Tombi could still not quite believe that this was real. Surely this was all just a horrible dream?

Just a few days before she had been a happy, carefree teenager. The coming of the strangers had been a welcome distraction to the monotonous life of the village. A feast was laid on, and the young girls danced for the visitors, a traditional dance of welcome. In the early hours of the morning the slavers struck! The best looking girls were rounded up, chained, and marched off to slavery at the coast. Any who resisted, died!

The naked march to the coast was only the beginning of the indignity. At the coast, the best girls, the Prime Flesh, were separated from the rest. They were washed, hair washed, their pubic hair was removed, painfully, by being plucked out, first in bunches, finally hair by hair. Their skin was oiled until their bodies gleamed softly.

The newcomers shocked her. She had never seen people with such pale skins, hair the colour of dry grass. These people wore such strange clothes, heavy, hot things. So different to the nakedness of the slaves. Many, including some of the women, carried whips. She wondered why this was, although she was soon to discover why!

They touched her, squeezed her breasts, her buttocks, her thighs. They penetrated her, defiled her. The women were worse than the men. Coins changed hands, a few, small coins. Tombi was led off by the man and woman, leashed like an animal. She wondered what would happen to her? What work she would do? She supposed that in time she would learn the strange language these people spoke. One word was repeated often. “Fuckslave.”

She wondered what the word meant? “Fuckslave?”

Artwork by TastyGeezer