I Purchase A Girl

originally posted March 17, 2006

I miscalculated. A perfunctory beating was not enough. Accordingly, with her wrists bound above her head, her body nearly pendant from a low bough of a gnarled, leafless tree, I beat her again. Twenty lashes. Her pale body will light with the kiss of the five strapped lash for days. She could not cry out. I had not deigned to remove the gag yet. She stared at me with something other than disbelief. She knew this would happen. She herself had said 'I'll take that beating.' She took that beating. It was delivered calmly, thoroughly and efficiently. She, too, miscalculated. She let her pride rule her decision-making process. Boldly, She withheld information from me, thinking to punish me. A slave. It was foolish. When it was done, I cut her down. I removed the gag that was her garment.
"There is laundry to do," I said. I glanced to her spitsoaked garment, still knotted up in the grass. "Start with that one. Go. Take your ass back to camp."
The girl from Ar, sold to a Slaver in our caravan, was Elise. You know her as Jelly. Yesterday, when She came into the camp excited, crying out 'Master. Master!', She knew. Because I was not of a mind to acknowledge a prattling slavegirl at that moment, she resolved to hide it from me. She sought to punish me. A slave. It was foolish. Everyone in the caravan knew that the Tarnsman sold the girl to the Slaver for ten gold tarn disks. An incredible sum, but not unbelievable. I offered five, and was laughed at. After informing them of my city, that of the girl's abduction, I again offered five. I was again laughed at, but with less conviction. After suggesting I would like to see papers effecting her sale, her transfer of ownership, he stopped laughing. I offered five. He accepted it. I purchased a girl. It happened on the evening of the first day of the Waiting Hand.