Saved By My Slave Mate

Slave

Slave

Three: Clay

I’m woken up by a bucket of cold dirty water being thrown on me. “Time to get up and clean out the stalls. The new herd will be in this morning.” says my roommate and current tormentor. I groan sitting up on the pallet that I have on the floor. It’s not much but it’s better than what I had before I came here. I get up and make my way to the outhouse to relieve myself. Coming back inside I grab my shovel and wheel barrel and go to the first stall. I start to muck it out. I pick up the buckets and carry them out to the waste bin and dump it in. I wonder what they do with the collected waste. I continue to do my job until all of the stalls have fresh and clean straw laid down. For some reason they don’t allow the salves they bring in any kind of comfort. They get straw and a bucket to relieve themselves and that’s it.

As I’m putting up my tools my tormentor calls me once again. “Hey dung, get down here and clean out the cells for the incoming fighters.” I get my tools back out and say under my breath. “Hey dumb ass, my name is Clay not dung.” I start to go towards where the stairs are. The cells to hold the incoming fighters are down stairs in the basement. I have no clue why, but at least they get beds and fresh food to eat. Theres even a shower in each of the cells. The lucky bastards. I make my way down stairs and come to the first cell. I’m inside cleaning when I over hear the Master talking to my tormentor. I don’t know what either of their names are. The Master owns the slavery building and all the slaves. It’s her teams that go out and catch the new slaves and the strong tough ones get promoted to fighters in her Arena. She has fight night every Friday night. If a fighter beats all the fighters than beat her, they are released from being a fighter to warrior statis. However, they have to swear loyalty to our Queen first. My tormentor is her favorite slave. He does anything she wants him to do which includes sleeping with her. A shiver of revulsion runs down my spine. I have never had s****l relations with anyone and I don’t plan on it either. Let the suffering end with me. I don’t want to pass this existence on to my offspring. It’s the least I can do.

The Master stops right outside the cell I’m cleaning. She starts to talking to my tormentor not paying any attention to me. “It’s really interesting. Everyone is talking about a new fighter that they are bringing in. She has silver hair and white eyes.” Huh I think to myself. That is different. I have never heard of anyone having silver hair or white eyes. I hear my tormentor respond. “Oh, does that mean I can have some fun with her? Please Master.” I hear a slap and a grunt. “No, you don’t get to play unless it’s a reward for you, stupid. Anyway, Star wants her for herself. Something about her looks making us a lot of money.” Hearing this makes a shiver run down my spine. Star is Masters daughter and she is just plain evil.

The first day I was here she tied me up and used me as target practice. I still have scars from that day. She took me out to the posts that hold the targets for the arrows to pierce. She tied my arms behind a post and then stood back and picked up pebbles. You would think they wouldn’t hurt, well your wrong. She would pick up a handful at a time and load it into her sling-shot, aim, and fire. I would have forty to fifty hit me at a time. Some imbedding into my skin. Another shiver runs down my spine. Just thinking of digging them out of my skin. I tune back into their conversation.

“I guess she cried like a baby when they cut all of her hair off. It was down to her bum.” I hear my tormentor saying. “Why would they cut her hair? What did she do to make her mad?” I hear a shuffle. “She tried to escape and they had to dart her. She still hasn’t said a word to them.” Wow, they had to dart her. That means they were actually scared that she would get away. The females here are Warriors through and through. They would rather fight then take the easy way out. I make my way through the back entrance of the cells so I don’t interrupt the Master and go into the next one. Starting all over again. I still have six more cells to clean after this one. There are a total of eight cells for the new fighters. If they win and are broken emotionally enough, they will be moved to an apartment building that houses just fighters.

I start to hear moaning and skin slapping. I feel like I want to hurl. Why would they do that right out in the open so anyone can stumble upon them. I keep quiet and mind my own business. I get through two more cells before the noise stops. I breathe a sigh of relief when the sounds stop. I’m just gathering my cleaning supplies when the Master herself comes to the cell I’m in. “Dung, when you’re done with the cells, I need you to get the old cell in the back cleaned up and ready for use. Also, I need the stage prepared for an auction for later today.” I drop my mop. Keeping my eyes on the floor. “Yes, Master.” She steps forward and runs her hand through my hair. I can’t keep the shiver from running through my body. I don’t move because I know if I do, I will be beaten. Then even if she beats me to an inch of my life, I will still have to do my work. I would rather do it pain free for today.

She steps back knowing I will never service her in the way she wants me to. If nothing else our Queen doesn’t agree with using the house slaves for s*x. That is what you buy s*x Slaves for. I guess they must have gotten a batch of good-looking men and women in. That is why see wants me to get the stage cleaned and ready for an auction later today. I feel sorry for those that are picked for that job. I would never be able to perform s****l acts for no one. I have never even had a hard on. I think I might be broken. I don’t remember who my parents are so I don’t know if I’m a changeling, magical, human, or other. There are so many different breeds out there.

The earliest memory I have is of a female smelling of berries trying to quiet me down so the bad men don’t find us. I still to this day don’t know who the bad men are. The same voice telling me I’m an important piece of a very large puzzle and I must stay alive. Then I remember feeling being ripped out of someone’s arms and her cries of pain. Then that is it. The next memory I have is of being slapped for not doing my work right or quickly enough. To this day I wonder who the female that smelled like berries was. Was she my mother or just someone trying to help me? I sigh. Oh well, I better get back to work.

I finish with the fighter’s cells and make my way to the lonely cell in the back corner in the shadows. I wonder If they are planning on putting the female Star wants to torture in this cell. I already feel bad for the female. Star is viscous and will make her life a living hell until she dies. I get the tiny cell which only has room for a small cot and a toilet in the corner. That’s it, enough room to turn while standing in place. I sigh and pick up my cleaning supplies once more. I climb the steps to go back upstairs and out the back door.

I welcome the sunlight and breeze on my skin. Its feels and smells so good. I wish I was free to go running in the fields like I see the girls do. They are the only ones that are allowed any freedom. The boys are put to work as soon as they are old enough to follow direction. Until then they are taught how to show submission so they don’t get killed. Then they are used as workers until puberty when it’s decided by the Queen who stays as house slaves or s*x slaves. If your good enough you are put into the fighting ring. Once a year they open the fighting ring. All slaves have the right to prove they have what it takes to become a fighter. If they do, they can earn their freedom just like the fighters. Most of the slaves join hoping to be killed in the ring and put out of their misery.

I am just finishing cleaning the stage for the auctions when I see the line of buggies with the new herd coming down the road. I go to the roof where all of the slaves are conjugating to see the newbies arrive. The first buggies have young boys and young men in it no older than late teens. The second one has young girls just coming into their maturity. Then the other eight carts have of aged females no older than their late twenties. Well, they have a good take this time. I haven’t seen this many come in at once in the year I have been here. The very last cart draws my attention. It’s were Star is opening the door and she pulls out the silver haired female. My heart stops in my chest.