mistress began striking harder and faster as I shrank back, perhaps annoyed I wasn’t wailing pitifully like most slaves in this position. I was tempted to grab her crop, but had no idea what happened to truly unruly slaves, so I just took her beating, dancing in pain as she struck me.
Trainer grabbed Mistress Gressa’s arm mid swing, “Enough…” They stared daggers for a moment, then she added, “We are waiting for confessions…”
Even though naturally pretty, Mistress’s face was pinched with rage. She spat at me, “I’ll fetch the wine. Get this useless hole back.” She stormed away, swishing the crop as she went.
Turning to me, Trainer pointed back to the fountain, “Get to your place.”
She then departed, following Mistress to the house.
I stood a moment, taking stock. My body was filthy with smears of mud along my legs and backside. I didn’t want ot think about what I was covered in, the shame of it was worse than anything I’d experienced so far. I’d been an intelligence officer in the Navy. I was a law enforcement officer. Now I was naked and covered in filth. Just like the guard said, I was just an animal.
The walk back was slow as I fought to get the turmoil of swirling emotions under control. A crushing shame at the forefront, but a smoldering rage was burning in me. I wanted… wanted to… kill the trainers. I wanted to burn the planet to a cinder. That there was a place in the universe where this could happen made me shake with impotent fury. I spent most of the walk trying to smear the mud off me and fight back the stabbing pain at the back of my throat. Every time I swallowed, I could feel tears threaten to spill free.
“Vessi,” Matron called as I approached the group. “What happened?”
Lira was practically beaming up at me from her kneeling position, she looked all too pleased to see me humiliated in a way totally unique from the others. Sylra, my first-night faux lover, glanced up, then looked away quickly. She must be ashamed to have had me in her clique the night before. Her girl Mira openly smiled, happy to see her rival utterly destroyed. The other girls, with the exception of the two shy ones, all snickered in myrth.
I stood there with all the women watching, determined not to show any of them a single tear, even though I could feel my eyes blurring, straining to keep it back.
“Well, girl? Don’t make Mother ask again.”
“I failed to… get the wine,” I said softly.
“Oh no, sweet girl,” she said with her fake warmth. “You failed men. Only when you learn to please them can you avoid situations like this.”
I stared at her incredulously. No. I was set up to fail. This was not my fault. The injustice of it was so choking that it was actually hard to draw breath.
“Turn for me, Vessi, let's see how bad it is.” She clucked as I circled clumsily, turning to show her everything. Not just her, I understood this was so that every trainee saw. The message is clear, you could be next. Matron gasped, “Oh, you are just covered in filth, girl. You’ll just be a distraction sitting with us like that… Ryx, Nissa, take naughty little Vessi here over to the trough and help clean her.”
I watched her, seeing straight through the performance. She knew exactly what she was doing by sending Ryx and Nyssa.She knew the group dynamics. It was deliberate. Another small cut. Another reminder of where I stood now. I was lower than the lowest Betas.
It came to me slowly. Mistress hadn’t set this up. Matron had. She’d known exactly what would happen when she sent me for that wine. She’d chosen the timing on purpose. I was the example. The one who was still holding out. I was the example to the rest. If I wanted to get through these next weeks, I would need to make Matron believe I was becoming what she wanted. A compliant, willing, docile toy for men.
The two approached me as timidly. Neither said a word. Ryx took my hand and gently tugged. I followed without a word. Nyssa followed behind us. Every step made the drying mud crack and pull at my skin.
Once in front of the stone trough, Ryx took a white cloth from the table in her olive hands. She dipped it then brushed at my thighs, sending icy shivers through me. Nyssa cupped water in her hands and splashed it across my legs. We did this without any words. I watched in a stupor, doing nothing to help. My mind was just a blank. The only sounds were the splashing of water and the low murmur of the women behind us. Even facing the trough, I could feel all their eyes on me. Lira, especially, I didn't need to see her face to know she was enjoying this.
As the water flowed down my legs, it reminded me of the humiliating incident just minutes ago. Ryx wiped quickly, softly, just enough to take the filth away and leave me clean. Another girl might have scrubbed. I felt the overwhelming warmth of gratitude that she was being so caring, so gentle. I wanted to hug her, but kept myself from doing so. I didn’t want to mark her for cruelty or bullying from the others.
Nyssa continued cupping the water, but she now poured it down my body. Letting it wash down my chest, taking all the grime away. When Ryx reached between my legs, I flinched. She stopped for a second, then continued, her face blank. Her eyes glanced at mine, then away as if offering a quiet apology. Nyssa poured more water over me, its icy touch numbing my breasts and belly.
I stood there and let them wash me. I didn’t help. I just let the cold water run over my skin while they wiped away what the guards had done to me. It felt like they were cleaning an animal. When they’d finished, they both toweled me dry quickly. Other than the mud under my feet, I was clean. Ryx touched my shoulder and gave me a gentle push to turn around. I nodded thanks to her, and she looked away.
Matron sat with her hand folded in her lap. She’d been watching everything, along with all the others. She looked serene. Almost kind. When our eyes met, I could see the calculations behind the warmth. She'd put Mistress up to picking me. Knew what the guards would do. Purposefully targeted the time to be hours after lunch with no relief. She knew I was holding out. That I still thought of myself as something other than a slave. Different from the rest of them.
I understood.
I wasn’t going to win by resisting. That made their torture more cruel, more creative. The only way through this was to give them what they wanted. I would have to play the eager, broken little thing they expected. I would smile when touched. I would thank them when I was used. I would make her believe she won. And the worst part was that some small, tired piece of me was already starting to accept it. That if I just gave them what they wanted, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much next time.
The next time she wanted to make a lesson of someone, I wanted her to think I was too far gone to need one.
When we returned to the semi-circle of women formed around Matron, she smiled, “There we go. All clean now.”
Clean enough to lie.
I met her eyes and gave her the smallest, most obedient smile I could manage.
She smiled back.
He squeezed my breast hard enough to use it as a fulcrum for leverage and shoved his fingers deeper. My legs were shaking so wildly that I could barely stay upright. The pressure inside me was unbearable. I’d been holding it for hours, and now his fingers were pushing right against it. I couldn’t stop the panic choking in my throat.
“I need to go to…” but I didn't finish the sentence.
Deep inside something gave way. Hot liquid gushed out around his fingers and down my legs before I could stop it. The relief was instant and disgusting. I couldn’t look at any of them. I just closed my eyes and felt it happening, burning hot down my thighs while they laughed.
I had to close my eyes after seeing the stranger's shocked face, and the leaning guard looking at me with utter contempt. I’d just wet myself, down my own naked body, in front of an audience of laughing men. The shame was so heavy it was unworldly, like it was happening to someone else. But it was me.
“What?” The guard holding me withdrew quickly and shoved me down to the ground. He shouted as the other laughed, “You filthy fucking animal!”
I wasn’t, though. Not really. This wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t my doing. If they’d only listened to me… The gross unfairness of it burned brightly in my gut. I wanted to strangle each of them with my own hands. But even the stranger outweighed me by a factor of two. I was literally helpless to do anything but feel the burning fluids escaping and puddling beneath my thighs.
I tried to push myself up, but his boot came down on my ass and shoved me back into it. The wet dirt squelched against my skin. I stopped trying after that. He stepped on me, forcing me into the mess I was creating. I tried to contract, to pinch everything shut, but the pain was too much, and my body refused to obey me.
“Spread your legs!” he roared at me. “Go on, you disgusting hole, show everyone what you are!”
My hands shook as I felt tears and a sharp pain in the back of my throat. It would be so easy to give in and just let the tears flow. Why not? I was already in other places. But I wasn’t going to let them see me like that. They were laughing now, but I’d be damned if I’d show them me breaking because of this.
The stranger on the other side of the wall had a look of pure revulsion and disgust on his face, but he continued laughing. The Guarding leaning near him shook his head, also laughing, as if there were some slapstick comedy. I was having a hard time processing it all, unable to fully fathom that this was happening to me.
And that was ultimately the point. Humiliation on humiliation, low protein, fucked sleep cycles, they knew we would all break. Somehow, Mistress could tell I was holding out longer than the other women. She’d set this up.
In basic training, they’d stressed us in order to build something. They still saw us recruits as people. Here, I was just a thing to be broken and filthy. I’d happily do as I was told just to prevent this shame and filth from ever happening again. I demanded my tears to stay inside.
The boot on my ass crushed me into the filth as the guard leaned down. “You nasty little bitch. You think it's funny pissing on my hand when I’m giving you a little reward?”
I couldn’t answer. He yanked my head back with one hand, then smeared the other across my face. He shoved my face down and ground it into the dirt and gave me a few angry shakes. My face was pressed into the wet dirt and all I could think was that this was really happening. That I was lying in my own piss while a man stepped on me like I was nothing.
The other two howled in laughter. “Showed you her appreciation, she did!”
The guard looming over me stepped off and away, “Roll over!”
What? No. He couldn’t be serious.
“Roll over, you nasty little animal,” he demanded again, the anger in his voice was unmistakable.
I tried lifting myself to all fours. His boot shoved me down again. “I said roll over or so help me I’ll whip that fucking ass raw and bloody.”
I forced myself to roll, feeling the muddy dirt squishing around me as I did so. I could feel cooling clumps sticking to the front of my thighs as I pushed myself over. His boot, muddy and disgusting, pressed to my chest. He was pressing me into it, making me wallow in the muck.
“Look at me bitch.”
I forced my eyes open. The hatred I felt for him was so monumental it blacked out the sun.
The other guard laughed, “She’s marked you as hers, like a bitch in heat.” The two at the wall laughed at his cleverness. I just blinked, the camel’s back was already shattered.
“This is all you are,” he hissed down at me. “A filthy little plaything wallowing in her own filth. No matter how much training they give you, how polished you become, you will never be anything more than this. A dirty hole for a few copper pieces. Aren’t you?”
I looked at him but said nothing. My lips quivered, and I could feel tears clouding my vision.
“Well? Aren’t you? Say it… I’m a dirty little animal bitch.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Say it!”
“I’m filthy… animal… b-bitch…”
Mistress’ voice sang out, “What’s happening here?”
I hated the sound of her voice. Her lies. She knew exactly what was happening. She’d engineered the whole thing.
“Kneel!” the guard over me barked.
He put his boot on my ass again, and I knew instantly the command wasn’t for me. I glanced over to see Mistress fall immediately to her knees, head bowed, and hands palms up on her thighs.
Despite myself, I was shocked. She was a woman. And of course, on this world, in this culture, she too was at the command of any man. Even a lowly guard. I had assumed the trainers had some special privilege, but there she was kneeling as the guard who shoved me down stormed over to her.
“Your fucking cunt pissed all over me!” he yelled at her. “What kind of training are you even doing, you stupid cow? Do we need to come over there and show you vapid holes how to handle a slave properly?”
There was no hesitation as Mistress apologized, “My apologies, sir. She’s been in trouble from the start…”
“Trouble? She’s an animal. Get your shit straight before you get sold off for utter incompetence.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“I don’t care about sorry,” he growled at her. “I want her ass whipped raw.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it personally, sir.”
The guard that had been watching the whole time grabbed the other by the arm, “Korrax, calm yourself.”
“Calm? She pissed on me.” Korrax, my abuser yelled. “This worthless trainer is lucky I don’t whip her ass raw for failing her duties so spectacularly.”
Glancing back to the fountain, I could see the other trainees looking over to us, certain they’d heard every word of the yelling. Matron was in her usual spot, urging the women into their kneeling positions.
When I looked back at Mistress, she was staring daggers at me from hooded eyes. Korrax was being dragged off by the other guard, who continued urging him to calm himself.
Trainer arrived behind Mistress, placing a gentle touch on her shoulder, “Gressa, are you alright?”
Mistress leaped up to her feet and stalked toward me. I was still sitting, lying on my back in sodden dirt, all I could see was the crop swishing like a tiger's tail as she stomped at me.
She didn’t disappoint. Mistress grabbed me by the ahit and yanked me up, first to sitting, then with very liberal use of her crop up to standing. I tried to swallow the yelps, but it was impossible. Mistress began striking harder and faster as I shrank back, perhaps annoyed I wasn’t wailing pitifully like most slaves in this position. I was tempted to grab her crop, but had no idea what happened to truly unruly slaves, so I just took her beating, dancing in pain as she struck me.
Trainer grabbed Mistress Gressa’s arm mid swing, “Enough…” They stared daggers for a moment, then she added, “We are waiting for confessions…”
Even though naturally pretty, Mistress’s face was pinched with rage. She spat at me, “I’ll fetch the wine. Get this useless hole back.” She stormed away, swishing the crop as she went.
Turning to me, Trainer pointed back to the fountain, “Get to your place.”
She then departed, following Mistress to the house.
I stood a moment, taking stock. My body was filthy with smears of mud along my legs and backside. I didn’t want ot think about what I was covered in, the shame of it was worse than anything I’d experienced so far. I’d been an intelligence officer in the Navy. I was a law enforcement officer. Now I was naked and covered in filth. Just like the guard said, I was just an animal.
The walk back was slow as I fought to get the turmoil of swirling emotions under control. A crushing shame at the forefront, but a smoldering rage was burning in me. I wanted… wanted to… kill the trainers. I wanted to burn the planet to a cinder. That there was a place in the universe where this could happen made me shake with impotent fury. I spent most of the walk trying to smear the mud off me and fight back the stabbing pain at the back of my throat. Every time I swallowed, I could feel tears threaten to spill free.
“Vessi,” Matron called as I approached the group. “What happened?”
Lira was practically beaming up at me from her kneeling position, she looked all too pleased to see me humiliated in a way totally unique from the others. Sylra, my first-night faux lover, glanced up, then looked away quickly. She must be ashamed to have had me in her clique the night before. Her girl Mira openly smiled, happy to see her rival utterly destroyed. The other girls, with the exception of the two shy ones, all snickered in myrth.
I stood there with all the women watching, determined not to show any of them a single tear, even though I could feel my eyes blurring, straining to keep it back.
“Well, girl? Don’t make Mother ask again.”
“I failed to… get the wine,” I said softly.
“Oh no, sweet girl,” she said with her fake warmth. “You failed men. Only when you learn to please them can you avoid situations like this.”
I stared at her incredulously. No. I was set up to fail. This was not my fault. The injustice of it was so choking that it was actually hard to draw breath.
“Turn for me, Vessi, let's see how bad it is.” She clucked as I circled clumsily, turning to show her everything. Not just her, I understood this was so that every trainee saw. The message is clear, you could be next. Matron gasped, “Oh, you are just covered in filth, girl. You’ll just be a distraction sitting with us like that… Ryx, Nissa, take naughty little Vessi here over to the trough and help clean her.”
I watched her, seeing straight through the performance. She knew exactly what she was doing by sending Ryx and Nyssa.She knew the group dynamics. It was deliberate. Another small cut. Another reminder of where I stood now. I was lower than the lowest Betas.
It came to me slowly. Mistress hadn’t set this up. Matron had. She’d known exactly what would happen when she sent me for that wine. She’d chosen the timing on purpose. I was the example. The one who was still holding out. I was the example to the rest. If I wanted to get through these next weeks, I would need to make Matron believe I was becoming what she wanted. A compliant, willing, docile toy for men.
The two approached me as timidly. Neither said a word. Ryx took my hand and gently tugged. I followed without a word. Nyssa followed behind us. Every step made the drying mud crack and pull at my skin.
Once in front of the stone trough, Ryx took a white cloth from the table in her olive hands. She dipped it then brushed at my thighs, sending icy shivers through me. Nyssa cupped water in her hands and splashed it across my legs. We did this without any words. I watched in a stupor, doing nothing to help. My mind was just a blank. The only sounds were the splashing of water and the low murmur of the women behind us. Even facing the trough, I could feel all their eyes on me. Lira, especially, I didn't need to see her face to know she was enjoying this.
As the water flowed down my legs, it reminded me of the humiliating incident just minutes ago. Ryx wiped quickly, softly, just enough to take the filth away and leave me clean. Another girl might have scrubbed. I felt the overwhelming warmth of gratitude that she was being so caring, so gentle. I wanted to hug her, but kept myself from doing so. I didn’t want to mark her for cruelty or bullying from the others.
Nyssa continued cupping the water, but she now poured it down my body. Letting it wash down my chest, taking all the grime away. When Ryx reached between my legs, I flinched. She stopped for a second, then continued, her face blank. Her eyes glanced at mine, then away as if offering a quiet apology. Nyssa poured more water over me, its icy touch numbing my breasts and belly.
I stood there and let them wash me. I didn’t help. I just let the cold water run over my skin while they wiped away what the guards had done to me. It felt like they were cleaning an animal. When they’d finished, they both toweled me dry quickly. Other than the mud under my feet, I was clean. Ryx touched my shoulder and gave me a gentle push to turn around. I nodded thanks to her, and she looked away.
Matron sat with her hand folded in her lap. She’d been watching everything, along with all the others. She looked serene. Almost kind. When our eyes met, I could see the calculations behind the warmth. She'd put Mistress up to picking me. Knew what the guards would do. Purposefully targeted the time to be hours after lunch with no relief. She knew I was holding out. That I still thought of myself as something other than a slave. Different from the rest of them.
I understood.
I wasn’t going to win by resisting. That made their torture more cruel, more creative. The only way through this was to give them what they wanted. I would have to play the eager, broken little thing they expected. I would smile when touched. I would thank them when I was used. I would make her believe she won. And the worst part was that some small, tired piece of me was already starting to accept it. That if I just gave them what they wanted, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much next time.
The next time she wanted to make a lesson of someone, I wanted her to think I was too far gone to need one.
When we returned to the semi-circle of women formed around Matron, she smiled, “There we go. All clean now.”
Clean enough to lie.
I met her eyes and gave her the smallest, most obedient smile I could manage.
She smiled back.
